#and he's kind of messed-up in his own ways -- I mean this is the kid that had a dog skeleton in his room named Funny Bone growing up

[atiianeishaunted]

before we get into the actual post, I need to have a lot of preamble and stuff, pretext or whatever just so people dont assume the worst! also probably will add to this and clean it up later on when im not exhausted lmfao

Trigger warnings: grooming, familial abuse, and things adjacent to that, those are the two major ones though, and obviously this is not a shiro safe zone. you are not being held at gunpoint to read this post, read it at your own discretion. nothing is explicit or like graphically described because why the hell would i do that

This is from the perspective of someone who has been groomed and abused by a family member. This is NOT a proshipping thing nor is this a place for proshippers to jump in and romanticize what i am about to discuss. Also I am autistic and have been nitpicking this show to pieces for 6-7 years now, this is just something I've personally noticed.

I am not saying ANY of this was intentional by dreamworks, im not delusional, but whether they intended it or not the pieces ARE there, the subtext IS there! "They didnt mean it like that" or "They just didnt show it" is not going to change my stance, see the previous sentence.

all i ask of you is that you hear me out please, let me cook. also this will be a mess, just bear with me okay!! this post isnt like an absolute guide to my take as i do not have the capacity to do that but moreso like "rewatch the show with this in mind youll see what i mean"

I have no clue how to start this but with the fact upon recent rewatches, I have grown a distaste for Shiro due to how he's genuinely just a bad person. His whole character is just like sucking the government's dick yk and being one of the good gays, i wont get into that here, theres a whole other rant i posted like months ago about him that covers that area of him being a bad person and my pure hatred for the "space dad" title the fandom had given him.

With that being said, i don't think about him often clearly as he irritates me but like he's always lurking in the back of my mind, you know those itches on the palm of you hand you gnaw on because itching wont work but biting doesn't do shit either, yeah like that. I've kind of always held the belief he's a groomer, not in /that/ way, more like grooming Keith into being a perfect soldier and tool for him to use and project onto however upon recent reflection and rewatching the show, i have come to the conclusion that the subtext of the show (INTENTIONAL OR NOT) (HEAVY EMPHASIS ON THAT!) has him fitting both definitions of grooming.

His and Keith's dynamic will always be inherently unhealthy, Shiro is not a good guardian to Keith at all and makes it clear that Keith isn't someone he genuinely cares about, even in their softer moments, Shiro is just manipulating him / using manipulation tactics. He preyed on an isolated, grieving kid who clearly needed support and used that mental state to his advantage, arguably worsening Keith's state and driving the poor kid insane. Not to mention the fact we discover later on that Shiro was hiding his relationship with Keith.

When Adam is arguing for Shiro to stay on Earth, he doesn't mention Keith at all, only himself and Shiro's health. You'd think Adam, Shiro's boyfriend, would know about a kid Shiro had taken in and would bring up the fact that Shiro has a kid relying on him but he doesn't. Because he didnt know. The Holts dont know about Keith either despite Shiro being very involved in their lives. (side note,, matt and keith.. u shouldve been besties u feral men.. . we lost so hard..) Not even that, literally NO ONE acknowledges that they have a connection besides Keith. Keith is the only one to label him as family, as his brother, but Shiro explicitly avoids labeling things or reaffirming the label, which seems harmless vaguely i suppose until we get into the next point. Like what do you mean you dont tell anyone you're attached to this kid. Why are you so scared of clarifying or saying something. Why would you be so afraid to admit you took in a kid? hm???

(also before i get to the next point id like to add just now the fact shiro frequently brought keith out into the middle of nowhere which is. insane. now that i think about it. wdym you only interact with him when you're very separated and alone from everyone else. what the FREAK. most of their interactions/genuine acknowledgement of their relationship is when they are isolated. frowns. this is so sinister im ill.)

Shiro's romantic relationships, which we only see two of them, shows he has a specific preference for those who blindly do what he wants without questioning him or fight back. He broke up with Adam (willingly abandoned him) and never acknowledges him again beyond a quick scene of him looking at Adam being confirmed dead on a screen, the scene of Adam's argument, hes openly pushing against Shiro and mentions he cannot wait for Shiro again, he cannot keep doing this. And Shiro never mentions him, not once, throughout the show unless its a scene with Adam. Curtis is his second partner and husband who we actually meet before the finale where it shows them getting married, and you wanna know all we see of Curtis? him blindly following orders by Shiro. And I think one clip of him working out in Kinkade's vlog(?).

Keith is super devoted to Shiro, its constantly brought up even in the handbook (which isnt. very reliable but still) where he talks about Shiro as if Shiro is the only thing in existence and basically his god which lines up with the show. Keith borderline worships the ground Shiro walks on and Shiro eats that shit up, thats his /type/. He picked Keith very intentionally. We discover that Keith's worst fear is Shiro (its implied at least) in season 2 episode 8, Keith passes out and hallucinates Shiro. Its important to note this is a hallucination first of all due to the fact this is how he views Shiro. His brain pulled from his interactions/memories of Shiro.

Shiro's behavior isnt met with Keith's usual lashing out or anger we see him use when the others are mean to him. he looks Resigned, exhausted, hurt and scared. He isnt confused, he isnt surprised Shiro is acting like this, hes simply resigned. Implying this is something hes actually experienced outside hallucination land.

This happens again when Clone Shiro and him fight, Keith doesn't lash out, he avoids hurting Shiro, none of the words coming out Shiro's mouth are met with the intended reaction. Keith constantly jumps to a fawn response around Shiro, constantly spouting "I love you" whenever Shiro's upset which is not normal behavior for Keith. At all. Everyone else is met with anger and him snapping but when it comes to Shiro, hes suddenly very anxious and tries to appeal to him as if thats what he was taught to do / thats what Shiro wants from him.

Keith's attachment and behavior towards Shiro is not normal at all. If Shiro was a responsible non ill-intentioned adult he would've nipped things in the bud, established a healthy bond with Keith and made sure to redirect him but he does not. He allows Keith to spiral over him and consistently encourages it.

Keith was like 13 max. When they first interact (timeline wise), Keith wasn't scared of Shiro, literally stole his car, snapped at him, etc. What did Shiro do to him? What the hell happened!!!

That is all I got for now, will probably clean this up later and add to it but like 4 people wanted me to post this and i dont wanna keep people waiting so . gestures vaguely. theres the gist of things. rewatch the show as i said at the start, youll understand what im saying better.

[cicada-candy]

I get the sense that Nina is gonna haunt the next season.

[carewyncromwell]

"There's a bond that exists between mother and child --

Ah, but then again...how would you know?"

~"After All" from Ever After (musical)

x~x~x~x

Tristan Cromwell never knew his mother. She’d died bringing him into the world. Even so, he’d heard all about her from his father, Blaise, from the time he was very small. An objective witness of the young woman’s life, however, could’ve noted a few discrepancies.

“That’s Marianne. That’s your mother.” “That’s your mother there, on the right. She was the youngest in her family, same as you and me.”

Marianne Fudge-Cromwell was actually the second youngest. Her youngest brother Frederick is a Squib, living alone happily in Suffolk with a Saint Bernard named George.

“…I was sure to mention to your great-uncle Cornelius how much you've grown -- how much you resemble your mother…”

If one were to simply describe Tristan and Marianne, then they would think they looked very alike. They both had dark hair, slender builds, delicate features, and long-fingered hands. If Marianne’s uncle Cornelius Fudge had ever actually met Tristan, however, he wouldn’t have thought they resembled each other much at all — his youngest niece had never been as gaunt and pale as her son. However thin she may have been, Marianne had always had youthful chubbiness in her face, and however porcelain her skin may have been, her cheeks were always pink and sweet. She was also quite small at 5'6", while Tristan was tall and gangling. As an adult the boy even ended up an inch taller than his own father. On top of all this, the stiff, proud way Tristan held himself mirrored his father Blaise completely. Marianne had always been the sort to keep her shoulders and head down and generally make herself seem even smaller than she was.

“You’ll be staying inside where it’s safe. Now take your workbook and go sit in your mother’s armchair. She loved reading by that window; I daresay you will as well.”

Marianne placed her reading chair in that spot because the window neighbored her real favorite place at Cromwell Manor: the garden. Blaise had encouraged her to read indoors more while she was pregnant out of concern for her health, so this was the best way she could keep an eye on her white rose bushes while staying indoors.

“Of course your mother loved music. She had a beautiful singing voice…like a songbird in May. And she was proud of it — she would only ever share it with the most deserving. And she only ever sang duets with me.”

Marianne was so deathly shy that she only sang for people she felt comfortable with. The first time Blaise heard her sing, it was because he’d overheard her when she thought she was alone, tending to some flowers. On the flip side, Marianne was incredibly fond of Blaise’s voice, when they were first courting — she even in some letters rambled romantically about his heavenly Tenor serenades.

“You have no other ‘grandfather,’ son. Your mother’s parents passed when she was quite little — even younger than you.”

This is one of the few things Blaise told Tristan that is entirely true. Marianne and her sisters were largely passed around to various family members, including their uncle Cornelius and his wife, when they were not away at Hogwarts. Poor Frederick was shunted to the side, left mainly in the custody of their grandparents when outside of Muggle grade school and then kind of cut loose after graduating. Perhaps this is why Marianne was so desperate for some sort of stability and comfort…

“Your mother’s sisters grew…distant, after your mother’s death. They stopped coming to see you, not long after you were born. Quite frankly, I’d say you’re better off without them in your life.”

Emma and Elizabeth Fudge had never liked Blaise, even when their sister Marianne was most charmed by him. This was in part due to the age and therefore maturity difference between them and Marianne -- Elizabeth had been seven when Marianne was born, and Emma had already started at Hogwarts by the time their brother Frederick was born a year later. They stopped coming to see Tristan because it required them to make arrangements with Blaise ahead of time to come to the Cromwell Manor. And considering Blaise thought the two women would be a bad influence on his son, since they would inevitably try to “challenge his parenting,” he gave them almost no openings to come and visit. Eventually the two witches sadly gave up trying.

“There would be no point in me marrying again. Marianne was my other half and soulmate, and her final gift to me was you, my son and heir. I would not disgrace her memory by marrying a second time.”

Marianne married Blaise after just turning 18, while he was 37. Blaise had not married sooner because he’d been too picky about potential matches, so he'd only started actively searching after his father Charles finally put his foot down and demanded that Blaise marry and produce an heir. Blaise selected Marianne in large part because of her innocence, which made him want to “protect” her from the evils of the world and treat her like his own precious treasure to cherish and keep under lock and key. At first Marianne was enthralled by this, loving the idea of a wealthy man who would provide for her, care for her, and be completely loyal and devoted to her. Plus his dashing good looks was a plus. These favorable points of Blaise's soured in Marianne’s mind, though, after she became pregnant with Tristan right after her and Blaise's honeymoon.

"Your mother was in very poor health long before she gave birth to you. She stayed alive just long enough to make sure she saw your face, even if it was just the once."

Disregarding the usual childhood illnesses of Black Cat Flu and the like, Marianne's health had been fine prior to moving to the Cromwell estate. The decline really seemed to come about after her move and the suffocating isolation that ensued from it. She began to eat less, even while having to eat for two, and she often ate superficially, leaning more on salty, sugary things that could offer her some small bit of cheer, far more than anything that would give her any real strength. Over time the stress of dealing with Blaise's obsessive control and flashes of rage took its toll as well. Marianne's high blood pressure, when combined with her young age, was ultimately what helped contribute to the excessive bleeding that accompanied Tristan's birth and led to Marianne's death. However much Blaise may have seen how unhappy and unwell his wife was and however much he may have truly wanted to help, the only way he'd ever learned how to love someone else was through micromanagement and possessiveness. And so the more he tried to love Marianne, the more he only served to hurt her.

"Your mother was an angel long before she left us." "I will not hear you complain a moment longer. I never complained, when my father told me to stay at home, and your mother likewise minded me. She knew her duty to me and to this family, and so do you." “Your mother was a saint, Tristan. Don’t you dare let anyone ever insinuate otherwise.”

Oh, far from it. Marianne was a rather stupid and immature person, quite truthfully. She'd never had great marks at Hogwarts, not just because of her distinctly average magical talent, but because of her flightiness about studying and her tendency to tune out in class when her stuffy old professors didn't maintain her interest. She'd had little intellectual curiosity aside from superficial homely matters, such as maintaining a garden or embroidery. Her favorite aspect of Hogwarts weren't the spells or classes or group activities, but instead the way everything was cooked and cleaned for her, so she could focus on other (and, to her view, more important) things. She'd been rather lonely growing up, since her sisters had been so much older than her, so she never became versed in making friends or reading people overall. She was even a bit eccentric, giving all of her flowers names and talking to them the way many people would their pets. She'd named the Fanged Geranium in the Hufflepuff commonroom Audrey.

Most of all, though, Marianne was naive. She never could've predicted just how many strings would be attached to Blaise's love, nor how quickly they would tangle around her and leave her feeling helpless, isolated, and depressed in this place that should've been a home, but now felt more like a prison. She'd made excuses for Blaise to her family while they were courting with the thought that any of his rougher edges would smooth themselves out once they were married, but soon it became clear they never would. If she'd lived longer, it's not improbable that Marianne might've turned to the bottle or some other method of escaping her worries. Had she not been so trapped inside the Cromwell estate, perhaps she might've tried having an affair while her husband was out, just as something to cheer her up. Maybe that affair could've led her to another man who would've "rescued" her from this marriage she'd so hastily agreed to. Maybe she could've taken her son with her. Maybe she wouldn't have -- after all, Blaise and the rest of the Cromwells wouldn't have rested until they'd gotten him back. She didn't know how good of a mother she'd even be anyway -- maybe her son would be better off at least being provided for. Or maybe he'd be better off with some other family, living a normal, happy life somewhere else -- with one of her sisters, hell, maybe even her brother! Frederick had always been a natural with younger children. Honestly, it's doubtful Marianne had ever thought that far ahead, considering she'd given up any real hope of finding anything better.

Perhaps this is why Marianne didn't stay behind as a ghost, even after dying so young and tragically. If she hadn't gone on when she did, she would've been stuck haunting the prison that was Cromwell Manor for the remainder of her days. At least if she had to go...when she finally saw her son again, it would be in freedom.

"Fafa...did Mama love me too?" "Yes, my son. With all her heart, son."

The other rare thing Blaise told Tristan that was completely true.

[tojisun]

cw: john price x f!reader - older man/younger girl; smut; smidge daddy kink; meet cute or smthn

thinking about being moderately creeped out when the waiter came your way and told you that your tab has actually been settled by that gentleman over there.

and you’re quite hesitant to look around and acknowledge the gentleman’s presence but your friends are whooping, making kissy faces and being so embarrassingly obvious at their own checking-out that you bit the bullet and turned around, dutifully ignoring the lump lodged in your throat—

oh.

well, that’s one good looking man, sure. kind of young for your taste though, if you’re being honest but if he’s treating you and your friends, then you guess that’s—

the man beside him turns, meets your gaze, and shoots you a sultry wink.

his scruff and his hair is a mess of salt and pepper, and he’s got crinkles around his eyes as he smiles, and he’s got tan skin like he just spent a summer in greece while you were honest to god killing yourself for your capstone as your graduation is coming close, and—

“yeah,” your friend laughs, all sleazy. “he’s your type, ain’t he? a fucking dilf.”

oh.

so that younger one is—

god, he’s almost twice your age then if that kid’s his son. what the fuck that’s—

“please shoot your shot before we lose this group-sugar daddy,” another one of your friends chirps and that forces an ugly snort your way but mr. dilf doesn’t even look turned off by the way his smile just grew and- oh god, he’s standing up and he’s moving close and—

“hey, sweetheart,” he says and honestly the british accent is just uncalled for.

“hi,” you reply after being jabbed on your side.

his scruff dances as his humour bloats. he nods his head to the group and turns back at you.

fuck, yeah okay so— “thanks for that, by the way. you didn’t have to.”

he shrugs. “i wanted to. ‘sides, all that money ought to be spent on a pretty thing, don’t you think?”

pretty thing — does he mean you?

that…

that honestly does it for you.

your cheeks tingle with warmth as shyness creeps in. you feel yourself slowly clamming up, still so painfully unused to being the point of attraction. no one has ever liked you above your friends, but there he is, so suave and beautiful in his tan and charming in an honestly concerning way as he pours all his attention to you. not them but you.

“do you want to, uh, go somewhere? show me around or something?”

he huffs a fond laugh and offers his hand — big and callused, with a scar drawn across his whole palm ��� and says, “thought you’ll never ask.”

he pulls you up. “name’s john.” he tips his head back to his table, one that’s now bar of the other patron. “that was my son, lucas.”

you didn’t even notice that john’s hand has left your own until you felt it on the small of your back.

“and what about you?”

“huh?” you ask, trying to focus on not tripping on your feet.

“what shall i call you, sweetheart?”

“oh,” you say, blinking, before muttering your name.

john hums something deep in the base of his throat.

“beautiful.”

and, somehow, you know that he doesn’t just mean your name but he means you.

.

(it ends with you on his hotel bed, speared open by his cock. you’ve never been this wet before, walls all loose and squelching as he fucks it even deeper, punching the head into the pucker of your cervix.

john is all quiet grunts, animalistic as he devours you.

jesus, this man couldn’t truly be almost twice your age — how the fuck is he moving this way?

he fills you up to the point of tears, and fills you up even more, pushing and pressing in until he’s all snug in you, his pelvis flushed to yours. you feel so full. so stuffed that you couldn’t even moan right, raspy breaths all that could puff out of you.

“s’good!” you hiccup, sobbing, twitching at the drag of his cock as john pulls out only to choke on your own voice when he fucks in.

“jo-hnnn, s’good! s’good!”

“yeah?” he grunts, scruff tickling the shell of your ear. “y’feel so good ‘round me, darling. tight like a vice. christ, has no one ever fucked you open? stretched you out good?”

you shake your head, whining because no. no one’s fucked you this way. no one’s filled you this way. and if they did, everything’s been overwritten by john.

and his thick fingers and wide palms and his fat cock, fucking in, in, in.

“oh, darlin’,” he croons, his skin slapping against your own. “don’t worry, then, love. daddy’s going t’fix you up, ‘kay? daddy’s going t’make you feel so good, i promise.”

daddy—

fuck.

fuck.)

[irisinluv]

Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? Pt 2

Part one

It was almost 2 minutes before I realized I was still dragging the crown prince behind me. I quickly dropped his hand and looked at him, not able to hide the embarrassment on my face. Listen- I’m committed to the bit. I WILL be the crazy jealous fiancé. But… I’m still human ok. I just dragged a full grown man down several halls and a flight of stairs while I spaced out thinking about how I’m gonna buy my cat premium wet food once I get back home to her.

It’s fine, I’m not flustered at spacing out about my cat, my characters just flustered because she’s been holding the hand of the man she’s obsessed with, that’s all!

“Well…. Did you still want to dine and take that walk?”

I expected him to scold me for my mistreatment of Cressida, grow irritated from me dragging him along like this. Instead, he chuckles and threads his arm in mine, and begins escorting me down the hall.

“Absolutely, have you dined outside by the roses yet? There’s this lovely pavilion that I am eager to hear your thoughts on.”

And that’s how I found myself under an impressive array of roses, all trained up and around a cozy dining area, creating a canopy of green and pink over an intimate tea table. The food was equally impressive, I had to keep reminding myself that the other me is used to this lavish lifestyle, to not gawk at the fancy tiny sandwiches and deserts.

“Well? Is everything to your liking? ”

I’m going off script here, how am I supposed to know how the villainess would react to a romantic scene like this?? If my “evil crazy” side isn’t supposed to be directed at him, and she’s usually kinda distant and unsure around him…. That means I should probably respond pretty curtly, polite, yet not really engaging. But…. I’ve already messed that up…. I guess I can be more genuine when it’s the two of us like this. He can think that this version of me is the facade, that I’m pretending to be pleasant, and then will start to see what a jerk “I” truly am when Cressida’s around. Besides…. I almost feel bad for the villainess. She really just seems like she was shy. Who knows- maybe, if given the opportunity, she really would have opened up more. It’s clear she loved the prince, and just didn’t know how to show it. So, with that thought, I made up my mind.

“It’s breathtaking! Roses are my favorite flower, and I’ve never seen so many kinds in bloom at once…. Plus the food and company leave little to be desired.”

There you go- slip in some subtle flirting! I’m not quite sure what time period this is supposed to be, but I get the impression flirting as bit more high class here, and I think I can have some fun with that.

“I’m glad, to be honest I was a bit flustered asking you to dine with me… you caught me quite off guard today, but in a good way.” He reaches his hand across the table and places it on my own, “I’d like to do this more often, you and I. I feel like the confines of our current arrangement have left us practically strangers, despite being engaged for several months already. I’m enjoying just being companionable with you, even if it’s just existing comfortably in the same room.”

Ohhhh, I know I’m the villain in this story but I can’t help but root for him- what a sweetheart! It’s so obvious he’s been lonely, I can’t wait for him and Cressida to fall in love and have a couple of kids that they’ll spoil rotten. And in the meantime…. Maybe I do have a bit of evil in me, because I’m going to selfishly enjoy this handsome man treating me to lunches under roses and reading in cozy libraries while I can.

“I know exactly how you feel your highness. Now, you mentioned a walk?”

We spent the afternoon laughing and chatting, and it felt nice to chat without worrying too much about my role. He asked me about that book I picked out earlier, and listened attentively as I caught him up with where I’m at in the plot. In turn, I asked about what papers he’s been signing, documents he’s been drafting, etc.

The only thing I had to do was send glares to any young ladies we passed, settling my hand on his arm possessively, and I saw their eyes widen and faces disappear behind fans as they whisper to one another. I can picture this illustrated in a manhwa- the nasty princess sinking her claws into the gullible prince… hopefully all these ladies will start gossiping and we can really cement this evil persona of mine now that Cressida’s here.

When we returned to our separate apartments, I explored my rooms a bit until servants came to get me ready for dinner, and I slipped back into the frigid bitch persona. The servant girls dressed me in a slightly stuffy gown, but I had to admit, I looked gorgeous. I sat stiff and straight as they did my hair, forcing myself to be the very picture of cold indifference. I then dismissively thanked them for their help, then sat there awkwardly as they stared at me like I was crazy.

Ohhhh shit…. The original story hadn’t prepared me for this. My character was a villain, yes, but a side character for the most part! How was she supposed to act towards her servants? I went over what I knew- the novel showed the villainess alone quite often, usually obsessing over Eric and plotting/stalking. It showed her with Eric, and how distant and awkward their relationship was when together. And then of course the numerous scenes with Cressida where the Villainess did all sorts of heinous things to the sweet girl. But… it never depicted her with servants, or even any friends or other nobles. Just… Eric and Cressida. Was other me not actually a bitch all the time? Am I being unnecessarily rude right now? Oh god I’m such an idiot.

The story is told through Cressida’s point of view- of course there’s more depth to my own character than I initially thought! The Villianess must be a misunderstood introvert! Unsure of how to act around her crush, she’s fiercely insecure and jealous of this new girl who doesn’t struggle the same way she does. When she notices the prince slipping from her grasp, she acts out against Cressida because she can’t bear to lose Eric!

As someone’s who’s worked minimum wage jobs and struggled with social anxiety most of my life, I try to be nice to the people just working to survive, but here I am acting like these poor women are the dirt beneath my shoe…. Ok. Um. Well they’re still standing there in shock, I can fix this….

“You really did a lovely job… my hair has never looked so gorgeous, you’re truly talented! And I think the prince will be very pleased with this choice of ribbon!”

There- I was nicer, and I brought it back to Eric, so I’m still the lovesick fiancé whose entire world is waiting for her in the dining room. I frowned as the servants scuttled out of the room with hurried excuses, all of them looking like they were about to faint. Damn it… I can’t believe I misread the relationship between us. I probably just ruined their night by being uncharacteristically rude. I’ve gotta learn their names next time…. Maybe ask them to help me eat some fancy pastries as an apology…?

I didn’t know it, but while I was lamenting how wrong I was about the Villainess’ character, the servants were all gossiping to the others about what had just transpired.

“You’re telling me she said THANK YOU!?”

“Yes!!! And then you should have seen how nervous she got! She just rambled, blurting out such a sweet compliment, and she even tied it back to the prince!”

“I had no idea how precious she was… I can’t believe I never realized she’s just shy! In a new place, all alone aside from her new fiancé…. Who I gather she’s got a bit of a crush on! Poor dear.”

“Ohh our sweet girl, I’m sure it must be hard bonding with the prince, when all you do is sit yards apart and hardly speak …”

“Well I may have some news about that… and it’s no wonder she was a bit flustered today, because I saw the two of them in the gardens today! They were both nothing but smiles- absolutely smitten with one another!”

“Such a lovely girl, and we never knew it all this time!”

Apparently, I had it backwards. The real villainess truly was a 2D, basic character. She was insecure and possessive over the prince, bullying Cressida half to remind her who Eric belonged to, half for the fun of it. But she didn’t let on to anyone about the true depth of her love for him. She didn’t gossip to her handmaid, didn’t ask the servants which dress he would like better. Simply acted as if they did not exist, hardly saying a word to them.

While I thought my blunt “thank you” was colder than they were used to, and then tried to smooth things over…. It was more words than they’d heard from me in the whole time I’d lived in the palace. They lapped it up and declared me their own shy little dove after that.

When I arrived to dinner, I realized why daily dinners weren’t exactly a bonding activity for the villainess and Eric. The table was massive, and only held two chairs, one at either end. It felt so…. Cold?

Eric had beat me there, and quickly stood up from his seat, waiting until I sat and a servant pushed in my chair to retake his own seat. He smiled at me and said,

“Good evening, princess.”

He had to project his voice slightly. It wasn’t like he was shouting or being loud, it was just the manner of speaking you use when talking to an elderly relative, clearer, and enunciating better so they could hear you.

I replied back, projecting my voice similarly, and found the conversation was, in fact, more awkward than it had been earlier. We ate our food mostly in silence, occasionally one of us would say something and the other would stop moving their utensils on their plate, listening closer as they ask,

“What’s that?”

By the time dinner was over and we each went to bed, I felt drained. I could have just been louder I suppose- but it’s so hard to keep up a conversation like that. I know we get along- we had chatted all afternoon after all. But some part of me realized it’s probably good to keep a bit of distance between us, even if I’ve rewritten things to be a bit chummier between the two of us. Cressida needs to swoop in and steal him from me… and my job is still to leave that room for her to do so.

It’s hard trying to be someone else, yet also making sure you lead the plot in the right direction- it’s exhausting! I feel like both director and actress!

It’s with this in mind that I launch myself into the softest bed I’d ever felt, and passed out. My first day as princess consort, the Yandere fiancé, complete.

While I was getting acquainted with my feather bed, Eric was speaking with the head waitstaff.

“Yes, tomorrow, would you mind adjusting the seating situation? I’d like for the princess consort and I to be closer together from now on. Yes, and ask my assistant to arrange my schedules like so, I’ve detailed it here. Thank you.”

At the same time, Cressida was recounting her run in with the prince and I to her handmaiden as she finishing unpacking and settling into her family’s guest apartments. Which, unbeknownst to me… was right across the hall.

Series discontinued- sorry my loves. Ik y’all wanted more but the good news is that I’ve seen several really talented authors picking up this idea and executing it wayyyy better than my sporadic mood writing ever could.

[sukunasluvrr]

DILF!kuna who was the father of your teen daughters friend. Uraume was a timid person around others but visibly good raised by the older and rather intimidating guy

DILF!kuna who didn’t make much conversation whenever you picked up your daughter from his place after sleepovers, the simple “hi, I’m here to pick up my kid” and him calling uraume over to let them know and simply saying your goodbyes was all it ever was. Nobody could deny Sukuna looked good. God, his voice alone was enough to make your thighs squeeze together in silence and whenever his muscles flexes you swore he did it on purpose to taunt you, especially when he walked around without a shirt at home- of course only when your kid wasn’t around.

DILF!kuna who one day reached out to you privately, which kind of surprised you and at the same time made you think something bad happened, only for him to ask you out on a date the next time your kids had a sleepover at his place. Who would pass up that chance tho?

DILF!kuna who turns out to be a really sweet man, sure he looks big and scary but he ended up paying for your meal and was acting cocky yet kind to you the whole night. He does know how to treat his women after all.

DILF!kuna who ended up fucking you in the backseats of his car because he was too impatient to get back to your place, pressing you face down ass up into the leather seats and thrusting into from behind, leaving you a babbling mess with drool leaving your lips in a way you barely noticed until he called it out

“Awww look at you!! Already cockdrunk, hm? Seems like you never got it this good then”

And to prove his point, he only pushed deeper into you, leaning down and his hand snaking around to give your clit a few swirls, wanting to feel you tighten and loosen up around his thick girth with each flick of his finger

“How about I give you a baby hm? You want that? Be all swollen because of me? Become a mom for a second time, sweet thing??”

You could barely register his words, the only thing you could hear were the words ‘give you a baby’ and ‘sweet thing’ and god his dick was cruel. Repeatedly hitting your g-spot and making you leak fluids down your slick, stretched hole and smear all over your skin and his balls

“Mfff, y-yes!!!”

He actually laughed at your response. Laughed at how dazed you sounded

“That’s it. Give you a bunch of brats, hm? Bet you’ll look good, saw the- Fuck. Saw some pics of you pregnant”

You didn’t know where he saw them, figuring he saw them on your moms Facebook page, which only left you to wonder how he knew your moms name. But that’s a concern for later, his pace becoming more relentless the more he felt your cunt squeeze around him, not caring how much the car was shaking, not caring if they’d get fined with a ticket, all he could care about was your sweet pussy gripping his dick like a vice. His free hand grabbing a hold of your ass cheek to spread it a little so he could try and slide even deeper into you, his sack making contact with your clit which made a gasp leave your lips, mixed with more moans of your pleasure. His own groans were lingering around the cramped space, praising you and sweet talking you while his dick was ruining your insides for any other man, making sure your inner walls moulded to his hefty girth and make it impossible for any other man to pleasure you like he did. You didn’t know if you were whimpering from the stretch that came with the new angle, or the way his thumb was wiping over your asshole

“I feel like every part of you is cute… god- even your little hole here is tempting”

And he had half the mind to slip his thumb in, but he didn’t. Focusing his movement inside your cunt and the hand that was still on your clit, giving mean circles over it that had your back arching further and thighs twitching

“I need you to cum for me sweet thing, make me proud eh”

And like a slut you did… moaning his name as you came messily around his dick, he had a shit eating grin on his face as he gave a a few more pumps of his hips before he let out a sound that almost sounded like a whimper, ending up cumming deep inside your cunny and groaning in satisfaction as he felt himself fill you up with his seed. Seeming lost in his own world while he kept himself quiet but not pulling out just yet, leaning down against and burying his face in the crook of your neck and kissing over your sweaty skin, the older man being almost completely able to wrap around you

“Mhm… how about you move in with me? Brats would love it I bet”

[g1rld1ary]

well kept secret - spencer reid x hotch's daughter!reader

wc: 1420

cw: none!

me: back on my criminal minds grind... also im not gonna lie to u guys i just got back from a hosue party and im extremely drunk, so if u see any mistakes don't be afraid to lmk. also if u have any requests for hotch!daughter pls send them thru bc im heavy into reid rn i just adore him <3

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Who is that?” JJ asked, pointing subtly over to the figure walking cautiously out of the elevator doors. The figure, of course, being you, nervously trying to find your way around the glitzy BAU offices.

“God knows we needed a new pretty face around here — no offence, ladies,” Morgan laughed, drawing well-humoured insults from the women of the office.

“I for one don’t take any offence, her shoes are so cute!” Garcia gushed from over Morgan’s shoulder, eyes locked on your sleek black heels.

“Oh my god, they look just like the ones in that window we passed on the way to dinner, don’t you remember? Even Hotch said they were nice!” Kate wheeled her way into the conversation on her swivel chair.

It was a slow day around the office, not something that went unappreciated, so each agent was eagerly amenable to conversation.

“Reid, come over here,” Morgan beckoned, “Has she ever been here before?”

“Me?” He spluttered, eyes searching frantically, “Why would you ask me? Hundreds of people come into this building every day, let alone the thousands we see on the street every day, on cases—”

“And you have an eidetic memory kid, are you thinking straight or is the pretty girl messing up Boy Genius?”

Reid would drop dead before admitting that Morgan’s words had any truth to them, but his usually overactive speech pattern was halted by the vision of you entering the office’s glass double doors. His mouth dried out as you looked around, obviously unsure of where you were headed.

“No,” He finally answered, “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

“She looks lost. Kind of scared, even?” JJ was giving her signature maternal look, concern etched into her face and Garcia was up before anyone could tell her it might not have been a good idea.

The gang watched from afar as your expression brightened from worried to delighted as Garcia began to chat with you, eyes gleaming as you pointed down to your heels. Clearly she’d repeated the earlier compliment.

“Hi! I’m Penelope Garcia, technical analyst, and you are gorgeous. I’m in love with your shoes!” The introduction and compliment took you by surprise but you were by no means disappointed, replying with equal giddiness.

“Thank you so much, my Dad bought them for me!” You extended your right leg slightly to show off the heel more holistically, “And I just love your outfit, the glasses are everything.”

Garcia gushed her own appreciation as the two of you became fast friends, so you chanced a request for help.

“I’m looking for SSA Aaron Hotchner’s office? I know it’s one of the big fancy ones but I’m not sure exactly which.”

“Up those stairs and second door! You can’t miss it, the big boss energy radiates as soon as you go near.” You both laughed and you made sure to thank Garcia profusely.

Reid watched as you pointed up to the private offices, evidently searching for a specific office. He wondered who you could be looking for. He didn’t have to wonder for long as Garcia rushed back, talking a million miles an hour as she explained that you were looking for Hotch. That brought more questions than answers, and the BAU were quick to place bets on what you could possibly want from him.

“Well, she’s certainly too young to be his girlfriend,” Morgan laughed, “Unless Hotch gets down more than we thought.”

“Could be a young woman looking for a mentor? She looks about college age, maybe just graduated?” Kate suggested and JJ nodded in agreement, neither even pretending to be working anymore.

Meanwhile, you’d made your way up to Hotch’s office, knocking softly on the oak door.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, eyebrows raising only slightly, an extreme show of emotion for the man.

“Check your watch, Agent Hotchner,” You smiled, unsurprised that he’d gotten totally consumed by his work.

“Damn,” He huffed under his breath, “I’m sorry, should we go now, then? And what did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Sorry, Dad,” You emphasised the title, “And yeah, let’s head. I’m starving.”

Down in the bullpen, even Rossi had been roped into the shenanigans.

“You’re the closest with Hotch, if anyone would know who she is it’s you!” JJ said, the rest of the group agreeing.

“Why don’t you just, I don’t know, ask him?” Rossi shook his head like he was dealing with small children. Sometimes he was convinced he was.

You took Hotch’s offered arm and the two of you left his office, making quiet smalltalk. The office fell eerily quiet as you two emerged from the behind the closed door, and you got the distinct impression that the BAU had all been talking about you.

Obviously Hotch noticed the team very unsuccessfully playing it cool and muttered a curse, signalling to you to head over to them. You supposed you were going to finally get your formal introductions.

“This is Rossi, Derek Morgan, JJ, Kate Cunningham, Penelope Garcia, and Doctor Spencer Reid. Guys, this is my daughter.”

If you thought there was silence before, it was nothing compared to when Hotch dropped that bomb. You could hear a pin drop.

“Um, it’s really nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so many stories about your work.”

“And we’ve never heard anything about you, pretty girl.”

“Morgan,” Hotch warned with hardly any bite as you laughed off Morgan’s playful flirting.

“Derek Morgan you are exactly like I was told. You too, Penelope, my father was not exaggerating about your outfits.”

“I thought you were starving?” Hotch changed the subject to tease you, nudging you to get moving.

“Alright, alright, I get it. You don’t want me taking all your friends,” You grinned, getting moving nonetheless. The BAU laughed, both charmed and confused by you. It wasn’t unbelievable you were Hotch’s daughter — your quiet confidence and posture was the same, but your friendliness and more easily understandable humour set you two apart.

“Bye everyone!” You called over your shoulder as Hotch rushed you out the doors, clearly keen for you to stop making friends with his coworkers.

“She seems nice,” JJ commented, sitting back down in her swivel chair.

“Can we all talk about how Pretty Boy didn’t say a word that whole conversation?” Morgan asked, a hand clamping deviously on Reid’s shoulder.

“Spencer!” Kate laughed, “You don’t have a crush, do you?”

Reid could feel his cheeks heating up of their own accord, his usually genius brain useless to counteract it.

“No!” He blurted out, “I just didn’t want to say something wrong or bore her with facts like I do with you guys.”

“So you do want to impress her?” Garcia teased with a toothy grin as Reid rushed to shake his head no.

“She’s our boss’ daughter, guys. I think all of us should want to impress her, right?”

“I dunno, Reid, I don’t see Morgan or JJ blushing right now,” Rossi chimed in with a laugh before heading back to his office.

You stepped into the elevator with Hotch, chatting happily about your day so far. Your father stuck his hand out to hold the door open with such speed it scared you a little, jumping in your own body. You relaxed when you saw it was just Penelope Garcia, hurrying towards you with a few files in her hands.

“Thank you, sir,” She breathed as the doors closed behind her, “I forgot Rossi wanted these scanned and digitised from the last case!” She punched the button for the third floor. “It was really nice to meet you, by the way. Even if Hotch has kept you a secret all these years.”

“To be totally fair to him, I wouldn’t say he exactly kept me a secret if he only found out I existed a few years ago. It was nice to finally meet you all too, though. I’ve heard so many work stories.”

You bid Garcia goodbye as the doors opened once again. Just as she was almost down the hall she heard your voice whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me doctor Reid was hot and smart?”

Penelope hardly concealed her gasp, delighted at the newfound revelation. This would be fun for her.

[capquinn]

how would quinn react to reader doing that prank about when he says “goodbye/goodnight i love you” and you don’t say “i love you” back just to mess with him

omg this guy avoids tiktok like it’s the plague so there is no doubt in my mind that he has absolutely no idea about this trend so he’d be SO confused and wouldn’t know what to do with himself except pout and stay close until he gets to the bottom as to why you hadn’t said it back 😭

Quinn’s brow furrowed the second the words left his mouth and yours didn’t follow.

“See you soon. I love you,” he had said, as casually as ever, tossing his backpack over one shoulder, leaning in for his usual goodbye kiss.

But instead of the automatic, almost musical "love you too," that always followed, there was… nothing. Just you, standing there, watching him with the faintest glimmer of mischief in your eyes. At first, he paused, waiting like you’d simply forgotten. Maybe you were distracted. Maybe you didn’t hear him. He glanced back at the door, then at you again, the crease between his brows deepening.

“You good?” he asked, his voice light but tinged with the slightest bit of uncertainty, like he wasn’t entirely sure if this was normal or if he’d just entered a parallel universe where you suddenly forgot how this whole goodbye thing worked.

“Yeah,” you said breezily, smiling just enough to make him squint.

“Okay,” he said, drawing the word out as he shifted his bag higher on his shoulder.

He moved toward the door, opening it halfway before pausing again. And you could see it — really see it now — the way his mind was spinning, trying to figure out what he’d done, if he’d done anything, and why you weren’t playing along.

He half-turned, his hand on the doorknob, giving you one last expectant look.

“You, uh…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice quieter now. “You sure everything’s okay?”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“Yep.”

And that’s when the full force of Quinn’s what-the-hell-is-going-on face hit you. He didn’t look mad — not even close — but the confusion was written all over him. His mouth opened, closed, and then opened again like he was about to ask a question but didn’t quite know how to phrase it. His hand fell from the door as he took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You didn’t… You didn’t say it back,” he pointed out, almost cautiously, like maybe it wasn’t something you’d realised. “I said 'I love you.' You usually…” He trailed off, his lips pressing into a thin line as he waited for some kind of explanation, one that you weren’t giving because you were too busy pretending you had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. You tilted your head, your expression perfectly blank except for the big, wide eyes you fixed on him.

“Do I not say it enough?” he asked, softer this time, like the words came with a little sting. “Is that what this is?”

And now you felt guilty because, of course, he’d think this was some kind of message, like you were trying to make a point instead of just pulling a dumb prank for no reason other than your own entertainment.

“Quinn,” you started, the smile breaking through despite yourself.

But he cut you off, shaking his head slightly, the tiniest bit of exasperation creeping in.

“Because, like… I mean it every time. You know that, right?”

And now you couldn’t hold it in anymore. The laugh bubbled out, loud and sudden, and you reached for his hand, tugging him closer. “Oh my God, Quinn. I’m kidding. It’s a prank.”

His brow shot up. “A prank?”

“Yeah,” you said, still laughing as you slid your arms around his waist.

He huffed, but there was relief in it, his hands settling on your hips as he gave you a halfhearted glare.

“Not funny,” he muttered, though his lips were already twitching. “I was about to cancel my flight.”

“Sure you were,” you teased, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. He didn’t move, but you could feel the smallest twitch of a smile forming despite the way he was still obviously trying to stay mock-annoyed. “See? You’re too sweet. That’s why I had to mess with you.”

Quinn let out a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head like he was already filing this away as one of the countless pranks he’d endure over a lifetime with you.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his voice gruff but too soft to be anything but affectionate. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You couldn’t help it — you started laughing again, the sound spilling out as you tucked your face against his chest, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

“I love you,” you said through your laughter, your voice muffled.

His smile finally broke free, slow and warm and just so Quinn.

“I love you too,” he said, his tone soft now, steady, like those words were always going to be there no matter how much you tried to mess with him.

[rafecswhore]

INTRODUCING DAD RAFE

dad! rafe cameron headcons include

dad rafe cameron who...

1. is overprotective (sometimes too much)

• he side-eyes any boy who so much as looks at his daughter.

• “who’s this guy you’re texting? do i need to meet him? or scare him?”

• he’ll drop a casual “don’t mess with her” vibe that makes everyone nervous.

2. has a surprisingly soft side

• he’ll act all tough, but when his daughter hugs him or says “thanks, dad,” he’s toast.

• he’ll stop everything to get her favorite snacks or help her fix something—even if it’s just a chipped nail.

3. is lowkey the fun parent

• he lets her stay up late watching movies or sneaks her candy when he knows she’s already had enough.

• “don’t tell your mom, but you can drive the truck—just don’t hit anything.”

4. but can be the scary parent when needed

• if someone upsets his daughter, it’s over. “who said that to you? tell me their name. right now.”

• he’ll show up at school like, “you want to repeat that?” but always makes sure his daughter feels safe and supported.

5. still has chemistry with you

• he calls you “princess” just to annoy you, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes your stomach flip.

• your daughter loves teasing both of you, especially when the tension gets obvious. “just date already. it’s embarrassing.”

6. is always in his daughter’s corner

• if she’s nervous, he hypes her up. “you’ve got this. you’re a cameron, and that means you’re unstoppable.”

• even when she doubts herself, he’s her loudest cheerleader.

7. teaches her confidence, kook style

• “you walk in there like you own the place—because, honestly, you kind of do.”

• he makes sure she knows she’s capable of anything.

8. is hands-on, no matter what

• even with his busy schedule, he’s always there for school events, late-night talks, or impromptu beach days.

• he never lets her feel like she’s second to anything.

9. has a love-hate relationship with parenting drama

• he secretly loves being the parent other parents are intimidated by.

• if someone criticizes her, he’s the first to clap back. “maybe focus on your kid before worrying about mine.”

10. still values your opinions

• he’ll act like he doesn’t need your advice, but he does.

• “okay, fine. you’re right. happy?”

11. is the king of dad jokes

• no matter how many eye rolls he gets, he’s throwing in cheesy one-liners.

• “did you hear about the kidnapping at school? don’t worry—he woke up.”

[sinofwriting]

The One With All The Hand Holding - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS VERSE)

Words: 1,120 Summary: The one with all the hand holding. (part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse

Logan, Pan and Max have an order of things. Pan is always in the middle of them. Not because she needs to mediate or because Max and Logan don’t like each other. She’s in the middle because it means that they both can hold her hand.

Both of her boys are clingy, Logan is a momma’s boy, maybe the biggest one to ever exist and she’s been told she indulges him too much but how she can pull her hand away from him when he grasps it. Especially when she still remembers when her hand enveloped his instead of the other way around. And Max, Max is touch starved. He grasps her hand, any part of her he can, and never let’s go until he absolutely has to. There’s only been a few people in his life that have only ever touched him with kindness. And the list of them is surprising until you really think about it.

So, they have an order. Logan on her left and Max on her right. Both of them holding her hands, sometimes making her arms swing.

That order has only been messed up one time:

Max smiles, eyes crinkling as he watches Logan immediately grabs her hand, it makes him want to ruffle his hair, but he knew that Logan had fretted over his this morning, so he doesn’t, instead reaching for Pan’s other hand only to freeze as he feels a piece of warm jewelry on her ring finger and he quickly drops it.

He barely hears the confused noise she makes as he moves, hands grasping at Logan’s shoulders as he tugs him away and puts him on the correct side of Pan, waiting to see Logan reach for her hand before he grabs her other. Feeling at ease when he doesn’t feel a ring.

“You okay?”

Max feels his cheeks turn a little pink at the question, her small smile, and both of their concerned looks. “Yeah, just was on the wrong side. I could feel your ring.”

The concern fades to such a fond look at his answer and Logan lets out a small laugh. “I thought something felt weird.”

Pan sighs, shaking her head, but she still looks unbelievably fond. “So picky, my boys.”

—

Logan watches as Max presses a kiss to the side of his mom’s head, his arm falling away from her shoulders when he pulls back. It makes him smile, the easy affection between the two. His eyes fall lower looking at their hands that are brushing against each other but fingers not yet intertwining and a mischievous grin takes over his face as he sees a few photographers. A bit of nerves threatens to stop him, but he quickly catches up to them.

“Hi Momma, Hi Max.” he greets before putting himself in between them, his hand instantly grasping his mom’s as the two greet him. He smiles at his mom before looking at Max, eyes dropping to his hand and he sticks his own out a bit, fingers grasping at Max’s. He waits for Max to laugh, pull his hand away quickly, shove Logan gently, but instead Max beams, taking Logan’s hand in his own.

“How you feeling?”

“Uh,” His brain is struggling to process Max holding his hand, holding his hand in public, with photographers around. “I’m okay. You?”

Max squeezes his hand, “Well, I’ve got my girlfriend and kid. I think I’m doing good.”

—

In the year Pan and Max have officially been together, Max has learned lots about Pan and Logan respectively. Pan doesn’t take care of herself, never thinks of herself as a priority. Logan is anxious, it’s mainly low level anxiety, but sometimes it spikes and when it does, he picks at his skin. Mainly the thin skin on his knuckles or at the inside of his wrist.

Pan has a radar for it, always pulling one of Logan’s hands into hers or handing him something to fiddle with, but Pan’s sick. Back at their hotel room no matter how much she protested and said she was fine, Max had put his foot down, especially seeing how worried Logan was every time she coughed, which was every few seconds, so she relented and Max can only hope she’s actually resting and not putting together new food sheets.

But Max is also wondering if he should’ve let her come, because Logan is so clearly anxious he’s afraid the journalists are going to notice. His lips are bitten quite a bit and his eyes are constantly moving and Max knows that it has to do with Pan being sick, but it also has to do with one of the more nosey journalists being here, poised to start asking questions as he, Logan, Charles, Zhou, and George sit on the large sofa for the drivers press conference.

As they begin to open up to the floor for questions, Max catches from the corner of his eyes Logan’s dominant thumb and pointer finger go to his opposite wrist and he quickly intercepts it, taking his closest hand in his. Logan startles a bit at the touch but sends Max a thankful smile.

Max glances around but no one has seemed to notice other than Charles who gives a small chuckle, scooting a bit closer so he can lean in since Max is more or less unable to. “Such a softy.”

Max rolls his eyes. “As if you could say no.”

The other driver glances over at Logan, his expression softening a bit. “No, I suppose not.” He sighs. “I never thought my first nephew would be from you.”

“Arthur, right?”

Charles scoffs, the two ignoring the journalist that has started to speak, just pausing to see if the question is directed at either one of them before continuing. “Of course Arthur. My maman is both relieved he has not come home telling her he is to be a father and also disappointed.”

“Time for you to step up?”

He shakes his head, lowering his voice a bit more. “Lorenzo is getting the heat. Family dinners have turned quite entertaining, after all I gave her Leo, which is acceptable, but Lorenzo.” He clicks his tongue shrugging, “she’s starting to think he doesn’t know what he is doing.”

Max can’t help the laugh that escapes him as Charles grins, laughing himself.

A few of the journalists look at them, but George is still speaking so they continue to ignore them. “Maybe he still wants to practice.”

“Well, he needs to get out of practice. He’s been doing practice for nearly twenty years. It’s nice and all, but it doesn’t beat that,” and he gestures to Max holding Logan’s hand.

“No,” Max smiles. “It doesn’t.”

[bitchimasnake-sss]

hi lovely🥹 i'm sorry if i am being unreasonable, but may i ask, for more stories of stepbro!op monster trio? sorry to bother 🥹🫂

you guys are never unreasonable!!! unless, you like ask me to write actual incest cause frankly that goes beyond my (very lose) morals. but step-brothers? we love (fictional) step-brothers. you got it! like always, also adding ace and law!! hope you enjoy, pretty <3

☆thinkin' about: the monster trio, ace 'n law! vs familial relations, shh!

NOT PROOFREAD. JUST UTTERLY HORNY AND PERVERTED. tw: CONCEPT OF STEP-CEST, PORN LOGIC, DUB-CON. BIMBOFICATION. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. [i.e. if you do not feel okay reading such concepts, please scroll/click away. thankyou in advance.] cw: lots of porn logic. set in modern au. nsfw includes: a lot of overstimulation blowjob, cockwarming, penetration, cunnilingus, fingering, some bondage and use of toys and smex. lots of smex. MDNI OR I WILL ACTUALLY FIND YOU USING BLACK MAGIC. SIT THIS ONE OUT, KIDS. m.list

🍒monkey d. luffy: your favourite meal, 'nichan!

❤️monkey d. luffy is not quite sure which he loves more, you or food. because when he entered the kitchen in the dead of the night, he only really wanted to eat something to soothe his insatiable hunger. how lucky, he found you there instead! "l-luffy," you squirm under his tight grip on your thighs as his tongue swipes against your clit once more. when he looks up, his lips are drenched in everything you, "what?" "someone's gonna see." you mumble, trying feebly to pull at his hair and get him to part with your pretty pussy. but luffy just holds you down tighter on the kitchen counter, making sure your trembling cunt doesn't run away from him. he's still hungry, after all. he gives you a dopey smile, the kind that has you believing all of his false lies, "nobody's gonna come, pretty." he licks a soft stripe up your wet pussy, softly chuckling at his own joke, "i mean, you will." "nobody will?" you echo innocently, words falling down your wobbling lips so easily as he pulls your hips to himself and starts feasting like a man ravished. he moans against your folds, "nobody, i promise." his nose nudges against your clit so dangerously well, his tongue slides into your sickly sweet hole so easily and as he fucks up the muscle into you, you swear you feel his tongue stretch as if to hit you g-spot. "l-luffy, ohmygod," you practically feel yourself drip onto your step-mother's freakishly clean counter tops and half-heartedly try to think of a lie to tell her when she asks you about the stain. "tsk," you step-brother shakes his head so softly around your cunt, pulling back his drenched face just to nudge his digits into your hole instead, "don't worry about the mess, i'll clean it up all by myself." and from the way your step-brother was licking at you clit, drinking in every candied, syrupy essence out of you, you were sure he meant it. "just relax, and let me have my share." he husked into your bundle of nerves, right hand pumping and curling into your heat, "i got the rest, peach."

🍀roronoa zoro:

💚"zoro?" you ask so softly, and your voice echoes back towards you from the empty changing room. your step-brother had asked you to come see him once his practice was over. he claimed it was an emergency, and wouldn't you be a terrible younger step-sister if you ignored your brother in a dire situation like this? "in here." his voice echoes from the shower as you meekly find yourself walking to one of the closed stalls. calling out again, you stand in front of the stall, "zoro?" the door opens momentarily and you're pulled in by his sturdy hand on your wrist. as soon as your gain some semblance of sanity, you're face to face with your step-brother. the shower is still running in the background, and water droplets softly run down his ripped, naked body. "what's the emergency?" you ask softly but zoro brings his hands up to your lips, softly swiping his thumb across your pouty bottom lip before meeting your eyes. he rasps, "i had a shit match. 'm so angry right now, think you can make it better, pretty?" you nodded, knowing just what would cheer your brother up. after all, that's what a good step-sister should do! sinking down to your knees, you gaze up at him one last time before softly grabbing his aching, erect cock in your hands. zoro moans at your soft touches, and it spurs you to lick his tip leisurely. your hands move up and down over and over again as his tip slips past your lips. you taste his beading pre on your tongue and your thighs rub against each-other as you feel the wetness build up in your panties. "good girl." zoro husks, throwing his head back and guiding you to softly take more of him in. he tastes like he always does: sea-salt and something tangy, and you hum around the familiar taste, "jus' like that, so, so good for me." you hum around him again, gagging just a little bit as his tip kisses the back of throat, "r-really?" "of course." zoro hums, pulling you off his aching cock to let you breathe, "think ya can take it whole?" you nod with conviction and the green-haired jock smears his tip across your lips, smirking down at the way you part your mouth to let him line it easier, "cute." he guides you to take him past your glossy lips, "take it. take it whole."

🫐vinsmoke sanji:

💙"and how does this one taste?" sanji asks innocently, feeding you a bite from the cake he had baked, "good?" you nod, words wobbling, "'s r-eally good, sanji." "awh," your step-mother claps, "'m so glad you both are working hard together for the bake sale! alright, i'm off to the market. be good, both of you." "of course." sanji nods and you feel him press his erection onto you from behind. teasing you. telling you just what was waiting for you. you were lucky that your lower halves were hidden by the kitchen island otherwise your step-mother would have seen that sanji had his hands down your shorts, teasing your clit while pretending he was such a saint. as soon as you both hear the woman slam the front-door and leave, sanji drops his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent like a man crazed. his forefinger and thumb pinch your clit so meanly and you buck into him as a result, "s-sanji." "don't you think you should thank me?" your step-brother rasps, pulling your folds apart so he could thumb your clit better, "i helped you bake for your sale." "th-thankyou." you stutter at the way his fingers keep circling your sensitive nub, "how should i... thank you?" "let me make you cum." he hums definitively, slipping his hand further to let one finger inside you, "ah, you always feel this good. 's almost addictive." "it... it is?" you buck into his hand, desperately rutting to get the friction on your clit from him. but sanji never let you beg, ofcourse. he riles you up instead, "what's that, baby? want more?" and the blonde shoves another finger without you nodding. curling his digits, he moans at the way your gummy walls clench around him, how your wetness was dripping down his hand and wetting your short, how you brought your own up hand to your tits to play with your perky nipples. "you're so cute." sanji hums, pumping into you without faltering, "come on, pretty girl. cum all over me. let me taste you."

🦋portgas d. ace:

🧡"tsk, wrong again?" your older step-brother softly shakes his head. if it weren't for the slight smirk in his tone, you would have thought he was seriously disappointed in you. "'m sorry." you mumble, hips squirming as as he wraps his muscled arms around your waist to hold you still. he rests his head in the crook of your neck, softly whispering to you, "y'know i had to skip hanging out with my friends to help you do this assignment. and now? you're getting all of them wrong." "i cannot focus..." your voice trembles and he laughs in return, "really? why not?" he hums, "you know how busy i am, right?" and you did! you knew he was busy with his own things and asking for his help over this uni assignment was stupid... but, he was always so good at teaching, that you had to ask him. "tell me..." he wonders aloud, "why cannot you focus?" but how could you? you were stuffed full of your step-brothers cock. his length stayed unmoving inside you, and the way you could feel every little vein against your velvety walls. he was so mean! he said he would fuck you once you finished your assignment, until them let him cockwarm in you. but it had been so long and he was still unmoving!! "ah, well... you know the punishment." he whispers in mock distress, and your pussy trembles against his length in anticipation. his hand comes down on your clit. a harsh, little slap that has you dripping down his length and wet both your clothes. "try again." ace says definitively, "c'mon, you're surely not as dumb as you're acting." and then, something clicks. "hah, unless..." your step-brother's fingers come down to tease your exposed, overstimulated clit again, "you're purposefully getting them wrong because you want me to do..." he slaps your cunt again, "this?" "no!" you shake your head, voice growing even weaker, "i- i didn't. promise." but he just grins, "shit. if you liked that so much, should've told me sooner, princess."

🪻trafalgar d. water law:

💜"you know i need to practice, right?" your step-brother repeats and you nod in return, "i... i know. don't worry, law." you knew he was a med student, and you knew how important it was for him to be able to understand the human body from a close, physical point of view! and especially, for him to better examine women, he needed to understand them well, didn't he? and well, that's where you came in. you lay in his bed, your arms and legs tied to the leg posts as law peers down at you, "let me just see how you react, okay?" you nod and law brings the buzzing toy to your glistening cunt. as the vibrator comes in contact with your exposed clit, you involuntarily jerk your hips away, eyes clenching shut in delight. your hips stutter all-too-pathetically and law takes the toy away to note something down. your tattooed doctor looks down at you as if scrutinizing you, "hm, feel good?" and you can't help but nod desperately, "y-yes." "then, tell me." there's this sadistic glint in his eyes, "i told you, talk to me through it. how else would i know how you react, right?" "i-i'm sorry." you catch your wobbling lips under your teeth, a sorry expression plastered to your face as law slowly brings the toy back to your anticipating body. "f-feels good, law." you stutter as the toy constantly nags against your sensitive nub, and law nods as if he's serious, "does it? describe it better for me, could you?" "it feels..." your words get stuck in your throat, eyes widening at the lewd things you're about to say. you avert your gaze, "i- don't wanna say such things." "oh?" law quirks an eyebrow, his lips pressed into a thin line as if unveiling his disappointment. your stomach drops at his reaction. after all, what kind of step-sister were you?! he mumbles gravely, "but it's for my study, y'know that. there's no shame in helping your older step-brother, right?" "i-" your step-brother gives you a re-assuring nod, and your voice trembles as he teases you, "it f-feels good... like my body's gonna explode, an-and it's good." "it's good?" he repeats and you nod, trying to rest your eyes on him despite your squirming body, "y-yes." "that's a relief." he huffs, pressing the toy against your clit harshly now, "i'm glad my girl's having fun." law exchanges the toy for his thumb instead, giving you a soft smile, "let me see how this feels for you."

a/n: hahahaha I SWEAR IM SANE!!! I SWEAR!!! yes, my digital footprint goes crazy, thanks for asking. don't ask again. also. the feminine urge to write the all of these drabbles longer and without step-cest... hm, anyone on board?? anyways, glad to see you having fun you filthy, filthy person :// m.list

[neo-nomatrix]

(My) Nuisance

Hobie brown x reader

word count: 964

find the rest of the mini series here

synopsis: You thought you hated Hobie, but for some reason you’re starting to like him just as much as you like Spiderman.

a/n: (maybe too much) british slang used

You hate your next door neighbor. No, no you loathe your next door neighbor. You think he is the worst person to possibly exist. His stupid flat decorations, his loud punk-rock music blasting at unruly hours, the way he would come back to his flat at 4 am stomping his boots yelling with his friends about their latest anarchist protest. But you hate nothing more than the way he looks at you.

Everytime you try yelling at him he opens his door with the cheekiest grin on his face. While you’re standing there fuming he’s leaning against the door panel looking you up and down. The worst part is how much he tries to smooth talk you.

“I already told you how annoying your music is, no one wants to hear that at 3 am alright? Some of us have work in the morning,” you complain, smoke practically coming out of your ears.

“Oh c’mon love it’s not that bad. Don’t have to be such a tosser ‘bout it. It messes up that pretty face of yours,” he says.

“Are you daft? You’re the one keeping everyone up at night with your dumb guitar,” you roll your eyes.

“It’s not that big a deal sweetheart. Y’know i'm starting to think you’re making up rubbish just so you can talk to me more. I’ll admit it’s pretty cute but you could just ask me out,” he leans closer to your flushed face.

“I don’t fancy you if that’s what you mean,” you scoff.

“Not saying that. I’m saying if you wanna snog me so bad you could just say so,” he shrugs.

You could burst out laughing. Kiss him? That’s fucking hilarious.

“You’re joking right? i’d rather die.”

“I don’t believe in comedy, love,” he says.

“Of course you don’t,” you mumble as you storm off back to your door.

You’ve decided he is the worst person ever. He doesn’t deserve your efforts and time.

You set your keys down and fall into bed as you hear amp feedback and the sounds of Hobie strumming his guitar. You can’t help but roll your eyes. How could someone be so incompetent?

You reach your hand over to where the bed and the wall meet to grab your Spiderman plush. You hate to admit it because it’s kind of dumb but you’ve always loved spiderman. Ever since you were a little kid you collected posters, figures, pins, and merchandise having to do with the superhero. Even now, your walls are decorated in spiderman posters, you own spiderman clothing, and even printed your keys to have a blue and red spider web on them.

There was something so nostalgic to the vigilante and his style that you had to adorn your room with touches of blue and red. You thought spiderman was the embodiment of “cool.” From his suit to the way he acted around criminals to the electric guitar on his back. Sure, a guitar was the main thing you hated about Hobie but Spiderman did it better. He made it work in the way Hobie dreams of.

You wake up to the loudest knock on your front door you’ve ever heard. You immediately know it’s him. You try to ignore the blaring pounding coming from your door but it keeps going. You force yourself to get up and answer the door. You hope you can open it, yell at him, then go back to bed.

To your dismay the second you open the door Hobie places his hand on the top of the wood, stopping you from moving it anywhere else.

“What do you want this early?” you groan.

“It’s like 9 am, love. But anyway-” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. You’re too groggy to notice that he’s staring inside of your flat. His eyes search the walls and decor in front of him.

“So, I take it you like Spiderman?” He laughs.

“That’s none of your business,” you sigh, crossing your arms.

He pushes his way inside of your flat, moving around like he’s looking for buried treasure. He picks up memorabilia and smiles at them. He holds up a Spider-Punk figurine and turns towards you.

“Spider-Punk huh?”

“Don’t touch my stuff! You know this is technically breaking and entering,” you scold him, taking the figure out of his hand.

He puts his hands in his pockets and just smirks at you. That stupid smirk, displaying half of his teeth and perfectly showing his lip ring.

“What do you want from me, Hobie?” you question after placing the figure back on its stand.

“Jus- Just wanted to apologize for last night,” he starts.

“You mean this morning? We talked at 1 am, remember?” You say, passive aggressively.

“Right, whatever. You’re… You’re right,” he exhaled, “I shouldn’t be blasting my music that early. It’s inconsiderate and rude to the people in my vicinity,” he breathes.

In the time you’ve known him you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say sorry. You’re taken aback, did he really apologize? And did he sound genuinely sorry?

“Oh, oh uhm thanks,” you sat, still skeptical a camera crew would come out laughing saying this whole thing was a prank.

“I wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come to my show tonight? We could get dinner after or whatever you want,” He scratches the back of his neck, he’s nervous.

“I’d like that, I guess,” you reluctantly say.

“Wicked. Uhm, i’ll be leaving then. Sorry again,” he says. Shooting finger guns at you and making his way out the door.

You smile, maybe, just maybe, Hobies getting to you. As he’s leaving you could swear you see some blue and red material with spikes on it slipping out of his pocket.

[weirdsht]

cale with idiots in love trope

- "You're cute" "hm?" "I said you look like a boot."

- casual displays of affection, hand holding bc s/o would space out and may or may not get lost (directionally challenged)

- pretending everything is casual, but they're soooo in love with each other

- "I look like a mess" "the prettiest mess"

- the kids absolutely love when they get cuddles with cale and s/o

- maybe braiding cales hair??

- whenever cale goes somewhere and can't bring them, they'd go like "I'll be going for a while" (cale) "I'll always be here" (s/o)

- stealing cales clothes bc its comfy!!

- "are you asleep?" "...no" "wanna talk?"

- "I love you" "I've loved you my entire life"

Can’t Two People Be Friends? - Cale/Gn! Reader

tags: gender-neutral reader, deputy commander reader, getting together fic, vague novel spoilers, is told from Alberu's perspective, tired Alberu, save Alberu from his dumb dongsaeng, use of degrading words (e.g. stupid) but it's in a loving way, have I mentioned Alberu is tired of Cale's shit?

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

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another anon said: cale who acts like a lover to his "closest confidant", though they are not in a relationship, they certainly do act like one– to the point that his crew would question them, to which they'd respond "We're just friends" "What do you mean? They look at you like you're their entire world"– which then starts their operation, get cale a lover

Cale Henituse is someone who has a lot of people under his wing. He's a heroic person busy saving the continents– no, the world. Which was why it is no surprise to find out that he has a close confidant. He has a second-in-command who helps him plan everything and is in charge of backup plans in case something goes wrong.

All of that is normal. Expected even.

What isn’t normal is how they act towards each other.

They act like… people who have a deeper relationship than just friends, for lack of a better term.

Like right now. [Name] is holding onto Cale’s arms as they navigate through this tiresome ball. Looking at him as if he had hung up the moon and the stars.

“Your Highness, you are quite close to the both of them… are we sure they are merely close friends?”

One of the nobles talking to Alberu Crossman questions as everyone watches the commander-and-deputy-commander duo dance in the centre of the hall.

“Of course they are. They have said so themselves.”

Alberu adds on at the end about how they shouldn’t inquire about another person’s private life.

However, Alberu himself is quite frustrated.

It was the truth when he said the two are nothing more than friends. And that’s what frustrates him. The two idiots can’t see the way they stare at each other. Can’t notice how they are unconsciously each other’s priority no matter what happens.

Alberu also knows that he isn’t the only one feeling this way.

No, as a matter of fact, everyone in Cale’s group feels the same frustration the future king feels.

“When will they get together? They deny their feelings as if we didn’t see them cuddling last night while reading a novel.”

On complained one day while eating the crown prince’s cookies.

“I’ve always known that our young master was quite dense in the aspect of love but… hmmm, I must say that this level is getting frustrating.”

Ron shared his own opinion as he served everyone tea.

Well everyone except the two people who are the topic of their discussion. Of course, they aren’t. For they were busy cuddling in the newly installed swing in the garden of the black castle while reading a novel. [Name] is busy platonically nuzzling their head in Cale’s chest, while Cale himself is busy platonically draping his legs over [name] as they lay down on the large swing.

‘Merely friends my ass’

Alberu thinks to himself as he watches the two from the window while sipping on the tea Ron served.

The people inside the room merely complained about Cale and [Name]’s relationship. They did not say anything about forcing them to get together and be in a romantic relationship.

And it’s not because they respect what the two have now.

No, it was simply because they didn’t need to say such things out loud. The complaints they have said out loud are enough confirmation to ensure that everyone is on the same page.

That everyone will be doing their best to show those two knuckleheads that what they have is more than platonic.

“You do know that you only let [Name] braid your hair like that. Do you realise just how much special privilege you give them?”

“What special privilege? The kids also braided my hair.”

Alberu’s dumb dongsaeng stared at him in confusion and the crown prince swears his about to have an aneurysm.

“Yes, but they are your kids. Of course, you’ll indulge them.”

“That is true…”

For a moment Alberu thought that they were finally heading somewhere.

“But [Name] is the only one who can braid my hair neatly like this.”

Turns out the only place they are heading to is back to square one.

Alberu pushed down the urge to smack a chair in his beloved dongsaeng’s face. How could he forget Ron’s existence? The Ron that does every task perfectly, but still could not braid the redhead’s hair because ‘only [Name] can do it perfectly’.

Cale better be glad Alberu didn’t transform Taerang into a hammer and threw it in his face.

“I love you, you know that right?”

[Name] had asked Cale during one of their cuddling sessions and Raon’s ears perked up.

“Of course I do.”

Cale answered casually and it got Raon’s hopes up.

“Are you guys together???”

He asked, eyes full of hope.

“What do you mean silly? Of course, we’re together, we’ve been friends for years now.”

That night Raon did not speak to any of them, and the two idiots only thought he was sick and tried to coax him to talk to them.

Subtle advances like that continued for a while before they all admitted defeat. One day Rosalyn even straight up asked [Name] how they felt about Cale. To which the deputy commander only responded with “he’s my best friend of course” before going on their merry way to steal another one of Cale’s clothes.

Just when all of them are about to give up Alberu caught the two of them talking in that same swing one night. 

He was about to go back to the palace. Only went to sneak into Raon’s castle to talk to Cale about an important business that cannot be said through a communication device. However, just as he was about to teleport back he heard the two.

“Why are you still awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep. You weren’t in bed.”

“Wanna talk then?”

Alberu silently scoffs at them. Even their conversations sound like their married already.

They talk for a few minutes. Topics vary from the mundane to philosophical questions no one can answer. 

It didn’t look like Alberu would get anything from eavesdropping so he thinks about going home.

But then…

“I know we’re both too busy. I know this will only add more burden to you. However, I must say it.”

[Name] spoke gently. Their eyes which were previously watching the stars shifted their focus to stare at Cale’s face.

“I love you. I love you so much. I love you more than life.”

That made the crown prince stop in his tracks. For a moment he remembers Raon’s complaints about how they seem to say “I love you” to each other without it meaning anything. For a moment he doubted if it was a confession.

Of course that didn’t stop him from recording the whole thing.

“I love you too. I’ve loved you this entire time. I’ll love you even after death.”

At Cale’s reciprocity, Alberu finally moved to give the privacy. He may want to see the two of them get together, but he does not want to see them kiss. A confession was enough to satisfy him.

But the irritation he feels from waiting for them to confess did not go away.

Hence why instead of going home he first went to his instructor, Choi Han.

Alberu Crossman did not say to the swordmaster. He only hands him a piece of paper before going back to his palace.

In that paper wrote:

The two idiots are finally together. I have a recording if anyone is interested. I’ll show it in exchange for a recording of you lightly smacking my lovely dongsaeng head upside-down. I’m sure my instructor will understand where I’m coming from.

Choi Han does. He greatly understands where his student was coming from.

That’s why, the next morning he was setting up a hidden recording device with a smile on his face.

Oh, he also got everyone’s permission before he set it up. In fact, most of them cheered at the thought of him physically knocking some sense in their young master’s head. 

[valiwrites]

reincarnation ✧.* formula 1

part 2 part 3

: ̗̀➛ pairing: formula 1 x senna!reincarnation!male!oc (nico santos) : ̗̀➛ warnings: strong language, people shipping drivers but nothing serious, bromance, hate comments : ̗̀➛ author’s note: i wrote this before and got a lot of hate for it. if it’s not your thing, just scroll past—no need to spread negativity. i didn’t write this just to read mean comments.

: ̗̀➛ smau

masterlist

danielricciardo ✔︎

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, nicosantos and 1.3m others

danielricciardo the funniest part was... i had to held him back so he didn't murder anyone yesterday

view all 345k comments

user1 reason 727390 why daniel and nico are my fav duo

user2 showed my dad a picture of nico and he said he hasn't seen anything of senna in years i had to explain to him that this is not senna 😭

user3 my mom said that too!! but nico hates being called senna

charles_leclerc i haven't seen nico that mad ever

user4 why is the first picture so wholesome tho omg

user5 because danny is wholesome

user6 nico was ready to commit a whole crime and daniel said ✨no✨

maxverstappen1 i was lowkey scared for my life not gonna lie

user7 danny out here being the emotional support human for a guy who could probably fight god

user8 nah but the way nico looks at daniel in the vid… y’all seeing this or am i delulu

user3 the way his eyes soften when he looks at daniel is so cute

user5 y'all are so delusional he didn't even look at daniel 😭

lando nico was pacing like a dad whose kid just crashed his car 💀

user9 why does every chaotic duo have one guy who keeps the other from getting arrested

user10 danny being the only thing between nico and a felony is so on brand

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by danielricciardo, mickschumacher, lando and 3.2m others

nicosantos mood after yesterday

view all 743k comments

user1 help nico really wanted to throw hands 😭😭

nicosantos you know it

user2 nico has a cat???

user3 it's max's cat lmaoo

user4 he kinda fine

user5 i have been saying that but no one listens to me

user6 the way he just crouched by daniel’s car like it’s some kind of secret mission 💀

user7 lowkey nico should’ve been in the movie ‘mad man on the edge'

user8 no way you can look at them and not see the chemistry. it's so obvious

user9 nah, the way nico looks at daniel in that video is giving ‘you’re mine’ vibes

user10 no wtf don't say that...

user11 why do i feel like nico is totally in love with daniel and he just doesn’t know it yet?

user12 why is everyone suddently shipping them hello

user13 bc daniel hugged nico at the press conference 😭

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by lando, danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 2.5m others

nicosantos ok, so we look alike. i get it. but let’s be real, i’m not him. just because we share a lot similarities doesn’t mean we’re the same person. i’ve been getting a lot of hate in my DMs, and honestly, it’s getting old. so, can we all just chill and let me live my own life? respect is all i’m asking for

view all 954k comments

user1 literally, it’s just a resemblance, relax people

user2 the hate is so uncalled for. nico deserves respect not this mess

user3 people acting like he’s actually senna’s clone, chill out

user4 he's trying really hard to be 🙄

user5 the fact that nico has to explain this is crazy. let him breathe

user6 you can’t just deny the resemblance though, it’s a little weird you’re acting like it’s nothing

nicosantos i’m not denying it, but i’m also not claiming to be someone i’m not. it’s not that complicated

user7 he’s just salty because people keep bringing up senna. get over it

user8 he doesn’t owe anyone an apology for looking like someone. leave him alone

niconews ✔︎

liked by 47k users

niconews eyes never lie... this was nico just a day after all the hate he’s been facing recently. in a raw moment during an interview, when asked, "you seem pretty pissed at the situation," he didn’t hold back. nico responded, "well, people stick their noses in everyone’s business without thinking about feelings. i didn’t ask to be born the way i am, i’m just trying to live my life." his voice cracked, and despite trying to hold it together, tears started to form. it was a moment that showed just how much this constant pressure has been affecting him. in a world where we all expect people to be perfect or fit into certain molds, nico's vulnerability spoke volumes.

view all 9k comments

user1 it's heartbreaking to see someone so kind and real get treated like this

user2 the pressure he must be under is insane. we forget these are real people

user3 this is so unfair, just let the guy breathe for once

user4 he’s literally milking the whole senna comparison for attention. stop pretending like it’s all ‘the haters’

niconews if you think that’s what this is about, you clearly missed the point

user4 he’s literally crying over people pointing out how much he looks like senna? get over it niconews it’s not about looks, it’s about respect. maybe try understanding that

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by lando, carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 4.1m others

nicosantos bromance is real

tagged: lando

view all 1.4m comments

user1 aww the senna cap

user2 i love nico he's adorable

user3 lando 😭😭

user4 lando is always the funniest person in the group

user5 nico with the senna cap is a whole vibe. love the respect for the legend

user6 this is the kind of bromance we all need in our lives

user7 nico wearing the senna cap but being his own person? love that for him

nicosantos see now i can't tell if you're being sarcastic or fr 💀

user7 i was being fr 😭😭

user8 someone tell lando to stop being this extra, i can’t keep up

[mediumgayitalian]

A whisp of hair tickles his cheek, following the elbow resting on his shoulder. Lee glances over as Cass swipes the strands back behind her ear.

“So,” she says, very nearly dropping her plate. Lee reaches over and gently tilts it back upright. His sister Does Not notice.

He lets it fall. She doesn’t notice that, either. Rest in peace, Stale Piece of Olive Bread, Single Grape, and Sprig of Parsley (?). You will be missed.

“So,” Lee repeats. He follows her eyes, gaze landing on a frizzy mess of blond curls and vacant blue eyes. “…Ah. So.”

Cass’s fork twirls in the general direction of their new baby brother. Several other people in line at the braziers also look over to where she’s pointing, glance obviously back towards the two of them, leaning close, and then pretend to look away while very clearly straining to hear. What a place, Camp Half-Blood.

“We gotta fix that.”

Lee grunts. She’s right — rarely does he ever see a kid Will’s age so blasé and sad about camp for so long.

But.

The circumstances.

“We already talked to Luke, Cass.”

She waves a hand. Her fork very nearly misses his eye. Lee would like, for once, if she could maybe use perhaps one ounce of her prophetic abilities to be less of a klutz. “Eh, Luke doesn’t know everything. There’s gotta be something he didn’t try, something Will likes. I mean, I think I saw the barest little hint of a smile when Diana was cussing Michael out yesterday.”

“Achlys would smile at that,” Lee argues. “I mean, come on. He got flamed. It was embarrassing.”

“Fair, fair.”

Lee looks back at Will. He still sits at the edge of the Apollo picnic table, chin on the worn-smooth wood, poking vaguely at the food Diana got for him. There’s a decent spread — some of the roast chicken, some of the lemon potatoes, probably more vegetables than any eight year old would be willing to eat, but it’s not like they would know. Will barely eats anything. If it weren’t for the Twizzlers that keep disappearing from Lee’s stash under the floorboards, he would’ve stuck the kid on an IV already. It’s been weeks.

“We could maybe try the weapons rounds again,” Cass murmurs. “I know Luke did it on intake, but maybe —”

She glances over, peeking through the edge of her hair, and cuts herself off, mouth furrowing as she bites the inside of her cheek. The son of Hermes in question leans on one of his younger siblings, grinning as they shriek and complain, laughing as another kid empties out what looks like the entire camp stash of cutlery from her pockets. Lee’s not dumb — he saw the difference, too. There’s no demigod more kind and welcoming and determined than Luke Castellan, Lee knows it, Lee’s experienced it, but —

When Will came up Half-Blood Hill, he was sobbing. He scratched four other demigods trying to squirm his way back to where his mother was running back to her car, shoulders heaving with her own cries, face-tear streaked and laden with guilt as she watched him go. When Will was dragged to the Big House, he was there ‘til nightfall. When Will was placed, as all are, in Hermes, he didn’t leave the cabin for days.

Camp doesn’t usually see that. Luke doesn’t usually see that. And as much as the guy has seen everything, there’s nothing he can handle less than a demigod who desperately wants to go home.

It’s not something anyone brings up.

“We’ll give it a go after dinner,” Lee agrees.

It’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing. It might help to get a tour of what Camp offers by someone a little more…qualified. Or enthusiastic, rather. Will’s eight, after all. What kind of eight-year-old doesn’t want to swing a real sword at a training dummy? Or, hell, at another eight-year-old? Not that there are many other eight-year-olds at camp this lovely April, but Annabeth is like…ten. Lee thinks. Eleven? Something like that. Maybe she’ll swing a sword around with the kid. She only tends to be lethal when someone is doubting her. She’ll probably be very lenient on someone who is just learning.

Well.

Like, one would hope.

Whatever. It’ll sort itself out.

He repeats it to himself as he sits down, plastering a wide smile on his face and meeting Will’s eyes. Will stares back, eyes big and dead, but Lee refuses to look away first, to look down. Eventually Will return his gaze to the brown mush he’s made out of his plate.

“Hi,” he hedges.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Will hums. From beside him, Diana sighs — that is the extent of what they usually get. A little more, actually. The hi was slightly more animated than usual. More like a single two-by-four than a rotting corpse, in terms of spirited greetings.

If Lee is anything, though, it’s annoying and persistent. It’s actually what led to his getting claimed last winter.

“You get something to drink?”

Will shrugs. Lee glances into his cup to see that he has not, in fact, gotten anything to drink.

“They’re enchanted, you know.” He taps his own cup. “Anything you ask for, you get. I get Green Apple Kool-Aid.”

“‘Cus you’re a freak,” Michael mutters. Lee shoves him off the table.

Will scrunches his nose. “…Enchanted cups?”

The look he levels in Lee’s direction is equivalent, he imagines, to the look the jury gave OJ Simpson on his first foray of the witness stand, but the allure of discontinued novelty drinks must be stronger than his suspicion, because he tilts his cup closer to him, thinks for a minute, and then says, “Coke.”

All three of them hold their breath. Even Michael, who is recovering from his recent trip to the ground. The cup slowly fills with sparkling amber liquid.

Will frowns.

“Hey,” he says, something akin to a pout taking over his face, “I asked for coke.”

The drink stops fizzing. It, too, seems to regard the young boy in confusion.

“That would indeed be Coke,” Diana says eventually.

Will scowls. (It is, probably unfortunately for him, a little bit adorable, because his cheeks are very pudgy and he has quite a lot of freckles and his whole face seems to scrunch with the movement. Like a baby hippo. Lee tries really very hard not to smile but it’s something of a losing battle, he thinks.)

“It gave me cola!”

Lee looks at Cass. Cass looks at Lee. Cass looks at Michael, then, and Lee looks at Diana, and they all kind of look at each other and envision the words what the fuck floating between them in wavy comic sans.

“That would be the case,” tries Michael. Lee can see that he tries very hard not to tack ‘you dumbass’ on the end there. Lee pats him on the shoulder in recognition for his efforts.

“I asked for coke!”

“Okay, let’s maybe back up a bit,” Cass thankfully says, before Lee can utter his very eloquent ‘huh’. “What are you asking for, hun?”

“Coke!”

“No, I — I, uh, I got that part.” She purses her lips very thoughtfully. “Are you thinking of, maybe, Diet Coke?”

“No! Regular orange coke!”

“Okay,” mutters Diana. “Okay, awesome, I love it when everything makes sense.”

“Orange coke!” insists Will again. And, like, yeah, they brought this on themselves. When Lee scraped off a portion of his food and prayed for more emotion from Will, he did not specify. He was under the unfortunate misconception that his father loved him and was not a sociopathic genie. That’s on him. But still. “The fruity one! With the orange lid an’ the F on the bottle an’ not the one with no bubbles! The coke one!”

“Are you thinking maybe of Fanta?” Cass says, finally. She makes a weird shape with her fingers. “Odd bottle shape? Neon?”

“Yes!” exclaims Will, visibly relieved. “The orange coke! The good one!”

The cup quickly ripples and changes into a liquid the approximate colour of their shirts, only harder to look at. Will narrows his eyes, drags it over, dips his tongue into it, and then lights up, chugging it down with the zeal and zest Aphrodite kids do cranberry juice.

“One thing they got right up here,” he says happily, wiping the sticky moustache off his top lip. He, for the first time, looks a little less like there is a giant aching hole in the centre of him.

All at once, Lee remembers the one time his mother took him with her to one of her conferences, deep down in Arkansas. They stopped for Wendy’s on the drive. Lee requested Coke. The cashier asked ‘what kind’. Lee stared blankly at her for a total of at least seventeen solid seconds before replying ‘uh, the…Coke…kind?’ and received a large disappointing cup of Sprite.

“Oh my gods,” he says. He now knows, he feels, at least an approximation of the shock Phaethon felt that one time. “You’re Texan.”

None of his siblings share in the euphoria of this realization. This eureka moment, really. Least of all Will, who seems to be wondering if he can, perhaps, put in a request to be claimed by another god with smarter children.

“Lee,” says Cass gently, “have you gotten dumber?”

“No, no, he’s Texan,” Lee repeats. “They’re like. They say weird shit down there.” He gestures at Will, who is rapidly shifting from bewildered to offended. Lee would feel bad if it wasn’t a little bit funny. “Coke means pop. Fixin’ means intending. Might could — actually, I’m not sure what might could means, and at this point I’m too afraid to ask.”

“It means might could!” Will cries. He throws his hands up in exasperation which would be better conveyed where his hands not still pudgy enough to have the little indents on the knuckles. Lee melts to the actual floor. “That’s like askin’ — askin’ what ‘the’ means! It means ‘the’!”

“Oh my gods,” breathes Diana, hand pressed to her mouth. “Oh my gods, he’s adorable.”

“What does ‘might could’ mean, he says! Nex’ thing I’mma hear’s gonna be some stupid Yank quest’n ‘bout y’all, I bet —”

There is a thump as Michael slides right off the bench. This time, Lee doesn’t even need to push him.

“Yank,” he wheezes, from the floor. There are real tears in his eyes. “You’re my favourite, kid, holy fuck —”

Will stomps his little foot. It’s so — tiny. Bite sized. The lights in the sole twinkle like crazy. He’s got Princess Leia on the heels.

Lee is going to melt into goo.

“Who authorized him to be this goddamn cute,” Lee whisper-yells. “Like, genuinely. Look at him.

“Believe me, I’m looking,” Cass says, smiling softly. She knocks their shoulders together, snorting as Will chokes on his own indignity, hollering something about and there’s no such thing as healthy brisket! how about that! til’ his freckly face glows.

“Oh, wait, shit, that’s real,” Lee says. “That’s — yo, he’s actually bioluminescing. Are you seeing this? I am seeing this.”

“Didn’t know that was something we could do,” Diana comments. She grabs her cup, empties it into Michael’s (making a truly — truly — rank concoction of milk and Mountain Dew, Lee physically recoils) and stares at it until it refills.

“Hey, Glowstick.”

Will freezes. The most affronted look Lee has ever seen on a child scrunches his squishy face. Cass coos. Michael starts cackling again.

“Who are you talking to,” Will demands, scowling.

Diana looks at him. She raises her eyebrows.

“You tell me, Johnny Storm.”

“That’s a — that’s a bad reference!”

“Just — here.” Diana slides over the cup before Will can get started again. “Here’s your coke, kid.”

Will squints at the cup for several seconds. Diana holds it out dutifully. Well, for a dutiful seven seconds before her arm gets tired, then she sets it down and moves her hand away.

“Mama says I’m not allowed two cokes in a row,” he says finally.

Lee glances over at Cass. She grimaces back.

Here we go.

Diana just blinks.

“What does your Mama say about throwing stones at people named Clarisse from the roof of the Big House?”

“She never mentioned.”

“Well, we’re allowed to do that here. The rules say you can have two cokes, too, if you want.”

Will screws up his face. He gnaws on his bottom lip. Lee holds his breath.

Finally, he takes the tiniest of little sips.

“I guess two cokes is kind of nice,” he says.

Lee smiles. He reaches over, paying close attention in case Will’s a biter — you never know at Camp Half-Blood — and ruffles the kid’s frizzy curls.

“Some good things about camp, huh?”

Will huffs. “It’s still not great.” He sets his cup down. His soda moustache sits at a firm handlebar. Cass muffles a snort in her hands. “But not bad for a bunch of Yanks.”

Lee decides that he will take that. A stubborn, sarcastic Will is better than a miserable one. They got time. They’ll get there.

Plus, when Michael takes a mindless sip of his Surprise Concoction and sprays it all over Diana’s face, hacking and cussing up a storm, Will even smiles.

Yeah. They might even get there soon.

[jayparked]

congrats & thanks for doing this event! can i req 75+84 with sunghoon? ty!

WARNINGS: semi public sex, slightly mean dom hoon, sunghoon makes y/n answer the phone while they fuck!, possessive hoon, language, bulge pushing, fingering, hoon's kind of a manhandler idk, creampie

WC: 761

"th-there are people outside this door-!" your words are quickly muffled by sunghoon's hand, his palm warm against your lips.

"well, this isn't about them, is it? they're out here shopping and it's just you and me in here. now stay quiet and take it."

your muffled moans only encourage sunghoon more, his fingers quickening against your clit while molding his body against yours. every twitch of your body has you unintentionally grinding against his growing erection. it's driving him crazy seeing how quickly you come undone in his grasp. but what he loves most is that no matter where or when, if sunghoon wanted you, you'd let him have you.

your phone that's resting on the dressing room seat lights up and your body stiffens at the displayed contact name.

"hm? i thought you cut him off? thought i was the only one you were messing with now?"

you don't answer right away, eliciting a harsh flick from sunghoon's fingers onto your clit.

"i did! you are!"

"i don't believe you." sunghoon grunts as his fingers easily enter your sopping hole. he doesn't even bother prepping you or trying to stretch you out properly, already inserting three fingers knuckle deep, scissoring as a relentlessly brutal pace.

"but you think about me when they're fucking you, don't you?"

"i...that's not true." who are you kidding? there's really no comparison between the two. in every category sunghoon wins; size, pacing, ex

"oh? you really think you can lie to me right now? with the position i have you in? i don't you need me to remind you who's cock you cry out for every night. if he really was a good fuck it would be him here with you, but no. you chose me. now pick up the phone and tell him you're done with him"

"n-now?"

"no, next tuesday- yes, fucking right now. answer the damn phone. i want him to hear this."

you quickly lean forward and grab your phone, sunghoon's hands never leaving your body. not even giving yourself a chance to back down, you answer the call.

"helLO?" you gasp, looking behind you to see the wide smirk on sunghoon's face as he pushes his cock past your folds, guiding your hips back until he's fully sheathed inside you.

"y/n? are you okay? i haven't heard from you in a while and i miss you-"

sunghoon presses his hand against your stomach as he thrusts deeply into you. barely catching the small scream bubbling in your throat, you clamp a hand over your mouth and breathe heavily through your nose, feeling the way sunghoon's large hand presses against his own bulge inside you.

guiding your hand away from your face, sunghoon quickly grabs the phone and presses the speaker button and places it back on the bench. he silently presses a hand between your shoulder blades and bends you down slightly before grabbing both of your wrists and moving them behind your back. satisfied with the position he has you in, sunghoon starts thrusting deep and vigorously. he loves the sound your bodies makes together, the slapping of skin on skin and the squelching of your arousal coating his cock. it's something he'll never get tired of and he's soaring with pride at the way the sounds echo in the small fitting room, surely being picked up on your phone for your previous toy to hear.

"uhhh...y/n do i need to call you back?"

"don't bother," sunghoon chuckles, "she doesn't need you anymore." sunghoon ruts his hips into you in a way that forces a moan from you, one you can't hold in any longer no matter how hard you try. three faint beeps sound from your phone as the other boy hangs up, leaving you completely at sunghoon's mercy.

even with the competition successfully removed from the picture, sunghoon does not let up. he releases your hands, letting you stumble forward until you're able to brace yourself against the mirror, his pace never faultering. sunghoon leans down and bites at the back of your shoulder, teeth sinking deep enough to bruise. meanwhile, his pace quickens, clearly chasing his release while still feeling the high of successfully claiming you in front of his opponent. without warning, sunghoon releases inside you, softly groaning your name as he slowly uses you to milk every last drop of his load out of him.

he stills in your for a moment, panting softly before placing a swift kiss to your shoulder as he removes himself from you. "that'll show him."

♡ for part of my 1k follower celebration ♡ masterlist