#I actually wasn’t originally planning to go with this design

[iced-souls]

Ma monster guy lil wisp lil willow for a certain monster contest!

Willow Wisps don’t tend to be seen in their full form, since they’re usually pretty shy/spooked/wary of danger. To get rid of a potential threat, they’ll “flame on” their disguise and work together to lure the threat away from their home. When their not at home however, they’ll keep the flame on to look “scarier” to make the threat avoid them, otherwise they’ll prance away (which looks more like a bouncing flame all haha)

The common wisp live amongst willow trees, as to blend in more easily with the leaf type. But there are different kinds of wisps according to the kinds of trees they’ve evolved with (spruce wisp, oak wisp, ever wisp, maple wisp?)

They’re nocturnal, omnivores (bugs, small animals, dead stuff, leaves), and facultatively bipedal (like a parasaurolophus).

They’re light and fluffy, leaving them able to float off a surface. This also makes them prone to being blown away probably—

The fluffy stuff is fur like the mammals they are, but their bone and meat structure is probably closer to that of a bird.

They’re an older species, originating from somewhere in the dino times, but like most dino evolutions, they are tinier than they once were

Some more doodles of them under the cut!

| COMMISSIONS |

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Pixar did not have to go as hard as they did with the Kronos Unveiled scene in The Incredibles (2004), yet they did anyway and gave us one of the best scenes in modern cinema. Literally cannot stop thinking about how good this scene is, from the animation to the build up to the soundtrack.

I don’t think I truly understood how dark this scene - and this film - was a child: Syndrome is systematically and strategically luring in superheroes and killing them off in order to test and improve his Omnidroid design… these people were not only supers but they also had family and loved ones too, just like Bob, and one day they would have just disappeared because chances are they weren’t telling people where they were going because it was "top secret" and against the law. They thought they were doing something good, like helping the people in the island, while also getting to relive their glory days, perhaps even paving the way for superheroes to make a proper comeback… only for Syndrome to kill them in cold blood.

Most of these people can actually be seen at Bob and Helen’s wedding in the beginning of the film - they weren’t just random supers, they were their friends, people they worked alongside and cared about. It’s even worse when you realise that Bob probably blames himself because, after all, Buddy/Syndrome was his biggest fan and he dismissed him by not letting him help.

The relief on Bob’s face when he realises Syndrome doesn’t know where Helen is - meaning he also doesn’t know where their children are because he didn’t realise they were married at this point - is so realistic and gut wrenching to see. The relief contrasting with the anguish of knowing how much danger they and their entire family could have been in the entire time without even knowing...it's so well-done, you can literally feel it.

It’s also worth noting that originally the next target wasn’t Mr Incredible but Frozone - that was who Mirage was trailing, hence why his location is “known”. Imagine if she/Syndrome hadn’t realised that Mr Incredible was with him and they’d lured Frozone in instead as planned; he would have gone to the island to fight the Omnidroid 8 in a volcano setting. We saw how being in the burning building dehydrated Frozone and made it impossible to use his ice powers - presumably it would have been the same in the middle of a lava filled volcano, and he’d have been slaughtered just like the other superheroes before him.

This scene shows an entire generation of superheroes - Bob, Helen and Lucius’ generation - wiped out all because Syndrome felt slighted by his hero as a child, because he internalised that slight and let it drive him to revenge. And, if we take into account the deleted alternate opening scene, it’s mentioned that superheroes "aren't supposed to breed” - meaning there’s a likelihood that Violet, Dash and Jack-Jack are among the very few supers of the next generation. I know that it's deleted and so not really canon, but it's definitely a concept to consider, I think.

Then there's the fact Syndrome named the project "Kronos" - Kronos was a God who overthrew his own father in order to take over his rule, and then he ate his own children to prevent them doing the same thing to him. It feels like it reflects Syndrome once looking up to Mr Incredible and even saying "I could be your ward!", meaning Mr Incredible adopting or fostering him - the project name is a metaphor for Syndrome destroying the Supers, especially Mr Incredible, who he viewed as a father figure. The Omnidroids he built killed two birds with one stone: not only was he able to acquire the data to upgrade the robot to its final design, but it also eliminated the real super heroes and so left him as the last remaining "superhero", even though his powers are man-made, not something he was born with.

Not only did he want to become the only remaining superhero by killing the real ones in revenge, he also planned to sell his inventions at some point so everyone can be super - because "when everyone is super, nobody is". It's like a final blow to the memory of the superheroes he had killed.

I've talked too much about this scene but God... I love it so much more as an adult because it's just so chilling to think about. I'm sure other people can put it much more articulately than I just tried to, but I just really wanted to appreciate this scene.

[sabrinasopposite]

you'll always find a way back home ❀

clark kent x reader (miley stewart summer au)

❀ summary: being a cali-girl has its advantages—surrounded by beaches, parties, and sunshine. Y/N loves her life there, but she forgets that deep down, her roots lie in the opposite: Smallville. Her summer takes an unexpected turn when she returns to Smallville for her summer break and crosses paths once again with her childhood enemy, Clark Kent.

word count: 6,755

There’s always the best of both worlds—one filled with glamour and the other, well, the opposite of it. The same could be said for Malibu and Smallville. Malibu embodied glamorous salt air, the sound of waves, and the endless rush of life. Smallville, on the other hand, was different: cows, meadows, and pure silence—the opposite sides of existence.

For Y/N, the feeling of living in two different worlds wasn’t a big deal. She had left one world behind at the age of seven, spending the next ten years in Malibu. Salt air, endless beaches, and the golden glow of the sun—it was a life she had carved out for herself, a world she had seamlessly become part of. The rush of city life, the hum of vibrant streets, and the pulse of constant motion nourished her soul in ways she could never have imagined as a seven-year-old. The sprawling metropolis of Malibu felt like a living, thriving entity at the edge of the world.

Before Malibu, there was only Smallville. The life she had known as a child was painted in shades of green—vast, open fields stretching endlessly in every direction. The land was quiet, so silent it could almost swallow her whole. Days were spent wandering dusty roads on horseback, the sun scorching the back of her neck, while the sound of crickets and rustling corn served as her only soundtrack. It was a life where the horizon never seemed to change, and the sense of being trapped within the narrow confines of the small town’s heartbeat was ever-present. A world of barns, hand-me-down denim, and the thick scent of earth—the very soil seemed to anchor her in place, a constant reminder of who she once was.

Then came the transformation. She shed the weight of Smallville like an old, weathered coat and replaced it with the sleek, gleaming allure of Malibu. Gone were the cowboy boots—now she walked in strappy sandals. The scent of hay gave way to the salty tang of the ocean breeze. Her hands, once calloused from farmwork, now held delicate silk fabrics and the soft sheen of designer handbags. Dusty roads became wide, pristine boulevards, and the simple country air was replaced by the intoxicating aroma of city life.

And she liked it.

Hell, she loved it.

She loved being a city girl, a Cali girl.

She had long forgotten the quiet winds that swept through Smallville’s open fields, the scent of grass and earth underfoot, and the cool embrace of the night sky.

Yet, as summer break loomed, she envisioned herself spending it with friends at the beach or going to parties. But plans took an unexpected twist, like a tornado without warning. Her father, Robbie, appeared with his ever-stubborn insistence. He informed Y/N and her brother, Jackson, that they were heading back to Smallville for a celebration—Martha Kent’s birthday.

Martha, Robbie’s childhood friend and the ever-kind, patient woman, had invited them to join the Kents for the occasion. Y/N wasn’t thrilled. Her original summer plans had promised excitement, filled with the laughter of friends and the sparkle of club lights—the kind of plans Malibu always encouraged. Smallville, though? It felt like a relic of the past, a place where time stood still.

“I don’t want to go,” Y/N protested, her voice sharp with frustration as she flopped back onto the couch. “I had plans. I was going to hang out with my friends, hit the clubs, you know, actually have fun.”

Robbie raised an eyebrow. “This is important, Y/N. You haven’t seen Martha in years. She’s been asking about you. You’re going, and that’s final.”

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. “You’re really going to make me spend my break in a field with cows and tractors?”

Her brother, Jackson—the ever-peacemaker and, somehow, the most annoying brother—glanced over with a sympathetic smile. “Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fun. Like old times. You can hang out with me, catch up with everyone, and maybe the fresh air will do you some good.”

Y/N groaned, slumping into the cushions. “I don’t need fresh air. I need a beach, not cornfields.”

But her father wasn’t listening to her complaints. “Pack your bags. We’re leaving in an hour.”

The truck rumbled along the familiar winding roads of Smallville, the scent of dust and fresh air filling the cab. Y/N leaned against the window, her fingers idly tracing patterns in the condensation. Outside, fields stretched endlessly in all directions, dotted with grazing cows and the occasional weathered barn. The sight should have been nostalgic, but to Y/N, it only deepened her annoyance.  

It had been years since she’d been here, yet the quiet of the countryside felt almost suffocating. The stillness pressed against her like a heavy blanket, the kind that made it hard to breathe. Smallville seemed frozen in time—its unchanging landscapes a stark contrast to the vibrant motion of Malibu.  

She glanced over at Jackson, who was scrolling through his phone in the passenger seat, annoyingly unbothered by their sudden detour into the past. Robbie sat behind the wheel, humming along to a country station on the radio, clearly in his element. The whole scene made Y/N’s skin itch.  

She sighed, the sound loud enough to get Jackson’s attention. He smirked without looking up from his phone. “You okay there, city girl?”  

“Fine,” Y/N muttered, shifting in her seat. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how irritated she was. But in truth, she wasn’t fine. The weight of Smallville’s simplicity—the fields, the dirt roads, the lack of anything remotely exciting—was already settling over her like a cloud.  

The truck slowed as they passed the familiar white sign welcoming them to Smallville. Y/N’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. The memories she’d worked so hard to bury began clawing their way back to the surface: the laughter of kids on the school playground, the smell of hay bales during harvest, the quiet nights spent staring at the stars because there was nothing else to do.  

She shifted her gaze back to the window, trying to drown out the flood of emotions with the rhythmic crunch of the tires on the gravel road. “Why couldn’t we just send a card?” she grumbled under her breath, earning a chuckle from Robbie.  

“It won’t kill you to be here for a few days,” her father said, his tone equal parts teasing and firm. “Besides, Martha’s been looking forward to seeing you. She’s practically family, Y/N.”  

Y/N rolled her eyes. That was the problem. Smallville wasn’t just a place she’d left behind—it was a version of herself she’d buried, a girl she didn’t want to be anymore. Being back here felt like opening a door she’d slammed shut years ago, and she wasn’t ready to step through it.  

As the truck turned down a familiar dirt road, the Kent farmhouse came into view. It looked exactly as she remembered—whitewashed walls, a wide wraparound porch, and the iconic red barn standing proud against the horizon. Y/N could already picture Martha’s warm smile and open arms, the way she’d welcome them with fresh pie and a hug that felt like it could squeeze the air out of your lungs.  

Her father parked the truck and hopped out, stretching with a contented sigh. “We’re here,” he announced cheerfully.  

Y/N stayed put, gripping the door handle but not opening it. The idea of stepping out and being enveloped in the reality of Smallville made her stomach churn. She wasn’t ready to see the barn, the fields, or the people who would ask her questions she didn’t want to answer. She wasn’t ready to feel like the little girl who used to belong here.  

“Y/N?” Jackson’s voice broke through her thoughts. He was standing outside now, leaning against the truck with a knowing look on his face. “You coming, or are you planning to live in the cab?”  

With a heavy sigh, Y/N pushed the door open and slid out. The warm summer air wrapped around her like a blanket, carrying with it the faint scent of freshly cut grass and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. It was as if Smallville itself was welcoming her home.  

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and trudged toward the house, muttering under her breath, “This is going to be the longest summer of my life.”  

The Kent farmhouse was just as Y/N remembered it, a picture-perfect postcard of rural life. The white picket fence framed the yard, the flowerbeds bursting with color, and the iconic red barn standing tall against the clear blue sky. Despite herself, she felt a twinge of warmth at the sight of it all.

Martha Kent stood on the porch, her apron dusted with flour, waving enthusiastically as the truck pulled to a stop. Y/N couldn’t help but smile a little. Martha’s energy was infectious, and her kind heart had always been a constant source of comfort during Y/N’s early years in Smallville.

“Y/N! Jackson! Oh, it’s so good to see you both!” Martha exclaimed, rushing forward with open arms. Robbie got out of the truck first, grinning as Martha pulled him into a quick hug before moving on to Y/N and Jackson.

Y/N braced herself for the inevitable bone-crushing hug, but when Martha wrapped her arms around her, it wasn’t suffocating—it was warm and reassuring, like stepping into the sunlight after a cloudy day. “Look at you! You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman,” Martha said, pulling back to get a good look at her.

“Thanks, Martha,” Y/N said, her voice softening in spite of her earlier annoyance. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“And Jackson, my goodness, you’ve shot up like a weed!” Martha added, giving him a playful nudge.

Jackson grinned, always happy to be the center of attention. “It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Kent.”

“Now, none of this ‘Mrs. Kent’ business. You know you can call me Martha,” she said, ushering them toward the porch.

The house smelled like freshly baked apple pie, with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg lingering in the air. Y/N couldn’t deny that it felt nice—familiar, even. Martha’s home had always been a safe haven, a place filled with warmth and kindness.

As they settled into the living room, Martha brought out a tray of lemonade and cookies, chatting animatedly with Robbie about old times. Jackson joined in, sharing stories of their life in Malibu. Y/N stayed mostly quiet, sipping her lemonade and letting the conversation flow around her. She liked Martha, but being back in Smallville was like stepping into a pair of old shoes that didn’t quite fit anymore.

“Clark’s not here, by the way,” Martha said suddenly, glancing at Y/N with a knowing smile. “He’s somewhere.”

Y/N froze, her fingers tightening around her glass. Of course, Clark Kent would come up eventually. He was practically Smallville royalty, and Martha couldn’t help but dote on her son.

“That’s… fine,” Y/N said quickly, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Clark Kent was the most annoying boy next door, y/n has ever known. He was always teasing her about her farming skills, or pulled pranks with Jackson on her. Y/N always teased Clark that he couldn’t speak properly to girls, or that he looks like a grandpa. It was always forth and back.

Martha chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I seem to remember the two of you didn’t get along very well as kids.”

Jackson snorted. “Didn’t get along? That’s putting it mildly. Clark was always teasing her—pushing her to the hay, hiding her toys, calling her ‘city slicker’ even though she wasn’t from the city back then.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, annoyance was clear on her face. “Yeah, well, he was a terror. I’m surprised he didn’t get himself kicked out of kindergarten.”

Martha laughed, clearly amused. “Oh, he’s grown out of that phase, I promise. He’ll be happy to see you.”

Y/N highly doubted that. The last time she’d seen Clark Kent, they’d been seven years old, and he’d shoved a frog into her lunchbox, resulting in her shrieking so loudly the teacher had to call the principal and Y/N pushed him later as revenge to a lake. The memory still made her cringe.

“Well, let’s hope he’s matured,” Y/N said in a sarcastically tone, setting her glass down on the coffee table.

Martha patted her hand gently. “I’m sure you’ll both get along better now. People change, Y/N.”

“Sure they do,” Y/N replied, though she wasn’t convinced. If Clark Kent was still the same smug, teasing boy she remembered, this summer was about to become a whole lot more complicated.

After the small talk in the living room had run its course, Y/N found herself wandering toward the window, gazing out at the sprawling fields behind the Kent house. Her eyes drifted to the paddock near the barn, and her breath caught when she spotted a familiar figure—Blue Jeans, her old horse.  

The years hadn’t dulled his striking appearance. His glossy black coat gleamed in the sunlight, his white star-shaped marking standing out proudly on his forehead. Her heart squeezed as memories of riding him across the fields rushed back—those carefree days when the world felt vast and full of possibilities.  

“He’s still here,” Y/N murmured, more to herself than anyone else.  

Martha, who had been tidying up, looked over and smiled warmly. “Of course, he is. Robbie couldn’t bear to part with him after you guys left. He’s been here ever since.”  

Y/N couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at her lips. Blue Jeans had been her constant companion during her Smallville years, a source of comfort when the quiet got too loud. She suddenly felt a tug of nostalgia and longing that she hadn’t anticipated.  

“I’m going to go see him,” she said abruptly, grabbing her phone and heading toward the door.  

The heat of the sun kissed her skin as she walked across the yard, the scents of hay and earth growing stronger with every step. When she reached the paddock, Blue Jeans was grazing lazily near the fence, his tail swishing against the flies.  

“Hey there, boy,” Y/N called softly, leaning against the wooden fence. Her voice wavered slightly, a mix of excitement and nervousness. “It’s me, Blue Jeans. Remember me?”  

The horse’s ears twitched, and he lifted his head to look at her. His dark eyes, once so full of trust and familiarity, now stared at her with a distant curiosity. Y/N felt a pang of disappointment.  

“It’s been a while, huh?” she said, stepping closer. She reached out a hand, hoping he’d recognize her scent or the sound of her voice. “I’ve missed you, you know.”  

Blue Jeans regarded her for a moment longer before snorting and turning his head away, clearly uninterested.  

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Y/N murmured, slipping through the fence and into the paddock. She approached slowly, her hand outstretched, but as soon as she got close, Blue Jeans startled. His ears pinned back, and before she could react, he bolted across the paddock, his hooves kicking up clouds of dust.  

“Blue Jeans, wait!” Y/N called, her heart sinking as she watched him gallop toward the far side of the field.  

She stood there for a moment, the weight of his reaction pressing down on her. He didn’t remember her. The bond they’d shared—the one she’d thought would last forever—was gone.  

Frustration welled up as she stopped near the edge of the pasture, catching her breath. She hadn’t expected this—her own horse, the one she’d ridden through countless childhood summers, didn’t even know her anymore.

Movement on the far side of the field caught her eye. A rider was approaching swiftly on a sleek black horse, cutting across the open space with practiced ease. They seemed to have noticed Blue Jeans’ runaway gallop and were moving to intercept him.

Y/N squinted, trying to make out the rider. The sunlight glinted off the black horse’s glossy coat as the figure leaned low in the saddle, guiding the animal with effortless precision.

The rider expertly maneuvered their horse, heading off Blue Jeans before he could get any farther. With a firm but gentle pull of the reins, they brought him to a halt. The black horse stood steady, calm in its dominance, while Blue Jeans pawed at the ground, uncertain but no longer running.

Y/N stood frozen, watching the rider stroke Blue Jeans’ neck and murmur something she couldn’t hear. She felt a pang of gratitude mixed with curiosity.

As the rider turned and began leading the two horses back toward the barn, Y/N finally got a better look. The tall figure was dressed in a simple flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. The confidence in his movements stirred something vaguely familiar in her memory, but she couldn’t place it right away.

When the rider dismounted, handing Blue Jeans’ reins to her, Y/N finally got a clear look at his face—and her breath caught. 

Clark Kent.

Of course, that was him.

He looked different—taller, broader, more confident—but the smug little smirk on his face as he approached was unmistakable.

“Lost something?” he called out, his voice carrying across the field.

Y/N crossed her arms, her jaw tightening as Clark brought both horses to a stop in front of her. Blue Jeans looked calm now, his ears twitching as Clark dismounted and handed her the reins.

“Your horse didn’t seem too thrilled to see you,” Clark said, his tone light but with that teasing edge she remembered all too well.

Y/N snatched the reins from his hand, glaring at him. “He just didn’t recognize me. It’s been a while.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, if that’s what you want to tell yourself.”

She huffed, focusing on stroking Blue Jeans’ neck instead of responding. Clark’s black horse snorted behind him, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how well-trained and strong the animal looked.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide her irritation.

Clark shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I could ask you the same, city girl. Perhaps I was riding but I didn’t think I’d end up saving your horse in the process and I am still waiting for a ,thank you,” His tone sarcastically as ever.

“Thanks,” she muttered begrudgingly, avoiding his gaze.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his tone annoyingly cheerful.

As Clark mounted his horse again, he glanced back at her with a grin that made her blood boil. “Good to see you again, city girl. Try not to lose him next time.”

With that, he urged his horse into a trot and rode off, leaving Y/N standing there with Blue Jeans and a swirl of emotions she didn’t want to unpack.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath, tugging lightly on Blue Jeans’ reins. “Welcome back to Smallville.”

Y/N walked slowly back toward the barn, Blue Jeans obediently following behind her, though he was still skittish from the brief escape. Her thoughts were racing, the familiar, maddening presence of Clark Kent bringing all kinds of feelings she’d hoped were buried. She couldn’t believe it—after all these years, he was still the same teasing, infuriating kid she remembered. Only now, he was taller, more confident, and somehow, even more irritating.

As she reached the barn, she heard the sound of hooves approaching again. This time, it was slower, more deliberate. She glanced over her shoulder, and sure enough, there was Clark, riding his horse back toward her. 

He pulled the reins as he stopped a few feet away, his eyes narrowing with that mischievous glint she remembered so well. 

“So, Malibu, huh?” he said, his tone light and teasing, as if he was trying to provoke her. “I actually didn’t even recognize you earlier. Thought you were some California tourist passing through.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. “You’re not the first person to make that mistake,” she muttered, stroking Blue Jeans’ neck a little more forcefully than necessary. 

Clark chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “No kidding. You look nothing like the girl I used to torment.” His gaze shifted up and down, inspecting her with an expression that felt far too knowing. “You’ve definitely changed. I barely recognized you without the pigtails and the dirt on your face.”

Y/N couldn’t suppress a huff of frustration. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve been really paying attention,” she shot back, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Why would I want to look like that annoying little girl you used to pick on?” 

Clark grinned, clearly enjoying every second of this. “You know, I never understood why you were so touchy about me teasing you. It was all in good fun. You were, what, seven? Not like you’d remember any of it now.” His eyes twinkled as if he was savoring the memory of their childhood rivalry. 

“Trust me,” Y/N replied, her tone sharp, “I remember plenty. And just because I don’t look like that girl anymore doesn’t mean I’m not still the same person.” 

Clark leaned back slightly in the saddle, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right. Of course. But it’s hard to see past the whole… Malibu vibe. You’ve got the whole ‘I’m way too cool for Smallville’ thing going on.” His grin widened, and Y/N couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or genuinely poking at something he knew would get under her skin.

Y/N glanced at him, narrowing her eyes. “I’m not too cool for Smallville,” she said slowly, “but maybe it’s you who can’t see past the small-town life. Maybe it’s you who hasn’t changed.” 

Clark raised an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by her comment. “I changed. I’m just not *bragging* about it like you are.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating the way she stood in front of him, her posture more confident, her clothes undoubtedly a far cry from the ones she’d worn all those years ago. “I mean, Malibu does wonders for a person.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush but refused to back down. “I’m not bragging. And for the record, there’s more to me than whatever you think you see from your small-town perspective.” She met his gaze, refusing to let him get the best of her. “You know, I didn’t ask for this visit. I had better plans than standing here in the dust, talking to the same person who made my life miserable when we were kids.”

Clark leaned forward in the saddle, his expression softening slightly. “Hey, I’m just messing with you. I didn’t mean anything by it. But seriously, Malibu… It must be a whole different world from here, huh?” His tone was more genuine now, though still laced with that teasing undercurrent. “I bet it’s *pretty* hard to leave it all behind.”

Y/N hesitated. For a moment, the teasing and the rivalry faded, and she could hear the underlying curiosity in his voice. “Yeah,” she admitted, her shoulders relaxing just a little. “It’s... different. It’s all the things people think it is—beaches, sun, parties. But it’s also lonely. Harder than people realize.” 

Clark’s smile faded, and he gave a small nod, as if he understood more than he was letting on. “I get it. Doesn’t matter how shiny things are. Not every place feels like home.” 

Y/N looked at him, surprised by the change in tone. For a moment, it felt like they weren’t just two childhood enemies standing in the middle of a field—they were two people who, in their own ways, were just trying to make sense of their worlds. 

But before she could say anything more, Clark seemed to snap back to his usual self. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your horse,” he said with a wink. “Just don’t lose him again, okay? I don’t want to have to rescue you next time.”

Y/N scowled. “You’re lucky I’m not punching you right now,” she shot back, but even as she said it, there was an undeniable hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Clark laughed, a light, carefree sound that made Y/N realize how little she actually knew about the boy who had teased her for so long. “I’ll be around, city girl. Don’t go getting too comfortable.”

Y/N watched him go, the sting of their old rivalry still there but somehow not as sharp. Maybe Smallville wasn’t as small as she remembered after all.

Over the next few days, Y/N found herself spending more time with Clark than she’d expected. Every time she tried to avoid him, he seemed to find a way to show up, like some kind of cosmic joke. And despite her best efforts to maintain her distance, she couldn’t help but feel a strange pull toward him. It was the kind of pull that only small towns seemed to foster—familiar, unspoken, and inescapable.

It started innocently enough. Martha had insisted that they all help with the chores around the farm, and, of course, Clark had been the first to show up, grinning like a cat that had gotten the cream. 

“Ready to get your hands dirty, city girl?” he’d teased, standing at the entrance of the barn with his sleeves rolled up, looking like he belonged there more than anyone else.

Y/N shot him a glare, arms crossed. “I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly capable of doing chores, thank you very much.”

He chuckled, clearly not convinced. “I doubt you’ve done a real day’s work in your life,” he shot back, leaning against a barrel of hay. “I mean, Malibu’s great and all, but I don’t think they teach you how to muck out a stall out there.”

She clenched her jaw. “You’d be surprised what I can handle.”

And handle it, she did. After a little grumbling, they worked side by side, shoveling hay, cleaning out the barn, and feeding the animals. At first, it was awkward—Y/N wasn’t used to the rhythm of farm life anymore, and Clark didn’t hesitate to point out every little mistake she made. 

“Oh, you missed a spot,” he’d tease, always with that smirk of his, as he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, city girl.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the truth was, she liked the banter. It reminded her of her childhood, when everything was simpler, when everything had felt like a game. 

“Look, if you think I can’t do this, just wait until I show you how it’s done,” she said, determined to prove him wrong. 

Clark raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? I’m waiting.”  

And then, to his surprise, Y/N had grabbed the pitchfork and shoveled with more precision than he had expected. She might not have grown up with the same skills as him, but she knew how to get things done.  

When they finally took a break, Clark leaned against the barn wall, wiping his forehead. “Alright, I’ll admit it. You’re not as bad as I thought. Maybe Malibu’s *not* all you are.”

Y/N smirked, a spark of competition in her eyes. “Told you so.”  

Their time together continued like that—moments of teasing and lighthearted jabs followed by quiet, almost comfortable silences. They’d ride together out in the fields, their horses’ hooves beating a steady rhythm on the dirt. Clark would always make sure to *just barely* stay ahead of her, giving her a playful wink when she caught up. 

“You know, I’ve always been better at this than you,” he would say, his voice a mix of challenge and amusement. “You used to be so slow. Guess Malibu's not doing much for your speed.”

Y/N would roll her eyes. “You really need to stop talking about the past, Kent. I’m faster now. Catch me if you can.”

And then she’d race ahead, her heart pounding in the excitement of the chase. Clark would grin and follow, effortlessly keeping pace with her, never really pushing to overtake her. They were both competitive, in their own ways, but Clark’s subtle teasing always managed to keep her on her toes.

One afternoon, after a long ride, they returned to the barn, both a little winded and flushed from the exertion. Clark tied the horses up, and when he turned to Y/N, he caught her looking at him for a moment longer than she intended. 

“What?” he asked, his grin widening as he noticed the lingering look. 

“Nothing,” Y/N replied quickly, her heart unexpectedly fluttering. “I was just thinking how *different* it is being here. It feels… good, I guess. Like it fits.”

Clark didn’t miss the tone in her voice. “Glad to hear it,” he said quietly, his smile softer now, like he wasn’t just teasing her for once. “You know, Smallville has a way of doing that to people. It’s like it gets under your skin.” 

Y/N swallowed, feeling her heartbeat quicken. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

And then, almost as if to remind her that some things never really changed, Clark stepped closer, leaning in just a bit too close for comfort. “I’m still way better at riding than you, though,” he said, his voice low with that playful challenge. “I mean, you did need me to catch your horse earlier.”

Y/N huffed, trying to stay unaffected by the closeness. “I don’t remember asking for your help.”

He flashed a grin, his eyes lingering on her face for just a beat too long. “I’ll remind you of that next time I rescue you from your own horse again.”

The air between them shifted, a silent tension hanging in the barn as they stood in the afterglow of their ride, the sound of the horses settling in the background. Y/N felt a knot tighten in her stomach, but before she could respond, Clark seemed to snap back into his usual playful demeanor. 

“Well, I’d better go help my mom with dinner,” he said, a little too casually. “You know, so you don’t think I’m just here to torment you all day.”

“Too late for that,” she retorted, though her lips twitched into a small smile.

And as Clark walked away, Y/N found herself watching him longer than she probably should have. It wasn’t just the way he’d changed physically—stronger, taller, more confident. It was the way he seemed to settle back into Smallville with a comfort that felt almost... easy. The way they both fell back into their old rhythm of teasing and rivalry, like time had stood still, despite everything.

But somewhere beneath the playful jabs and the teasing grins, Y/N couldn’t ignore the fact that maybe—just maybe—Clark Kent had grown up in ways she hadn’t expected. And that left her wondering if there was more to the new Clark than the boy who used to torment her so many years ago. 

The next day, after a hearty breakfast at the Kent farm, Clark suggested they go on a ride to a place he thought she might like—a small waterfall hidden away just on the outskirts of town. He’d mentioned it casually, like it was no big deal, but Y/N could tell there was something about this spot that meant more to him than he was letting on. 

They saddled their horses and set off, the cool morning air whipping past them as they rode side by side through the fields. The peaceful rhythm of the horses' galloping hooves against the dirt seemed to melt away all the tension that had lingered between them the past few days. It was easy, comfortable, in a way Y/N hadn’t expected. There was something about being on horseback, moving through the wide-open space, that made her feel connected to this place again—like she was finding pieces of herself she had forgotten.

Clark led her down a narrow path that wound through trees, and soon the sound of rushing water filled the air. They emerged from the trees and reached the small clearing. There, nestled between moss-covered rocks, was a hidden waterfall, cascading down into a crystal-clear pool below. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dancing shadows on the water's surface. It was quieter here, the only sound the rush of water and the occasional birdcall.

“Wow,” Y/N breathed, momentarily stunned by the beauty of it. “This is... amazing. I never thought a place like this would be hiding right here.”

Clark smiled, clearly proud of the spot. “Told you. It’s one of my favorite places. Not many people know about it.”

He dismounted, tying the horses to a nearby tree, and then looked over at Y/N. “You should come down to the water. It’s the best part.”

Y/N hesitated for just a second, eyeing the small, clear pool at the base of the waterfall. “I don’t know, Clark. It looks kind of... cold.”

Clark grinned. “It’s refreshing. Trust me, you’ll love it. Besides,” he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “you could use a little adventure. Also don’t you have beaches in Malibu?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her own grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, don’t even start with that again.”

But before she could protest any further, Clark was already walking toward the water’s edge, kicking off his boots and rolling up his sleeves. Without warning, he jumped into the sea with a splash, sending water flying in every direction. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him, drenched but clearly enjoying himself. 

Clark poked his head out from the water, eyes sparkling. “Come on, it’s not so bad!”

Y/N shook her head, still laughing at the sight of him. “You’re crazy,” she called, but even as she said it, she found herself grinning. There was something about seeing him so carefree, so unguarded, that made her feel... lighter, like the tension between them from their childhood had completely evaporated. 

After a beat, she hesitated. She hadn’t planned on going into the water, but part of her felt like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it was time to let go of her reservations and enjoy the moment. 

With a resigned sigh, Y/N slowly walked toward the water, kicking off her own boots and rolling up her sleeves. She dipped a toe in, testing the water, and winced at the coolness. 

“See? Not that bad,” Clark teased, grinning like a boy who had just won a victory.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she muttered, but before she could fully make up her mind, Clark swam closer to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Race you to the waterfall,” he said, his voice light with playful challenge.

Without waiting for a response, he splashed through the water, making his way toward the base of the waterfall. 

Y/N’s competitive spirit flared up instantly. “You’re on!” she shouted, charging after him.

The water was cold, but the rush of the challenge and the sight of Clark splashing ahead of her made her forget the chill. She pushed forward, splashing water everywhere, and as she caught up to him, she could hear him laughing. The sound was carefree, filled with the kind of joy that she hadn’t heard from him in years. It made her heart flutter in a way she wasn’t quite prepared for.

Clark reached the waterfall first, turning back to look at her. “I knew you were slow.”

Y/N shot him a mock glare. “Not funny.”

But before she could protest further, Clark lunged toward her and, with a quick move, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into the deeper part of the sea. Y/N yelped in surprise, but her protest was cut short as she found herself falling into the cool water, completely submerged for a moment.

She came up sputtering, her hair plastered to her face. “You jerk!”

Clark was already laughing, his eyes full of playful amusement. “Couldn’t resist,” he teased. “You’ve got to admit, it’s fun.”

Y/N wiped the water from her face, but as she looked up at him, something shifted between them. The teasing glint in Clark’s eyes softened for a moment, and for a beat, there was something in his gaze that made her heart skip. 

He reached out, pushing a wet strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin for just a second longer than necessary. “You know, I’ve missed this,” he said, his voice quieter now, the teasing gone, replaced by something more genuine.

Y/N swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest. “Missed what?”

He smiled softly, his eyes locking with hers. “To tease you the whole time?”

Y/N’s lips curved into a chuckle, shaking her head. “Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Clark chuckled, tilting his head as he moved a bit closer. “What exactly do you want me to say, then?”

Y/N found herself looking into his eyes for a moment longer than usual, her breath catching. There was something about his tone, something flirtatious but also not, and it made her feel... strangely open to the moment.

She let out a soft breath, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “Like that you missed me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clark’s gaze softened, a hint of something more real flashing across his expression. For a moment, the world seemed to slow down around them. The teasing was gone, replaced by an unspoken understanding, something deeper than the playful back-and-forth that had defined their relationship for so long.

Clark hesitated for just a heartbeat, before his smile widened. “I think I can say that,” he said, his voice gentle, but there was still that glimmer of playfulness there. “I missed you, Y/N. Even if you were always a little... annoying.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, a mix of warmth and something else she couldn't quite place. She tilted her head, her voice playful but soft. “You’re still teasing me.”

Clark’s expression shifted, and for the first time since they hang out the whole time, he seemed to be a little more serious. “Maybe I am, but it’s because I... I don’t know, I like seeing you smile. You don’t even know how much I missed you.”

Y/N’s breath caught again. She hadn’t realized how much she’d longed for something genuine from him, something that didn’t involve teasing or childish rivalries.

She reached up, brushing her fingers lightly against his arm, before letting them fall back to her side. “Well,” she said, her voice softening, “I missed you too, Clark. In my own way.”

Clark didn’t say anything for a moment, as if letting the weight of her words sink in. Then, without warning, he gave her a crooked grin, his tone returning to that teasing edge she was so familiar with. “So, does that mean you’ll forgive me for all the cowboy or malibu jokes?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but this time, the smile on her lips was different—gentler, warmer. “Maybe. But only if you promise not to throw me into the water again.”

Clark laughed, the sound light and easy. “Deal. But just so you know, it was totally worth it.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with him, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. The moment had shifted from playful banter to something much more. Something real.

And for the first time, Y/N wasn’t sure if she wanted to let go of this new side of Clark—this side that made her feel seen, not just as the girl from Malibu, but as someone who could still be a part of Smallville, in her own way.

Maybe it was true, that you’ll always find a way back home.

❀taglist: @blackynsupremacy @alelo23 @collywobblvs @tvdelrey @angelsgalore @tinainaction

[multifandomgirl08]

White Wedding (Mini Verstappen Series)

Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: The Full version of the wedding.

Warning(s): N/A

Words: 4.9k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

February 2, 2025

It had been a surprisingly warm day in Belgium for February. You had spent the morning at Victoria’s apartment getting ready for the wedding. You had coffee with Sophie before the hair and makeup lady came to get all three of you ready.

You and Max had chosen to have the wedding at a neoclassical castle in Kapellen. It was big enough given that the guest list had a little more than 100 people showing up. You have been a little concerned as it normally was still snowing in Belgium during this part of the year.

The woman who was doing your hair into loose waves pinned some of the ringlets back away from your face, spraying on the last bit of the hairspray when Victoria had walked into the room holding Luka.

“Ready?” She asked.

You gave her a nod back.

The drive over made some of your nerves come out. You were tapping your foot in the backseat. Sophie had eventually put her hand over your knee. You had stopped instantly leaning back, this was probably the longest you had gone without talking to Max since you had moved in with him.

Pulling up to the castle felt surreal. It had all been set up with white tent covers. You could see people outside, some straighten-ing chairs, and others moving around to fix flower arrangements.

Victoria had parked the car and got out.

“Come on, we should go up before anyone sees you.” Sophie said, opening the door.

You had walked through the back entrance of the house, taking in the fine crown molding just like you did the first time you and Max had walked through here together.

“It’s a little much, no?” He asked.

“Well you only get married once.” You said placing your hand on the banister that lead upstairs.

“Just once? What if I want to marry you again?”

“Then next time you can choose,” You said before feeling his hand grip yours.

You knew that this venue wasn’t exactly Max’s style. A beach Caribbean wedding was the original plan, but it fell through with the wedding date being a month before the start of the season and still wanting to go on a two week honeymoon.

“Fine, castle it is.” Max placed a kiss on your forehead. “I get first choice on food when we talk to the caterer though.”

You knew exactly what Max would want to serve everyone, kebabs with a few Italian inspired dishes added in.

“Okay, but we’re doing family style since it’ll be easier. We just need to make sure to have a vegan option for Lewis.”

“You always think of everything.” You leaned in a little more into Max’s side giving your shoulders a small shrug.

“Thank the wedding planner for being able to do this in less than 5 months.” Both you and Max shared a chuckle before walking outside to take a look at where the actual wedding would take place.

You had gone up to the master bedroom to see the dress that you had picked out was already hanging on the white silk hanger, in the Ivory color that you had chosen all those months ago forgoing the Dutch tradition of wearing white. Pnina Tornai really knew how to design a wedding dress. It was mermaid style with defined lace detailing that had a bone in strapless corset top.

“My brother isn’t going to know what hit him.” Victoria said, as she stood there in a blush pink dress of her own choosing.

You smiled at her before she helped you put on the dress, lacing up the corset strings, and tightened them just enough so you could still breathe. She had fastened the strings at the end of the corset and then left saying that she was going to check on Max.

“Can you tell him that I’ll see him down there?” You asked her. She nodded back to you.

“I will.” Before leaving the room.

Sophie had come in when you were putting in a pair of Van Cleef mother of pearl butterfly stud earrings in white gold.

You saw her from the mirror in the vanity. She was wearing a navy off the shoulder dress that cut off just after her knees and in her hands she was holding a black box.

“Halo, Y/N.”

“Hi, Sophie.” She walked further into the room, closing the door behind her. She moved to sit to the left of you pulling up a chair, before moving the black velvet box into your lap.

“I know, normally in the Dutch tradition the mother of the grooms don’t give the bride a gift, but I wanted to give you something that I wore on my wedding day to Jos... My marriage to Max’s father wasn’t the happiest, but it was a testament to how strong I became as a person as a result of being married to him. Marriage isn’t an easy thing, it’s constant work, you must take the bad with the good while you are together.” She took in a shaky breath. “My son is going to be your teammate in life, love, and in parenting.” She paused.

“So, I’m giving you this as a reminder to love Max with everything that you have, and with my hope that you'll make sure to listen to one another, and to be there when times are the hardest.” She finished, and then encouraged you to open the box.

You had pulled the lid open to reveal a diamond tennis bracelet, made of single carat stones in a white gold setting.

“My mother had it made for me, and I want to give it to you, and if you and Max ever have a daughter, I thought you could pass it down to her.”

You were a little blown away.

“Sophie, are you sure you don’t want to give this to Victoria? I’m sure when Tom is ready they’ll-“She didn’t let you finish your sentence and started to shake her head no.

“I have many pieces that will one day be hers. This is just for you.” Sophie took the bracelet out of the box and clasped it around your left wrist.

You didn’t know how to say thank you for this. So, instead you reached over and hugged her. She had slowly pulled away from you, taking your hand.

“Come, my son won’t wait all day.” You lightly laughed, quickly slipping on the 3-inch nude suede crystal encrusted Louboutin shoes onto your feet.

Sophie had walked down the stairs with you and ushered you into the living room but not fast enough that you didn’t see Max, who was standing there with Daniel, Martijn, and Max’s childhood friend Jack.

You could hear Nico’s voice, “Just walk and hold the pillow?”

“Yes, and when we need them, Daniel will ask for them. Just like in practice.”

“Okay Papa.” Nico said up to Max. “But why is Mama’s ring so sparkly?”

“Because Mama deserves a ring that’s pretty but not prettier than she is.” Hearing Max say that made a flash of tears fill up your eyes.

You only had a few moments before Sophie needed to walk out there before Max. You couldn't help but be a little nervous about walking down the aisle.

“Sophie,” Y/N said to her as they walked out of the room, hand in hand before the music started playing for her to walk down the aisle. “I just want to thank you. Thank you for raising Max the way that you did, and being there for him when Nico came into his life.”

You could see that Sophie was starting to tear up a bit. “My son loves you, and my grandson too. I couldn’t have asked for a better wife to my son even if I had a hand in choosing her myself.”

You gave her a nod and then she hugged you, pulling you in a little tight. She gave one of your hands a squeeze before walking out of the room, making sure to give you the bouquet of tulips, peonies, and hydrangeas all in shades of white or blue.

You could hear some of the music start from outside, with the hallway slowly clearing out after that.

Nico going first, hoping that he remembered to sit next to Tom just like at the rehearsal, and then with your friends moving to clasp arms with Martijn, and Jack. Victoria and Daniel went last as Maid of Honor and Best Man.

Sophie was supposed to walk out next with Max but you could hear her through the wall.

“I’m surprised that you’re not nervous.” She spoke.

“Nervous? No, everything feels right, like it should. I just want to see her.” You heard Max say.

“You will, and she looks beautiful.”

“Thank you for everything Mum, really.”

“She makes you happy, that is all a mother could want for her son.”

It fell quiet after that. The only sound was coming from outside, there was a key change and then the sound of an orchestral rendition of Lana Del Rey’s Young and Beautiful started to play.

That was your cue.

You had made your way out of the living room towards the doors that lead out into the lawn, through the open doors and saw everyone sitting there. You could see people from your side of the family, friends, co-workers, and Lewis (who insisted on sitting on your side of the aisle) sitting on the left side. Then on the right you could see a mix of Max’s family, the guys on the grid & Sebastian Vettel, some of the engineers from Red Bull, a few of the Team Redline guys, and then Christian and Geri who were sitting in the front row with Sophie, Tom, Nico, Luka, and Leo.

You looked down the aisle to see Max standing there, in a fitted black suit, giving you a watery smile, with a few tears falling from his eyes.

You gripped your bouquet tighter trying to move at the same pace of the song. You wanted to already be up there, standing next to Max.

A few more short steps before you were looking at Max, his eyes a watery blue, with a wide smile across his face.

You took a step up on the small platform, now standing next to Max. You gave him a reassuring smile.

Both you and Max looked at one another before the officiant started.

“Hello everyone,” The graying man said into the mic. “We are all gathered here today before friends, family, and loved ones to bring together Max and Y/N. By being here today in front of close friends and family, they are making a lasting commitment to one another, to love, to be present, to always listen to the other, to fight every battle as if they are one team, one family, to love the other with pure adoration, understanding, and a spark that doesn’t diminish over time.”

There was a silent moment before he continued, “I would like Max and Y/N to join hands for this next part so they may exchange vows and rings.”

You leaned down a little to hand over your bouquet to Victoria, who happily took it from your hands.

You stepped towards Max, mouthing a small, “Hi.”

He gave you a silent chuckle and a, “Hello.” back clasping your hands together.

“And the rings please,” The officiant asked, looking at Daniel.

Daniel gave a small shake of his head, silently saying that he didn’t have them and then pretended to check his pockets until Nico came up behind Daniel and pulled them out of one of the front pockets of Daniel’s suit.

Max laughed slightly, shaking his head at Daniel before the rings were in the officiant’s hands. You let out a small chuckle, same old Daniel. You had hoped that he would put his antics to rest on this one day.

“A circle is a symbol of Unity, Infinity, wholeness as well as eternal love. By wearing these rings, you are promising to uphold all of these meanings to one another from this day, until you’re last. Y/N if you will please?” He asked holding his hand open for her to take Max’s ring in her hand to slip it onto his finger.

“Max,” She started feeling the weaved carbon fiber that made up the design of his ring, slipping it onto his left hand. “I don’t know what my life would be like without you and Nico in it. I feel the most loved when I’m with you, and I feel lucky every day that you trust me, can joke around with me, and let me be your shoulder to lean on when you need it.”

She took in a small breath, “I’m in awe of the loyalty that you have for people, and then I remember that I’m one of those few lucky people who has it too. I love you; I just love everything about you, how you are never anything but yourself to people, that you're honest with everyone that you meet, and loving, to your sister, mom, nephews, our cats, and your son.”

You looked from Max to Nico, outstretching your hand towards Nico, asking him to walk closer to you so he could stand up on the altar with you and Max. You waited until Nico stood at your side and reached his little hand up to hold yours.

“Your son, our son means so much to me,” You could see that Max’s eyes were welling up with more tears. You kept a strong hold on Max’s hand while leaning down towards Nico, talking directly to him.

“Nico, I may not have been there when you were born, or when you experienced a few of your firsts. Regardless of those things, you’ll always be my son, and I won’t let anything, or anyone change that.”

Nico was quick to reach for you, wrapping his arms around the lace fabric at the bottom of the dress. “Mama.” You could hear him sob. He tightened his hold around your knees, and you looked up at Max seeing him give you the biggest watery smile that he could manage and pressed his lips together to stop his tears from falling.

You placed a kiss on Nico's forehead and then did your best to stand, but he didn’t let you go with his hands still on the skirt of your dress.

“You and our son are my family, and that will always come first to me. I promise to make this last, through every argument, every night spent away from one another, and every child that we may have in the future.” You finished off taking in a shaky breath.

The officiant just stood there and held out his hand for Max to start.

Max blinked trying to clear the tears from his eyes and then cleared his throat. “I remember when we first met,” He started and took a pause. “You told me that if something matters… I’d make time for it. I was surprised that you had given me a chance, and had been so patient with me, letting me set the pace through those eight months.” It had been hard, letting Max set the pace of the relationship early on. But you have been patient with him because you felt like he was worth waiting for. You felt him grip your hand tighter, his thumb tracing over your fingers like a track that he could drive in his sleep. “This was all before you had found out about Nico, when we were still trying to make us work, flying from London to Monaco just to spend a few hours together, it was also before you had become Nico’s mum.”

As Max spoke you could feel that he wasn’t as nervous to tell you these things. He wasn’t as nervous to let you know what going through those things was like for him. 

“Once you found out about Nico, I felt like I had finally found someone who I could let myself be goofy and joke with. You understand me without me having to tell you things. You don’t push me to talk about things unless I let you. You are my lioness, my mijn leeuwin, protecting our cub, and building us a home while I’m off racing. You are the barrier from the outside world where I don’t have to worry about anything else. I know that you’re there, waiting for me to come home, always.”

Max had reached for the diamond encrusted ring, slowly slipping it onto your finger and then lifted your hand up to his lips placing a kiss on top of the band. He pulled away and you ran a finger over his chin feeling the light stubble under your finger. He gave you a big smile to the point where his eyes crinkled at the sides and watched as his lips slightly trembled.

“I promise to protect that with everything that I have, never take you for granted, to always listen to you, and make you feel like you are the most important thing to me, more than any trophy, or the miles that may separate us when I’m gone.”

“I love you.” You whispered to him when you felt a single tear fall down your cheek.

There were a few silent beats, almost as if the words needed to sink in before the officiant started again.

“Do you Y/N take Max to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day on, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” The officiant asked.

“I do.” You said without any hesitation in your voice.

“And do you Max, take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day on, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickedness and in health, until death do you part?”

“Yes, I do.” Max smiled wide with his words.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The officiant said and then took a small step back. “You can kiss the bride.”

Max took a small step forward and then you did as well. Your lips met Max’s with his hand holding your waist and then dropping to the back of your dress running over the lace detailing and ribbon that made up the back of the corset. Your arms went around his neck pulling him in deeper. The hoots and hollers from the crowd muffled in your ears.

A few seconds later you could feel Nico’s hand drop from the skirt of your dress before you and Max pulled away from each other. You looked out to see that Nico was standing next to Sophie now before you felt Max take your hand so you could walk inside. Max took a few steps and then helped you down from the altar so you didn’t trip in your shoes.

Half an hour after the ceremony, the guests were already inside. Martin was behind the DJ booth with Lando standing by his side.

“I still don’t know why Y/N and Max didn’t take my offer to DJ the wedding?” Lando asked Martin.

“Maybe because I already offered, and it wasn’t as an exchange for a wedding gift.” He said turning down the EQ levels to the track that was playing.

Lando just shook his head before taking a sip of his drink.

“Has anyone seen the bride and groom yet?” Daniel asked Victoria and Tom who were standing a few meters away from Martin

“Not yet. Grand entrance and all.” Tom replied.

Daniel kept walking through the room, making his rounds as best man until he stopped at Sebastian and talked to him for a bit.

“Hey Seb,” Daniel greeted him.

“Daniel,” He greeted the Aussie with a hug.

“Max told me he wasn’t sure if you were gonna come.”

“Last minute RSVP. I wasn’t sure if I was at first. But happy that I could be here to see him settle down and get married.”

“He’s happy that you're here. Just waiting to see him and the Mrs. come down soon.”

“Well, before that, how do you feel about a little bet between former teammates?” Seb asked, placing his arm around Daniel’s shoulders.

“What have you got in mind?” Daniel said, leading Seb towards the bar. He saw Sophie come into the room from outside while holding Nico’s hand. The wedding photographer must have been done with them outside.

A few minutes later the music changed again and two sets of footsteps could be heard against the wood flooring. There was a loud cheer from all of the guests seeing Max and Y/N walk out from under the doorway.

From there the room broke out in upbeat music with people eating and drinking, with people breaking into little groups of conversation while occasionally walking over to the bride and groom to give them their congratulations.

The second course had been placed down on the tables and everyone was sitting in their seats with Daniel moving to stand to the right of Max. 

Daniel gave a loud whistle trying to get everyone’s attention as they were all finally sitting down. “Thanks, thank you.” He started to say before moving to pick up his champagne glass.

“Hey guys, to those of you who don’t know me, I’m Daniel. The best man,” He said, holding the mic up to his lips with his free hand.

“I just wanted to get on here and say a few words about the bride and groom. Maybe a little more the groom then the bride, sorry Y/N.” Daniel saw her give him a little shrug. She didn’t take it personally.

“So yeah, Max. We’ve known each other a long time, since before you first started driving in F1, I think you were like 12?” Daniel joked knowing that Max was 13 the first time they met. “I couldn’t imagine then when we first met that I would be able to be the best man at your wedding to the fox that you just married,” The crowd gave off a few hollers and Daniel could see that Y/N only slightly shook her head at his comment with a light pink flush painting her cheeks. “You were a scrawny awkward looking kid when I met you, and now look at you. Married with a kid. I would be lying if I said there weren’t bets placed today on when there is going to be another one.”

There was a small round of chuckles heard from a few of the drivers in attendance.

“But I digress, mate, you’ve got yourself a good one there.” Daniel further raised his glass. “Y/N, you make Max happy, I just want to let you know that you’ve married into a family that not only loves you but has truly welcomed you with open arms. I hope Max, that you know how lucky you are to have her in your life. Women like her don’t come around every day.”

“To many more years for the two of you, to Mr. and Mrs. Verstappen.” Daniel finished off before everyone took a drink from their glasses.

A few moments later Victoria stood up next to Y/N and started her speech.

“To those of you who don’t know me, I’m not only Y/N’s Maid of Honor but I’m also Max’s little sister. I just wanted to officially welcome Y/N to the family, and let you know how excited I am to have a sister-in-law. I heard a lot about you when you and Max had first started dating. He would always want to talk about you, and when you met Nico it only seemed like he started to talk about you even more. Having said that, Max I love you. But if you screw this up, I get to keep her in the divorce.”

Max let out a big laugh and then reached for Y/N’s hand. She looked at him and he gave her a fake questioning look that said, Something I don’t know about. She just shook her head at him and then Max smiled at Victoria knowing that she was only joking.

“I don’t plan on letting that happen,” He interjected and heard a few chuckles from the rest of the wedding party. Max reached for Y/N’s hand and lightly kissed the back of it.

Victoria let out a laugh, “Regardless, as we’ve gotten to know each other really well over the years. You have truly become like a sister to me, being a sympathetic ear when I need it when it comes to the kids, and always being someone that I can rely on.” Victoria lifted up her glass, “To my brother and sister-in-law.”

Everyone drank from their glasses and Nico and Victoria’s boys drank from the little glasses filled with sparkling apple cider that mimicked the champaign.

Martin had stepped away from the DJ setup with an announcement of the first dance for the bride and groom with Geri taking the mic. Y/N’s eyes widened seeing Geri holding the mic as Max took her hand and led her to the center of the dance floor. Max pulled her into his chest as Geri’s voice filled the room to Ed Sheeran’s Perfect playing as they swayed to the music with him occasionally spinning her.

The song was coming to a slow close when Nico had walked up trying to slip between his parents. Max lifted Nico, dancing with them for a moment. Then set Nico down so he could dance with Y/N for a few moments while he went to dance with Sophie for the next song.

Nico ran off when the song had ended and Christian had walked onto the dance floor. “Do you mind Y/N?”

“Of course not Christian.” She said before he pulled her into his arms.

“I’m sure you’ve heard it plenty of times in the last few days but you’re good for him. Not when it comes to him racing but just for who he is as a person.”

She gave Christian a nod, “He’ll never tell you this, but you’re a second set of parents to him,” She said gesturing to Max who had pulled Sophie onto the dance floor, “and a great grandfather to Nico.”

Christian gave her a nod back and then turned his head to see Daniel standing there.

“Father daughter dance is over. Mind if I cut in?”

“There has been a lot of cutting in.” Y/N said to Daniel.

“You’re in a room full of F1 drivers, it’s going to happen quite a lot.” Y/N rolled her eyes at him and then let Daniel pull her in. Christian walked back to his table and offered his hand up to Geri.

Max had pulled Y/N away from the dancefloor after the fifth driver on the grid had pulled her in to dance with them so that the wedding cake could finally be cut. It was a three tier white cake with the groom in a race suit that was fashioned to look like a tuxedo and the bride standing at his side.

They both managed to interlock their arms taking a bite from the cake, Max’s lips covered in the white ganache frosting and then she lifted the plate to his face and let it smear all over his skin trying to avoid his eyes.

The plate fell away and he had a devious expression on his face and she knew that she was in trouble. He reached for her and pressed a cake covered kiss to her lips before wiping any of the excess cake from their faces.

They left to clean up further and came back to the party with Daniel having the photographer's camera in his hand. He started taking candid photos. Daniel had gotten a picture of most of the wedding party and went looking for Max and Y/N after they had disappeared for a little too long to see them making out by the service entrance to the house and snapped a quick picture before leaving them to their fun.

It was a while later that Max and Y/N rejoined the party long enough to throw the bouquet out into the crowd of young “single” women; Daniel’s longtime girlfriend of two years had caught it and then they made a final round of all the guests before leaving the party. Daniel was the only one whose eyes went to the couple noticing Y/N’s hair fall out of her pin backed look.

“Have a nice time.” Sophie said as Nico stood with his parents holding her hand.

“We will,” Y/N said before Nico reached for her as he pressed his face into the skirt of her dress.

“We’ll be home in two weeks, be good for Oma, okay?” Y/N asked Nico. As they left to get into the car to leave for the hotel for their early morning fight, Nico gave her a nod and hugged Max with a silent goodbye hanging in the air, giving his parents a final wave.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca, @princessria127, @mysticalnightenthusiast, @green-thots, @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp, @ellelabelle, @lilypat, @dreamercrowd

[dolliethv]

One Of The Girls.

summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! Hiii, this is a pretty TO long story, I wanted to write something with a lot of sexual tension and a lot of smut, read it calmly and I hope you enjoy it xoxo!!

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!

Word count: about 6k

You weren't sure if attending Jude's party was a good idea, but something inside you—maybe the excitement of Halloween and the thought of celebrating with your group of friends, or perhaps the hope of seeing him—convinced you. Jude's huge, new house in Madrid, decorated with lit pumpkins and fake cobwebs, gleamed in the distance, full of people already enjoying the night.

You stepped inside, and strobe lights danced on the walls, while laughter and music filled the air. You grabbed a drink as you passed by the improvised bar, trying to relax. You hadn’t taken more than two steps when you felt that familiar gaze tracing your body. You slowly turned, and there he was, Jude, leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed solely on you.

You wished the ground would swallow you because your damn group of friends was headed straight toward Jude Bellingham’s group. Of course, they all knew each other.

After your friends had chatted enough with the other group, you decided to take the lead.

"Couldn’t you put a little more effort into your costume?" That was the first thing you asked when you finally looked him in the eyes for the first time that night.

Curious about what he was actually dressed as?

Seriously? A simple cop uniform? You could bet your life on the fact that men have zero originality—they always go for the easy option. Lord, give me patience.

You absolutely hated basic Halloween costumes. Anything that took less than ten minutes and minimal effort didn’t deserve attention. It might seem a bit over the top, but given the number of creative ideas this particular holiday offered, you just couldn’t stand it.

Not when you even designed and made your own costume for the occasion.

But it was funny how quickly Jude changed your mind.

Basic is good. Basic is great. Damn it.

"What’s your costume supposed to be, anyway?" Jude continued, his voice calm but his body still a bit tense.

"It’s Suki from Fast and Furious!" Drew, one of Jude’s friends, shouted loud enough that the music barely muffled it.

He wasn’t even trying to hide his blatant staring, but truthfully, neither of you cared. You turned and headed off with your friends to who knows where.

You knew you looked good. You’d worked particularly hard on your outfit for tonight, so you had no reason to hide. Everything was perfectly planned, from head to toe.

Minutes passed, and you tried to convince yourself there was no reason to panic, but there were a lot of people, and your outfit was a bit too revealing. So, when you felt hands around your waist, you were ready to scream for whoever it was to back off.

"It's me."

Oh my God, you almost had a heart attack.

Jude pulled you against him, your back pressed to his chest, his left hand settling on your hip while his right extended around your shoulder to not-so-gently push people aside. The tall, dark-haired boy didn’t take long to start moving you both, making space with his prominent frame when people were too slow to get out of the way, shoving them until he cleared a path for both of you.

Stupid party, stupid Jude Bellingham. It was his fault you ended up there anyway. Jude may not have seen your face, but he definitely felt how tense you were in his arms.

"Why the bad attitude?"

Bad attitude? You didn’t know much about attitudes, but all your limited knowledge vanished when he pulled you even closer.

You cleared your throat briefly, your words followed by a slight shake of your head.

"Am I the one with the bad attitude?" you replied.

Because truthfully, you’d been on your best behavior since you got to that house. Or at least trying.

Jude loved driving you crazy; he thought you looked damn adorable acting tough at barely 5'1".

"By the way, you look amazing."

It was a great move, saying something so flattering to ease the tension.

"Thanks," you murmured, not caring whether he heard, your eyes glued to the back of the guy Jude was elbowing out of the way.

Two stomped-on feet and a "Are you gonna move or what the hell are you waiting for?" later, you were finally out of the chaos.

Well, as far out of danger as you could be at a party and in a house full of mostly strangers.

However, Jude didn’t stop there. He guided you to what you vaguely recognized as the first hallway on the right, his hands never leaving your body. It wasn’t unpleasant for you, not at all, but you both drew more than a few curious stares. It didn’t bother you much now that your closest friends knew. Other people’s opinions of you were never the most positive anyway, but you were surprised at how little Jude seemed to care, considering it was his house.

When you finally stopped, you found yourselves where you’d suspected a few moments earlier, slightly sheltered from the loud music. There were a few other people around, but they were far enough away not to intrude on your conversation.

Jude released you a few seconds before turning you around and wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you close as he leaned against the wall.

"I like your hairstyle; it’s cute," he said, grabbing a lock of your hair between his fingers. "Scratch that. Actually, I love how sexy you look with your hair down."

You were starting to seriously regret the day you told Jude you wouldn’t mind being complimented daily because it was getting out of hand.

How were you supposed to function properly when Jude kept looking at you with dark eyes?

You swallowed hard, shifting your gaze to the side of his face to avoid dealing with the intensity of his stare. You needed to say something and had to do it now.

"People were staring at us."

Of course, your voice trembled, and of course, out of all the things you could’ve said, you picked the one with the most potential to ruin the moment.

Jude was being very open tonight, and while you didn’t dislike it, it was new and somehow made him even more intimidating. All you could focus on was trying to stay afloat, despite involuntarily melting into the warmth of his touch and the comfort of his voice.

"When you look like that, baby, of course, people are going to stare."

You were getting nervous so quickly that it was unreasonable. Your breathing was already picking up, and butterflies were fluttering, one by one, to the point that you could no longer distinguish between those in your heart and those in your stomach.

This was exactly why you shouldn’t stay away from Jude for too long.

"News travels fast, Bellingham. Especially when you’re the footballer of the moment."

But with Jude, you didn’t have to worry. Jude could take care of both of you, and maybe you shouldn’t trust him, but God, it felt so good to be protected.

You desperately wanted to kiss him. Every brush of his thumb against your skin was electrifying. You needed to be closer, needed more, and this time, it had nothing to do with lust.

It was the kind of need you hadn’t felt before, the kind that demanded an exchange of feelings, even if not through words. Even if you tore off your clothes and pressed skin to skin, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, it wouldn’t be enough. You wanted to be inside Jude’s mind, to share all his thoughts, to experience the unknown, to finally understand each other, but you were too scared.

You couldn’t get there just yet.

"Your costume is stupid," you finally said, your voice coming out a bit more determined.

Jude’s lips curled into a smile, which quickly turned into a laugh that disappeared just as fast, but it was definitely something worth remembering.

"You’re so good at flirting," he purred sarcastically. "Tell me more."

You thought you might be able to keep a straight face, but as soon as you saw him smile, you followed. There was something so addictive about it, maybe the fact that you didn’t see it often, but it definitely made Jude ten times more attractive.

And he was already too attractive to begin with. God.

"It really is stupid," you confirmed your own thoughts, your fingers trailing up to fix the collar of Jude’s cop uniform. "But you look so sexy. I don’t know why I’m so into this kind of stuff."

You knew you weren’t the only one. It’s not for nothing that women love men in uniform.

"You don’t like the uniforms; you like the authority behind them. Or should I say, you’re afraid of it?"

Even though you had the same smile, Jude looked completely different, but he was right. You always felt uneasy around any kind of authority figure.

Watching Jude—with the quite noticeable height and body size difference compared to you, with the sleeves of his uniform stretching around his biceps every time he moved—you couldn’t blame yourself for feeling a bit nervous.

And to top it all off, a pair of very real-looking handcuffs hung from his belt.

So yeah, you gave up your principles about liking the basic for one night, but Jude had chosen a really good costume to spark your imagination.

"Honestly..." Jude grabbed your chin and pulled you even closer, his eyes fixed on your lips. "I wouldn’t mind being a cop if it meant I could make pretty things like you tremble."

As if he needed to be a cop to do that. Idiot.

As if you didn’t already find him intimidating enough without the costume. As if your knees didn’t buckle and your body didn’t heat up every time Jude looked you in the eyes for more than three seconds.

"I think that’d be an abuse of power."

Very socially aware of you, but it might be more believable if you stopped looking at him like you wanted him to take advantage of you. You know it's wrong to think that.

Jude hummed, sliding his thumb over your lower lip before pressing it and pulling it down. The movement was so sudden it made you hiss. It was almost embarrassing how willing you were for Jude to do whatever he wanted, to play with your body however he pleased, without questioning the reason.

"It isn’t if you enjoy it."

Their heads tilted to opposite sides, moving closer with lips tingling from the desire to kiss. You could feel Jude exhale before gently pressing his body against yours and brushing his mouth against yours when—

"Bellingham!"

Both grimaced, and you quickly jumped back, your hands starting to smooth out the wrinkles in your clothes. You didn’t turn around or look at Jude; you didn’t want to know if someone had really seen you and didn’t want to deal with it.

Jude’s friends weren’t the type of people he enjoyed talking to, so it would be weird to find yourself in a situation where you had to pretend to be a bit interested in what they had to say.

"Oh, hey," Jude responded with much less enthusiasm as the sound of footsteps grew louder.

"Good party, man."

You recognized the characteristically deep voice and immediately tried to move a little further from the sound. You opted to take the empty space next to Jude, and to avoid seeming rude, you looked up, meeting Trent Alexander’s eyes before giving a small nod in his direction. The man nodded back with a shy smile resting on your lips.

"Hey y/n, you look great!!" He said.

"Thanks."

You knew him, or at least you knew who Alexander was. In your defense, you knew all the people in your circle of unfortunately extroverted friends. You knew he was a guy with too much money, another footballer, not surprisingly—very attractive—and also much kinder than many other rich and attractive people.

However, you started to feel anxious.

Alexander didn’t seem to notice your discomfort, even after greeting you. But then the guy lowered his gaze, not going below the level of your skirt, but enough to make you wonder— is this guy checking me out?—God, men are all so bold.

Suddenly, Bellingham cleared his throat, subtly but enough to move you a little out of Trent’s view.

Oh, okay.

"Sorry to bother you, but my friend here won’t stop saying she wants to meet the great Jude Bellingham."

Unaware of the presence of someone else before, you moved your gaze to Trent, where a model-like tall girl was giving all her attention to Jude.

You were annoyed by how attractive she was. You couldn’t imagine how she looked in Jude’s eyes. You weren’t a fan of the cliché thought of hating other women over men, but damn, this feeling was hard to handle.

"Can you blame me? He looks even better than I imagined," she said loudly.

Then you looked at how that girl was dressed.

She was obviously someone very bold, and you were all for female empowerment, but if she came any closer to Jude, you’d have to break her neck.

If Jude hadn’t noticed her before, he definitely was now, shamelessly scanning her figure until stopping on her chest a bit longer than necessary. When he looked back at her face, he gave her a playful smile.

"She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. My kind of girl."

Sorry, what? His type of what? Is he really giving me a hint?

A fake and shy smile spread across the unknown girl’s face as she tilted her head slightly and flipped her hair back, exposing more of her neck and collarbones.

"Oh, yeah?" She asked, her voice interrupted by laughter. "What else is your type?"

Me?

The girl started tracing circles with her index finger over the lower part of her collarbone before dragging it down, outlining the beginning of her breasts. They were quite exposed; it was hard not to notice them, but there was no worse way Jude could handle it than staring at them, his expression not hiding what he was thinking.

Bellingham took a step towards her, immediately placing his right hand on her hip without gripping it, just touching a bit, while moving to whisper something in her ear.

There was absolutely no damn way Jude was doing this in front of you, there must be some kind of reality error. No fucking way, you were really holding yourself back from pulling him away from her and giving him a beating.

Once the brunette straightened up, they were both smiling, and you couldn’t hear it, but you read it from the girl’s lips.

"I got lucky tonight."

Well, you had never considered yourself a crazy person, or at least not one who acted out of her mind with no regard for social norms.

Nevertheless, at that moment, you could barely stand.

You had no doubt about it anymore; it was too strong not to recognize, too powerful to ignore. You were jealous, so jealous that all you could think about was violence and all you could see was red.

"I’m leaving," Alexander suddenly said, visibly uncomfortable with the looks being exchanged.

You didn’t even have time to thank him mentally before the girl grabbed his arm as if her life depended on it, sweetly smiling at Jungkook and saying:

"I’ll be waiting."

And with that, they left.

The crowd made them disappear in less than a minute, leaving no trace. All you could focus on now was the unshakable smile on Jude’s face.

You despised him.

None of this was part of the plan.

Jude’s plan was to keep you without sex for a while, make you show how much you missed him, make you feel so needy that you’d give in to anything in seconds. Bellingham thought nothing could compare to the feeling he’d have once he saw your desperation, the ease with which he’d let you go, giving him the upper hand in the situation.

He was wrong.

Something better than a proud version of you was a version willing to admit, to admit that you were jealous, and he made you realize it after this little outburst.

"Where were we?" He asked as if nothing had happened, his attention slowly returning to you, clearly displeased at his side.

-I might have overstepped a bit- you thought. Relax.

Since Jude did everything he could to avoid giving you more than a glance while talking to that girl, wanting to make it as real as possible, he was enjoying watching your reaction.

You stared defiantly at the wall opposite them, obviously trying to transfer all your anger to her instead of Jude.

Seeing you cute probably wasn’t what you was looking for, but Jude found it absolutely adorable.

"Is something bothering you, sweetheart?" He gently brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, his voice laced with false concern.

"No."

It wasn’t a very convincing lie with your teeth clenched and a blank expression on your face.

"Mm, I think it is."

"Good for you."

Jude had to stifle a satisfied smile. The way you responded with the first thing that came to your mind showed you weren’t thinking much before speaking.

"Not in the mood for a conversation anymore?"

You closed your eyes.

But you couldn’t do that, not when it was exactly what you wanted to do. He couldn’t be the first to break, admit his lust, show that he wanted to be with you so much that he’d trample his pride.

Not again.

“You know, I never took you for a jerk who got jealous so easily.”

If it were physically possible, your jaw would be hitting the floor. The air caught in your throat and your lips hung oddly open as you looked at Jude and found the lack of concern on his features.

Being honest was the easiest way to get through to him.

“How dare you?” You asked offended, pushing Jude away as hard as you could.

His balance seemed to falter as you failed to move him an inch, but he did successfully sway on his two feet, before Jude grabbed your wrists.

“How dare I what?” He asked you with an amused smirk. “Does she make you jealous? I was just having a conversation, babe.”

“No, not that.” You finished your statement with an irritated groan, violently breaking free from his hold. “You’re an idiot. Go have a conversation then.”

“Should I?”

The look you gave him only said one thing. “I fucking dare you.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to find her?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm. “You didn’t look at her face even once.”

Well, if it wasn’t obvious, you screwed up. The chances of her living without Bellingham mentioning what you wanted him to not notice were now basically non-existent.

“She didn’t put that on so I would look at her face.”

You had never looked so angry, your head shaking in disbelief and fists clenched on either side of your body. You looked like you were really struggling not to slap him and Jude couldn’t blame you. That was the point, after all.

“Oh, wow.”

He was already on his way to calming her down, his hands reaching for your waist, when you raised his in defense.

“Don’t touch me.”

You even pointed with your index finger in warning, wagging it when Jude didn’t stop.

“I’m not joking, I’ll slap you, don’t touch me- mhppm-”

With one hand around your waist and the other pressing against your jaw, Jude had you backed up against the wall in no time. Despite your earlier threats and your bad mood, you surrendered into his arms quickly, melting into the touch, your soft moans being muffled by Jude’s mouth. The longer it went on, the more eager you became, tugging at his uniform, trying to pull him closer despite your bodies already being together.

When he pulled away, you were a mess. It was being a fight for him to refuse your touch.

“We can go to my room…”

He whispered against you, before moving lower.

“Talk…”

He pressed a kiss against your chin

“I’ll make you laugh…”

And then one on the side of your jaw

“I can make you cum…”

You shuddered at the proposal.

You both knew he wanted it, that was not in doubt. The question was how far he would go to get it.

“You will have my full attention.” With sarcasm.

Another kiss, just below your ear.

“All you need to do is ask.” He made sure you were looking at each other when he spoke, eager to see your reaction. “Tell me you don’t want to see me with someone else.”

You noticed how your body completely gave out, all hope in your eyes. Your excitement was replaced with panic as your pupils dilated and your mouth opened and closed without saying a word.

The offer was so tempting, the promise so real, so possible. I hate it.

You wanted it so badly, but it was a matter of pride and even though you were the prouder of the two of you, it was clear that you still had a hard time taking a step back from him.

“If I need to ask for attention, then I don’t want it.” You replied with a dry tone.

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Your jaw clenched at the implication. You knew it.

With the girl dressed in a bad porn nurse costume.

(...)

“Can you stop looking at him? I’m talking to you.”

The words of Odessa, your best friend, barely reached your ears, your thoughts overwhelming you in an almost pleasurable way.

You watched as Jude’s hand wrapped around an unfamiliar waist for the umpteenth time that night, causing your own fingers to grip your knee tightly.

This time it was a redhead, dressed in something that was more meant to cover the most private parts of her body than disguise, but who were you to judge? Right?

There was clearly a set pattern that you noticed during the time you spent sitting, gaping and staring in Bellingham’s direction. People would come up to say hello, most often women, their hands touching as much as they could without being inappropriate and a few minutes after sharing a few words they would come over with eyes fluttering in a way that could only mean one thing.

The first few times it happened, your heart nearly stopped beating. You were sure you knew what was about to happen next- Jude would take her by the hand and lead her to his bedroom.

But it didn’t happen. Not with the curly-haired brunette, not with the six-foot-eight leggy blonde, not with the one he was feasting on now.

Is he not interested? You asked yourself.

A raspy growl rumbled somewhere deep in your throat before you grabbed your glass and clumsily emptied it down your throat, not caring how the liquid spilled from the corners of your lips and down your chin.

You called out to your friends, as you abruptly stood up, almost tripping over someone sitting between them.

“Let’s dance.”

Your lips formed a smile at the thought of Jude seeing you with someone else. It was childish, yes, but you didn't really care.

You were about to execute your plan, but when you turned around, you found nothing worth your attention. The spot Jude was occupying all this time now had other people in it, no sign of the brunette in sight.

You wished you could say that it didn’t affect you.

So you turned your back on your friends and walked in the opposite direction, your newly gained good mood now ruined. You thought maybe if Jude admitted to being jealous, you could too. It would make it less embarrassing.

If Jude was here, surely he could get something better.

Yes, if Jude was here. If he wasn't fucking someone else.

"Having fun?"

A familiar voice reached your ears, close enough to feel the vibration of the sound, making you shiver, thanking God the place was too dark for anyone to notice as Bellingham's proximity made your entire body shake.

You kept your eyes on the empty glass in front of you not quite sure how you were going to respond with his mood.

Any words or actions from you from now on could be detrimental.

"Don't you want to talk to me?"

Silence.

"Okay, I'll go then."

Jude didn't even move. He didn't pull away, nor did he lean back. He stood right where he was five seconds ago, the same annoyed, mocking smile on his features.

"You're still not jealous?"

You weren't just jealous, you were seething with it.

"I am, actually. Tell anyone and I'll make sure it's the last thing that comes out of your mouth."

Admitting jealousy was a big deal for you, especially since you didn't know if Jude felt the same way. Also knowing what was coming after this.

"There's not much that can brighten my mood right now."you entered the room, "I just needed courage for what I'm about to do." locking it once the door was closed.

When you turned around, your eyes met and Jude felt something he hadn't felt in a while, it felt like he didn't really know anything about you.

He wasn't blind to the progress you'd made in the different areas of your relationship, but there was still a lot left to say, explain, discover, and - in a situation like this, when you seemed to be a completely different person - he was surprised at how much he still had to get to know you.

"Yeah? And can I know what it is?"

He longed to feel you again on other parts of his body and even more so when your hot mouth landed on his mouth as you said-

"Punish you."

It wasn't that it hadn't crossed Jude's mind that you might do something like this all night, but still, hearing you out loud was enough to bring a smug smile to his lips.

"Oh, really?"

It would be a lie to say you didn't find it fun.

Things were definitely taking a different turn than he had planned, but then again, ever since the party started, all of his plans were ruined, so he was surprisingly not opposed to the idea.

He was actually very intrigued.

You hummed in agreement and within seconds your hands were back on Jude's body, this time being bolder and freer with your movements.

It was the first proper touch that night and Bellingham thought he was ready, but he really had no idea how much he had missed this until he experienced it again. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but the feel of your palms and the heaviness of your fingers prevented him from doing so.

Your hands moved in opposite directions, one sliding down his abdomen and the other circling the side of his neck. With the pad of your thumb, you traced circles on his skin, massaging and releasing some of the tension.

He had a hard time trying to keep from getting an erection from the moment he laid eyes on you when you arrived. Now... now it was impossible.

"You know..." you started saying.

Jude heard your whisper, but could barely register it due to the heat that was beginning to creep steadily down his body, fading only for a moment when his belt got in the way, but then coming back stronger, with a grip more powerful than before. Bellingham would be ashamed to admit that his breath hitched as soon as he felt you where he wanted it most.

“I’d rather have these for myself, but you left me no choice.”

It all clicked, both metaphorically and literally, in his brain and out loud, but Jude couldn’t move fast enough to stop it.

The handcuffs were already dangling from the tip of your index finger as you swung them teasingly back and forth in front of his face.

Oh. Interesting.

The way you could overpower Jude in a mere second was wonderful.

“What makes you think I’m going to let you do that?”

You pursed your lips briefly as if contemplating his answer.

“And what makes you think I’m going to ask for your permission?” You replied.

“Maybe that drink was too much after all,” he looked at you with a smirk. “Looks like you’re confusing roles.”

Judging by his expression, you didn’t share the same opinion.

You pushed him until the back of his knees hit the bed.

Jude didn’t stop you or object, instead sitting on the edge as he was pushed down, curious to see how things would play out.

“Are you threatening me, baby?” He asked, leaning back on his forearms.

You looked perfect from every angle, she was so sure of it now.

Your free hand gripping Jude’s jaw and squeezing it a little in annoyance.

“My name isn't ‘baby’.”

You slid your fingers down the side of Bellingham's throat where the smear of a lipstick still rested on his skin.

As you stared into each other's eyes, you looked so angry that Jude couldn't help the heat spreading throughout his insides.

"Wouldn't that make you even more angry, baby?" He emphasized on the nickname on purpose, arching an eyebrow mockingly.

The sound that came out of your throat was quiet, but he didn't miss it.

-Even her grunts are cute.-

"Shut the fuck up."

It was clear that you weren't usually the type to get angry to that extent, and even if you had been, you were the type to never act on it.

"Keep your hands behind your back if you don't want to lose your most prized possession."

You felt it before you understood it - a pressure of something hard and unfamiliar against your crotch. Something unwanted.

And it came, a sign. Not too big, not too flashy, not too obvious, but painful and threatening.

Your foot moved so abruptly that the tip of your shoe met the tip of Jude's cock and hit dangerously close to his balls.

You did it. I got you.

"Good choice."

With one swift movement, his crotch was free again, but his hands were bound at the wrists by the steel rings.

You pushed him down onto the bed and pulled his shirt open, leaving his chest completely bare.

“Shit,” you muttered at the sight. “You’re lucky to be attractive.”

“And you��re lucky to be able to see me like this.”

You sent him a questioning look. “Oh, I am? Who hasn’t gotten to see you like this? Because from what I’ve witnessed, you don’t exactly have a criterion when it comes to who you let undress you.”

“You seem really upset by that thought, sweetheart. Are you scared of having a little competition?”

“And what makes them my competition? They’re not as pretty as me.”

“But they’re a lot more obedient.” He replied.

Pure shit.

There’s nothing Jude likes more than how disobedient you are.

“You know my legs are always open for you.”

"Baby..."

"You know you can take anything you want from me, anywhere you want... any way you want..."

Every syllable that came out of your mouth was filled with confidence. Your fingers caressed his jaw as if he was teasing, barely grazing the skin before pulling away and touching another part.

"You have such a dirty mouth." The boy said.

"You want it around your cock?"

Holy shit, did you really say that?

"Yeah."

You hummed, acting like you were considering it.

"But I think you acted like shit, I don't think you deserve it."

"You're lucky that I'm tied up right now, otherwise I'd fuck you until you were ruined."

You seemed to take it as a compliment, your thighs clenching tightly around Bellingham's hips to feel him better.

"Oh yeah? You wanna fuck me?"

As if his massive erection wasn't proof enough already.

“Yes, baby. So bad.”

His confession brought a satisfied smile to your face.

“You wanna see what I got under there?”

“Show me how pretty you are.”

But you didn’t take off any clothes.

You just started riding one of his thighs, your movements teasing and slow.

“Shit. Take this off me.” The dark-skinned one said.

“And why would I do that?”

God, this was getting so frustrating. Jude wanted nothing more to do than watch you choke on his cock until you remembered how to talk to him properly. You shifted a little on his lap, creating a small but effective friction.

“Baby…”

“Suck.” You claimed.

Shit. Usually, Jude was the one giving the orders. Usually, you were the one with Jude’s fingers inside your mouth, too. He opened his mouth obligingly and you immediately pushed two of your fingers in, letting them rest on the tip of his tongue before pushing them fully into his mouth.

“You like having my fingers in your mouth?”

Jude couldn’t help but like the mess he was turning you into.

You withdrew your fingers without warning and brought them to your own mouth, sucking and moaning lewdly as you looked directly into Bellingham’s eyes.

“You’re so fucking dirty.”

Your hand trailed until it was just above your breasts, eyes still on Jude’s as you squeezed your tits.

Jude didn’t even have time to react before he saw you move up your own body and rub through the material covering your pussy, touching up and down a bit teasing the boy in front of you, leaving a wet spot when you pulled your hand away.

“Move your hips for me. Can you do that for me?” That innocent tone you set made Jude explode. And he didn't need to be told twice.

He put all of his weight on his arms, his palms and heels sinking deep into the mattress, and he lifted his hips so hard that you jumped a little on his lap.

Without further ado, he thrust up, fast at first, to give you a taste of his desire, but then slower, nicer, dragging his length over your underwear-covered clit.

You decided to go a little further and freed Jude's cock, so damn big and veiny. You pulled off your underwear and started rubbing yourself. It was so damn delicious the difference in size and how the head of Jude's cock rubbed against your clit.

But what kind of punishment would it be, giving him something he so craved? You knew. You had prepared better.

So when you forgot about everything except the repetitive motion you were supposed to follow, when your moans were finally released loud and clear in the way only he had heard them before, when he could already feel the pleasure, you lifted your hips.

Bellingham groaned in frustration, closing his eyes as he fucked into the air, unable to stop his body from seeking the orgasm he had just been denied.

“Untie me this very instant.”

He may not have sounded angry at his ragged breathing, his body still recovering from the denial, but he was and he would gladly show you how terrifying he could be if he gave him the chance.

You smiled sweetly, dropping your weight onto his lap, a movement so sudden it left him breathless.

“No.”

"I wasn't-" He trailed off, a small sound escaping his mouth from another roll of your hips on his axis. "I wasn't asking."

"Fuck, did I tell you how big you are?" You replied, your small body shaking as you pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. "You should learn not to play with me Bellingham, I'm not one of those girls, don't get wrong with me."

You pulled up your underwear and pulled back up the shorts that barely covered your ass and the small miniskirt accompanied by a pink belt that was hooked with straps to the leggings that reached just above your knee.

"Shit, shit, shit..." He replied frustrated.

"I'm sorry but now you'll have to fix this on your own." You turned around and walked away.

Jude Bellingham is totally lost.

[idolomantises]

when designing characters, whats ur thought process behind them?

My first thought is personality, then occupation. Then try to incorporate that into the design. I’ll use my Beelzebub redesign for example. (Pulled this from insta because I don’t have the file on hand):

She’s described as a party girl and an animal trainer, so I tried to mash the two designs together. The typical uniform with fluffy boots and a uniform that is pulled back rather than around her body

Because she’s described as an animal trainer and very close to the hellhounds, I implemented animal elements while still keeping the bee design. A long tail to both emulate an animal’s tail and a whip (hence why it’s so skinny), She has tiger stripes instead of regular bee stripes to simulate animal patterns, 4 limbs instead of 6 when relaxed (like the hellhounds), and her wings function as a big cape when in its relaxed mode.

Big white fluff to emphasize the performer element, but also because Bees are very fluffy themselves. I wanted her to look like a Bee (even gave her a thorax in some very rough sketches), but decided not to go all the way, keep that animal/demon aesthetic to her.

Skull in the back as a badass design but also because the original Beelzebub fly had skulls on his wings. He was also beefy as hell as a human which is why (gestures to the left side).

Spiral eyes because… well tbh that was just pulled from my own lore. Spiral eyes represent power in Monsters in Girls, also they look cool.

Her hair turns into fire in her “big” mode because fire looks aggressive and powerful compared to the relaxed lava lamp vibe.

Her hair changes colors depending on emotions, to emulate those lava lamps that change colors

Shes also taller than Vortex because well. I mean come on she’s a female bug. She gotta be taller than the male.

I actually wanted to do an animal hybrid alt where she’d be a lion with lava hear, but making her half look would have made me alter the design way more than I had time for, because I still wanted to make it cohesive.

I also tend to do some sketches to really figure out how I want a character to look. Some roughs for example while planning out the design:

(I wasn’t kidding when I said I really enjoyed doing this)

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

“Excuse me sir! There must someone you’ve confused me for!”

Having Angel withdrawal again sorry guys :/ its time for some uhh… prologue stuff?? I think thats right. Anyway! As I mentioned in this lovely post, when sinners die the time it takes for them to wake up in hell and where they wake up depends on how they died. So for Angels case his body was formed in hell in a hospital bed cause thats where he died so theres like fibres and metal in his body from being formed around a hospital bed! This is also going to go into how regenerating and how injuries work so get ready! Basically whatever your body was originally formed and made out of regenerates eventually, you can have scars if theyre really big (uncommon since the injury usually kills you) but if you die again in hell they go away. Angel gets injured quite a lot and none of these injuries are permanent. That isn’t to say you can heal by killing yourself though! If you do die while injured there may actually be lasting complications since bodies in hell are typically made to regenerate while gravely wounded. Its kind of like a fucked up computer so if you have a broken leg and die by say snapping your neck the body may get confused and regenerate bones and such incorrectly. Or it may not! Its hell who knows! Ill likely figure out a more concrete plan and way that it works but at the moment I enjoy this aspect of hell to not have a random cheat code and instead include some body horror. Its hell so like some stuff is probably confusing right??

Back to Angel, later on around season 1 in the rewrite he also has throat surgery to remove his deformed inner fangs and those DO actually stay gone because certain hospitals in hell (usually expensive ones) have tools from sloth that have been permitted by Lucifer. Similar to how Stolas got that lust portal gem or whatever. Angels body wasn’t supposed to form like that and this is a common thing to happen with sinners that die “long-term” and that sounds confusing but it really just means sinners that die in comatose-esque ways like Angel. His body was dying over the course of months (December to March to be exact) so parts of his body formed over complicated or were underdeveloped like the aforementioned fangs (that were originally meant to form inside of his mouth and not his throat) that would randomly bare themselves and stab his own throat, paralyzing Angel temporarily. Other examples would be parts of his legs and smaller stomach.

This is the surgery Angel got by the way (expenses covered by Velvette but thats a whole other plot line)

On top of this I also wanted to draw Angel’s old markings (at least one of them). Prior to Valentino, Angel looked much similar marking-wise to his original comic designs where he was more purple and yellow with all the fun skulls and stripes. Though, with how contracts work in my rewrite, Angel loses the markings and they change into hearts after his contract and cannot return to normal after his contract is terminated. The same is true for Husker and Niffty. This whole piece is really just supposed to capture to horror of waking up after being comatose and you’re suddenly not yourself anymore and also not where you were for the past months and your entire anatomy is changed. Can you imagine waking up without bones??? In 1947??? Id have a breakdown personally!

I also wanted to use green for that sick gross feeling. Kind of the dread you feel before throwing up, but also to represent Angel’s later feelings of envy that I was unable to present in his design. I really like pink characters in green atmospheres if you can’t tell. If I think of more stuff to add to this post I will, but for now it’s just a lot of lore. Hopefully you all enjoy it!

[roses-r-rosie3]

Cool With You

Tim Drake x Parent!M!Reader

Warnings: angst subject, fluff, suggestive bi!reader, struggling!parent!reader, kinda long fic,

Summary: While on patrol, Tim comes across the reader who is being harassed by loan sharks in an alleyway. When Tim saves the reader, he notices a baby is in the reader’s arms and before he can ask any questions the reader walks off. Tim decides to track the reader down and talks to him at the park.

A/n 1: This post is inspired by @strangeshoepatrolbandit

A/n 2: this was originally supposed to be one long story but I decided to split this into separate parts so that you guys had something 😭

Quote: “So… uhh… rough day huh?”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was a dark and stormy night in Gotham and Tim was out on patrol as usual. There was surprisingly nothing really happening that night so Tim decided to call Alfred and just have a chat.

In the middle of their conversation, Tim heard some noises in an alleyway, so he decided to check it out. It could’ve been some rats digging the garbage can for some food, but something in Tim’s gut was telling him that it wasn’t. Lo and behold there were some guys in the alleyway surrounding someone and harassing them.

“Hey fellas, what are you up to?” Tim asked.

One of them immediately turned around and tried to attack Tim. The guy tried punching Tim, but quickly got knocked out. As soon as the first guy went down, the rest of them immediately went after him. One by one, Tim knocked all of them to the ground until it was only him and the person they were surrounding.

“T-thank you so much sir!” The guy said.

Tim took a moment to look at the guy’s face. He looked so handsome, so innocent. Were those people trying to mug the poor guy or something? But that’s when Tim noticed that the guy had a baby in his arms. Who’s baby was that? It couldn’t possibly be the guys, he looked far too young to even be a father.

“Is that a bab-”

“Sorry I have to go” the guy said quickly before walking off quickly.

Tim didn’t even have time to process what you said before you zoomed away. When Tim finally came to his senses, he tried to see if you were nearby, but you disappeared. That was really weird.

After that night, Tim couldn’t stop thinking about that guy. He was stuck in Tim’s head, so much so that Tim decided to do some research and try to crack who that guy was. After weeks and weeks of investigating, Tim finally found out who the guy was.

A guy named y/n l/n. A former college student who dropped out due to unknown reasons. You used to be the top of your class, you would’ve even been valedictorian. But one day you just dropped out without an explanation.

Tim found out that you worked several part-time jobs to pay rent for your crappy apartment. He felt bad for you, from what he’s seen, you came from a wealthy background, you had good looks, good grades, good friends, and a good social status. But what happened? Why was that baby in your arms? What did those guys want from you?

Those are the questions that Tim wanted to find an answer to. He decided that he was going to follow you for a whole week, just to get an idea of your schedule so that he could “accidentally” bump into you.

He found out that you just worked the whole day, but the only time you weren’t working was to go home, and to go to the park to relax during your break. Bingo, he knew exactly what he was going to do. For the first time in a while, Tim actually made sure to get a good nights sleep beforehand. What were you doing to him?

It was the day that Tim was planning to “accidentally” bump into you. Tim was feeling really happy and giddy, was it because he finally got a good night’s rest or was it because he was excited to see you?

You usually walked into the park around 3:30pm so Tim just had to wait for you to sit on the bench where you usually sat. When you finally arrived you immediately sat down at your designated bench.

Tim felt a bit nervous at first, was he being too creepy? Should he have just let you be? But regardless, Tim took a deep breath before walking up to you.

“Hey can I sit here?” Tim asked.

“Yeah, of course” you smiled.

Tim sat down awkwardly and you both sat there in silence for a good five minutes before Tim spoke up.

“So… uhh… rough day huh?” Tim said.

“Don’t even get me started” you chuckled.

“Work problems?” Tim “guessed”.

“Yeah, I work all day. I barely have time to spend with my kid, he spends more time with my neighbors than he does with me” you joked.

“You have a kid?” Tim said.

“Yeah, I accidentally got a girl pregnant when I was at a party. We decided to keep it but she didn’t want to be a mom so she gave up her parental rights. I don’t blame her but it’s kinda hard you know?” You confessed.

Tim started putting the pieces together in his head slowly but surely. The reason why you dropped out was to take care of the baby.

“I-I’m sorry if I overshared” you apologized.

“No, no, you’re fine, how’s life like with the baby? Tim asked.

“It’s pretty hard, but I’ll always be grateful that I have him, I honestly don’t know what I would do” you chuckled.

“What’s his name?” Tim asked.

“Theo” you smiled, thinking about the image of your child.

“That’s a wonderful name” Tim complimented.

“Thanks” you said.

It went silent again and for some reason, Tim just felt attached to you. He wanted to get to know more about you, but not in a “I need more information about him” kind of way, more like a, “I want get to know more about him” kind of way.

“Hey uh, I can watch him for you if you want to” Tim suggested.

“It’s fine I don’t want to trouble you, and I’m pretty low on money right now, so I wouldn’t really have anything to pay you with” you replied.

“I can do it for free” Tim said.

“Really? Thank you so much, you have no idea how much that means” you exclaimed.

I know what you’re thinking, ‘why would you just trust some random stranger that you just met with your baby?’. Something in your gut was telling you to let him.

“My name is Tim by the way” Tim smiled.

“Y/n” you smiled back.

You pulled out your phone to check the time, and your break was almost over already!

“Shit, sorry but my break is almost over” you said.

“Can I get your phone number before you go?” Tim asked.

“Oh, yeah sorry about that” you said before typing in your number on Tim’s phone.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then” you smiled before waving bye to Tim.

Tim looked on as you slowly walked away. When you were finally out of his eyesight he started looking back on the conversations until he realized something….

HE OFFERED TO BABYSIT! Tim couldn’t even take care of himself properly! Let alone a baby! WHY?! WHY WOULD HE DO THIS TO HIMSELF!

Tim took some deep breaths before slowly calming down. Who knows maybe babysitting won’t be that hard. He spent the whole night looking up videos of how to change diapers and take care of a baby. All he could do now is pray that all we go well….

[nickistuffs]

A Reminder to Breathe

Pairing: Harry x Designer reader (curvy or plus size whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference 😌)

Summary: After pushing themselves to the brink of exhaustion with work, Y/N finds an unwavering source of comfort in Harry

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None. Fluff slight angst.

✨masterlist✨ read the rest of Harry x Designer Reader there

...

Everything felt overwhelming, chaotic, and messed up. The weight of it all pressed down on you, and all you craved was his presence—his soft voice to soothe you. But no, here you were, at work, running yet another onsite project.

Today had been a whirlwind. You’d spent hours running around town with one of your contractors, picking up materials for a clothing store your client was planning to open. It was a job you loved, but exhaustion always crept in. From overseeing your team’s work to managing quality control, it seemed like there was never an end.

Then the client arrived to check on the progress.

“Hey, Y/N! How’s everything going?” he greeted with a smile, eager for an update.

“All is going well,” you replied, trying to keep the exhaustion out of your voice. “We’re on schedule and already planning the next steps to avoid any confusion.”

As you wrapped up your conversation with the builders, he wandered over to a wall where your plans were laid out, studying every detail of the room’s design. When he spoke, his tone was casual but firm.

“Y/N, is this what you initially planned for this section of the room?”

You walked over, confirming his observation. “Yup. I’m actually really excited about this part. That’s why I wanted to be here in person to give specific directions.”

He studied the layout for a moment before his eyes flicked back to you. “Well, I don’t think it’s popping like I imagined. Can you change it?”

Your heart sank. The audacity of this guy to change everything with the snap of his fingers. Your blood boiled as you held your ground.

“Well,” you began, keeping your voice steady, “it’s easier said than done. We’re already behind schedule from the last round of revisions. And honestly, the deadline you set won’t align with the store opening unless we stick to the original plan.”

You met his gaze, frustration creeping into your expression as you tried to make him see reason.

“I’m your client, Y/N,” he snapped, his tone growing colder. “I’m paying you, and people keep saying you’re the best. So, I expect new plans for this section in four days. Got it?”

With that, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, fuming.

Henry, your contractor, noticed your irritation and patted your back in a supportive gesture. “You do what you need to do, Y/N. I’ll start on whatever can be done now. We’ll finish this and have another meeting afterwards.”

You nodded but couldn’t shake the frustration. As much as you loved your work, dealing with clients like this always felt like a battle. Gathering your things, you left the site, knowing you had a long night ahead. At least you could take some time to breathe before diving back into the chaos.

Two days had passed, and you had barely stopped working. It was nonstop, relentless. Sketching, adjusting, planning, and coordinating—your life had become a blur of blueprints and emails. You weren’t even sure when you last ate a proper meal. The only thing you knew for certain was that your body ached, your head pounded, and sleep had become a distant luxury.

You barely had time to check your phone, and it wasn’t until you glanced at it, seeing the unread messages, that guilt settled in. You hadn’t replied to Harry.

Harry, who always checked in. Harry, who had probably noticed your silence by now.

At that very moment, Harry was at Felice’s, ordering lunch for both of you, worry evident on his face.

“Hey, Harry, how’s Y/N?” Felice asked, handing over the order.

“I actually don’t know,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “We haven’t been in touch for two days, so I’m worried.”

Felice frowned, glancing toward the kitchen. “That’s not like them.”

Harry sighed, picking up the bags. “Yeah. I know they’re busy, but… I don’t know. I just hope they’re okay.”

With that, he left, heading straight to your place, determined to check-in. Because if you weren’t going to take care of yourself, then he would.

Harry knocked on the door of your workshop, the sound cutting through the quiet hum of your overworked computer. You blinked, your bloodshot eyes straining from hours of staring at the screen. Your glasses had slid down your nose, and your hair was shoved into a messy bun, strands falling loosely around your face. The weight of exhaustion pressed heavily on your shoulders, but the knock startled you enough to jolt upright.

When you opened the door, you were met with Harry’s concerned gaze. His eyes swept over you, taking in your disheveled state, and his brows furrowed.

“Y/N…” he said softly, stepping inside before you could protest.

“You—what are you doing here?” you stammered, genuinely surprised by his presence.

Harry sighed, lifting the bag of food. “You haven’t answered me in two days. Felice is worried. I’m worried. And looking at you now, I was right to be.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling exposed. You hadn’t realized how bad you looked until you saw the concern written all over his face. He set the food down on your cluttered desk and reached out, gently squeezing your shoulder.

“Come on,” he said. “Eat first. Then we’ll talk.”

And for the first time in days, you let yourself breathe.

After finishing your food, you felt energy returning to your body, the warmth of a real meal helping to shake off some of the exhaustion. Instinctively, you pushed your chair back, ready to dive back into work.

But Harry’s hand was on your wrist before you could stand, stopping you.

“Y/N,” he said firmly, his voice laced with concern. “You’re working yourself to the bone. Did you sleep here?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his sharp gaze told you he already knew the answer. The messy pile of blankets in the corner, the half-empty coffee cups littering your desk—it was obvious.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s what I thought.”

His disappointment stung more than any lecture. You wanted to argue, to tell him you were fine, that you had deadlines to meet. But the exhaustion settled deep in your bones, and for once, you didn’t have the energy to fight him.

“Come on,” he said, tugging you gently to your feet. “You need sleep, not another round of revisions.”

You hesitated, looking at your screen, but Harry squeezed your hand. “Please, Y/N.”

And somehow, that was enough to make you nod, letting him lead you away from your desk and toward the rest you desperately needed.

...

Harry drove you back home, the soft hum of the car’s engine lulling you into much-needed rest. The moment your head rested against the window, exhaustion took over, and you drifted off into a deep sleep. Harry glanced at you briefly, his expression softening. You had pushed yourself too hard, and he wasn’t going to let you do it alone anymore.

As he pulled up to your place, he gently shook your shoulder. “Y/N, we’re here.”

You stirred, eyes heavy with sleep. He smiled slightly. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” As you stepped into your apartment, the weight of exhaustion hit you like a wave. Without a word, you shuffled straight to the bathroom, desperate to wash away the stress of the past few days. The warm water felt like a small mercy, soothing the tension in your muscles as you changed into your softest pyjamas.

Meanwhile, Harry moved around your kitchen with quiet efficiency. He set a kettle on the stove, pulling out your favorite tea blend and preparing a mug. As the water heated, he glanced toward the bathroom door, listening for any signs of movement. His worry hadn’t faded—not entirely—but at least you were home, taking care of yourself, even if it was just for a moment.

When you emerged, looking slightly more refreshed but still utterly drained, Harry held out the steaming cup. "Drink this," he said gently. "Then we’ll talk about getting you some real rest."

You took a slow sip of your tea, the warmth spreading through your chest as you settled onto your bed. The familiar comfort of your mattress made you realize just how much you had missed it. Your body ached in relief, sinking into the softness, but before you could relax completely, Harry sat beside you, his expression unreadable.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Y/N… I'm disappointed in you. You didn’t reach back to me in two days. Two days. Do you know how worried I was?"

His voice wasn’t harsh, but the weight of his concern settled heavily between you. You stared down at your tea, guilt creeping up your spine. You hadn’t meant to shut him out—it just happened, lost in the whirlwind of work. But looking at him now, at the way his brows furrowed and his jaw tensed, you knew you had to say something.

"I'm sorry, I know... I just had to finish it," you mumbled, the words spilling out in a tired rush. "My client really laid it on thick, saying that I was ‘the best’ and that I should do whatever I needed to do. I didn’t want to let them down."

You rambled, voice cracking slightly from exhaustion. You weren’t even sure if you were making sense anymore, but the need to justify yourself clawed at your chest. Harry sighed, his gaze unwavering as he studied you. He knew you loved your work, knew how much passion you poured into every project—but he didn’t think you would go this far. That you would sacrifice your own well-being for it.

He shook his head, his voice softer now. "Y/N… being the best doesn't mean running yourself into the ground." That's when the waterworks started. Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as the weight of exhaustion, pressure, and the looming deadline finally broke through. A choked sob escaped your lips, and you buried your face in your hands, overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I know I need to work on this—on asking for help instead of trying to do everything alone."

Harry didn’t hesitate. He immediately pulled you into a firm, reassuring hug, his warmth grounding you as he gently rubbed your back. "You're not alone, Y/N. You don’t have to carry all of this by yourself. I’m here, always."

His words broke something in you, and you clung to him, letting yourself feel everything you had been holding in for too long.

You sniffled against his shirt, his steady presence grounding you as exhaustion seeped deeper into your bones. "Thank you for looking out for me, Harry," you murmured, voice thick with emotion.

He pressed a reassuring hand against your back, his touch warm and familiar. "Lie down, Y/N. You need to rest."

You nodded, too drained to argue, and let yourself sink into the comfort of your bed. Just as you were about to close your eyes, Harry hesitated before speaking, his voice softer this time. "Can I stay? Just for tonight?"

You blinked up at him, surprised but comforted by the thought. "You don’t have to—"

"I want to," he interrupted gently. "I just want to make sure you’re okay."

A small, grateful smile formed on your lips as you shifted, making space for him. "Okay. Stay."

Harry settled in beside you, the quiet of the room wrapping around you both like a cocoon.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. It painted golden streaks across the sheets, illuminating the quiet intimacy of the space. Harry stirred first, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he registered the familiar weight pressed against him—the quiet rise and fall of your breath against his chest. It took a moment for reality to settle in—he was still in your apartment, still in your bed, and still holding you close.

His arms were wrapped around you protectively, your body curled into his warmth, and he found himself reluctant to move. He had been in relationships before, had woken up next to others, but this—this was different. There was no rush to slip away, no lingering regret or fleeting connection. With you, it felt natural. Easy. Like he belonged here.

His gaze flickered to your sleeping face, the exhaustion still evident in the delicate creases around your eyes. He thought back to the past few days, to the way you had pushed yourself beyond reason. He saw you pour every ounce of yourself into your work, into the people you cared about, until there was hardly anything left for yourself. It was a pattern he knew all too well too, and one that made his heart ache in ways he never expected. And yet, despite everything, here you were—peaceful, safe, finally resting.

Harry exhaled softly, running a hand through his unruly hair, the strands falling messily over his forehead. He never imagined he’d feel this way—that he’d want to take care of someone as much as he wanted to take care of you. The thought sent warmth flooding through his chest, an unfamiliar yet welcome sensation. He had always been the one to keep his heart guarded, to tread carefully in matters of love, but with you… there was no fear, no hesitation. Just certainty.

His fingers traced lazy circles over your back, reveling in the way you instinctively nuzzled closer, seeking him even in sleep. He smiled, something soft and tender curling at the edges of his lips. He wanted to memorize everything about this moment—the way the sunlight framed your features, the way your fingers clung lightly to his shirt, the way your presence alone filled every empty space inside him.

Carefully, he shifted just enough to press a lingering kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin as if sealing an unspoken promise. He knew the world would call you both back soon, that the quiet sanctuary of the morning wouldn’t last forever. But for now, he let himself sink into the comfort of you, of this shared warmth, of the undeniable truth settling in his chest.

He wanted to be here for all of it—the bad, the good, in every way—just be with you.

...

Take your time lovelies. <3

[read-write-thrive]

edwina / edith in her lingerie as inspired by @hannaloony and @arisprite ‘s fanart !!! this one’s on the simpler side but I’m planning to do a companion piece with charlotte (and might do more with the backgrounds to really sell the whole “getting ready in their respective eras” thing, not sure yet) and hopefully doing something a little more suggestive with the both of them, again inspired by @hannaloony ‘s piece but using my own interpretations of fem!payneland w/ butch!edwina and fem!charlotte bc i love them

(side note: I know everyone is using Edith and not Edwina but I think Edwina suits my interpretation better for some reason ?? something about ppl hearing “Edwina and Charlie” and getting jumpscared when Edwina is the butch is funny to me,,, still undecided if she uses any nicknames but I’m open to suggestions lol)

previous artwork I’ve done of these characters can be found here: part one (original duo piece) ; part two (alt outfit for Edwina, Edwina sketches) ; this is part three! ; part four (lingerie!Charlotte ;)

notes on the costuming choices for anyone interested:

- i specifically designed these undergarments to work under either of the outfits I’ve given her so far!!

- I decided on combinations as her base layer as they were seen as younger/more casual/athletic, all of which im aiming for with this design. technically these are probably too plain for the era, especially if she was attending a girl's college/finishing school where sewing and adorning and the like would have been taught, but I wanted to keep the masculine energy so I figured some ruffly hems and blue ribbon was a good enough middle ground

- the color palette is inspired by several reproductions I’ve seen online as well as keeping with Edwin’s blue color motif/existing palette

- researching the corset took AGES so here’s a rundown: I wanted it to keep with the casual/sportswear look so I went with a sports corset, meaning it wouldn’t have any hard boning (it was just the hella reinforced material without the actual bones/metal), would have elastic at the sides, and would most likely be an overbust corset despite that not being the trend during the Edwardian era (for the most part/to my knowledge). the examples I was inspired by of sports corsets technically didn’t have visible garters, but literally every other corset I saw did and I can't imagine why sports corsets would have to have the more impractical thigh garters ??? surely you also want to keep your stockings up when running around ??? so I gave them to her anyway

- im keeping the socks/stockings the same as my other illustrations but honestly i struggled to find similar historical examples :/ surely someone at some point wore some heavy duty knit stockings, but maybe my idea of knit is just different from how knit garments, especially socks, were in the era ? regardless im keeping them like this, especially since Charlotte has pantyhose on and I feel like silk/cotton stockings would look too similar

- i went back and forth on a corset cover, but ultimately went without one bc 1. it gave me a more interesting way to pose her lol and 2. i couldn't tell if corset covers (and similar garments that went over top what we have here) would have been worn with athletic attire ? like I have her in bloomers in both of her outfits thus far so I figured no petticoat or slip, but early brassieres/corset covers/bust improvers/etc are just a big ??? from me

- a note on her hair: so if you look at all three of my illustrations of her you’ll see that her hair is totally consistent and while I can try to say that’s intentional it’s really just bc I keep going back and forth on little details about it. for example, in the first illustration her ears are completely exposed vs in the second they’re mostly covered—the exposed ears read as more butch to me but also would’ve been pretty inappropriate and I wasn’t sure if that’s an area would Edwina would rock the boat too much, hence me going back on it in the second illustration. also, I’ve gone back and forth several times before on it her hair is actually cut short or if it’s worn in a faux/“nervous” bob (which I just learned that name for lmao). on one hand, having it actually cut short is 100% more butch and leans into the practical/athletic vibes. on the other hand, it would be a drastic move for a repressed, bullied, 16 year old at an all-girls school to pull, plus it would put her ahead of the trend by several years. in the end, I think of it this way: the Edwin that we meet reads as effeminate to a modern audience, but 80% of that is through mannerisms, not direct costuming, and even what we do get from costuming is skewed bc we are a modern audience perceiving an Edwardian subject. so I figured sticking Edwina with traits she could wear as either masc or fem but chooses to wear bin a more masculine style would shorthand that sort of how-you-wear-it approach to gnc (plus I’ve been there done that when closeted so it felt extra fitting)

- that whole rant aside: I went with the faux bob but, in the name of her being in the process of getting ready, wanted to show it in a half-done state that we would never see Edwina in otherwise ! the idea with the undone side is that she’s taken out the rags she wore her curls in overnight (I don’t see her using heat but if she did it would be before this) but only tucked half up before putting her corset on. is that the actual order of how you would/should do this? fuck if I know. I also am not 100% certain if the curl pattern/hair density is accurate between one side of her head and the other, but without an exact reference this is the best you’re getting

- speaking of things being out of order, I do know that if you’re deciding to don a corset anytime soon, it’s best to put your shoes on beforehand! especially if they’re lace-up boots like our girl here wears, as bending over in a corset to tie them is not fun. thankfully, she’s in a sports corset so it wouldn’t be too bad, plus she has to step into her bloomers so I figured keep her in her socks was the right choice

- there’s a halfhearted attempt at a background here with some dark wood panelling and red/orange/brown tones thats honestly just me wanting some contrast/interest while also keeping it simple. we'll see if i do anything more complicated than that anytime soon lmao, these pieces take long enough as is !!

hopefully tumblr doesn’t fuck up the cut (again) so not everyone has to read all of this, but tysm to those of you who do!! I put a lot of thought and research into these pieces and love sharing what info I find so feel free to talk to me about any and all of it !!!! and hope you enjoyed ofc

[bloomeng]

Shout out to the person who noticed Steph was the only one in heels and said Dick would totally wear heels. You didn’t know it but you were ahead of your time (it was always my plan to put discowing in heels).

Steph originally wasn’t going to get heels but then I got the idea to add the wings and I fell in love but I think the in universe reason is she wanted them for the drama and she was extrapolating design elements from Batgirl’s og outfit and Batwoman. I was going for like a gothic princess sort of vibe which turned out a bit more Fischl from gi than I intended, but I think that actually suits the vibe pretty well.

Another shoe detail: Jason’s shoes are meant to be slight platforms to match his desire to be tall and imposing.

This is a side tangent but I want to talk about it. For this au I’ve been trying to strike a balance between feminine and “would this character actually wear this?” Now the answer is mostly no. The outfits by nature are impractical as hell bc that’s how magical girl media is, so the question I’ve been asking is more “would this character feel comfortable in this outfit?” I want each look to be equally feminine which means I’m hyper conscious of not making the women more feminine than the men. Magical girl designs are hyper fem by default so my goal is to basically make everyone relatively the same amount of fem.

However, I’m also trying to take into account personality. This is where I might lose some people but hell it’s my au. So why are Jason and Cass the only ones so far with real skirts? This is totally my headcanon but I think they’re the only ones who would benefit from skirts:

Dick would be fine with wearing a skirt but I think he’s ultimately neutral about it. He would totally do it though if someone asked and would be fully aware of how nice he looked.

I don’t know if I’d say Tim would like wearing skirts so much as he doesn’t care. He’s more concerned with practicality.

Steph doesn’t have any issues with skirts but I think as a part of her uniform she would feel stifled. As as I said previously I think part of her look is based on Bats she would’ve looked up to but also partly it was secret wish fulfillment for that little girl who would’ve loved to look like a kickass mary sue demon princess from a y/a novel.

Duke in my opinion wouldn’t see the appeal. I think he’d be similar to Dick but just a little more shy about wearing one. I gave him a little ruffle though bc I thought it was cute.

Babs is fine with skirts but tends to prefer pants.

Cass is a bit different because I think wearing something frivolous is so novel to her. I wanted her outfit to be a blend of her canon design and her appreciation for dance. I tried to contrast her more practical elements (like her pants and armor) with the soft things I think she would enjoy (like a flowy skirt.) I still have ambition to go back and design a Black Bat outfit for her but I haven’t quite figured out the direction I want to take with it.

Jason on the other hand— this also very much in hc territory— I think didn’t know how much he would enjoy a skirt until he got to wear one. Stepping away from the universe for a sec; Jason is the most masculine design fundamentally which means that in order to match the vibe I would have to make him the furthest from his canon design. I’m really not trying to make a statement or subvert things by putting men in skirts bc it’s supposed to a silly au with aesthetically pleasing designs. I like feminine things and it shows in my work however I don’t see clothing as naturally gendered. That’s my little context psa back to my point. I think Jason is the most likely to wear a skirt and actually feel empowered by it. At first I think he was embarrassed by it but the outfits choose you so he just went with it out of necessity. And through that he found he really thrived in the juxtaposition between his intentional imposing figure and this unashamed femininity. He’s a drama kid at heart and fr what’s more dramatic than an ill-advised fit that serves. The skirt to him feels like a costume that helps give him the confidence to be Red Hood or ig… Red Bow. (Which is sorta how I think of the red helmet in canon but I also do believe that Jason and Cass would have the most fun wearing a skirt.)

I haven’t decided if Bruce will get a skirt or not but if he does just know that my reasoning is that his artifact was humbling him. Like you take yourself too seriously calm down with the brooding. He would use the skirt as a way to conceal more weapons.

(I think Kon would love wearing skirts but in this au because he built his own outfit I think he was trying to seem impressive and edgy and distinguish himself from Clark. I also think, despite enjoying skirts, he would have to work up the courage to wear them in public and never as Superboy because he would be too conscious of his image.)

Anyway I don’t claim to always succeed with my intentions coming through in my work but this is what is running through my head.

[in1-nutshell]

Hey it's me again sorry if I'm overwhelming you with my multiple asks what could you do more old Predacon buddy with maybe just hanging out with the kids and stuff along with they're adopted son aka preking (I hope I'm saying his name right) Just some wholesome fluff and possibly make sure ratchet actually recharges and doesn't stay up all night working including the Optimus and the others old Predacon buddy has those sweet old Southern Grandpa vibes or you could do some old Predacon buddy interacting with Megatron during his glory days or something similar to that whatever you choose I'm not really picky also Make sure not to overwork yourself and make sure to hydrate every now and then and eat something at least healthy =]

They are back!

Caution: Grandparent vibes nearby

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Old Predacon slice of life

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

It had been a rather busy month on base.

After the latest Decepticon mining activity, all the Autobots were on edge and running around like crazy.

Buddy mainly took care of the humans while everyone was busy on base. They swear if they didn’t have such an eye sore of an alt mode, they would pick up the kids instead of having to remind some of them to do it themselves.

Buddy lumbering around the console behind Bulkhead.

“Bulkhead? What are you still doing here?”--Buddy

“What do you mean?”--Bulkhead

“Bulkhead why isn’t Miko here? Is she sick?”--Buddy

“She at school today.”--Bulkhead

“Bulkhead its Saturday. Miko doesn’t have school.”--Buddy

“…”--Bulkhead

Bulkhead transforms quickly and drives out.

Buddy shaking their helm at Ratchet.

“Kids these days.”--Buddy

“You said it.”--Ratchet

“You count too Ratchet.”--Buddy

Ratchet raises an optic at Buddy and vents a bit.

“You may be old by these young bots but don’t forget I’m the eldest here.”--Buddy

“Yet you try to do things a young bot would. It’s not good for your joints.”--Ratchet

Buddy gentle flicks Ratchet in the back of the helm with their tail.

“My frame allows some extra movement.”--Buddy

Buddy stretches their arm.

SQUEAK!

“…”—Buddy and Ratchet

“…Buddy—”--Ratchet

“Not a word Ratchet. Not. A. Word.”--Buddy

Buddy knew that entertaining the kids with stories was only going to go so far. Especially when their guardians could stay with each of the children for long.

It was frankly getting on Buddy’s nerves.

It finally reached their limit when Movie Night came around.

The kids had gotten permission to spend the night at the base.

The original plan was to have a movie night with everyone.

Just some quality time with one another catching up on everything.

But it looked like most of them had forgotten about it.

Buddy didn’t like this. At. All.

And their spark broke a little seeing their disappointed faces.

Buddy looking down at the kids.

“Kids meet me at the exit with the gear.”--Buddy

“The gear?”--Jack

“Yes, you which one I’m talking about. Meet me over by the exit, we’ll have that Movie Night when we are done with it.”--Buddy

Once the kids came with the gear, Buddy knelt and had them climb on using their magnetic seatbelts.

These were almost light the Earth car seats but they were specially designed to be placed on Buddy via magnets.

Nothing was going to peel them away from Buddy until the end of any trip.

As soon as everyone was ready Buddy shot upwards.

Did they scare the kids a bit?

Yes, but it was worth it.

Buddy flying through the night sky.

“You seem pretty fast for an old timer.”--Miko

Buddy huffs a bit.

“This old timer still has a few tricks up their metaphoric sleeve.”--Buddy

“Buddy.”--Jack

“But you shouldn’t fly too fast, you can pull something.”--Raf

“Buddy.”--Jack

“Oh, my sweet Rafael, I’m spry for my age.”--Buddy

“Buddy!”--Jack

“Yes Jack?”--Buddy

Jack points forwards.

“Predaking!”--Jack

Buddy wasn’t too bothered by the sight of Predaking.

But they might have forgotten how the kids didn’t know the other predacon like they had.

Soon the two Predacon’s were flapping their wings circling each other.

The clouds around them slowly formed around them.

Through a series of clicks and roars the two talked.

‘Buddy.’--Predaking

‘Predaking, how are you? It’s been too long.’--Buddy

‘Fine Buddy. How are you faring with the enemy.’--Predaking

Buddy huffing.

‘They are not the enemy of mine, Predaking. I’ve told you before.’--Buddy

Predaking’s turn to huff.

‘There’s a reason you wanted to talk isn’t there?’--Buddy

‘…You know me too well.’--Predaking

‘I would be an awful ‘grandparent’, as the humans say. At least that’s how I remember the saying.’--Buddy

Predaking huffs.

‘I have been considering… leaving the Decepticons.’--Predaking

Buddy raising their optics.

‘You have?’--Buddy

‘Yes.’--Predaking

‘I can put a good word in with the Auto—’--Buddy

‘No. At least… not now…’--Predaking

Buddy nods.

‘You still need time. I understand. Just let me know, okay?’--Buddy

Predaking nods and flies the other way.

Buddy huffs a bit.

“What.”--Jack

“Was.”--Raf

“That!”--Miko

“Oh yeah I forgot you don’t understand the clicks yet.”--Buddy

“Yet?”—Raf

“I will teach you three one day.”—Buddy

“Sick.”—Miko

“What did he want?”--Jack

“He just wanted to talk, nothing more.”--Buddy

They continued their flight before it was time to go back to base.

As Buddy touched down, they could see some of the Autobots come out of the base to see what was going on.

Buddy simply walked inside with the kids still on their back.

Buddy kneeling down so the kids could get down and take the gear off.

“Where were you four?”--Arcee

“Flying around Arcee. It can get stuffy in here.”--Buddy

“You know that someone could have spotted you?”--Arcee

“I am fully aware of that Arcee. I think with one of the largest alt modes here, I’d keep that in mind.”—Buddy

“Then why—"--Arcee

Buddy stands back up to full height.

“I do believe that there was a ‘Movie Night’ that you all needed to attend.”—Buddy

Buddy stretches a bit.

POP!

SQUEAK!

PANG!

“…”—Everyone

“…I’m old, okay. Haven’t you all heard of joints popping?”--Buddy

“Yes, but not like that.”--Bulkhead

Buddy lays down near the projector.

The kids follow with their blankets and pillows.

“Beep boop bop bep? (Do you need to see Ratchet?)”--Bumblebee

“I’m fine. Now let’s watch the movie the children have chosen.”—Buddy

Team Prime give Buddy a side eye, but ultimately gives in.

The Autobots crowd around the projector to watch the movie into the late hours of the night.

Buddy looks around, just happy to have a family together.

[humbledragon669]

S2E1 - The Arrival Write Up P5 - the Present Day from Crowley’s arrival at the coffee shop up to his entry to the book shop

Alright, buckle up, because despite the fact I said I wasn’t going to be so detailed, there is A LOT to cover in these next couple of scenes, and it is ALL about the subtext.

The first thing I picked up on is mere seconds after Crowley gets out of the Bentley, because despite the fact that Aziraphale told him to meet him in the coffee shop (literally 2 minutes previously, if we’re to believe the demon’s time estimates), his reflex is to go straight to the book shop as soon as he���s out of the car:

That is one hard-wired reflex, isn’t it? He’s several steps into his approach before he realises that’s not where he’s supposed to be going. Cute. Not so cute is the foreshadowing that we can see on the board outside the coffee shop:

It’s not easy to make out in this little screenshot, but it reads “Life begins after coffee”. Knowing how intricately designed this series is with the Easter eggs and references, I can’t help but believe this is alludes to what is planned to come in season 3 (after Aziraphale’s coffee). That’s the simple solution. The letters in this simple phrase can actually be rearranged into something else however:

L I F E  B E G I N S  A F T E R  C O F F E E

===============================

I F  C E E  F O R G E T S  I N E F F A B L E

Obviously I would interpret “CEE” as Crowley in this potential Clue, and the reference to “ineffable” being the Ineffable Plan. So expanding the phrase becomes “If Crowley forgets the Ineffable Plan”. But that would mean that the demon either currently knows or has previously known the details of the Ineffable Plan, which is in theory impossible (unless he was also God). And what’s the rest of the sentence? What happens if Crowley’s memory does empty of those details? I don’t have any answers to these questions, all I know is that the ability to rearrange those letters into something that makes incredible contextual sense cannot be coincidental.

This next scene in the coffee shop is one of my absolute favourites across this show - there’s just so much to it! Before we get into the weeds with the conversation that’s about to ensue, I just want to pick up on the background music being used here: it’s an instrumental version of Bohemian Rhapsody, possibly for a string quartet. In the write up for episode 5 of season 1, I hinted that there might be something to look at about music when it’s used as an “in-universe” element (rather than when it’s used as soundtrack for the audience), and this is a great example of that. We know that pretty much all music that plays in the Bentley (at least when Crowley is driving it) is by Queen, whether that was the original choice of the passengers in the car or not. That combined with Queen’s music being frequently used in the soundtrack to represent Crowley means that we, the audience, have come to associate anything that sounds remotely like Queen with the demon. Likewise, we have been given a lot of information to suggest that the same applies to classical music being associated with Aziraphale. What we have in the background of the coffee shop in this scene is an example of the merging of the two very different styles to produce a rather beautiful result, where both styles can be recognised and heard, whilst also projecting an air of individuality of its own. Here’s why I think this is interesting – this is exactly how we’ve come to think of the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale. Furthermore, the fact that the music is playing in-universe here would suggest, if my badly formed (and yet to be written up) ideas about Crowley are correct, that its presence is the demon’s (possibly subconscious) doing in the first place.

One last thing before I start looking at the conversation: How gorgeous is that camera one-shot as it passes “through” the coffee shop window? We see quite a few of those types of shots in this show, and they’re always seamless. The benefit they add to the flow of the storyline is undeniable.

OK, I lied. This really is the last thing before I get to the conversation. I am not ignoring the fact that the walls in the coffee shop could be littered with Easter eggs in amongst all the “graffiti” there. I have been collecting screenshots of the walls in the scenes when I can, and will put together a collage of them at some point. I’ve yet to find anything of particular interest, but I also feel like somebody has already done quite a bit of research into this, so I’ll see if I can find that post before I talk about it any further.

Alright, finally – our hero couple are united in the present day for the first time in this season! Here’s our first reminder of the familiarity that exists between them:

Aziraphale looks over his left shoulder to see if Crowley has appeared yet because that’s “Crowley’s side”. He actually seems to get quite the fright when he suddenly detects a presence on the opposite side of him.

I love the insight we get from Crowley reeling off the reasons that Aziraphale calls him: finding out that the angel instinctively calls the demon to satisfy his need for intellectual engagement (when he’s bored), for approval, or for help when he needs it highlights just how intricately woven into one another’s lives they are. I think it’s the middle of those points that strikes the biggest chord with me though; that the only person Aziraphale wants to share his successes with is Crowley speaks volumes, and it’s the only one of the three points he feels any need to defend (which in turn tells us how highly he thinks of Crowley). The familiarity that comes out of this speech just oozes, and I absolutely love how casually the demon delivers it.

Here we have the start of the next part of the case for my “Aziraphale and Crowley are already together” theory. Notice how the angel asks Crowley if this mega-espresso has calming properties:

AZIRAPHALE: Does it calm you down?

Not does it calm people down. Specifically “you”, which in this case is Crowley. Aziraphale knows that what he’s about to tell Crowley is not going to go down well, and wants to make sure the demon is as calm as possible, which he recruits Nina in to help with:

AZIRAPHALE: What do you sell that calms people down?

Again, the words here give the game away; he doesn’t ask what would calm “him” down, but what item would be particularly useful for calming other people down. Those Eccles cakes aren’t for him, they’re for Crowley. And why on earth Nina says that these calm people down, I have no idea – I’ve certainly never heard of them as having particularly restful qualities. You would have thought that maybe a chamomile tea would be a better solution.

If we combine all of this information with THAT look from Crowley and THOSE looks from Aziraphale (you know the ones, but I’m going to GIF them below anyway – I do love it so), I think the case for believing this pair to be secretly romantically involved already looks pretty strong.

There is a LOT going on in that tiny snippet of film so let’s break it down a bit. First we have this look of dread from Aziraphale when Nina drops him in the shit:

That is guilt, embarrassment, fear, desperation, and chagrin all wrapped up in one right there, and there’s really only one thing that tends to bring that complex mix of emotions to the fore in people – getting caught doing something you know very well you shouldn’t have been doing in the first place. And Crowley’s reaction tells us everything we need to know about how he feels about this new and shocking piece of information:

There is one phrase that comes to mind when I see Crowley’s expression here: “EXPLAIN YOURSELF”. That little head tilt at the end says that loud and clear. Most importantly for my case, there is no amusement on his face at all. He’s not entertained by this rather amusing turn of events, he’s fuming, as his expression makes very obvious.

And Aziraphale knows very well how much trouble he’s now in:

The wide eyes, increased breathing, inability to get his words out, and pathetic protestations – he is floundering here, badly. As well he should.

There are two more indicators here that there is something more going on between the two of them that is being overtly stated at this point in the storyline. Firstly, there’s that look he flicks over to Crowley to check in with him and see where the demon is in the emotional journey. Secondly there’s the appropriate look of somebody absolutely cowed by a sequence of events:

Bless his little cotton socks, he’s so ashamed. It’s such a childlike expression, exactly what you’d see if somebody had been reprimanded for something they knew they shouldn’t have done, didn’t have any good explanation for why they’d done it, and can only say how sorry they are in their own defence. Lastly (for this exchange anyway), we can see that Crowley is still awaiting his explanation at this point, even if we (very sadly) don’t get to see his expression:

Out of focus as Crowley’s face is, it’s still clear to see that his gaze is firmly fixed on Aziraphale. His attention is only diverted when Nina asks him a direct question. So, to sum all of this up: Aziraphale’s shame and desperation and Crowley’s indignant expression – that’s really all it took for me. This pair are a couple at the very least, more likely married. End of. Case closed. However, if you’re still on the fence, there’s one other thing that might push you over the edge. Listen, VERY CLOSELY, to the music in the background here:

Just after Nina says the phrase “naked man friend”, you can hear a very high-pitched note in the string arrangement, followed by a small pause. Almost like the music has crashed to a halt with the shock of the information that’s just been given (I’m sure you know what I mean – it’s a pretty common device to use in media). If that’s not a coincidence, that would further strengthen my ideas about Crowley influencing the music around him, and provide some more evidence for how he’s feeling at that particular time.

Right, let’s move on to the next piece of evidence for my case:

This is so lovely to me. How could he possibly sum up what he and Crowley are in one tiny sentence? Not only that, it’s clear he doesn’t know how to describe the situation between them without lying. He could have said they were friends (not entirely a lie, not entirely the truth), or even work colleagues (ditto). Instead, he says the only thing he can think of that is definitely true. And as a quick side note, both he and Crowley are so focussed on the mess that the angel has found himself in here, they miss the quick once over Nina gives the demon as she leaves the table.

There’s something really primal in me that makes me want to pull her hair and scream at her to stay away from him, like a crazed jealous teenager. I have no idea why; we all know Crowley has absolutely no interest in anybody or anything other than Aziraphale. Besides, he’s fair too concerned with reminding Aziraphale that he’s still in trouble.

Whoop, more evidence to add to my case! This is so beautifully done – Crowley changes the subject, thinking to lull the angel into a false sense of security, only to bring it immediately back to the issue that he clearly feels still needs to be resolved (and rightly so), and his expression clearly tells Aziraphale that this conversation is far from over, that he’s still not amused, and that he’s still waiting for an explanation:

Now that Aziraphale hasn’t got someone watching on, he’s become a little bit braver, actually managing to speak some of his defence, but I think it’s pretty obvious he knows there isn’t going to be anything he can say or do in the coffee shop that will resolve this situation. And if there was any doubt about that, Crowley’s gesture after downing his mega-espresso (which I find almost threatening) is clearly meant to be a reminder that he is still pissed about things.

Message received loud and clear:

In another casual display of intimate familiarity, and despite Crowley’s clear displeasure with the situation, he still holds the door open for his angel (ever the romantic). There is something going on in this shot here that I find interesting though:

What is that look going on between Nina and Crowley? This is an odd one, not least because of that once over we saw her giving him earlier on. And unfortunately we can’t see his face in this shot to be any degree of sure. To me it feels almost territorial, in a reverse sort of way – as if Crowley is making sure Nina bears witness to his romantic gesture, delivering a subtle but clear message about his interests. I’d buy into that totally if it didn’t run completely contrary to the need for them to hide their relationship. What I do like about this little interaction, and Aziraphale’s behaviour during it, is that we’re already being shown that this pair are still really bad at picking up on the other’s cues – whilst Crowley is busy pissing on a lamp post, Aziraphale’s face is giving away just how worried he is about what’s about to come:

Alright, final thing of note for this part, because this seems like quite a neat place to stop. Remember way back when I said that those Eccles cakes weren’t really for Aziraphale, but for Crowley? (Side note - way to go, stealing crockery from a local coffee shop Aziraphale, I hope you took it back at some point. Not that Nina seems to give much of a shit. Such odd behaviour.) Well we’re about to see the realisation of that.

Alright, I know, it could just be that Aziraphale hands the plate to him so that he has both hands to find the right key with (another side note – what are all the rest of those keys for?) but there’s a fleeting expression on Crowley’s face that suggests otherwise, as if he’s just now realising that the food is really for him:

He’s really not impressed with the quality of this peace offering, is he? Which is unsurprising, given that he’s not the one of them that has a burning desire to inhale anything that tastes good. At best, he might get to see Aziraphale eat it later I suppose. He’s gracious about his gift at least, because we don’t see him hand the plate back to the angel after the door is opened (in fact we’ll see it placed on the pedestal that the statue he uses to rest his glasses on later).

Right then, I have yet again wittered on quite long enough about this very small piece of film, so let’s wrap this up here. I’m hoping that now we’ve had the reunion of our hero couple in the present day, and the main establishment of the premise of the season, my write ups might get to be a little less picky (with some exceptions for notable scenes), but I guess we’ll find out. For now though, and as always, questions, comments, discussion – always welcome. See you next time 😊

[persephone411]

Hi darlin

If youre open to it I have a request

Going lingerie shopping with John(I read the John wick lingerie freferences and it was amazing) I’m giving you complete freedom what happens there🎀

I wish you well

First of all, thank you for the request (it’s actually the first one I’ve ever received 😂) I hope you like it, it actually became a lot longer than originally planned but well… I suddenly felt very motivated

Lingerie Shopping with John Wick

-it happend while you were spending a day at a mall, mostly just window shopping. You were walking hand in hand while John also had a bag full of new books for both of you

-Originally when you saw the store, you wanted just to quicky buy some new panties, because John had managed to rip another pair of yours (which also happened to be one of your favourites)

-you were surprised when he followed you into the store, none of your exes would have done that (they would have just stood outside the store while being on their phone, looking awkward)

-but not John. He walked without any shame, handsome and majestic as always behind you.

-“It’s fine John, you can wait outside, it will only take a few minutes”

-“but I wanna come with you. I ripped the panties, I replace them”

-you shake your head in disbelief, but at the same time couldn’t hide your smile as you see your boyfriend, dressed in dark jeans and a black Henley shirt walk through the pink and white store.

-because it was already late, the store was nearly empty, with only two two saleswomen gossiping at the checkout.

-so you took your time looking through all the different designs and cuts.

-as you turn around to search for John you saw him in the section with the delicate, more expensive lingerie.

-He was staring at a gorgeous night blue set with golden details, including a garter belt. You didn’t wanna even know the price of it.

-“found something you like darling ?He asked as he noticed your gaze.

-“still looking, any specific wishes ?” You asked teasingly

-“I love everything you feel confident in”

-after a bit you found a few pairs you liked, now debating if you should get the bras too.

-“Here, try this” John gave you a bunch of cloth hangers, full of lace and satin.

-a bit overwhelmed to took everything and walked towards the changing rooms while John grabbed the bras you were debating if you should get them and followed you.

-As you looked through John’s selection you smirked. Yes, he definitely had preferences.

-All the things he picked out for you were classy and elegant, no bright, corny, colours, no cheap looking designs or fabrics.

-While trying on the bras, You wondered briefly how he knew your exact size.

-But he was John wick, of course he knew everything about his girlfriend, including her bra and panty size.

-After the first bra, John asked if he could come inside the changing room.

-his eyes widened as he saw you (and you wore the most simple set out of all. Matching bra and panties in a nice dark green)

-“you look gorgeous Angel” he whispered as we wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

-you giggled and ushered him out of the changing room so you could try all the other sets he had brought you

-As you tried on all the different sets, you made sure to let him not see all of them

-He loved spoiling you, and you loved surprising him

-In the end you left the changing room with four new bras plus matching panties, a new pyjama set and a bunch of other panties.

-As you walked to the checkout, you didn’t even try to argue with John about splitting the payment, you knew he wouldn’t allow you to pay for them

-As he pulled out his card, your gaze wandered over to the night blue set had had his eyes on earlier. It was truly gorgeous and luckily Johns birthday wasn’t that far away.

-while he paid, chatting with the saleswomen, you quickly ordered the set online, knowing that it would arrive just in time for his birthday.

-,,Let’s go home darling” he whispered In your ear and you smirked as you felt his errection against your butt.

-you nod and take his hand, leading him out of the store.

-As you reach his mustang, he pulled you against him, kissing you softly

-“how about we I get us some nice wine on the way home for later ?”

[oros-ash3s]

Author Ask Tag 𓇼 ｡ﾟ⋆.˚ ⋆ ﹒₊‧

What is the main lesson of your story?

જ⁀➴ Magicae, as a whole, centres around grief. (Which is also a coincidentally a theme with most of my other WIPS. What can I say, I love an allegory for how grief changes a person.) The main lesson is about living in the present, and not becoming stuck in the dirt, left alone in the past. Not wallowing in your grief, as much as you want to. It’s about moving on, learning from your mistakes and changing for the better.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

જ⁀➴ Worldbuilding is not one of my strong points, I will admit. Most of my WIPS I still need to work on that to be honest. Magicae’s worldbuilding is pretty simple when it comes to it, based pretty closely around our own world, if fairly dystopian. Although it wasn’t intentional, after we had created the story I watched V for Vendetta, and the world is very similar to that. Slightly futuristic, with technology and heavy monitoring being a large aspect of it. I’d say most of the inspiration comes from dystopian settings and just ideas I or my co-writer have.

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? So you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help them grow as a person?

જ⁀➴ Wren’s main goal throughout Magicae is to put an end to both the Congregation of the Chosen and Eden, and unite Magicae and humans once and for all.

જ⁀➴ Their story is very coming-of-age, spanning from their early teen years right to adulthood. As the story progresses, I’m trying to teach how it’s okay to change, and how life ends up in ways you could have never expected.

How many chapters is your story going to have?

જ⁀➴ To be honest, I have no clue. Although the current timeline we have set up is pretty set in stone, things are always changing! Currently there’s around…. 27 arcs, but who knows if that will stay the same by the time we (hopefully) finish it.

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

જ⁀➴ It’s entirely original content, and all of it will be posted here on my blog! You should also give @ohagi-writes a follow, as she will be posting writing too.

When did you start writing?

જ⁀➴ I think it’s probably been 10 or 11 years now, but when I started writing fics had to be since 3rd grade. (I’m in 11th now.)

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

જ⁀➴ Some amazing writers to follow:

@whumpsoda — I love all of their work and if you’re looking for good whump fics I would HIGHLY recommend her.

@seastarblue — I think one of my first real moots on here!! She has a lot of writing posted for her WIP Interwoven which I also recommend checking that out ^^

@vesanal — she has an incredible art style and all her ocs have such interesting, unique designs! Her writing is also incredible, I loved all her contributions to Writemas.

@ohagiwrites — I LOOOVVEE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEE her writing. Shes the co-writer for Magicae and I could not have asked for a better co-writer than her! Everyone go check her out she’s PHENOMENAL

@cepheusgalaxy — Sami is so kind and friendly! He has a great list of ocs and WIPS up on their page I would recommend taking a look at ^^

@bioniclechronicles — Noah is firstly, an incredible artist, I love looking at all his different character designs on @kikuwaters!! His OCS are super cool and I definitely recommend checking him out.

@melodxi — first found them through their whump blog @mellowwhumps and fell in love with their writing! Can’t believe they actually followed me back what a dream ^^ anyways definitely go check them out

@sugaredparchment — Ivory is incredible ^^ He’s super friendly and nice to talk to and don’t even get me started on her writing style. Each one of the snippets they’ve posted has pulled me right into their WIP, I’m absolutely in love with the way he writes!!

જ⁀➴ Those are just a few of the amazing people I’ve been introduced to during my time on writeblr, I wish I could name them all. Some advice to any new writers on here: Don’t feel afraid to post your work or interact with other people!! I’ve been posting on writeblr for a year and a half now, and everyone here is super nice. Don’t be afraid to make moots and put yourself out there.

✎ thank you @aalinaaaaaa and @seastarblue for the tag ^^

✎ tagging @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @bioniclechronicles @sharkblizzardblogs @sugaredparchment @blackboxwarrior-mkultra + open tag

[trashisstillhere]

Welp. I did say in my post with Serenity’s ref that i would show the villain who is part of my fanmade Rc9gn story ‘Hidden Danger’ later or next time since she also has a ref and all so…now I think its about time I do that rn before I continue doodling or something, idk.

Here ya go, meet the ‘cursed samurai’, Honoka! (Unfortunately I haven’t thought of a last name for her yet.)

The villain for my ‘Hidden Danger’ story!

As you can see, she wasn’t always evil. In fact, the REAL Honoka was a good person! She just ended up in an unfortunate state thanks to the ‘curse’ that took over her the moment she touched a not so normal stone.

Here is also the ‘curse’’s ref! (Still no actual better name for it for now, also planning on coming up with an actual name for the stone. Like how the power balls are actually really named ‘Chaos Pearls’!)

Now allow me to try explaining her story and telling some stuff about her so you can understand her stuff more and her purpose kinda. Along with the curse here!

Backstory: Honoka is, or was, a woman who spent most of her life training to become a samurai back in the 1200’s. She wanted to become a Samurai because she wanted to be worth something more, to achieve things just like her own family has. During her trainings and such, she went out travelling quite alot while looking for some challenges.

-one day during one of her travels while wearing a bit of samurai armour she obtained (the ones you see on the cursed form), she found a stone. But it wasn’t no ordinary stone, it seemed to have some strange mark kind of resembling a heart. Curious of this, Honoka went to go pick it up to take a closer look, finding its design to be strange yet kinda beautiful..

she stared at it for so long that she didn’t seem to realise that her fingers were suddenly turning darker, she only did once she saw the heart mark on it suddenly glow. Honoka was both shocked and confused by this and she was gonna drop the stone but for some strange reason, she wasn’t able to, it was like the stone was stopping her hand from doing so. As she was now slowly starting to panic, she heard a voice, speaking in an eerie and dark tone that screamed: *FINALLY!*.. the moment she heard that, red strings suddenly came out from the mark on the stone and started wrapping themselves around her arm, all the way to her chest which they immediately went into where they dragged the stone over to and placed it on against her chest plate, somehow burning against it till the point it connected right to her heart and starting to take over her completely as her body started changing.

She screamed for her life until the painful transformation was finally over, she wasn’t herself no more. She wasn’t even in control of herself anymore. The curse that was in the stone was. With its new host who was almost colorless now, ‘she’ could finally begin what she always planned: chaos.

Many people had seen the now cursed Honoka as she wandered all around some places but they all either were too scared to speak up about it or ended up losing their lives trying to, cursed Honoka didn’t want to be well known out there to the public as she really didn’t feel like having to deal with people trying to stop her plans so in order to make sure that wouldn’t happen, she tried making up a brand new home/hideout to keep herself in for the many years that would pass, keeping her whole existence a secret. Many years later, Her plan to be hidden from the public eye was working quite well….until she got an unexpected visitor, a ninja.

—————————————-

Info:

-the real/normal Honoka, during her cursed/possessed state, is self aware of everything happening around her but can’t do anything due to her body not being in control anymore. Not only that but she’s in constant pain, especially with how some parts of her armour seems to have become completely stuck against her flesh, like on her forehead…making her look like she has some horns now.

-the curse, while it’s identity and origins are unknown, is mostly interested in having a female host more then a male one. That’s kinda why their appearance seems feminine, she even likes looking ‘beautiful’ even though her current Host, Honoka, doesn’t really look….normal. Also her mouth is literally gone, kinda resembling the curse in a way as it doesn’t have a visible mouth either.

-Honoka’s weapon is just a ordinary katana with some design but after getting cursed, it was given some of the curse’s power in order to be more ‘powerful’, giving it that ‘magical’ appearance. Cursed Honoka also takes it out right from her ‘heart’, from that heart mark on the chest plate, where the cursed stone is now hidden in.

-‘the cursed Samurai’ is actually a nickname she got from Serenity! Before she was never really called anything but now she got that name, she doesn’t really have an opinion on it so she doesn’t stop the little ninja girl from calling her that.

-like many other people, Honoka (both the original and the curse version) thinks there only one Ninja who has existed for 800 years. Because of this, she actually thought that Serenity was the same exact ninja. But then later on in ‘hidden danger’ when Serenity comes back to her place with Randy, she gets to know the truth and realises that the ninja she had to deal with right now these past few days was actually not only female but a completely different person this whole time. Let’s just say, she was extremely puzzled.

-due to Serenity visiting her hideout again and again so many times to try to ‘defeat’ her, Cursed Honoka has placed a lot of traps around to try to keep her away. The more the little ninja comes back, the more traps will appear.

—————————-

And that’s all I am basically gonna say for now because I have literally spent almost too much time writing this all down. Yeah, I haven’t this written down somewhere, I just wrote everything I had worked on and all in my head lol. It’s also dark outside now where I live, damn.

But yeah, now you all pretty much know the villain of my Rc9gn story, ‘Hidden danger’!

Edit: and now she’s a minor villain in the NN AU as well!