#and make everyone Deal With The Situation

[pucksandpower]

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chef!Max Verstappen x vegan!Reader

Summary: in which an unstoppable force (the stubborn Michelin-starred chef of a glitzy steakhouse) meets an immovable object (the vegan just looking for something she can actually eat) … and the rest, as they say, is history

The steakhouse is packed, the ambient light just dim enough to cast a flattering glow over everyone at the long wooden table. Glasses clink together in a chorus of celebration, laughter, and conversation filling the air as your friends lean in close to chat. The table is filled with shared appetizers — charred octopus, beef tallow truffle fries, the occasional bacon-wrapped date — but you’re preoccupied with the thick menu in your hand.

“What’s good here?” You ask, keeping your voice casual. But inside, you’re already scanning for the little green leaf symbols that typically offer you some respite. There’s not a single one. It’s all meat, meat, meat.

“Everything,” someone pipes up. “But definitely the steak.”

You give them a polite smile, already sensing the dilemma growing in your chest. You could’ve sworn someone mentioned the place had plant-based options. But this is a Michelin-starred steakhouse — it seems like steak is the only thing anyone’s interested in tonight.

“Anything catching your eye?” You friend across the table asks, eyes bright with excitement.

“Not exactly.” You chew on your lip, setting the menu down. “I’m, uh, vegan.”

A silence falls over your corner of the table, the chatter continuing elsewhere as your friends stare at you. You feel your cheeks heat up, the familiar twinge of anxiety flaring up as you mentally prepare for the usual questions.

“Vegan? Seriously?” One of them finally says, brow furrowing. “You’re in the wrong place for that.”

“Yeah, it’s just ... it’s my thing, you know?” You laugh lightly, hoping to defuse the situation. “I’m sure they can whip something up in the kitchen, right?”

“I don’t know, this place is pretty strict,” another friend comments, glancing towards the kitchen doors as if expecting a sous-chef to pop out and reprimand you. “But you could ask.”

You take a breath, nodding. “Yeah, I’ll ask.”

The waiter approaches, a polished smile on his face as he sets down more drinks and asks if you’ve made any decisions. You tilt your head, giving him a hopeful look.

“I was wondering if the kitchen could prepare something vegan?” You say, your voice steady but polite. “I didn’t see anything on the menu, and-”

“I’ll ask the chef,” he cuts in smoothly, though there’s a slight twitch in his jaw as he scribbles something in his notepad. “One moment.”

As he disappears towards the back, your friends exchange wary glances. You try to brush it off with another easy smile, though your nerves are prickling beneath the surface.

“This could be interesting,” someone says, raising their eyebrows. “Michelin-starred chefs aren’t exactly known for accommodating special requests.”

“Yeah, well, I’m hoping this one’s different,” you say, half-joking, though you can’t shake the knot in your stomach.

The seconds tick by, each one dragging out longer than the last. You sip at your water, making small talk, but your mind is already in the kitchen, imagining what kind of chef you’re dealing with. When the kitchen doors finally swing open, you feel a flutter of anxiety — and maybe a little curiosity.

He’s not what you expect.

Max Verstappen storms out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel with an intensity that makes the air crackle around him. His blue eyes are sharp, his jaw tight, and there’s a heat in his expression that has nothing to do with the stoves behind him. He’s annoyed. No, more than annoyed — he’s furious.

And when he locks eyes with you, you feel like the world narrows down to just the two of you.

“Who asked for vegan?” His voice is clipped, Dutch accent thick, and it’s obvious he’s not here to make friends. Your friends glance between the two of you, sensing the impending storm, but you lift your chin, refusing to be intimidated.

“I did,” you say, matching his intensity with your own steady gaze. “Is that a problem?”

Max narrows his eyes, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “This is a steakhouse,” he says slowly, as if explaining something very simple to a child. “A Michelin-starred steakhouse. I don’t make rabbit food.”

“Then maybe tonight you could make an exception,” you reply, keeping your tone even but firm. “I’m sure a chef of your caliber could whip something up.”

A scoff escapes him, and for a moment, you think he’s about to walk away. But instead, he steps closer, the heat of his presence almost tangible. “You think I’m going to ruin my kitchen with tofu or whatever it is you people eat?”

You blink at him, thrown off balance for a second by the sheer force of his disdain. But you gather yourself quickly, leaning forward slightly. “So you’re saying you can’t do it? That it’s too much for you?”

The challenge hangs in the air between you, thick with tension. Max’s jaw clenches, his eyes sparking with something dangerous. But then, to your surprise, he laughs — a short, harsh sound that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m not making you anything,” he says, finality in his voice. “You should’ve picked a different restaurant.”

“Maybe I would have, if I’d known the chef had such limited skills,” you retort, not backing down.

His eyes darken, and for a moment, you think you’ve gone too far. But then, something shifts. The anger in his expression falters, replaced by something else — something almost amused.

“You’re really pushing it,” he mutters, but there’s a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You feel a strange thrill at that, your pulse quickening. “I’m just asking you to do your job. Isn’t a good chef supposed to cater to all his customers?”

“A good chef is supposed to maintain the integrity of his menu,” he shoots back. “Not cater to every whim that walks through the door.”

“Maybe a great chef can do both,” you say quietly, watching him closely.

For a long moment, he just stares at you, his gaze intense and unreadable. You’re not sure what you expect him to do next — yell, walk away, maybe call security to kick you out — but what happens is the last thing you expect.

He leans in even closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous murmur. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

“Not particularly,” you reply, heart pounding. “I just know what I want.”

Max holds your gaze for a moment longer, then straightens up, tossing the towel over his shoulder. “You’re not going to win this,” he says, but there’s a hint of something in his voice — a challenge, maybe.

“We’ll see about that,” you reply, giving him a small, almost defiant smile.

He doesn’t smile back, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes, something that makes your breath catch in your throat. Without another word, he turns on his heel and heads back to the kitchen, the doors swinging shut behind him with a decisive thud.

The table is silent for a moment, everyone exchanging wide-eyed looks as if they can’t believe what just happened. Your heart is still racing, your mind replaying the exchange over and over, analyzing every word, every glance.

“Did you just ...” one of your friends starts, trailing off in disbelief.

“I think I did,” you reply, a bit dazed yourself. But beneath the shock, there’s a strange sense of satisfaction. You’re not sure what it is — maybe the fact that you stood your ground, or maybe it’s something else, something about the way Max looked at you in those final moments.

Whatever it is, it leaves you feeling more alive than you have in a long time.

“Okay, that was intense,” someone else says, still staring at the kitchen doors. “Are you sure you want to keep pushing him?”

You take a breath, letting the adrenaline course through you. “Yeah. I think I do.”

“Good luck with that,” another friend mutters, though there’s a hint of admiration in their voice.

You don’t need luck, though. Not with this. There’s something about Max — something infuriating and fascinating all at once — that makes you want to see how far you can push him, how much he can take before he cracks. You’re not even sure what you’re aiming for — his respect, his irritation, or something else entirely — but you know you’re not backing down.

The minutes pass, and the chatter around the table picks up again, though you can tell everyone’s still on edge, waiting to see if Max will come back. You sip your water, trying to calm the lingering buzz of energy in your veins. Part of you wonders if you’ve made a mistake, if you’ve pushed too far, but another part — a bigger part — knows that this is exactly where you need to be.

When the kitchen doors finally swing open again, the table falls silent once more. Max strides out, his expression unreadable, and heads straight for you. He doesn’t have a plate in his hands, and for a moment, your heart sinks, thinking he’s come out just to reiterate his refusal.

But instead, he stops in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” you say, meeting his gaze steadily. “I’m not.”

He studies you for a long moment, his blue eyes piercing. Then, to your surprise, he sighs — a heavy, resigned sound.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he mutters, shaking his head slightly.

“So I’ve been told,” you reply, lifting an eyebrow.

He lets out a low, frustrated growl, but you can see the ghost of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. The tension between you is still palpable, but it’s shifted — softened in a way that neither of you acknowledges.

“All right,” he finally says, his tone somewhere between exasperation and something almost like admiration. “I’ll make you something.”

Your friends exchange surprised glances, but you keep your gaze locked on Max, not letting yourself get too excited just yet. “You don’t have to,” you say, though the look in your eyes says otherwise.

“I’m doing this once,” he warns, pointing a finger at you like it’s some kind of punishment. “And if you don’t like it, you’re not getting a refund.”

You bite back a smile. “Deal.”

He narrows his eyes at you one last time before turning on his heel and heading back to the kitchen. The doors swing shut behind him, and this time, the silence at the table is charged with something new — something like disbelief, mingled with anticipation.

“What just happened?” Someone finally asks, breaking the spell.

“I think Max Verstappen just agreed to make a vegan dish,” you say, a touch of incredulity in your own voice.

“That’s got to be a first,” another friend chimes in, shaking their head. “You’ve got some kind of magic power.”

You laugh, the sound lighter than it’s been all night. “I don’t know about that. I think he just likes a challenge.”

“Or maybe he just likes you,” one of them says, waggling their eyebrows suggestively.

You roll your eyes, though a part of you wonders. There was something in the way he looked at you — something beyond just irritation. But you push the thought aside. Whatever this is, it’s not something you can figure out in the middle of a crowded steakhouse.

The minutes tick by, and though the conversation at the table picks up again, you can feel the undercurrent of curiosity running through your friends. They’re all waiting to see what Max will come up with, and honestly, so are you. The anticipation builds, your mind racing with possibilities — what could a Michelin-starred chef possibly make that’s both vegan and up to his standards?

When Max finally reappears, he’s carrying a single plate in his hands. He walks with purpose, his expression serious, but there’s a glint in his eyes that wasn’t there before. As he approaches, the table falls silent again, everyone leaning in to see what he’s brought.

He stops in front of you, holding out the plate with a sort of grudging respect. “Here,” he says simply.

You look down at the dish and feel your breath catch. It’s stunning — an artful arrangement of roasted vegetables, grains, and a vibrant sauce that you can’t quite place. It’s clear that he didn’t just throw something together — he put thought into this. Care, even.

“This looks amazing,” you say, genuine awe in your voice.

Max shrugs, though you can see the faintest hint of pride in his expression. “I told you — just this once. Don’t get used to it.”

You give him a small smile, something warm blooming in your chest. “Thank you.”

He nods, but before he can turn away, you add, “I’m serious. It really means a lot that you did this.”

For a moment, his eyes soften, and you see a flicker of something vulnerable beneath his tough exterior. But then he smirks, the mask slipping back into place. “You’re just lucky I’m in a good mood.”

“Is that what this is?” You tease, raising an eyebrow.

He doesn’t answer, just gives you a look that says more than words ever could. Then, with a final nod, he heads back to the kitchen, leaving you with the dish in front of you and the lingering feeling that something significant just happened.

You take a bite, and it’s even better than it looks. The flavors burst on your tongue, rich and complex, and you can’t help but smile. This is more than just food — it’s a statement, a challenge met and won.

The rest of the meal passes in a blur. Your friends order their steaks, and while they rave about their meals, you’re completely absorbed in your own, savoring every bite. You can’t help but steal glances towards the kitchen every now and then, wondering if Max is watching, if he’s thinking about you as much as you’re thinking about him.

By the time dessert rolls around, you’re almost too full to eat another bite. But when the waiter places a plate in front of you, you freeze.

It’s a small, delicate dessert — something that looks like a cross between a tart and a cake, with a perfectly smooth layer of chocolate ganache on top. But that’s not what catches your attention. Written in dark chocolate sauce across the edge of the plate, in neat, precise handwriting, is a phone number.

You blink, staring at it, your heart skipping a beat. Your friends lean in, catching sight of it as well, and their reactions range from gasps to stifled laughter.

“No way,” someone whispers, eyes wide with disbelief.

You can hardly believe it yourself. But there it is — clear as day, an unmistakable invitation.

You glance towards the kitchen, and just as you do, the doors swing open again. Max steps out, catching your eye from across the room. For a moment, the world seems to narrow down to just the two of you again, the noise and bustle of the restaurant fading into the background.

He gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod — an acknowledgment, a dare. Then, without waiting for a response, he turns and disappears back into the kitchen, leaving you with your friends and the plate in front of you.

“Are you going to call him?” One of them asks, their voice tinged with excitement.

You stare at the number, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “I don’t know,” you admit, though a smile is already spreading across your face.

But deep down, you do know. Because this — this little gesture, this playful challenge — feels like the start of something. Something you’re not quite ready to let go of.

You pick up your fork, take a bite of the dessert, and let the sweetness melt on your tongue. It’s perfect — just like everything else he’s made tonight. And as you savor the taste, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this is the beginning of something far more interesting than you ever expected.

***

The kitchen is filled with the scent of something sweet and savory, a blend of spices and roasted vegetables that wafts through the house and wraps around you like a warm blanket. You’re perched on a barstool at the kitchen island, one hand absentmindedly resting on your growing belly, the other holding a glass of freshly squeezed juice that Max insisted you drink, despite your protests that you were perfectly fine with water.

“You need the vitamins,” he had said, the Dutch accent that once made you bristle now soothing in its familiarity.

“Max, it’s fine,” you replied, but he had just given you that look — the one that says he’s not backing down — and you relented with a sigh, knowing there was no point in arguing.

Now, you watch as he moves around the kitchen with a practiced ease, his hands deftly chopping, stirring, and seasoning. It’s a sight you’ve grown accustomed to over the years, but it never fails to fill you with a mix of awe and gratitude. He’s changed so much since that night at the steakhouse, when he’d been all sharp edges and stubborn pride. Now, those edges have softened, replaced by a quiet determination to make you happy in every way he can.

“How’s it coming along?” You ask, taking another sip of juice and trying to ignore the flutter of excitement in your stomach that has nothing to do with the baby.

“Almost done,” Max replies, glancing up at you with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “Patience, liefje.”

“You know I’m not good at that,” you tease, leaning forward to try and catch a glimpse of what he’s cooking.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he continues to stir the pot on the stove. “I know. That’s why I’m hurrying.”

You can’t help but smile at that, the warmth of his words spreading through you like a comforting embrace. It’s moments like this that make you realize just how lucky you are — how much you’ve both grown together, built a life together. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s been worth it.

“What are you making, anyway?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

He gives you a sly look, his lips curling into a smirk. “You’ll see.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he retorts, his voice full of playful confidence.

“Unfortunately, yes,” you admit with a mock sigh, though the smile on your face gives you away.

He laughs softly, the sound deep and full of affection. “Good thing, too.”

You watch him for a moment longer, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and contentment. He’s wearing an apron over his casual clothes, his hair slightly tousled from the steam rising off the stove. There’s something almost domestic about the whole scene, but it’s more than that—it’s the intimacy of knowing someone so well, of sharing your life with them in all its messy, beautiful complexity.

“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” You ask, your voice softening.

Max glances at you, his expression tender. “Not today.”

“Well, you are,” you say, feeling a sudden rush of emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He pauses, the spoon in his hand hovering over the pot as he looks at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. “You won’t ever have to find out,” he says quietly, his voice laced with a promise.

For a moment, you just stare at each other, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. It’s not the first time he’s said something like that, but it never fails to hit you with the same force, the same certainty that you’ve found something rare and precious in each other.

Before you can respond, he turns back to the stove, breaking the moment with a casualness that belies the depth of what was just said. “Besides,” he adds, a hint of mischief creeping into his tone, “I’m pretty sure you’d starve without me.”

You laugh, the sound a little shaky as you try to regain your composure. “You’re probably right. But I’d find a way.”

“Not as well as I do,” he counters, his voice filled with mock arrogance.

“True,” you admit, watching him with a smile. “You’ve ruined me for all other chefs.”

“Good,” he says, the pride in his voice unmistakable. “That was the plan.”

You shake your head, but you can’t help the warmth that spreads through you. He’s always been confident, sometimes to the point of being infuriating, but there’s a sincerity to it now that wasn’t there before—a genuine desire to take care of you, to be there for you in every way.

“Are you going to let me taste whatever masterpiece you’re working on, or do I have to wait until it’s perfect?” You ask, trying to peek over the counter again.

“Patience,” he repeats, though there’s a glint in his eye that tells you he’s enjoying this far too much.

“Max,” you whine, drawing out the syllable in a way that you know he can’t resist.

He sighs dramatically, as if you’ve just asked him to perform some Herculean task, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. But just a taste.”

He picks up a small spoon and dips it into the pot, then turns and walks over to you, holding it out with a flourish. “Here.”

You take the spoon from him, your curiosity piqued. The aroma is intoxicating, and when you bring the spoon to your lips, the flavors explode on your tongue — rich, savory, with a hint of sweetness that lingers just long enough to make you want more.

“Oh my god,” you say around the mouthful, your eyes widening in surprise. “This is amazing.”

“I know,” he says, clearly pleased with himself as he leans back against the counter, crossing his arms. “I had to do something special for my girls.”

You swallow, the warmth of his words spreading through you like a soft, gentle wave. “Girls, huh?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “So you’re still convinced it’s a girl?”

He shrugs, but there’s a softness in his expression that makes your heart swell. “Just a feeling.”

You smile, resting a hand on your belly. “Well, I’m sure she’ll love whatever you cook for her.”

“She better,” he replies, though his voice is teasing. “Or I’m sending her back.”

You laugh, the sound filling the kitchen and easing the last remnants of tension in the air. “Too late for that.”

“Damn,” he mutters, but there’s a smile on his face as he turns back to the stove, stirring the pot with practiced ease. “Guess we’ll just have to keep trying.”

You watch him for a moment, your heart full to bursting with affection. He’s taken to this whole thing — pregnancy, impending fatherhood — with a kind of devotion that you never expected, but that somehow doesn’t surprise you at all. He’s always been all in, whether it’s in the kitchen or in your relationship. It’s one of the things you love most about him — that relentless drive to be the best, to give his all, no matter what.

“You’re going to be a great dad,” you say softly, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Max pauses, his hand stilling on the spoon. For a moment, he just stands there, his back to you, and you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing, if maybe it’s too soon, too much. But then he turns, and the look on his face — full of vulnerability and determination — takes your breath away.

“I’m going to try,” he says, his voice low but steady. “I promise.”

You nod, unable to find the words to respond. Instead, you reach out, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it gently. He squeezes back, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture that’s so simple, so familiar, and yet it says everything you need to hear.

“Okay,” he says after a moment, clearing his throat and breaking the spell. “I’ve got something else for you.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “What is it?”

He smirks, pulling his hand away and turning back to the counter. “Just wait.”

You watch as he opens the fridge and pulls out a small tray, carefully covered with a cloth. He sets it on the counter and, with a dramatic flourish, pulls the cloth away to reveal ... a plate of beautifully arranged pastries, each one delicately shaped and glistening with a light dusting of powdered sugar.

“Vegan croissants,” he says, a note of pride in his voice. “Made from scratch.”

Your jaw drops, and you stare at the pastries in disbelief. “You made these?”

“Of course,” he replies, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I told you I’d figure it out.”

You’re speechless, the effort and care he’s put into this gesture rendering you momentarily stunned. You know how much work goes into making croissants, and the fact that he’s done it just to satisfy your cravings — it’s almost too much.

“Max,” you say, your voice thick with emotion, “you didn’t have to do this.”

He shrugs, though there’s a hint of bashfulness in his expression. “I wanted to.”

You reach out, picking up one of the croissants and holding it in your hands like it’s something precious. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I try,” he says with a smirk, watching as you take a tentative bite of the croissant.

The layers are perfectly flaky, the pastry light and buttery despite being vegan. It melts in your mouth, and you close your eyes, savoring the taste. “This is ... incredible,” you murmur, barely able to believe how good it is.

Max’s smirk softens into a genuine smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

You take another bite, unable to stop yourself from grinning. “I don’t just like it, Max. I love it.”

He chuckles, leaning against the counter with an air of satisfaction. “Good. But don’t go telling anyone, okay? You’re still the only person I’d cook vegan for.”

You laugh, a sound full of love and warmth. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

He winks, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Better be. I’ve got a reputation to uphold, you know.”

You shake your head, your heart full as you look at the man you married — the man who, despite all his bravado, has always made you feel like the most important person in his world. “You’re impossible,” you say fondly.

“And you love it,” he replies, his voice softening as he reaches out to gently cup your cheek.

“I really do,” you whisper, leaning into his touch.

Max leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. When he pulls back, there’s a softness in his eyes that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world.

“I love you,” he says, his voice steady and sure.

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice thick with emotion.

And as you sit there together, the scent of freshly baked croissants filling the air, you can’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Life might not always be easy, but with Max by your side — cooking for you, joking with you, loving you — you know you’ll always have a reason to smile, no matter what comes your way.

[omegaversereloaded]

Hello everyone,

I am writing to you today regarding my dear friend Ibrahim @wolf-aid, who is going through difficult circumstances due to his father’s cancer diagnosis. This situation has greatly affected his psychological and physical health, as he bears tremendous pressure in trying to care for his father and deal with the challenges that come with it. In addition, his father’s condition requires him to travel to receive appropriate treatment, which increases the financial burden on the family.

We, his friends and family, are seeking to support him in this ordeal by raising funds to cover the costs of his father’s treatment and the travel costs for his family. Any contribution, no matter how small, will make a huge difference in the life of Ibrahim and his family, and give them hope and strength to continue this difficult journey.

DONATION LINK HERE

I recently donated €20 to his campaign. Can you please match 50% of my donation and send him €10? Or even 5?

If you can help, whether by donating or by sharing this message with others, we would be very grateful. Thank you for your support and generosity.

If you can't donate directly to GFM please send your donation here and I'll do it for you!!

[steveslevis]

let’s make it cinematic!

azriel x OF!reader (modern au) - part 1 of ?

summary: azriel and his girl are looking for new ways to make ends meet when their friends suggest something that neither of them would’ve ever thought to try…something neither of them would’ve ever thought they’d enjoy so much.

warnings: drinking, smoking (weed-adjacent aka mirthroot), sex tapes/filming sexual acts, dom!azriel x sub!reader, smut!!! so much smut, fingering, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, rough sex, degradation AND praise kinks, (light) choking, dirty talk, shadow play, size kink (simply bc az is HUGE), creampie (wrap it up yall!!!), az is a protective dom & king of aftercare, mentions of exhibitionism and a foursome

word count: 7.5k

a/n: it's FINALLY here!!!! shoutout to @bookishbishhh for the amazing idea, sorry this took forever...i hope everyone enjoys part 1 of who knows how many <333

Thick smoke hangs in the air around the apartment, the sound of laughter likely carrying through the entire complex as Azriel, Cassian and Rhys sit on the couch, talking about nothing in particular. 

It’s a weekly ritual at this point for them to get together on a Friday night, just three so-called brothers laughing about senseless stories and reminiscing on their years spent together while passing mirthroot and sharing a bottle of whiskey. This week was no different from any other, aside from the distance in Azriel’s hazel eyes as the other two laugh about something Cassian did at a party the weekend before. 

Rhys nudges the quiet male, offering him the lit mirthroot between his fingers to grab his attention. Azriel grunts in response, taking it before placing it between his lips and inhaling sharply. 

“What’s on your mind, brother?” Rhys questions. 

Azriel is hesitant to share, squeezing his eyes shut as he holds the smoke in for a moment. He knows Rhys specifically won’t understand his situation, considering he’s never had to deal with financial hardship in his life. But he knows there’s never been judgment from either of them when discussing money, so he pushes his hesitancy down despite the hollow feeling in his chest.

“Things have just been tough lately,” he sighs, finally exhaling the smoke he was holding in before passing the mirthroot to Cassian. “We have no fucking money and I hate that Y/N has to work pretty much any time she’s not studying or in class. She’s stuck at that damn restaurant every night until fucking midnight and I hate seeing her so exhausted every night but it’s not like she can just quit right now.”

There’s a beat of silence in the room as both Cassian and Rhys nod in understanding, before Cassian exhales his smoke and suggests something Azriel would’ve never expected.

“Have you thought about OnlyFaes?” 

“Shut the fuck up Cass–”

“I’m not fucking around!” Cassian interjects, “I mean, don’t get all shitty and possessive on me, but your girlfriend is hot as fuck, and horny as fuck might I add. So why not get paid to fuck her? Me and Nes have had the best time doing it.”

It was no secret that Nesta had her own OnlyFaes and that Cassian was featured on it more times than not, he loves showing her off on their page and showing everyone how hot his girl that nobody else will ever have a chance to touch is.

“You can’t be serious,” Azriel nearly snarls, shaking his head sharply, “I am not gonna even ask her to do that. Y/N would never.”

Rhys chuckles while pouring himself some more whiskey, making Azriel snap his gaze in that direction, “What?” he insists, eyes narrowed on Rhys, “What’s so funny about that?”

“I think you don’t know your girlfriend if you think she wouldn’t be willing to try that,” Rhys says smoothly with a smirk, “Considering all the times you’ve had an audience–accidentally or not–I think she might be more than okay with doing it on camera, as long as you’re the one doing it.”

Azriel’s jaw twitches at his words, mind racing with thoughts of how good you look when he fucks you, how he can’t get enough of the noises you make when you cum, how well it would probably do in a video. There’s conflicting voices in his mind, one telling him to never share you and one telling him that the two of you could be so successful and never have to worry about how you were gonna pay rent again.

“I mean, don’t you think it’s worth a shot, Az?” Cassian questions. “I think she’d be into it.”

As Azriel opens his mouth to reply, the sound of a key sliding into the front door lock stops him in his tracks. His shadows skitter towards the door and swirl around the handle, excited to greet their favorite person.

The door opens a moment later, and you’re on the other side looking exhausted from a long day of class and work. You give your boyfriend a weak smile, mumbling a quick hello to the other two males in the room while closing the door and throwing your bag down. You look up from where you throw your bag down and halfway frown, cursing yourself silently for forgetting that it’s Friday and you wouldn’t be able to spend the rest of the night cuddling in bed with Az. 

“Long night?” Cassian is the first to break the silence, furrowing his brow as he takes in your disheveled appearance. You nod and he grimaces sympathetically, holding up the bottle in his hand as he does. “Want a shot?” 

Azriel elbows Cassian roughly, shooting a glare in his direction before standing up to walk over to you. His eyes fall on you and you nearly melt, leaning into his grasp as he reaches for your cheek. Azriel’s large wings raise behind him, as if he’s trying to shield you from the two males on the couch behind him as he and his shadows greet you.

“Ignore him, I think he’s had too much mirthroot tonight and is going crazy.” he mumbles, stroking his thumb across your cheek, “did you have a good shift?”

You sigh before shaking your head, rolling your eyes at the thought of the draining night you just had. Working in Prythian’s finest dining room came with its perks, mainly being the somewhat generous tips, but that didn’t mean that people weren’t assholes to you throughout every single shift, and tonight was no different. 

You had gotten stuck waitressing for a large party of businessmen, who all decided it would be a great idea to flirt with you all night and make crude comments under their breath in your direction any time you passed their seats. So no, you hadn’t had a good shift at all.  

“Don’t really wanna talk about it,” you retort tiredly, frowning up at Azriel while reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’m just gonna go to bed, I think. Don’t wanna bring down the fun.”

A frown crosses Azriel’s face for a moment but he nods, noting the darkness underneath your eyes as you stare up at him, “we’ll try not to be too loud and keep you up.”

The other males bid you goodnight from the couch as Azriel kisses your cheek gently. You give him a tired smile before trudging towards the bedroom. 

You shrug out of your black slacks and polo, changing into pajamas before curling up under the covers. It doesn’t take you more than five minutes to fall asleep, exhaustion raking over your whole body as soon as your head meets the pillow. 

________________________________________

The bed is empty and cold when you wake, making you frown at the absence of your favorite person. Before you can sulk too much, your phone buzzes from the bedside table. You turn over in the bed to grab for it, a small smile crossing your face as you read Azriel’s name on the screen. You look at the clock in the corner of the screen, realizing you slept in until 12:30 in the afternoon after utter exhaustion took you in the night before. There are three texts from the male, all over the last six hours. 

Azzy <3 - 6:15 am: Forgot to tell you that I was taking an extra shift at the shop this morning, I’ll be home around 1. Love you.

Azzy <3 - 8:52 am: Can’t wait to spend the rest of the day cuddling in bed…wish I could’ve been there to wake you up the proper way this morning ;)

Azzy <3 - 12:28 pm: Don’t even know if you’re awake yet, but I’ll be home in less than five minutes. Finished up the car I was working on early, see you soon, love. 

You smile to yourself as you read his semi-formal texts. He’s never been keen on texting since he’d rather just call you, but he’s gotten more chatty over text since the two of you barely get to see each other when you’re busy with work and school all the time. You start to type a message in reply, but he’s true to his word and you hear the front door unlocking only four minutes after he sent his last text. 

You wait patiently in the bed, sitting up as you watch the bedroom door intently. It only takes a few seconds for him to open the door quietly, eyes widening in half-shock when he sees that you’re actually awake. You smile over at him sleepily, noting how his oil-stained coveralls are draped over his arm and his hands are surprisingly clean, as if he cleaned himself up before coming home. 

“Well, good morning, sleeping beauty.” he teases, striding over to your side of the bed to give you a quick kiss. 

“Hi,” you mumble tiredly, reaching up to cup his cheek gently. “Did you have a good morning?” 

He hums in agreement, quickly tossing his work clothes into their designated laundry basket before slipping under the covers next to you. You slide as close to him as possible, wrapping your arms around his waist while burying your face in his neck. Azriel’s arms snake around your shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of your head. The two of you lay in comfortable silence, happy to sit in each other’s arms and enjoy the moment for a while. 

When you do finally pull away to look up at him, Azriel’s brow is furrowed and he’s staring at the opposite wall, deep in thought. You trail your hand along his chest to break him from his trance, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt to get his attention.

“What’s on your mind?” you question when he finally looks down at you. 

“Oh, just something Cass said last night,” he sighs, giving you a wry smile. You raise your brow at him, waiting for him to continue. “We were talking about how it’s been hard for us, with you being in school and working and with me having to pick up extra shifts at the shop. And–And he suggested a way for us to make more money. I was just thinking about it.”

“Well, what was it?” you urge. 

“He suggested that we try OnlyFaes.” he says bluntly, watching you intently to gauge your reaction. 

“O–Oh.” you say, a blush spreading across your cheeks as you mull over his words. 

“Yeah, I–I thought it was insane at first.” he begins, shadows slithering around his wings as he looks at you with nervous eyes. “But then I got to thinking about it. Would it really be so bad? I–I mean, we already fuck all the time, and you’re insatiable as is,” he says with a small smirk, “What’s the difference between doing it alone versus in front of a camera? It’ll just be us still.”

Your mind races as you think about his suggestion. In all honesty, it seems less and less insane the more you think about it. You’ve heard of people making so much money on OnlyFaes, so what’s the real harm in it? 

Before you can come up with a reply, Azriel takes your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks gently.

“I don’t want you to say yes right now. I don’t want to force you to do something you’re not interested in, love.” he says quietly, searching your gaze for any signs of offense. “It might not be for us, we don’t even have to attempt it if you don’t feel comfortable with it. It’s just something to think about, okay?”

Something roils in your gut as he peers down at you lovingly, a strange feeling of lust mixed with sin. 

“Yeah–Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

________________________________________

Laughter and playful banter fill the living room of Nesta and Cassian’s apartment as you sit on the velvet couch with Nesta. She insisted you come over on your night off for a girl’s night, one filled with gossip, talk about all of your favorite smutty books, and plenty of wine. The conversation flowed naturally, and you eventually brought up the conversation you had with Azriel a few nights prior, the one you hadn’t been able to shake for the last few days. 

“Can you believe that?” you giggle, swirling the red liquid in your glass, “Az actually suggested that I should start an OnlyFaes. Me, of all people! Like I would make any money.”

Nesta smirks at you, shaking her head at your feigned outrage while sipping her own wine. 

“I can believe it, actually.” she retorts, making you stop dead in your tracks. “I know you could make plenty of money. I make plenty on there and I’m sure you could make even more than I do, especially if you let Az fuck you–”

“Wait, wait–” you interject, brow furrowed as you sit up abruptly as she speaks. “You do OnlyFaes?”

“Of course I do, you didn’t know?” Nesta says casually, raising an eyebrow as you stare at her wide-eyed. “Me and Cass are so horny that we’re on each other almost all the time, might as well make some money while we’re going at it, you know?”

“Are you fucking with me right now, Nes?” you question, unable to read her facial expression as she watches with amusement as you obsess over this revelation.

“No, Y/N. I’m not fucking with you.” she laughs dryly. 

“And–And you actually make money by doing this?” you continue, still skeptical.

Nesta nods, reaching for her phone, “Would me showing you my profile and my last payment from the site make you stop asking so many questions?”

You’re silent as you nod in reply, waiting impatiently as she pulls up the page on her phone. Nesta hands her phone to you, a small chuckle escaping her lips again as you go wide-eyed as you scroll. There were dozens of videos on her profile, some with Cassian, some with just her, along with countless photos of her in positions you truly weren’t sure were possible before seeing them with your own eyes. 

“Oh, quit blushing like a schoolgirl,” Nesta’s voice makes you jump as she leans over to you, pressing a few buttons on her phone as you hold it, “it’s not like you and Azriel are vanilla saints in the bedroom who just stick to missionary. I’ve seen the two of you fuck before, remember?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble under your breath, blush deepening as you recall the time Cassian and Nesta walked in on Azriel fucking you ruthlessly into the couch of their old shared apartment and didn’t stop once he noticed them. 

“Uh huh, I’m sure you don’t,” she retorts, clicking one final button on her phone before letting go, revealing her last paycheck from the account, “Here’s the proof that I actually make some money.”

Some money was the understatement of the century if you were being honest. Last week alone Nesta had made $1200, and $1400 the week before, and some weeks she made up to $2000. The thought of making that much money in a month, let alone one week, was something you never thought you’d be able to do. 

“I really think you should go for it,” Nesta urges genuinely as she watches you stare in wonder at her paychecks, “I think you’ll enjoy this a hell of a lot more than your shitty ass waitressing job.”

“Yeah–Yeah, I probably would,” you say sheepishly, handing the phone back to her as your mind races with the possibilities. “I’ll think about it.”

________________________________________

Perched on top of the kitchen counter, you admire the shirtless male in front of you as he finishes preparing a simple dinner for the two of you. It’s not uncommon for Azriel to make dinner, as you’re usually too tired to think about making anything by the time you get home from work. He plates the pasta with tomato sauce, adding some cheese on top before pouring two glasses of your favorite–but cheap–red wine. 

Azriel tending to you–in any manner–is truly your favorite sight, the way he makes sure you’re always happy and cared for always makes your heart sing, and your core ache. 

You take in every inch of him as he focuses on the glasses in front of him, eyes trailing from his half-wet hair from taking a shower a few minutes ago, down to his bare chest, over his tattooed shoulders to his muscular back and the wings–gods, those wings–between his shoulder blades. The bat-like wings behind him always make you damn near feral, loving the way they flare and twitch when you touch them, the way they make the already large Illyrian male seem even larger and more intimidating than he already is. 

“Dinner, my love.” he says, finally breaking you from your trance as he turns to face you. Your cheeks are flushed red when he turns to you and he smirks, knowing he just caught you staring. 

Before he can make any playful jabs at you for gawking, you let what’s been on your chest for the last day finally come out. 

“I wanna do it.” you start, looking at him with fire and lust in your gaze. 

“I mean, you always wanna do it–” he teases casually as he slides the plates onto the small table in between the kitchen and living room, “but can’t that wait? You need to eat, sweetheart.”

“No, no.” you shake your head at him, brow furrowing in frustration as you’re unsure how to word your next sentence. But fuck it, you’re just gonna say it, “I wanna try OnlyFaes.” 

“Oh,” he says and you swear his voice drops an octave when he speaks, “you wanna do that, huh?”

He moves in one quick stride to stand between your spread thighs, trapping you on the countertop by bracketing his large hands on either side of you. You peer up at him with wide eyes, nodding wordlessly as his shadows flicker around the two of you. 

“Are you sure?” he questions, his hazel eyes going dark as his mind races to impossibly inappropriate places. 

“Yes,” you say confidently, reaching one hand up to tug through his dark hair, “I want you to fuck me on camera, Az. Wanna show the world how good I can be for you, Sir.” 

The tension in the air is palpable as you draw out that last word, looking up at him with lust-filled eyes as he towers over you.

“I told you not to call me that unless you can handle finishing what you’re starting,” he nearly growls, hands coming up to grip your hips tightly, “and right now, you need to eat, not start this teasing shit.”

You hum in response, a glint of mischief in your eyes as your hand trails from his hair and down to the back of his neck, pulling him down and into a passionate kiss. He groans against your mouth, pressing your body against his by tugging your ass to the edge of the counter and making you wrap your legs around his waist. 

“What if I’m not hungry and I wanna finish what I’m starting?” you tease, angling your hips up to meet his, only the thin fabric of your underwear and his sweatpants between you two, as you’re only wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of underwear.

Azriel doesn’t have time to make any remarks before you pull him back in for another searing kiss. He keeps his lips on yours as one hand finds its way between your thighs, making you whine against his lips as his fingers hover over your core. Your hips buck into his hand as his index finger swirls over your clothed clit, making him groan as you nearly melt under his touch. 

“Gods, thinking about me fucking you in front of a camera turns you on this much?” he teases, kissing down the side of your neck as you nod enthusiastically at him. He only chuckles and pushes the cloth of your panties to the side, slipping a thick finger into you without warning. “Such a good little whore for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes, Az.” you nearly plead, continuing to nod as he pumps the finger in and out a few more times before adding another. “I’m your little slut, wanna show everyone how good you make me feel.”

He hums in approval as you grind against his fingers, which drive into you quickly as you grip onto his shoulders to keep balance on the counter. His shadows travel beneath his shirt that you’re wearing, teasing your nipples as he focuses on your dripping cunt and swollen clit. You’re almost completely lost in the pleasure, that familiar knot forming in your stomach at a rapid pace while you whimper against his neck. 

Just as you’re about to reach that sweet release, all stimulation from the male and his shadows stops, his hands back against the counter as he leans in to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek. You stare at him with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing as if you’re a fish out of water as you look at him in disbelief. 

“You need to eat and you’re not cumming until you do.” he says in a warning tone against your cheek before pulling away completely, motioning for you to follow him to the dining table after he smooths down your shirt and places your underwear back over your core. 

“Az,” you plead, trudging along behind the male towards the table, “what if I told you that I ate a little bit, like, two hours ago?” 

The male turns to look at you with narrowed eyes as he sits at the table, he definitely doesn’t believe a word you’re saying. 

“Some asshole asked for a salad and then sent it back at least five times because none of them were right, so Omar let me have one of the remakes because of all the trouble the ass put me through,” you explain, ignoring the chair Azriel pulled out for you to sit in, opting to shift onto your knees in front of the male, “I’m not even hungry.”

That was a lie, you were hungry, but only for him. 

He stares down at you, his face showing only cool composure as you crawl a bit closer to him on your knees, hands coming up to rest on his thighs as you sit between them. There’s a noticeable tent in his sweats in front of you, which you eye hungrily as one hand comes up to palm it through the thin fabric. You hesitate for a moment as he looks down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes, but continue when he doesn’t stop you. 

It only takes one tug on the waistband of his sweats to free his large cock, letting it spring back in front of your face before grabbing the length. You’ll honestly never get used to how big it is, how your hand barely reaches around the entire girth when you stroke it, how it fills you up to the brim every time it’s in your mouth or in your cunt. 

You stare up at him as he leans back in the chair, trying to keep his composure as you reach to kitten-lick and kiss the red, angry tip of his cock before attempting to take it into your mouth. He grunts as the tip hits the back of your warm throat, your tongue sliding over the underside as you fist the rest of his length that you can’t fit into your mouth. He looks down at you then, noticing the way your free hand snakes between your thighs and you rut your hips against your palm, desperately trying anything to cure the ache that he left between your thighs. 

It’s then that he decides he’s not hungry–for anything except for you–anymore.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Azriel whimpers finally, tugging at your hair to pull you off his length. You look up to him with a furrowed brow, glassy eyes and a frown, disappointed in his denial. “You’re such a little needy cockslut, aren’t you?”

Before you can reply, you’re tugged from the ground and thrown over the male’s shoulder, making you squeal in surprise. He pushes the chair out of his way before turning on his heels to walk towards your shared bedroom.

“C’mon, love.” he murmurs as he kisses the outside of your upper thigh that’s nearest to his head, “let’s go practice for the camera.”

________________________________________

In all honesty, you never thought the two of you would actually follow through with this, but here you are, kneeling on your bed in the apartment you share with Azriel, wearing a new white silk slip over a matching lace thong while he sets up the camera facing where you’re sitting on the bed. 

“Are you sure about this?” Azriel asks for probably the fifth time in the last ten minutes, searching your gaze for any signs of doubt before he turns the camera on.

“Az, I’m fine.” you assure him once more, pushing your nerves down as you stare at your beautiful boyfriend from across the room. “Now let’s get this shit started before I’m not horny anymore.”

He raises a brow at you and chuckles, toying with the buttons on the camera you borrowed from Nesta once more.

“Ready?”

You nod, watching Azriel closely as he clicks the button to turn the video on. 

“Sit up straight and look pretty for me, sweetheart.” he says while taking a step towards the bed, “wanna see how beautiful you look before you get all fucked out on my cock, even though I love how cute you look then, too.”

You’re amazed at how quickly he switches into his usual sultry and serious tone, you immediately obey his command by straightening out your back, peering up at him through your lashes. You’re glad he’s acting like he normally does in the bedroom and is trying to make it seem as though it’s just the two of you as much as possible, like he’d promised the night before. 

He takes another swift step and he’s at the foot of the bed, thigh brushing against your knee as he presses against the mattress. Your eyes rove over his body, taking in his bare, sculpted chest littered with swirling tattoos, his wings flared behind his shoulders, the silver chain adorning his neck, his black boxers hiding his best assets, all making your heart–and core–flutter. He reaches for your chin, gripping it lightly to force your gaze to meet his lust-filled eyes. He smirks down at you, taking in every inch of you.

“Hi love,” he nearly purrs, one hand falling to the strap of your slip, toying with the silk between his thumb and pointer finger, “I like this little outfit, is this all for me?”

“All for you, Sir.” you respond sweetly, fighting the urge to reach up and pull his lips down to yours by pressing your palms firmly against your bare thighs.

“Such a sweet girl,” he coos, fingers trailing through your hair towards the nape of your neck, tugging at the locks to make you whine. “You’ve been such a good girl for me, sitting pretty while you wait for me to set up. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Your eyes light up at his words, nodding quickly as he chuckles at your enthusiasm. At this point, you’ve almost forgotten about the camera pointing at you, your brain nearly turned to mush just because of Azriel’s sweet yet domineering demeanor, just like you always do when he takes control.

“What kind of reward do you want tonight, love?” he says, watching you fidget excitedly under his touch.

“Wanna cum for you, Sir.” you say shyly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks as you stare up at him, “Wanna cum on your fingers, a–and your cock.”

“So greedy,” he teases, one hand roaming toward the swell of your breasts, “But since you’ve been such a patient girl for me, I think I can make that work.”

You nod excitedly in response, grinning as Azriel leans down to pull your lips into a swift kiss. He pulls away as quickly as he pulled you in, moving to sit behind you on the bed instead of standing in front of you. He situates you between his spread legs, adjusting to where you’re leaning against his chest with your knees bent and your thighs spread, putting you on full display.

He makes quick work of exploring your body, one hand kneading your right breast while the other pushes the hem of your slip up. You crane your neck to look up at him, a pout forming on your lips to silently beg for a kiss. Azriel obliges, releasing your breast to grip your neck, squeezing slightly as he pulls you in for a kiss. 

His other hand continues to roam along your spread thighs, massaging the soft skin with touches teasingly close to your core. You whine into the kiss, canting your hips against his hand to gain more friction as he teases you. His fingers brush against your clit once before pulling the lace thong down your legs to throw it on the ground, exposing your glistening core to him and the camera. 

“Gods, you’re so wet.” he mutters against your cheek, one finger sliding into your heat with ease as you whine. “That’s it, such a good girl.”

Your head falls against his shoulder as you bite back a moan and snap your eyes shut, grinding your hips against his hand as he slowly pumps the digit in and out. His hand squeezes your throat then, a low disapproving growl falling from his lips making your eyes fly open to look up at him.

“Eyes on me, baby.” he warns, thumb reaching up to circle your clit as he adds a second finger, your mouth falling open in a silent whine as he does. “And don’t bite back those moans, I wanna hear you.”

You nod up at him with wide, glassy eyes as his fingers increase in speed, making a crude noise as they drive into your dripping cunt. Azriel groans above you, cock hardening against your back as you squirm and moan. His fingers are unforgiving, allowing you no time to adjust as he brings you closer and closer to your peak. He looks away from you for only a moment, taking the chance to look at the two of you in the viewfinder next to the camera. The screen shows you sprawled out in front of him, staring up at him with glassy eyes as his shadows swirl around your waist and arms to keep you firmly against him. You look so fucked out already, desperate for more as his fingers pound into you. 

“Look at you,” he chuckles, turning back to actually look down at you, eyes trailing along your form. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, a moan falling from your lips as you grip his large thigh, squeezing it firmly to keep yourself in place. 

“Already so fucked out that you can’t even speak, huh?” he teases while tightening his grip on your throat to elicit a squeak of pleasure from your lips. “I haven’t even given you my cock yet, and you’re already a dumb little cockslut?”

“Y–Yes, yes, yes” you whimper, the words nearly a chant on your lips as you feel that familiar warmth winding up at your core. “I’m your dumb little cockslut, Sir. Just–Just wanna be your good girl and–and cum for you.”

It always amazes Azriel how easily you fall under a spell when he touches you, how easily you trust him with your pleasure like this. He smirks down at you, but can’t hide the adoration shining in his eyes as kisses your cheek gently, a stark contrast to his rough fingers in your heat and his skittering shadows holding you in place.

“So good for me, sweetheart.” he mumbles against your skin, nodding at you. “Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.”

His words are your undoing, making you fall apart almost instantly. Your body shakes as you cum, and you feel nothing but white hot pleasure as he continues his assault on your core. You can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears as you tighten around his fingers, but you know Azriel is murmuring words of praise in your ear as he watches you writhe under his touch. He doesn’t relent when you come down from your high, fingers still pumping into you while his thumb circles your clit as you attempt to squirm away from him, but fail as his hand on your throat along with his shadows hold you in place. 

“P–Please, I–I can’t.” you cry out, eyes wide as you plead with the male and twist in his arms. “I–I wanna cum on your cock now, n–not your fingers, Sir. Please.”

Azriel smirks as you beg, but finally slows his fingers to a halt and releases your throat. 

“Since you were so good for me, I guess I can give you what you want.” he teases, repositioning you to sit in the middle of the bed once more, kneeling behind you this time. He kisses your shoulder as he tugs his boxers off, pulling at the silk strap of your slip. “Why don’t you take this off for me, sweet girl.” 

You nod mindlessly as your eyes wander towards the viewfinder, remembering that you’re not exactly alone in this scenario. A deep blush spreads across your cheek as you pull the slip over your head, catching a glimpse of your bare body on the screen. 

“So sexy,” you hear Azriel rasp out behind you, bringing you back to reality as he reaches for your hips, pushing your knees apart as he kneels between yours and presses your ass against his painfully hard cock. “You want my cock now, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please.” you plead, craning your neck to look back at him again. 

He hums in approval as he kisses up your neck, stopping at your ear. His breath fans against your skin as his teeth graze your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine as you wait for his instruction.

“Go ahead and bend over for me,” he orders, watching you with lust-filled eyes as you bend at the waist, pressing your chest to the bed with your ass still pressed against his cock. 

Azriel’s shadows flick out then, tugging your hands to bind them behind your back, leaving you defenseless against the male behind you. He lets out a low groan as he takes you in, one hand kneading the fat of your ass as the other fists his length, teasing it between your folds slowly. You whine in response, craning your neck to look up at him with wide, needy eyes. The sight behind you is enough to make you fold immediately, enough to make you bend at any whim that he has. He’s staring at his cock with heavy-lidded eyes, arm and chest muscles flexed as he holds back the urge to slam into you right then. His wings droop slightly, but you can’t help but notice the way they twitch as his hips roll against yours. A moment later, he looks forward to meet your gaze, silently searching your eyes for any signs of hesitation, but finding none. 

“You gonna be a good girl and take what I give you?” he questions, raising a brow at you as your hips rock back against his once, twice.

“Yes, Sir.” you reply quickly, eager to see how he wants you. 

“Good girl.” he nearly purrs, voice low as he finally slams into you, cock filling you to the brim as you let out a small moan. “Fuck, always so tight.”

Azriel’s vice grip on your hips is the only thing holding you up as he fills you to the hilt, tip rubbing against your cervix with brutal force when he bottoms out. You can only cry out and take what he gives you as he picks up speed, just like he wanted. He smirks down at you, mind spinning as he takes you in; takes in how your ass bounces against his hips with each thrust, how your bound fists squeeze tightly behind your back, how your eyes brim with tears as you cry out in pleasure as he pounds into you.

“Gods, it feels like your cunt was made for my cock,” he remarks, squeezing his eyes shut to push off a premature orgasm. “You love when I fuck you like this, don’t you? You love being at my mercy and going dumb on my dick, don’t you?” 

“Yes, yes, I–I love it!” you nearly yell followed by a string of moans falling from your lips as a rogue shadow snakes around to toy with your clit. “F–Fuck, you’re so big, s–so full.”

“I know, sweetheart. You’re taking it so well, though.” he praises, continuing his punishing pace. “I know you can give me another orgasm, wanna see you fall apart on my cock.”

“I–I’m already close, Sir.” you admit, blushing as you peer back at him. “N–Need to cum, please.”

“That’s okay, baby.” he says gently, slamming his hips into you again as he slaps your ass lightly once. “You can do it, you can cum for me, baby.” he urges while his shadows press into your clit even more, “Cum on my cock, make a mess on my cock and I’ll reward you with my cum.”

The thought of him cumming in you spurs you on more than it should and before you know it, you’re cumming on his length, walls spasming around him feverishly as you cry out. Azriel curses under his breath as you do, only moments before he reaches his own climax, release coating your heat as his hips falter. 

You swear you almost black out as you come down from your high, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations flooding your body as Azriel slows behind you. Once he stills, you relax, a small whimper falling from your lips as his shadows retreat from your body and your hands fall to your side once more as the rest of your body relaxes. You don’t know how long the two of you stay there, and barely notice Azriel pulling out of you and sliding off the bed, quickly moving to turn the camera off before returning to your side. He sits down next to you, peering down at you lovingly as you blink at him slowly. 

“Hi, love.” he says gently, reaching over to push your hair out of your face.

“Hi, Az.” you reply tiredly, rolling over onto your side once you’ve caught your breath.

“You did so good for me, baby.” he coos before turning to the bedside table to grab the glass of water and washcloth he’d set out before you began earlier. “Take a drink for me.” 

You sit up slowly, taking the glass to take a long sip as Azriel runs the washcloth over you legs and core, cleaning the slick from your thighs. Your heart flutters as he takes care of you, falling more and more in love with the male with every second he spends focused on you. He looks up as you finish off the glass of water, taking it from your hand before kissing your forehead lovingly. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks, genuine concern shining in his eyes, trying to decide if he missed any signs of your discomfort during the scene. 

“I’m great, Az.” you say with a veritable smile, cupping his cheek to pull him in for a quick kiss. “That was amazing, you’re amazing.”

You swear you see a blush pass across his cheeks at your compliment, a smile gracing his lips as he nods at you. “How about you get changed into something comfortable while I order us some Thai takeout, yeah? We can eat on the couch and watch your favorite movie, and I’ll even give you a massage if you want.” he suggests, leaning down to kiss you again. 

Your eyes light up at his suggestion, giggling happily at him, “You always spoil me,” you reply against his lips. 

“Only because you always deserve it.”

________________________________________

It took you a few days to get the courage to finally post the video to your page, but you finally did. Nesta convinced you that she would help you edit the video. She even went as far as offering to ‘shout you out’ on her page, which entailed you posing with her in a pair of skimpy lingerie to post on her feed. Azriel wasn’t happy about that at first, but didn’t try to stop you from doing it, knowing it would only boost your page and get more engagement for your video thanks to Nesta’s established following. 

You posted the video three days ago and essentially avoided opening the OnlyFaes app after that, scared to see the results of your scandalous endeavor. 

So, when you returned from your evening class, you didn’t expect to find Nesta and Cassian lounging on your couch with Azriel, seemingly celebrating something with a bottle of champagne. 

“There she is!” Cassian cheers when you walk in, grinning widely at you while reaching for a glass of champagne to hand to you. 

“What’s this for?” you question, hesitantly taking the glass as you take the seat on the couch next to Azriel, who leans over to press a kiss to your forehead in greeting.

“We’re celebrating,” Azriel murmurs against your skin, a half-amused smirk on his lips as he looks down at you when you furrow your brow, “Celebrating our success. The champagne was entirely Cassian’s idea.”

“Your video was a hit,” Cassian laughs, wiggling his eyebrows at you mischievously. “We just wanted to come say congrats.”

“Oh, it was?” you say, eyes widening as you reach for your phone quickly. 

“It seems everyone loved both you and Azriel.” Nesta interjects, watching you with a smirk as you navigate to your OnlyFaes app. 

You quickly open the app, noticing how the Notifications tab has a red bubble above it that says 99+ before clicking on your profile. Last time you checked, you only had one subscriber–Nesta’s account–and now you have over two thousand. You scroll down to the video, clicking on the thumbnail. The sight of 302,000 views makes your eyes widen once more, wondering how you missed all of the notifications from the apparently semi-viral video. Before exiting out of the video, the amount of comments catch your eye, urging you to scroll to see them.

faebae12: GODS he’s soooooo hot…and the way he looks at her!!! I need a male like this in my life.

daycourtbabygirl: his mouth is so fucking dirty and she’s SO sexy i need more of them ASAP

biggestwingspan9: came so fast. need someone to go dumb on my cock like this 

subslut1000: what i would give to be between them…so fucking good

sizequeen75: ohhhh my gods his cock is so big i need to be tied down with shadows and fucked like that

The sound of laughter finally pulls you from your trance as you sort through the endless comments talking about how much they love the two of you, you finally look up to see Nesta and Cassian staring at you expectantly. 

“I–I really didn’t expect this to happen.” you say sheepishly, blushing deeply as they continue to stare you down. 

“You need to have more faith in yourself,” Nesta chides, raising a brow at you, “This is just the beginning, and you’re already doing so well. You were so hot.”

“You–You actually watched it?” you stammer.

“Of course I did,” she chuckles, and Cassian nods next to her while elbowing Azriel encouragingly. “I think you look like a great time, and who knows, maybe we could collaborate someday when you’re more comfortable. I would love to do some more dom work alongside these two,”

Cassian smirks at Nesta in agreement and you expect Azriel to tense beside you, but he doesn’t. You look to him then, and he smirks down at you as well before kissing your cheek. 

“What do you think, love?” Azriel says, raising a brow at you, “Should we keep doing this and see where it takes us?” 

Your mind races as you take in the whole situation, letting the fact that you were actually successful with this escapade finally settle in. A smile crosses your face then, core heating at the thought of continuing to let Azriel fuck you on camera. It sounds insane, but you truly don’t care anymore, especially since you both enjoyed it so fucking much.

“Yeah.” you say with a wide grin, “Yeah, I think we should keep going.”

tag list (add yourself here!): @dreamloud4610 @angelbunny222 @bookishbishhh @fanficscuziranout @buckingforbuckybarnes @thefandomplace @feyretopia @mad-hatters-lover @kissesfromnovalie @mulledwinetea @saltedcoffeescotch @mrsjna @chillymountsjess @azriels-human @messageforthesmallestman @delphinefour04 @kbear8863 @secretsicanthideanymore @randomgurl2326 @shushsstuff @caitm1 @eeniemeenie

[szhmidty]

The California insurance thing is adding on to my established belief that insurance is inherently a bad mitigation for any risk that affects large swaths of the population who will very likely need it at some point.

The point of insurance is for the collective to pay an affordable regular fee, and the few who are affected by a given risk are compensated. Ideally, the EV of insurance would be 0, but in practice the EV is negative, but since we are broadly risk averse* we want it anyway.

But that only works if the fee is affordable and the risk is low. Fire insurance in California was a bad idea because everyone was at a major risk, the full cost of premiums would have been immense. California made it worse by making it illegal to charge for the real cost, but even if they hadn't, the premiums would have simply ballooned and many people would have been priced out of insuring their homes, and would still be in this situation.

Similar thing happens with healthcare. Everyone wants their insurance to cover everything, including very common, every day medications for long term medical problems. Needing my ADHD medication isn't a risk, it's not at the tail end of the probability distribution. My insurance shouldn't cover it, because covering it means that the company has to raise everyone's premiums, and raising the premiums prices people (myself included) out of being able to afford insurance for actual tail risks that could ruin their lives.

"But I need my ADHD medication to live a good life, it would ruin me to not get it" yeah, I hear you, same here, but insurance is just a bad system for dealing with that. It just isn't a risk, it doesn't fit well with the "small affordable fee to avoid unlikely disaster" model. If insurance pays for everyone's lifetime medications, then it has to raise premiums by the average of the cost of everyone's lifetime medications, and everyone breaks even, except now insurance is just more expensive and some people are priced out.

I think anytime insurance starts to sail out of the price range of the target demographic, it's a sign that something is deeply wrong and some intervention, likely government intervention, is needed. If people can't afford the fire insurance, it's because the fire risk is way too high and your forest management strategy should be overhauled. If people are struggling to pay their health care insurance, their insurance probably covers way too much because too much of every day health care is also out of reach of people.

Insurance companies aren't the good guys, you have an adversarial relationship with them. They will try to screw you over and lie to you and scam you and all the rest. But you can't get blood from stone, and you can't get a policy of "pay me money if my home built on top of kindling burns down" without paying for it somewhere, and instead of getting mad at the insurance company you should probably start asking why your home is built on kindling.

*Or, well, more complicatedly the full cost of some disasters is much worse than than strict accounting cost. Losing your home is far more destructive than losing the market price of the home's value, because it means spending weeks to months homeless and opening you up to other risks.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

photographer!gojo was undeniably the best in the industry—a fact known to everyone. if you were lucky enough to be photographed by him, you’d instantly become the most talked-about person worldwide. with just a camera, he had the ability to make anyone look flawless and utterly desirable. satoru gojo was, without a doubt, a man who understood aesthetics.

but no matter how playful, laid-back, and flirtatious people in his orbit knew him to be, the moment he encountered someone who didn’t know how to pose or thought they weren’t photogenic, he became the exact opposite of what his reputation suggested.

like his attitude toward you right now.

as a new model who had already caught the attention of fashion houses, magazines, and influential figures in fahion industry, you’d heard countless praises about your talent. yet, the cocky white-haired man staring at the large computer screen of photos he’d just taken didn’t seem to share that sentiment.

what the fuck was wrong now?

since arriving at the penthouse where the shoot was being held, you’d been excited. while you’d posed nude before, becoming the face of a famous lingerie brand was a much bigger deal. Plus, everyone involved, from the hair and makeup team to the stylists, consisted of the best professionals in the field. and, of course, satoru gojo himself.

naturally, throughout your modeling career, you’d encountered plenty of snobbish, cold people. that was just how the fashion world worked; everyone hated everyone else and thought they were better. but no one had ever looked at you with such a frosty expression from the moment he met you and said, “thank god they’re paying me well, or i’d never waste my time shooting someone with no spark.”

even though his words had deflated your mood, you’d plastered on a smile and acted professionally. causing a scene could cost you everything. as a rising name in the industry, you couldn’t risk your career—especially since anything satoru gojo said about you would be taken seriously by everyone.

judging by the current situation, it looked like he was determined to ruin you regardless.

it had been an hour and a half since the shoot began, and you were still wearing the same red lingerie set. you’d posed a million different ways on a couch with a panoramic view of tokyo, yet gojo’s face remained a picture of disdain. though, you’d caught how his gaze had lingered on your body the moment you first stepped out in the set.

it was like he wanted a piece of you.

there were rumors about him, of course. stories of him fucking with models during shoots, recording the encounters, and making the rounds in the fashion world. and it wasn’t just models—oscar-winning actors, chart-topping musicians… everyone wanted a piece of satoru gojo.

“hey, want me to touch up your blush?” the makeup artist approached, pulling you out of your anxious thoughts. you nodded, smiling as she quickly reapplied the color to your cheeks. noticing your troubled expression, she reassured you that she’d worked with gojo many times before and that he was only acting this way because of stress.

when she finished, your eyes drifted back to the man standing by the large computer screen, scrutinizing the photos. he was discussing options with his assistant, but it was as if he could feel your gaze on him. his icy blue eyes left the screen and landed on you—still sitting on the couch in nothing but a red bra and thong.

your cheeks burned under his intense stare. the disgust you’d been expecting wasn’t there. instead, he looked at you the same way he had when you first walked in wearing the lingerie set, his expression downright ravenous.

while still looking at you, he said something to his assistant, grabbed the camera he’d placed on the table, and clapped his hands loudly.

“alright, everybody! break’s over. back to work.”

he positioned himself slightly in front of you but kept some distance. leaning down slightly, he said, “grab the back of the couch with your arms and look at the camera. not with empty eyes—look like you’re begging whoever’s behind the lens to fuck you right now. got it?”

was he supposed to be the one behind the lens in this scenario?

your body hummed with nervous excitement as you nodded. following his instructions, you wrapped your hands around the back of the couch. one foot rested on the ground while the other was propped on the cushion. your gaze fixed on the camera, eyes brimming with desire, imagining how you’d look at someone you desperately wanted to fuck you.

with each flash of the camera, you shifted the angle of your head but kept your expression the same. for the first time, gojo shot multiple frames without cursing or saying, “this is awful.”

as you added a personal touch to the pose, sliding one hand from the back of the couch to the strap of your bra, a sharp, irritated voice stopped you.

“did i tell you to touch the strap?”

you immediately withdrew your hand, frustration bubbling over. no one deserved to be treated like this.

“excuse me?” your questioning tone cut through the silence of the set, making everyone freeze.

“what did you just say?” gojo stood to his full height, his expression unreadable.

“i said excuse me. why are you being so rude and unreasonable? posing is my job, not yours.”

a tense silence filled the luxurious penthouse. everyone’s eyes darted between you and gojo, convinced this was the end of your career.

it didn’t matter to you in that moment. being new to the industry didn’t mean you deserved to be humiliated.

gojo’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening as he stared at you. his voice boomed across the set, “everyone out. don’t come back until i call you.”

no one moved, paralyzed by the anger radiating off him.

“did i fucking stutter? get out!” his voice grew louder, sending everyone scurrying out of the penthouse. the door slammed shut behind the last person, leaving you alone with him.

the tension was suffocating. you hadn’t fully processed what you’d said—your frustration had taken over. there were still photos to be taken in the bedroom and kitchen, yet here you were, stuck on this damn couch.

gojo stepped closer, his imposing presence making you shrink slightly. his sharp gaze locked onto yours as he demanded, “do you even know who i am?”

“y-yes.”

“then how the fuck do you think you have the right to question me?”

“i just—”

“just what?” he tossed his expensive camera onto the couch beside you and leaned down, gripping the back of the couch on either side of you. his piercing blue eyes bore into yours as he spoke, voice low and dangerous.

“i’ve worked in this industry for 15 years. even the highest-paid supermodels wouldn’t dare talk back to me. as a photographer, i decide how you’ll look. you’ll move the way i want, wear what i want.” his gaze dropped to your cleavage, accentuated by the red lace of your bra. one of his hands drifted to the delicate fabric, his fingers brushing over the lace. “you’re new, so maybe you’re eager to ruin your career. one word from me could make you the most talked-about name in the industry—or its biggest failure.” his fingers grazed your nipple through the fabric, drawing an involuntary gasp from your lips.

so, he did want to touch you.

“you think i’m untalented, and that bothers me,” you said boldly, letting your thoughts spill out.

for the first time today, a genuine smile crossed gojo’s face. he seemed to enjoy the fact that you sought his approval. “prove it.”

“prove what?” goosebumps rose on your skin as his fingers trailed to the exposed flesh of your chest.

“prove to me that you’re talented. show me you deserve to be the woman i photograph.” his hands continued their teasing exploration, both over the fabric and the bare skin beneath.

you didn’t need to prove yourself to anyone. countless industry professionals had already told you that you belonged in front of the camera. but there was something about this arrogant, white-haired man with those mesmerizing blue eyes that made you want to rise to the challenge—not because you doubted yourself, but because you wanted to see the look on his face when you proved him wrong.

“do you enjoy taking nude photos?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

he chuckled darkly. “i take the best ones, baby.”

“perfect, then.” you shoved his body away slightly and walked to the large windows overlooking tokyo. pressing your back and left leg against the glass, you said, “go ahead. start shooting.”

intrigued, gojo grabbed his camera and positioned himself at a distance.

you gave him exactly what he wanted. each pose radiated the desire and submission he’d demanded, as though you were begging to be taken against that glass. the shutter clicked rapidly, capturing every movement.

despite some shots blurring with the motion, gojo didn’t tell you to stop. not once.

your poses grew increasingly erotic, as seductive as you could possibly make them. after all, this was a lingerie brand. anyone who bought a lacy set like this would probably strut around their house wearing it, striking sexy poses just for fun.

your hands moved to the clasp of your bra, and with a sly grin, you unhooked it. gojo’s finger froze on the shutter button. he lifted his head from behind the camera, his hungry eyes fixed on you as if silently begging you to take the damn thing off already.

“don’t you want me to keep going?” you teased, hesitating before sliding the straps off your shoulders.

“don’t you dare stop!” his tone was husky, almost growling.

you tossed your bra aside, exposing your breasts. your fingers found your nipples, teasing and pinching them until waves of throbbing heat pulsed through your core. tilting your head back, you let out a moan.

“keep going, baby. you’re perfect,” gojo encouraged as his camera flashed relentlessly. you continued to torment your sensitive nipples, wishing more than anything that he would drop everything, pin you against the glass, and fuck you right here with all of tokyo watching.

your hands trailed to the edges of your red lacy thong, playing with the fabric while keeping your eyes locked on the camera, filled with lust and desperation. gojo’s voice rarely interrupted, only breaking the silence to mutter short curses or to comment when he found a particularly good angle.

you liked it. you wanted to prove to him just how much you craved him.

you pulled away from the glass you had been leaning against, lowering yourself to the floor. slowly and deliberately, you began crawling toward gojo with a sly intent. your movements were never rushed, maintaining the same unhurried pace until you reached him.

“fuck, take it off, baby. let me see that sweet pussy,” he muttered, his voice thick with need as he kept snapping photos. every glance you threw his way, full of desperate longing, seemed to make his finger press the shutter even faster.

“of course,” you murmured, now on all fours with your ass arched high in the air. slowly, you laid flat on the cold floor, your legs spread wide, and gojo immediately moved between them, positioning himself for the perfect shot.

his voice came again, commanding yet low, “play with your nipples again. like it’s my fingers teasing them, like i’m the one taking care of you.”

you obeyed, your hands returning to your needy, sensitive nipples. your head fell back, and you closed your eyes, moaning loudly as you followed his instructions.

gojo’s camera clicked incessantly. his own arousal was evident as he captured every moment. “you want my fingers, don’t you? maybe even my mouth. you’d love for me to use my tongue, wouldn’t you, baby?”

his filthy words made you moan even more “yes.”

“now take off your panties, baby. let me see that wet, swollen pussy.”

god, he was good at giving orders.

your hands finally slid to the waistband of your thong. you pulled the delicate fabric down slowly, making sure to maintain eye contact with the lens. every second, every movement was for him—and for his camera.

raising your legs into the air, you peeled the thong off completely, letting it dangle from your ankles before biting your lip and releasing a soft moan.

“stop teasing and get rid of it already,” gojo growled impatiently.

you chuckled softly, finally sliding the thong off and tossing it in his direction. to your surprise, he caught it effortlessly. while one hand remained steady on the camera, the other brought the lacy fabric to his face. he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of your arousal.

“so sweet,” he murmured under his breath. he knelt down further between your legs, angling himself perfectly to capture the view of your dripping folds.

wasting no time, you spread your lips, showing him just how wet you were.

gojo adjusted the camera slightly, letting out a sharp curse. “touch yourself. show me how badly you want to prove yourself.”

“please, just touch me…” you begged, unable to hold back any longer. his touch was the only thing you craved.

“you can count on me ruining you the next time we meet,” he said darkly. “but for now, touch yourself and let me capture every second of that needy pussy throbbing.”

and so you did. your fingers glided over your slick walls, circling your clit before plunging inside. as you moved, all you could think about was how it would feel to have the world’s most famous photographer doing this to you instead. gojo didn’t miss a single moment. you had no idea how his camera hadn’t run out of storage, but he kept shooting until you reached your climax.

that day, you went on to complete the planned shoots in the kitchen and bedroom, wearing the other lingerie sets required. you posed exactly as gojo instructed, and not once did you hear a single word of disapproval.

when the shoot ended, the two of you were still alone in the luxurious penthouse. “good job, new girl,” gojo said, pulling out his phone to call the crew back. you got dressed and waited for the others to return so you could say goodbye.

once the team arrived, you thanked everyone and apologized for earlier. then, you turned to gojo. his face was blank, unreadable.

“i hope this is the last time i see you, new girl. but know this—if we meet again, i won’t be this calm.”

you said nothing, offering only a small smile that showed you understood exactly what he meant. then, you left the penthouse and headed to the car waiting for you downstairs.

about a month later, as you walked through shibuya to grab a coffee, you spotted a massive billboard featuring one of the photos gojo had taken of you. when the lingerie brand said they loved the shoot and wanted to sign a long-term contract with you, you felt like you could burst with happiness.

as you waited for your coffee at the café, your phone buzzed with a message. the number was unfamiliar, but you knew immediately who it was.

𓉘13:15𓉝 unknown number: heard you’ll be walking paris fashion week. also heard you’ve got a magazine shoot coming up.

𓉘13:15𓉝 unknown number: funny coincidence, looks like i’m the one shooting that.

𓉘13:15𓉝 unknown number: after the shoot, you’re coming to my hotel, and i’ll deal with you personally for that time you stood up to me in front of everyone.

biting the inside of your cheek, you slipped your phone back into your coat pocket, a small smile tugging at your lips.

photographer!gojo was definitely the cockiest and most arrogant guy you’d ever met, but he was always the best at what he did. no one could rival his professionalism. he knew exactly how to elevate his subject and make them look absolutely stunning.

a little note: it’s been a scenario swirling around in my head for about a week now. it’s a bit long... but i hope you’ll like it

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[f1daydreamer]

His True Love

Warnings: Fluff, angst, and Lando being the ultimate simp.

Word count: ~2,500

Summary: Fans speculate endlessly about Lando’s relationship with Magui Corceiro, but they’re way off the mark. He’s actually dating Magui’s cousin—Amélia—a private and shy soul. After months of keeping their relationship under wraps, Lando decides her birthday is the perfect time to introduce her to the world.

---

The light from Lando’s phone illuminated his face as he scrolled through Instagram, his jaw tightening at the captions and comments under yet another photo of Magui Corceiro with his group of friends.

User4: It’s so obvious they’re together.

User3: Lando and Magui? I ship it!

User7: Power couple energy!

He sighed, tossing his phone onto the bed. It was the same thing over and over. Fans had latched onto the idea of him and Magui being together simply because she appeared in group photos and videos.

Amélia’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You okay?”

He turned to see her standing in the doorway, her soft hazel eyes meeting his. She was wearing one of his oversized hoodies, her golden-brown waves spilling over her shoulders, and her presence alone eased the tension in his chest.

“It’s just the fans,” he admitted, motioning for her to join him.

She padded over, sitting cross-legged beside him. “Still think you’re with Magui?”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s annoying.”

Amélia gave him a small smile, her shy demeanor never wavering. “Well, they don’t know about me. It’s not their fault.”

“But it’s frustrating,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. “I don’t want people thinking I’m with her when I have you.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she ducked her head. “I don’t mind staying out of the spotlight, Lando. It’s not worth the attention—or the drama.”

He frowned. While he understood her preference for privacy, he hated that their relationship was invisible to the world. She was the best part of his life, and he wanted people to know.

---

As weeks passed, the speculation grew worse. Every time Magui was seen with his friends, social media erupted with theories.

User9: Magui is so lucky.

User5: When will Lando finally confirm her?

User1: They’re literally perfect together.

It didn’t help that Amélia was nowhere to be found in his public life. She didn’t appear at races, avoided social media, and steered clear of situations where cameras might catch her.

One evening, as they curled up on the couch, Lando couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself any longer.

“I think I want to post about us,” he said, his voice steady but tentative.

Amélia blinked up at him, her expression soft but surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “It’s your birthday soon, and I want to celebrate you—properly. Not just between us but with everyone.”

Her brows furrowed slightly. “Lando… your fans can be brutal. I don’t want you to deal with that.”

“They’ll love you,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “And even if they don’t, I don’t care. You mean everything to me, Amélia. I want the world to know how lucky I am.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, and though she was still nervous, she trusted him. “Okay,” she whispered.

His face lit up with a grin, and he pulled her into his arms. “Best decision ever.”

---

The day of her birthday, Lando posted a carousel of photos on Instagram. Each one captured a special moment between them—moments that had remained hidden from the world until now.

Lando Norris: Happy birthday to my everything. You’re the kindest, most beautiful, and incredible person I’ve ever known. Thank you for making me the luckiest guy in the world. Love you forever, Amélia. 🧡

Within minutes, his post went viral. Fans flooded the comments, their reactions a chaotic mix of shock, curiosity, and adoration.

---

Fans’ Reactions:

User21: WHO IS SHE?!

User11: Wait… this isn’t Magui?

User76: She’s stunning omg.

User44:I KNEW IT. Lando wasn’t dating Magui. They didn’t have the vibe.

User54: She looks so sweet and shy. I love her already.

User27:Protect Amélia at all costs.

Amélia scrolled through the comments with wide eyes, her nerves easing as she realized the overwhelming positivity.

She turned to Lando, who was lounging beside her with a triumphant smirk on his face.

“See? I told you they’d love you,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.

“Not all of them,” she replied, though her tone was light.

“They don’t matter,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “What matters is that now everyone knows you’re mine.”

She laughed softly, leaning into his embrace. “I guess they do.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, his voice full of affection. “Happy birthday, love.”

---

Note

Hey, friends! So, this is my first time writing a one-shot, and wow, coming up with a plot? Easy-peasy. Actually writing it? A struggle and a half. But it was so much fun bringing this to life! Hope you enjoyed some Lando fluff with a side of angst—because who doesn’t love a man being a total simp? Thanks for reading! 💛

[j-partneringrime]

tr!aimsey is such an interesting character especially their relationship with death, they’re someone who has become so intrinsically linked with death, starting as a morbid fascination with learning more about it which became more and more obsessive until he eventually overstepped trying to directly mess with it. And now it is a more desperate fascination with it and specifically trying to figure out how to reach it for themselves which unlike the normal curiosity that they went too far with, this is the opposite, a much more serious and desperate curiosity which he have basically given up on trying to figure out at this point. Because once death wants something, it gets it, which normally isn’t that big a deal because death normally wants you to die, which is gonna happen eventually, so no big deal. But if you mess with death too much and it decides it doesn’t want you anymore, that isn’t as simple, death actually gets to show its power, so it takes your magic you used to disrupt it to begin with, but that’s not enough for death, so it gives you immortality, or more accurately curses you with never dying since they can still feel the pain and the dying but without any of the relief of death and the pain stays with them even after coming back, with the burns from losing her magic, losing his eye from the enderman/creeper and now the sword slash from ros. They had nothing anymore except their studies and so she put everything into necromancy and learning more about death, and they did good, they got close, so close that death didn’t like it, so then they truly had nothing, not even their magic, they lost everything, even the one thing you always have in life, the certainty of death, was gone.

That could make you become such a deeply lonely person, I mean imagine if you lost everything, had no one, not even death itself wanted you, that would mess you up, but she has had a long time to come to terms with it and grow from it, which also means she’s one of the most intelligent, especially emotionally intelligent, people, which meant that when they did get close to people again, they were a massive help for advice and help for their friends, which is good for their friends but also for aimsey themself, having that connection that they need after so long, having meaningful talks gives a connection you can’t explain, even if those meaningful talks are mostly one way, since aimsey is very secretive about themself and her past and almost refuses to say anything about herself and dismisses any attempt to try to get him to open up, but even with all that, it is still massively helpful for a character who needs connection so much.

Until eventually his friends, especially tr!ros get too strong an idea in her head on what they should do or what she “needs” to do that even though she’s still coming everyday for advice, she doesn’t seem to actually be listening anymore, it didn’t matter how many times they tried to help ros, she just wouldn’t budge from this inherently flawed idea that she is convinced will help her, and everyone else, which isn’t just bad for ros but also for aimsey, who has needed this connection so much and has begun to rely on it, even if it’s annoying that he’s seemingly the only person who actually has common sense or foresight with how much advice she’s having to give out, they’ve gotten used to being able to express their thoughts and opinions on situations and having their friends listen and care so seeing that they’re no longer really listening and are just doing their own ideas anyway would really hurt. Trying to help and make plans to help ros, only to show up the next day and find out she hasn’t actually listened and just took what aimsey said and used their plan instantly without seeing that that wasn’t the actual plan aimsey said to her. So the advice and talks eventually became more desperate trying to get through to ros because this isn’t her, this is her getting tired of what’s happening and needing to fix it so forming an entire idea in her head without seeing that this idea wouldn’t work and already isn’t working because she needs it to work, so it didn’t matter how much aimsey tried to get through to her, it wouldn’t work, until eventually they talk about where this idea in ros’s head is rooted, which is respect, the idea that if she can get them to respect her, they’ll stop, which she is going about doing by making them fear her, even though fear and respect are vastly different things. And aimsey says that to her which leads to the most important question they’ve had, would ros kill aimsey to get everyone to respect and or fear her, and when aimsey asks ros this, their closest friend, the person they trust more than anything, the person they can count on, that they can both count on each other to pull each other back, to save each other from themselves, they ask ros… and ros hesitates, and that’s all they need to know, the fact that ros could hesitate means that in her head there is a part of her that would and that part just seems to be getting bigger and bigger the more she spirals in this idea of respect. And then ros says no, which as much as she says it, isn’t the truth, the truth is she doesn’t know if she would or not, and that’s the worst part, not only would she consider doing it but she won’t admit it, to aimsey or herself, they’re supposed to be helping each other and ros instead of being honest and saying she doesn’t know, lies and says no, of course not, she could never hurt him, which is of course coming from a place of love for aimsey and not wanting to ever think about and especially not say they’d ever hurt her, but to someone as perceptive as aimsey, they can clearly tell ros is conflicted on it and even though know they know ros is a good person, of course she is obviously, that was never in question, but even knowing what a truly kind person ros is, that doesn’t change the pain learning something like that has. So aimsey pulls them up on it and makes ros confront that side of her, for good or bad doesn’t matter, because it needs to happen to help ros, one way or the other, and so they convince her to fight, which or course ros tries to argue about but still tries to make aimsey see her side of it, still not seeing that her side doesn’t really exist, it’s just a desperate attempt to stop the fighting by any means, by any cost, not seeing that no fighting, no threats should ever make them turn on each other, would ever make aimsey turn on ros, especially not to gain some form of respect from the people they already don’t like. Ros is too caught up in protecting her friends that she can’t see her friends don’t need protecting, aimsey doesn’t need protecting.

And you can see how deeply this is affecting aimsey because they’re talk about how they’re glad they chose to be alone, they’re with their best friend and they’re saying how they’re glad to be alone, because right now this isn’t their best friend, or at least not that they can recognise right now, because he has spoke so much about how everyone is killing just to kill and how that is one of, if not the, biggest problems they have with them, so for ros to now believe that she needs to do that to aimsey to “protect” them and gain respect from others, even though she already has aimsey’s and the kingdom’s respect (mostly), is obviously gonna be upsetting for aimsey and a massive loss of trust. And they start fighting, they both swing, and then they both swing again, then aimsey stops and ros swings again and then ros swings one last time and aimsey is dead, but of course, it doesn’t last. Because if one of them was gonna die, they’d rather it be themselves, if that’s because they can’t actually die or because they can’t bring themselves to kill ros, we don’t know (although it’s probably almost definitely both). But either way ros still doesn’t get to live, because she killed aimsey and death doesn’t want that happening, the past times it’s been a mob but this time it’s a player, and they won’t allow that to happen, so it instantly makes one of its already dead kill ros… instantly, because you don’t mess with death or the ones death has already chosen to punish itself. And after the fight, his relationship with death comes back up, with her asking, basically begging, death to let them go and just let them die, but of course, they were denied again, because even after all that with ros, they still can’t have anything, everything they want always so close yet so far, always. And then after they both parted ways after the fight, aimsey when thinking about going to ros, thinks ros won’t want to see them, instead of themself not wanting to see her, after the fight, he doesn’t stew in what ros did and get angry, he just kinda goes crazy (and high and poisoned), both because of what happened with ros and also probably experiencing death again. Because even though, they just fought and definitely lost a lot of trust in each other, they still care about each other and want to protect each other above all else, because the amount of trust they have in each other, one fight, no matter how big, will change that. tr!aimsey is SUCH an interesting and compelling character, and their relationship with death and tr!ros especially is amazing! I can’t wait to see what happens next.

(this is mainly about tr!aimsey so tr!ros comes off a bit bad from their arguments, but I promise I think tr!ros is a genuinely good person, just conflicted right now and she is also an amazing and interesting character)

[wukyma]

Oh you answered my question ♡ thank u, you fed us so much with all this lore !

First of all, the new poseidon illustration is now my new phone wallpaper, omg his pretty big face with the voluptuous hair .

Second of all, pretty please continue even without pictures ! I'm so interested in your Au! (Ur so right about the not-excuses of Odysseus, I would want Vengeance tho after this bad self-centered justification)

Love the poli/peri/emperor friendship, it's not the first time I see this headcanon and it's such a good idea actually (of course SweetBoyPoli is friend with everyone but the impeccable flavor of a friendship between opposites is still very cool/ complementary) !

But but if I can ask for pictures i would die to see 👀 the moment where they conclude the deal ?

(Also the HAND almost ON Polites FACE??? I have stated at that one for definitely too long. Oh god. Please, its kinda make me feral. )

💫Tatooed Polities ?💫 I must see him with the trident tattoo one day... OR even better : eurylochus/ody reaction to it! Because They know him for almost forever now, so the devastating realitie must be so hard on them (having a deal with a strong and violent god such as the earthshaker and all the implications, ohh good Angst!)

Okay, tell me I read that right too, Poli becoming ✨️friend ✨️ with Circe ?? Fuck your brain is big. Gotta think about the events on circe island with your Polities, that change everything for the better. Of course they can't fight so that rule out Ody and the Moly but maybe Hermes's still here anyway ? Like the little mischievous god he is...

So I have to ask, is Poseidon gonna spy on the fleet -especially Poli since he's beefing with him- ? I kinda have this picture of water spirits reporting to the god every steps ? Tell me if I'm in the wrong ~

(I'm SO ready for mockery tho 🧨 )

Honestly I'm really invested here so every choice is good ♡ would appreciate to read more anyway

(Not very good at detective sorry but hoping someone else will find it!)

FIRST OF ALL receive my massive thanks for writing such a detailed comment on my AU!! These guys are very dear to me, and it makes me extremely happy when someone matches my freak has the same vision <33

And you made it your wallpaper?? I'll bawl fr. Sadlyy i didn't really think through the moment where they concluded the deal, but have an interpretation! (Watch as i struggle drawing without any references except my own face)

The tattoo situation is interesting too because its purpose isn't only to seal the deal ;D hoping that I'll be able to show how that works in the next part— and yes, you're right about Circe; I don't care that it's basically a spoiler because they are just besties material 🫶✨️ can definitely promise a glimpse of Hermes!!

I didn't think of Poseidon using spies, but that's kinda adorable and I'll draw it anyway hehe,, something something water winions lore

(The bottom two are both from water but different species/habitats ig? Whatever, I didn't think too much about it)

[mixingandmelting]

Hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with a reader who makes it very obvious they’re crushing on the batboys? For not serious situations, they’re sweeter and just more in a good mood whenever the boys are around? Blushes a lot around them and the boys don’t have to be talking directly to them? (Crush can talk to the bat boys normally if the situations serious). (Crush has normal conversations with others people. But goes around telling other super hero friends or just normal friends whenever the bat boys is brought up by other people, they think the bat boys are cute. And always hyping them up to their friends/and the batboy friends even when the batboys are there).

Dick:

He’s flattered really. Yes, unfortunately for everyone, he’s quite aware that he’s attractive but it’s not something he often pays attention to. With trying to protect the world and fighting crime 24/7, being attractive is the last of his priority. But when you gush about him- his abilities, ideals, skills, him as a person - he preens. Sure, he’ll get flustered when you go off on how great he is (and how cute which really takes him off guard) despite the fact he’s right there. And of course he covers himself with the good old classic of clearing his throat even though the corner of his lips won’t stop twitching and the blush on his face gets worse by the second. It’s adorable really. You’re so obvious from how you fan over him whenever he’s brought up in conversations and completely burning when it’s just the two of you and all he’s doing is standing next to you. He sometimes struggles to keep his intrusive thoughts to himself, to tease and see if you can possibly flush even more if he were to poke or “accidentally” brush against you. Though, he’s starting to think you’re doing it on purpose and trying to trip him up when you become completely normal when he’s talking about a mission only to go back on talking about how cute and amazing he is to the person next to you (extra kudos to you when you somehow successfully get the other become a fellow Nightwing stan). Still cute though.

Jason:

People often think he’s dense in the romantic field. From being dead to being back alive and being all rough and reckless, all the typical stuff. It’s truly unfortunate (not really) that that’s not the case and he knows you have a crush on him. Like seriously? It’s so obvious, he’s concerned if there are people who can’t tell that you have a crush on him. The problem is that he doesn’t know what warranted it. He knows he’s quite a shot. Perhaps not as much as Dick given his personality and dark humor, but he has charmed plenty of women with his looks. However, being a former crime lord to now a vigilante outlaw isn’t really all that  glorious or something that gets others to swoon over… So yeah, he doesn’t know why you would get all hyped up over him whenever he’s brought up in conversations. Whether he’s there or not, you would rave over him which gets him to do a double take and play with his helmet or muzzle, whichever one he chooses to wear, because suddenly he’s feeling a bit too hot and needs some air to cool his face. All he does is stand next to you and when it’s you and him alone, he sometimes worries how red you get. He won’t lie, seeing you smile more because he’s there makes his heart itch and grin a bit. Plus, he doesn’t mind as much as others would think since you know when to get back to normal and become serious when things are serious.

Tim:

Someone save him. Someone please save him. You have an obvious crush on him and he has no idea what to do. In fact, he didn’t think anyone would possibly develop a crush on him as big as yours. He’s Red Robin and the former third Robin not many people really take note of. Well other than he’s Batman’s former sidekick and also fights crimes like the rest of the Bat family. You, on the other hand, are making it your life mission to tell everyone how incredible he is. Doesn’t matter where, when, and if he’s right there or not. The minute he’s brought up, boom. You’re off describing him in every way possible. Amazing, intellectual. Also what do you mean he’s cute? Since when was he considered cute? A part of him is on to you, wanting to believe this is all a set-up. A prank set up by his friends or family. The other part, he can’t keep a calm facade around you, covering his face with one or both hands to hide the blush that goes down his face to the base of his neck. There’s also lots of fake coughing and clearing his throat involved. Lots, to cover the happy tingles he gets, registering there’s someone who acknowledges his efforts and  talents. It gets worse and he gets even more conscious when you’re matching his expression when the two of you are alone. He’s grateful that at least you’re back to normal when things are going down at least. 

Duke:

Okay. Wow. You have a crush on him and it’s painfully obvious. There’s a first time for everything and this? This is definitely a first. Forget about Tim and his whole deal with Red Robin, some of the villains in Gotham don't even know his name. That should be telling how low in the pyramid he is. Not that it matters to you apparently. He’s with you and his group of friends and he can hear all the things you say about him given he’s right there. And it doesn’t stop you from fawning over his powers, his fighting and detective abilities, and- uhm ok. Good to know you’re into his looks. He lost track how many times this happened. He does remember by the end, he’s rubbing his face and resigning to sigh through his nose in lieu of groaning out loud. You describe him as if he’s the world’s finest. He can feel the heat radiating off his whole head and body so he has a pretty good idea how he looks. It’s better when he’s alone with you. Your face is burning and he does everything to make the vibe less awkward. It doesn’t work and he makes it more awkward as his mind and your face now resembling a tomato reminds him you have a crush on him. He does wonder how in the world you’re able to snap back to normal so quickly when he’s going through heavy material with you. All fan-vibe gone, you’re listening and giving input which are often good points and covers any areas that were missed. 

Damian:

He doesn’t understand your behavior. One moment you’re fine, societal “normal” according to what those around him taught him. You’re casually chatting, making jokes, and expressing emotions like anyone else. On another, you’d suddenly be jumping around and praising him all over the place the second someone drops his name. Disregarding how he stands literally behind you and his cheeks completely pink, gradually turning to red, he thinks of you being just as embarrassing when Dick or someone else in the family brags about him. His skills with the katana, compassion for animals- he can somewhat tolerate that. He completely disagrees over him being hot-cold. He is not hot-cold. His personality also does not resemble a cat. Also how is he cute? He’s far from the word cute, period. Then there’s when you’re alone with him. Face completely rosy and dusted in pink. Every single time without fail, it’s only you and him. All he’s doing is standing next to you and instead of being either normal or chaotic, you’re suddenly blushing. He had entertained the idea of you having interest in him. Until he brings up a new case to you. It’s concerning how you go back to being normal and, surprisingly, making plausible conclusions that help him find a new lead. So despite what everyone around tells him that you have a crush on him, he’s having a hard time seeing it. You are sweeter when he’s around but he feels as though having a crush doesn’t associate with split personalities.

[poorlittleyaoyao]

I am enjoying all of the thoughts. Here's a random scenario for you: Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue swap places. They have all of their original experiences up through the end of the Sunshot Campaign, but for whatever reason (mind-wiping? alternate-universe hopping? who knows) they don't waste any time trying to switch back. NMJ just has to Deal with being the newly-legitimized second son of the Jin, JGY just has to Deal with being a sect leader with the whole saber thing hanging over him. Who do you think would be most successful in their new role? Who would have the worst time?

Oooh, there was a poll awhile back posing this question (@qiu-yan was it one of yours?), and everyone responding had such solid reasoning for whatever choices they picked! Because neither of them is enjoying this.

For who is most successful, it's JGY, no contest. JGY doesn't have a background in saber cultivation, but he was born to manage and can handle logistics like a champ. In novel canon, he has field experience with the Nie that he can combine with day-to-day experience sect with the Jin; n CQL canon, he already has experience overseeing day-to-day sect business in the Unclean Realm itself. Easy! He'll just delegate all the saber stuff to someone more qualified! Meanwhile, NMJ does not have the skills set that JGY deploys in Jinlintai at allllllll. He doesn't have experience in negotiating with a superior (let alone a superior who doesn't respect him), he doesn't prioritize fine details, and he cannot (WILL not!) fawn. While JGY was learning customer service, NMJ studied the blade! He is AT BEST going to be too blunt and at worst going to throw hands.

For who is having the worst time, neither of them is doing great! From a physical standpoint, they'd both have a moment of "damn, you live like this?" as NMJ boggles at how long JGY's body takes to heal and JGY wonders how he hell NMJ built up so much resentment in his body. (A popular NMJ headcanon is that Baxia is a semi-sentient entity screaming at him 24/7 to fuel his bloodlust, and I do enjoy that, but it's also not actually in the text anywhere, so I am leaving that out. Ditto for JGY having lingering pain from injuries sustained in his fall.)

From a mental standpoint, if JGY is aware that NMJ is puttering around in his body, he is LOSING IT. It's his own personal "horse loose in a hospital" scenario. Not only might NMJ ruin all of JGY's standing within Jinlintai by being less-than-deferential, there are also THE SECRET CRIMES to consider. If this switch happens after JGY is entrenched as his father's fixer, NMJ could stumble upon the Jinlintai Murder Basement! He could reveal all of JGY's crimes! And even if he didn't, if JGS or whoever else deemed NMJ-in-JGY's body a nuisance, they might straight-up kill him rather than just dismissing him because JGY knows too much. After all, everyone saw what he did to his last two bosses! If QS and JRS exist, what about their safety? What about his legacy? What about his mother's wish? Any merit he achieves as NMJ will be credited to NMJ, not to him, and he would haaaaate thattttt.

Now, NMJ is also having a bad time, because not being accustomed to the kind of treatment JGY receives has made him ill-equipped to process it. Witnessing and being the recipient of so much injustice but not being able to do anything about it would be profoundly upsetting for him. He'd be even more upset if he found out about the crimes. His options for seeking justice are very limited! He could stab JGS and XY and then die himself, but even if he was successful, JGY's spirit would live on in NMJ's body to do who-knows-what. If QS and JRS exist, extended exposure to one or both of them could make him feel conflicted about all of the above, which would make him even MORE frustrated with the situation.

(Neither of them is bringing LXC into this.)

Bad times all around!

(Additional components of this scenario to consider: NMJ in JGY's body having to hang out with XY, and XY thinking his attempts to kill him are just fun enrichment. NHS figuring out something's up and (after assuring himself of NMJ's safety) using this as an opportunity to request soooo many budget items, pleeeeease san-ge? pleeease? SMS figuring out something's up because Lianfang-zun Would Not Fucking Say That and personally taking the initiative to get them to switch back. QS figuring out something's up because A-Yao Would Not Fucking Say That and also the specific way in which he is now refusing to sleep with her feels different.)

[abbyfmc]

Yandere Story Idea #30:

"The traitor /fake friend".

Yanderes must have had some friends before meeting their senpai. I like to think of those kinds of "friends" who envy everything you have, to the point of doing anything to take it away from you (yes, like those friends who steal your partner). Let's say your partner has an envious friend, who is so in love with you that he will do ANYTHING to have you.

So this is the basic story I came up with: Two boys (who I'll call Anderson and William) have been friends since the end of high school (A/N: or as long as you decide), being classified as the "inseparable duo". Anderson came from a financially well-off family, to the point of inheriting the family fortune and businesses along with his brother Axel; while William came from a lower-middle class family with parents who weren't exactly the best.

William was overshadowed by Anderson in everything; in his studies, at work, in the family, economic and social spheres; however, Anderson did not do it on purpose. He always tried to be good to William, since he always defended him from the mockery he suffered for being considered poor.

Anderson was very good and kind to everyone, whether family or not. Unlike many rich and upper class people, Anderson could never look at middle or lower class people as inferior; on the contrary, he treated them as normal people.

William always felt envious of Anderson and secretly hated him for, according to him, "stealing a lot of things from him," when Anderson even gave him work and NEVER stole anything from him.

That's why William set out to steal EVERYTHING from him.

That is, until you met both men. You were a lawyer (or any other profession of your choice) that Anderson and William stumbled upon.

William fell in love with you at first sight, but you never really got interested in him, since you were really interested in Anderson. Anderson also slowly fell in love with you, and over time you became friends, best friends, then boyfriend and girlfriend, and finally married. Needless to say, Anderson was an excellent man to you.

You politely and cordially rejected every flirtation William made, but he refused to lose you to the possibility of Anderson "stealing" you.

This is where William starts to transform into the Yandere fake friend.

Yandere fake friend went crazy when you and his best friend first became a couple.

Yandere fake friend heard how happy you and his best friend were and he couldn't stand it. He would pretend while he was with you or in public, but in private he would curse Anderson for everything.

Yandere fake friend wanted you to look at him at least once the same way he did, but he didn't want to accept the reality that you deeply loved your husband. He hated seeing the fact that you talked nice to him, hugged him, kissed him, or gave him a child.

Yes, the yandere fake friend hated your child so much because is Anderson's child and not his.

However, William wouldn't take off his mask just yet. First, he'll try to take advantage of all the opportunities Anderson has given him to meet people and climb the ranks; second, he'll pretend to be a nice guy to your son; and third, he'll make his best friend believe that he would never hurt him, and that he could trust him.

Then, the yandere fake friend will try to create conflict between you and your husband, with the aim of separating you and making you disappointed in him.

Now, Here I have a couple of scenarios in mind:

You get divorced:

1. The yandere fake friend saw how his plan was successful after finding out about your divorce. You could say he was jumping for joy in his house. 2. The only bad thing would be that your son is between the two of you, but he would deal with him later. 3. Whatever the rumor or reason for your divorce (caused by William), William will make sure that no evidence reaches your hands. 4. Now, the yandere fake friend will try to manipulate you with comfort, support, and brainwashing. He will control situations in such a way that if Anderson sees you in these situations with him, he will become even more disappointed in you. 5. Or maybe the yandere fake friend kills Anderson and somehow manipulates Axel into helping him get a good place in his business. 6. The yandere fake friend will try to seduce you and if he succeeds, he will want and do anything to marry you (and maybe want to have another child). 7. If he fails, he will kidnap you and your child. 8. It is likely that if you fall for his manipulation, marry him and so on, William would make your son a puppet to keep him quiet, since he knows that your son is not stupid at all despite his young age; and that the little boy is suspicious of him. 9. Did I mention that William would secretly despise your son? You don't get divorced:

William will be very angry and will fly into a rage.

He would proceed to plan B, which is to murder his best friend. He would plan an "accident", then take advantage of your pain shamelessly to get closer to you.

Then the yandere fake friend would pretend to be hurt to try and manipulate you.

Since there are no witnesses (according to William), the yandere fake friend was able to continue lying to try to take Anderson's place.

If you fall for his game and fall in love, he'll do the same thing I said before. If not, he'll kidnap you and your child.

When your child is old enough, he will send him to study far away with the excuse of letting him know other places to expand his mind and knowledge, but in reality he just wants to get rid of him.

He only does this because he knows that your son is a hindrance simply because he is the son of your enemy.

If he had a child with you, he will treat it like a treasure.

William would also treat you like a precious diamond.

William will also try every possible way to ensure that Axel doesn't suspect anything of what happened and that he doesn't get close to you, his son (let's call him Dereck) or yours either so that he doesn't investigate what really happened.

If there happens to be a witness, William will extort him, give him money or kill him so that you will never find out the truth or be separated from him.

Ending #1: William gets away with it and never pays for his crimes. He gets rid of Axel and your son with Anderson (Anderson. Jr.) and passes it off as accidents, leaving him with you and only you. 12.1- If you find out the truth about his crimes against Anderson, Axel, Anderson Jr and other witnesses; the manipulations towards his own son Dereck; the hatred against Jr and all the lies, William couldn't believe what you are claiming from him with pain and resentment for all those deaths and tragedies. When he saw the pain, anger and sadness you felt for those people, his heart broke as he desperately tried to manipulate you that it was an accident, but you didn't believe anything and finally you yelled at him: -"Anderson gave you everything! He advocated for you many times, helped you with money and in your studies, he faithfully supported you when you needed it and gave you many job opportunities, HE CONSIDERED YOU AS A BROTHER! And I foolishly fell into your game…"- And with that, William began to show his true colors. 12.2- If you even think of trying to escape or call the police, William will not accept it and will probably keep you kidnapped. If you continue to love Anderson and advocate for him, William will not tolerate his resentment or envy and will kill you because he cannot accept that you, the love of his life, loved his best friend more than him. 12.3- Poor Dereck, upon learning of all the crimes and manipulations his father has said and done, would be so devastated that he would leave that house hating William or he would take his own life rather than continue being his son.

Ending #2: 13.1- The beginning is similar, except that Jr and Axel team up to investigate what really happened to Anderson. 13.2- While William is brainwashing you, Anderson.Jr and Axel are trying to gather evidence, until they finally find a witness. 13.3- It turns out that this witness had not confessed anything because William had him under surveillance and threatened, which is why he could not speak in all these years, with a weight on his conscience. 13.4- Anderson. Jr and Axel managed to convince him that nothing would happen to him, so the witness talked about how he saw William tamper with Anderson's car (the same car that Anderson crashed and died in). 13.5- Obviously both Axel and Anderson Jr. were devastated. 13.6- They both decided to tell you about it and finally open your eyes. Needless to say, you were very disappointed and started to hate William. 13.7- When they got all the evidence, the yandere false friend was arrested, especially for the crime of murdering Anderson. 13.8- Dereck managed to confront him before and after much discussion, William confessed his hatred for Anderson because he "stole" everything he could not have, ignoring the help and consideration that Anderson had for him; the deep hatred for Junior, Axel and the murder of Anderson. However, William tried to manipulate him and did not realize that he was recorded by Dereck himself. 13.9- You felt pretty bad, but not for him but for your children, for Axel and for yourself. You hated yourself for falling for his manipulation, but you hated him even more for everything he did against someone who had nothing but attention for him.

-The End.

Yes, i made an entire story in my head.

[sweetteaanddragons]

Maedhros in Troy AU: Outcome

Okay, so with the Maedhros in Troy AU, I have spent way more time on Maedhros than Odysseus.

BUT.

I think Odysseus might be the key to how this whole situation gets resolved.

Consider:

Odysseus finds Elured and Elurin and tries to find a way out of the woods. In the process, he comes across some of the other refugees from Doriath, who are very relieved to see their princes and very grateful to the man who rescued them. For lack of better ideas, Odysseus stays with them.

(He doesn't recognize these stars. How is he supposed to get home if he can't even recognize the stars - )

The refugees head to Sirion. Eventually, they manage to get past the language barrier well enough to communicate.

None of the elves know where Ithaca is, sorry, or how he might have gotten here, they don't know anyone who would know - except the Valar, of course, ha-ha -

The who? Odysseus asks, very interested.

Oh, well, the Valar, these superpowered not quite all knowing beings who live across the ocean -

That ocean? he asks, pointing, just to be sure.

(This is the man who saw Aeolus's island and decided he was going to climb it. Who was told to go to the Underworld and didn't hesitate. He is absolutely going to try to sail west.)

This is a bad idea, the elves say hastily. Everyone who has tried to sail west has been forced to turn back or die.

Odysseus tries anyway.

He is forced to turn back.

He keeps trying.

In between attempts, he picks up some knowledge of the Silmaril. He doesn't care about it particularly; he just can't avoid picking up on some things about it.

Like the fact the Valar, at least at one time, badly wanted it.

Odysseus steals the Silmaril and makes another attempt.

The Valar have so many questions for him when he shows up.

He does get back to Ithaca, though.

In less than twenty years.

(The Valar, in fixing this situation, also get Maedhros back. There are many awkward things about this situation; the Valar have the Silmaril but don't really consider themselves to rightfully hold it given how Odysseus got it in the first place; Maedhros is an exile who is not supposed to be in Valinor and who does not want to be here, and now they have to decide what to do about that - )

(It does not help the awkwardness that Maedhros, who has had to deal with Zeus's tantrums over his refusal to kill a baby, Aphrodite's tantrums for reasons he's not sure he wants to understand, Athena's demands to know where Odyssues is, Hephaestus and Ares being what they thought was helpful, Apollo's curse on Cassandra, and everyone's general surprise when he didn't think human sacrifice was the best solution for placating the storms - )

(Maedhros looks at the Valar thoughtfully and decides that, for all his problems with the Valar, he respects the fact that they are not the Olympians.)

(The Valar are deeply concerned with what they hear about the Olympians.)

(This may influence their decision that while the Trojans can't stay here-here in Aman, they can stay in Middle Earth.)

(Maybe with the Edain on that island they were thinking of raising . . .)

[fancyfeathers]

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling

So even when Daughter!Darling gets older one of the punishments they still use is making her share or sleep in one of her sibling’s rooms so they can have eyes on her at all times. Most of the time it is Tim or Cassandra, they all are fairly gentle with her and do not overreact to situations most of the time in case she needs to get up in the night.

Damian has too hard of a time to be calm or gentle when he gets upset with her.

Dick gets way to clingy in his sleep, like to the point where she can’t move in the night because he practically squeezing her like a teddy bear, but if she gets sent to Blüdhaven when she has really messed up and has to stay with Dick that is just how it is, though it is better when Barbara is over because she is the one with her arms around her boyfriend’s sister and Dick’s arms are over them both with Daughter!Darling in between them.

Jason gets too many nightmares, dying and being brought back is a traumatic experience he has not fully recovered from and he does not want her to see that side of him.

Stephanie rolls around too much in the night, plus she is almost as clingy as Dick.

Then Duke is a heavy sleeper, having patrol during the day and a thousand other things, he goes to bed before everyone even leaves for their nightly patrol, they have been times where Damian or Bruce has found Daughter!Darling out of the manor because she managed to sneak pass Duke.

But sleeping with Mother!Darling and Bruce is not that bad, Bruce does not get home till late since he is the one normally patrolling the longest every night and his daughter has school in the morning so that’s normally why it is one of her siblings. But when she does end up sleeping by them it is actually nice. Bruce holds his little girl close whenever he has the chance and he holds her like glass because she is nothing like her siblings and he is scared that he’ll break her. But sometimes Bruce has a nightmare in the middle of night, or whenever he sleeps, of something happening to her and just immediately holds her so close to remind himself that she is safe and nothing bad will happen to her.

The thing is this goes on till she’s seventeen or eighteen, it is such a humiliating thing that she has to deal with just because she broke one a rule that wouldn’t even exist for normal people her age and then eventually she runs away because she cannot take it anymore, becoming a vigilante just to prove a point that she is not weak like the painted her out to be.

But then there comes a time where she is wearing that hero’s mask and she gets hurt and does not wake up this time. It was Bruce who found her body first, those nightmares he had when she was younger coming true.

Dick just shatters when he sees Bruce carrying her corpse out of the Batmobile and he can’t even cry because of the overwhelming shock he feels.

Jason, can’t even think, her body sending him back to when he died, she was scared and alone just like him when he was murdered. Tim has to be held back, he wants to hold her, he doesn’t want to accept the fact that she is actually gone, he wouldn’t accept that fact.

Damian is fuming with rage, people have to keep an eye on him to make sure he does not go out there and kill the person who did this to her, and by kill I mean rip limb from limb, leaving them alive while he does so they can know the pain they have caused.

Stephanie just shuts down, falls into a deep depression, unable to eat, sleep, or shower without someone pushing her to do so.

Duke cannot fully process the fact that she is gone and is not coming back, once they learned that she was a vigilante he used to check up on news stories to keep track of how she was doing but he still does when she is gone, only finding stories that are weeks old.

Cassandra and Barbara the ones who keeps everything together, they are grieving, but they know if they just stop everything the bad people and criminals in Gotham who do this sort of thing are just going to get away with it and they may have not been able to save her from what happened but they will be damned if they cannot stop it again.

[imstillalexcomic]

I just discovered you and I really love how you like tell your story’s. I am still partially closeted and you inspire me!!

I haven’t seen you say anything (or at least remember you saying anything about this),

But if you don’t mind me asking and it’s not too invasive, do your parents know/ if they do how did they react if you told them?

I wish you the best!!

Not too invasive at all! I wanted to start making comics again to explore my feelings regarding transitioning and to be as visible as I can be. I welcome the questions and want to answer as much as I can as best as I can. There wasn't really any trans media or creators that I was aware of when I was a kid (I'm 36 now), so I want to do what I can to be a resource. Everyone's situations are going to be different so my experiences won't necessarily mean yours will turn out exactly the same, but information can be handy and I certainly wish I had more of it when I was younger.

At some point in the future, I'm planning on having strips dealing with my parents, but a very truncated version of it is the following:

Coming out to my mother was tough since there are a lot of issues there. It was a very long monologue that didn't even get to my gender identity for about 30 minutes, I needed to set the stage for the "coming out" part of the speech.

For the most part, everything went really well! The issues I have with her still exist and likely always will, but she absolutely accepts me. She phrased things something like, "It always seemed like something was bothering you, and I'm glad to finally know now part of what it was." She followed up with saying that she only cares about my happiness and if this is what makes me happy then she's all for it.

As a note, coming out to my mom was preeeeeeeetty recent actually. Outside of my wife, close friends, and twin sister, literally no one else knew until this year when I started transitioning. I only told my mother and in-laws in early November, then the rest of my family at Thanksgiving, then publicly came out with a comic the next day on Friday.

Regarding my dad, well... he passed a little over ten years ago. This is something that I never got the chance to talk with him about. Given the type of person he was, I do genuinely believe that he'd be supportive, but similar to my mom there are issues that would have remained even if he were still around.

Wishing you the best, and thank you for the question!

[boopdadooper]

Just wanted to show everyone the clip from Dream's latest stream where he talks about the whole 'showing nsfw fanart in a discord call with minors'.

Here's a link to the stream. It starts from 2:56:06 and goes until 3:00:55

Here is the abridged transcript. It is heavily paraphrased, as the original has a lot of stuttering, but I've done my best to stay as impartial as possible, though I very forwardly admit that I have a bias, and strong opinions about this whole situation. I urge you to read the full, unedited transcript below the cut, and watch the clip.

"So why is Dream skipping over Tubbo talking about the inappropriate conversations happening in discord calls in the Dream SMP?" I didn't intentionally skip over that. Tubbo didn't give any specifics, so I won't go into full detail, but I'll give a bit more than what he did because, the way he's phrasing it, it sounds a lot worse, like something that could be used in a 'gotcha!' moment against me. But it doesn't directly involve me, other than the fact that I owned the Dream SMP, so it was my discord server. Tubbo brought it up to me in a previous call that how, on looking back, there were some interactions he had in the Dream SMP discord that he was uncomfortable about because he was seventeen at the time. And one thing he brought up was how there was a fanart porn image shown. It's not something that should be shown to anyone, regardless of age. But this happened with a bunch of people who were on the Dream SMP in a call together, looking though some of the crazy art people had drawn of them, to poke fun at it. And one of the images was BadBoyHalo's Minecraft character, with a penis, with Skeppy's Minecraft character. Now, I validated Tubbo's concerns - it's obviously something that could make anyone uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor. But also, I did express that the way he brought it up, it could be used to accuse us of being predators. And, it wasn't something that I did… Look, privately, with George and Nick, I have shared things like this to poke fun at it with them. So, if you come in looking at us through the lens that we're terrible, creepy guys, then this instance where we showed fanart porn is vindicating, and can be held up as an example of a predatory action. And it shouldn't have happened, and maybe it's fair to say that you should avoid having anything like that in a channel with people who are seventeen, as Tubbo was. But, in that situation, no one was trying to be creepy or predatory. People were treating Tubbo as if he was an adult, like them. Which shouldn't have happened, but is also something that both Tubbo and Tommy asked for. They both asked not to be treated any different, but they are also still kids. You shouldn't take their word for that. It wasn't a thing that happened often, this was just one instance Tubbo brought up. Obviously, people are going to take that information and run with it, but, be real. We're creators who have to deal with that sort of art being shared about us, and we were talking about it as a collective. It wasn't some weird, sexual thing. And this wasn't something that I was directly involved in. In this case, I think more context is better. Because saying that 'there were some inappropriate conversations and actions that happened in the Dream SMP discords that Dream was aware of' sounds a lot worse out of context than with the details. And I'm sure Tubbo didn't want to go into specifics because of how awkward it was, but sometimes the details are necessary.

Full Transcript:

Um... 

"So why is Dream skipping over Tubbo talking about the inappropriate conversations happening in discord calls in the Dream SMP?" Um…

I didn't intentionally skip over that, um, I can look at- I don't know when he said it in the vod, but, um... Yeah one of the things Tubbo- so, I guess- Tubbo didn't give any specifics so I'm not going to give exact specifics, but I'll give more specifics than Tubbo did because again, it does make it seem a- a lot worse than what he's... y'know, th-the way that Tubbo's phrasing it, I do think that eventually it's something that could be, y'know, used in like a 'gotcha!' moment of like, 'Oh my god!'. But, first of all, it doesn't involve me, like I have nothing- o-other than the fact that obviously the Dream SMP is my... is like my- my thing, so it's my discord. Y'know, whatever. Um…

But, uh, but Tubbo brought up to me one of the previous times we called, um, how looking back on, um, y'know, some interactions that he had, uh, in the Dream SMP discord that he y’know, was uncomfortable because he was seventeen, or whatever, at the time. And, um, (stuttering) an interaction he, y’know, brought up was that in a, um, in, like, one of the chat- one of the Dream SMP chats or whatever, um, there was like, uh, a-a fanart porn image shown.

Um, now, obviously that's not something that should be shown regardless, um, uh, to anybody, it doesn't matter what the affiliation is, but, um, or like, I dunno what their... I guess age is, unless they- y'know, whatever, um... But, to give context because I think it- it is important, um, to this situation, is it was a bunch of Dream SMP people in a call, um, looking at the fact that fans were drawing crazy art like that and making fun of it, and being, like, 'oh my god, this is crazy, this is disgusting' um, y'know 'no one should do this' essentially. Um, and to give context to like, an image, I guess, I don't know how to say this without it being kind of... it's not graphic, but like, is. It- I think it was like, a BadBoyHalo Minecraft character with like, a penis, and a- and a Skeppy Minecraft character…

Obviously, again, I-I validated, uh, Tubbo's concerns and was like, yeah, obviously that's, like- obviously that's something that could make someone uncomfortable and I totally see that, and obviously if you're a minor being around something shared like- or shown like that, then you wouldn't- you wouldn't- you wouldn't want to be, um... But, I also did express to him that, uh, y'know, the way that that's being brought up - even in this context - is like, almost as a way of, like, 'Therefore (y'know) these people are predators!' o-or whatever. And again, that wasn't- that's not me, I wasn't- I didn't- it wasn't something that I- I did, or whatever, but it's also something that, uh…

Um, I definitely, y'know, even privately with George and Nick, or whatever, have shared ridiculous things like- and t-they're like 'Look at this, this is terrible!' um, and so, uh, I- even expect him as like, you're- you're looking at this through a lens of, like, if- if these guys are super- if these guys are super terrible, creepy guys, then look at this action where they shared, y'know, Skeppy/BadBoyHalo Minecraft porn and that's a predatory, like, action, um... And so I think it can both be not something that should be happened and- happening, and something that's fair to look at and be like, hey that's, y'know, hey, you should avoid having anybody in a channel with anything like that if they're seventeen, um, y'know, as Tubbo was. 

But, the way that I- it kinda looked as, Tubbo's like- well, no one- I-I don't think anyone in that scenario was trying to be creepy, or- or predatory to anybody. It was people treating Tubbo like, he was, uh, y'know, just like them - like he was an adult. Um, which probably shouldn't have happened. But it's also something that both Tubbo and Tommy both asked many times. They both said 'Don't treat us any different, don't treat like anyone else' don't- don't, y'know, whatever. But, at the same time, they're kids. They're young. They're- they're minors, at that point, so they're not... you- you shouldn't take their- their word- their word- word for that. 

But it's not like that was, like, a frequent thing that happened, obviously, again, this was one instance that Tubbo brought up, I'm not sure, I've- I- I don't know this- the exact specifics, but that's something that Tubbo brought. Um, and so that- I- I don't know the exact clip where he mentioned that, but there's, y'know, that. 

Obviously people- I'm sure people will run to the hills with that information, and be like 'Oh my god! They're fucking- They're- They're sharing, y'know, whatever!'. It's like, guys. Be for real, be serious, and realise the luni- the lunicacy of the situation we were in as creators having that type of stuff posted about us, and were collectively, as a collective, talking about it, and sharing it and being like, 'What the hell, what is this?' y'know. Um, and- and not like, a 'oh my god, this is like-' like, it's not a sexual, weird thing. 

Then again, wasn't something that I- that I was personally, as far as I know, directly involved in. But, um, but it is something that, obviously-

But again, it- it feels... It's not disingenuous, but it feels... the, like... given- It's almost sometimes the more context is better. Like, in this case, saying, like 'Yeah, there was some inappropriate stuff that happened- conversations and stuff that happened in Dream SMP discords that, like, Dream was aware of and that's like...' y'know, like, whatever. That without more context sounds weirder than if you give more context, where it's like, 'well, yeah, okay'. It's almost worse to- it's like, I don't wanna- sometimes I'm like- I'm sure Tubbo's like 'I don't wanna give details because it's awkward to talk about' versus- But sometimes, like, details are necessary, I guess, in a way, um... So…

If there are any errors, please let me know.

[tobiasdrake]

Your previous posts on how much smarter Vegeta was during the Saiyan and Namek Arcs made me think, and I believe I've pondered an explanation. And it revolves around Vegeta's poison.

See, Vegeta CAN be very smart...when he's dealing with the unsurmountable and/or incomprehensible. Problem is, when he's got a handle on the situation, or THINKS he does, he's prone to getting very overconfident and sloppy.

During the Saiyan Arc, he's dealing with the Earthlings and their ki manipulation. As you've mentioned, nobody in the Freeza Force does with Ki what Earthlings do. So he's on his guard, even when it becomes apparent that the puny Earthlings, even their token Namekian can't stand against the Saiyans. Once Goku wins their Beam-clash, he goes Grape Ape on their asses...but instead of going for the kill, draws it out to gloat, giving Yajirobe the opening for some tail-removal.

Namek has him dealing with FREEZA, THE STRONGEST BEING IN THE UNIVERSE!!! And so, instead of going head-on, Vegeta uses guerrilla tactics, whittling Freeza's forces down bit-by-bit while keeping his power suppressed. However, once he thinks he's Zenkai-boosted enough, he gets very cocky...and very dead.

The Android and Buu Sagas are where Vegeta's poisonous pride are at their worst, as he's so sure he's one of the strongest beings that he continually dismisses the warnings given by the Kid From The Future and the God of God (in this universe). "Oh, that terrible threat you're worried about? Big deal, I can take it." We all know how THAT turned out.

The final battle against Kid Buu is probably when we see Vegeta go back to being his tactical, intelligent self, as he lets go of his superiority complex and acknowledges Goku being his superior.

To be fair about dismissing Kaioshin's warnings, he makes a valid point when he brings up the fact that Kaioshin sorely lowballed the Saiyans' abilities.

Vegeta accuses that Kaioshin's been going "WTF HOW ARE YOU SO STRONG OMGGGGGGG" for the entire arc since they started fighting. Kaioshin's idea of a truly insurmountable foe is Dabra, and Dabra was only a threat because Gohan was rusy; Goku or Vegeta would have wasted him in three seconds flat.

Kaioshin's frame of reference is far, far below Goku and Vegeta's. So when Kaioshin says, "This guy is SO STRONG, you have no idea," how seriously are they supposed to take that?

Imagine if Krillin ran in going, "Guys, I'm serious, this is the most powerful foe I've ever fought!" Like. Okay. But that's Krillin talking.

Vegeta isn't right to be so dismissive of Buu. The wise course of action would be to remain cautious anyway, and that is how Gohan approaches it. In fact, being so dismissive of Buu has dire consequences for him and everyone else.

But his chain of logic does connect. It makes sense that he, at least, would think that way.

A far cry from the Semi-Perfect Cell incident, where he was just high on a speedball of mind-altering Super Saiyan effects and his own stupid ego.