#but I’ll keep posting about it because I know I’m right

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 2

In which you spend the weekend in Miami as Max's personal guest.

Warnings: smut at the end ;) Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k words (whoops) plus social media posts

(a/n: holy shit you guys absoltely blew up part one (its sitting at 1.7k notes last time i checked in under 3 days??? like WHAT???) so here's the much requested part 2. LMK if you want a part 3! Also going to try something different with the tag list tonight, so bare with me as I figure this out!! xoxo)

You play with the hem of the cornflower blue sundress, nerves ratcheting up another notch when the car pulls into the race track. After you had wrapped up filming the podcast two weeks ago, Max had taken you out to one of his favorite London restaurants where you had spent the next nearly five hours talking about everything and nothing all at once. The only reason you had left was that the staff of the restaurant had started cleaning up around you, literally sweeping up under your feet and turning off the music as you had lingered over the last bits of your dessert together. 

The next day, Max had needed to go back to Milton Keynes to spend some time in the sim ahead of Miami weekend, unable to stay in London with you despite every bone in his body screaming that he didn’t want to leave you. It was weird, almost scary, to him how much space you took up in his thoughts so quickly. He didn’t usually get attached to anyone, much preferring to remain aloof and independent but in the two weeks that passed since he had seen you, he was unable (or unwilling, depending on who you asked, honestly) to think of anything else. The way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you seemed to hang on every word that came out of his mouth simply mesmerized him. 

So now, here you were, two weeks later, moments away from seeing him again. Because while Max was down bad and trying not to blow this, you were also completely smitten with the Dutch driver. You had spent hours editing the first and second part of his episode yourself, something you hadn’t done in years, because you insisted you wanted to keep the integrity of the interview under your total control. Your video editor had seen the way you spoke about Max and just nodded, knowing that there had been something that sparked between you and him and that there would be no arguing about it with you. 

Max is in the garage when he gets the text from you that you’re in the parking lot waiting for him. As luck would have it, he’s just finishing up with some engineering meetings so he’s got some free time. He replies instantly, telling you to wait in the car for him and he’ll be right there. 

“I’m running out for a bit, GP. I’ll be back before FP1.” 

“I mean, you’d better be. Who else is going to get in that car? Horner?” 

Max chuckles, clapping his racing engineer on the back before slipping out the back of the garage. 

Max’s heart stalls when he sees the car you're in, nerves suddenly twisting in his gut. You two had been texting back and forth constantly since he left London the morning after you met. Evenings had been spent on FaceTime together when you could manage, but with your busy schedules it hadn’t been enough for Max. The relief he felt knowing you were less than 100 feet away had him swaying on his feet a bit. 

You knew Max was coming to meet you at the car but it had been a long drive from the airport, so while you waited you decided to stretch your legs. Max watches helplessly from a distance as the rear door on the SUV swings open, your bare legs making his mouth go dry when you hop out out of the car. 

It’s almost as if you sense his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze caressing your bare skin like the touch of a well known lover. It takes you a moment to recover when your eyes lock with his, the look on his face practically a billboard for how excited he is to see you. A wide grin spreads across your face when he starts towards you, heart tumbling down through your toes as he jogs your way. 

“Hi.” He breathes, stopping just short of gathering you up in his arms like he truly wants to. Despite how close you’ve grown over the last two weeks, Max reminds himself that it truly only has been two weeks and he doesn’t want to come on too strong. 

You look up at him, eyes sparkling with delight at finally being in his presence again. “Hey you.” You croon, nearly unable to stop yourself from throwing yourself into his arms. 

This kind of behavior was as out of character for you as it was for Max. You’d been burned by men in your life that were supposed to be there for you, love you, and protect you and so those walls had been put in place high and strong for years now . Something about Max made you question those defenses, wondering if he was going to be the one to stick around long enough to tear them down. While you tried to remain calm, objective, and aloof it was utterly impossible to act that way when you were around him. 

“How was your flight?” Max stuffs his hands in the pockets of his shorts, nerves turning the tips of his ears pink. He wants you in his arms so badly but didn’t want to push you away, didn’t want you thinking he had only brought you out to Miami this weekend for one thing. Because he hadn’t. He had simply wanted you by his side. 

“Well I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to fly commercial ever again, so I’ll be sending you the bill for all my private flights from now on.” You wink.

“You can use my jet whenever you want, schatje.” 

Your stomach does the same involuntary flip it does whenever he calls you that. At first it had been timid, slipped in at the end of a sentence almost like it was an afterthought or unconscious desire to claim you but as time goes on, Max settles into calling you either that or liefje more often than not. 

“Don’t tempt me.” You grin up at him, knowing that he fully means what he says. He’d absolutely let you use his jet whenever you wanted, all you had to do was ask. 

“So, your timing is really good.” Max nearly reaches for your hand but chickens out at the last minute, settling for just walking you back towards the car that sits idling behind you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I actually have an hour and a half break before I have to be back for the first practice session so I thought I could take you over to the hotel, get you settled in. I booked you your own room, of course and thought you’d maybe like to take a shower or a nap during the first session and then I could have an intern get you so you can watch the sprint quali later this afternoon.” 

Your heart warms at the earnest look on Max’s face. The fact that he’s gone ahead and thought all of this through for you, clearly wanting to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of all while you’re sure he’s overwhelmed with work, softens those well built walls arond your heart a bit more. 

“A shower and a nap does sound good.” 

Max smiles down at you, those blue eyes of his taking in every inch of your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory. “Good. Lets get you to the hotel then.” 

“Lead the way, Maxie.”  

yourpersonalinsta posted a story

story replies: user9029 girl drop the diet and workout routine plsss yourdad baby girl, i love you but put some clothes on >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too dad! maxverstappen1 are those my socks??? >>>yourpersonalinsta my feet got cold while you were gone playing with race cars. >>>maxverstappen1 i was literally working! and how'd you get into my room??? >>>yourpersonalinsta a lady never reveals her secrets, maxie ❤️ >>>maxverstappen1 i was right, you are trouble >>>yourpersonalinsta i prefer the phrase 'joy to be around'. pls hurry though back. i'm hungry and i may die of starvation in the next twenty minutes if you don't feed me. >>>maxverstappen1 do your fans know you're this dramatic??? >>>yourpersonalinsta why do you think they're my fans?

The rest of Friday blurs together in a watercolor wash of heat, and people, and sounds that you’re utterly exhausted by the time you tumble into your bed late at night.

Alone, thank you very much.

The wine that you had drank at dinner with Max and a few other drivers has heat pooling low in your belly as you watched Max watch you all night. You had wanted to invite him back to your room, but something kept those words from slipping out all night and Max had been the picture of respectable, simply dropping a kiss on your forehead before wishing you goodnight at your hotel room. 

Saturday’s sprint race is just as busy and loud as qualifying had been and by the time it’s over, you’re exhausted, hot, and sweaty. You’re over the moon when Max pulls off the win in the sprint, throwing your arms around his damp neck the moment you see him after his media duties are completed and he finds you waiting for him in front of Red Bull's hopsitality. 

“That was amazing Max. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. You make it all look so easy.” You gush.  

“It looks like you’re my lucky charm now, schatje. Won’t be able to win without you.” 

You smile, cheeks aching a bit at how much you’ve been doing that this weekend. You’ve fit in so well with everyone it’s almost spooky, like your presence was expected and welcomed in the garage, slotting into Max’s world with uncanny ease. 

As you follow Max back to his driver’s room that’s tucked away in the back of hospitality, his hand reaches for yours almost unconsciously. When his fingers twine with yours, the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in your stomach this week take flight yet again. If this is how you react when he reaches for you, you can’t imagine how you’re going to handle when he finally kisses you properly. 

The hallway is quiet and long, with Max’s room at the end of the corridor. You’re only about half way there when a sudden wave of nausea washes over you, stopping you in your tracks. “Woah.” You whisper, free arm bracing against the wall for support. 

Max turns to you in an instant, his handsome features a mask of concern. “You okay?” 

You blink a few times, trying hard to fight the impending fainting spell you can feel yourself hurtling towards. “I..ummm…I think so?” 

Max all but picks you up in his arms, ushering you the short distance that separates you from his drivers room. “Lets get you sitting down. Have you eaten today?” 

A blush creeps up your cheeks. “Not since breakfast.” 

Max frowns, “That was hours ago, liefje.” 

The room is small with just enough room for a couch, massage table, and closet but it does the job, serving as a quiet respite from the mayhem of the paddock. Max gently leads you over to the navy blue couch. “Sit. I’m going to get you some water and food. The heat in Florida is no joke.” 

You nod, already feeling a little better now that you’re sitting down. Max is gone for several minutes but comes back absolutely laden down with so much food, you can’t help but laugh. “Max, I don’t know who you think I am but I am not a 300 pound body builder.” You say though your giggles. 

Max looks a little embarrassed but just tuts at you, placing the plates (of which there are three) down on the table in front of you. “I didn’t know what you liked. You had fish at dinner last night, much to Lando’s dismay, but they’re cooking salmon tomorrow, even though I asked for some today for you.” 

The way your chest squeezes at his ramblings has nothing to do with the headache that’s forming between your eyes and everything to do with the man sitting next to you practically spoon-feeding you a roasted beet and goat cheese salad. You obediently open your mouth when he lifts the fork to your lips, only rolling your eyes a bit at his fussing. “I am an adult, Verstappen. I can feed myself.” You grumble between bites. 

“I know but just humor me.” 

You roll your eyes again but open your mouth, the beet and goat cheese salad actually tasting really good. 

“Good girl.” He coos, setting your thighs squeezing together on their own accord. 

Your eyes flicker up to his at the praise and something passes between you two, a little spark of heat igniting there in the small room. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper after a few more bites, tension hanging thick between you as you're tucked up together on the small couch. 

“Don’t be.” He insists, pushing a bottle of icy cold water into your hands. “I’m just glad I was here to take care of you.” 

“Me too.” You breathe, acutely aware to how close his body is to yours.

The urge to kiss you overwhelms Max, and it's not the first time this weekend this has happened. He’s been fighting the ever strengthening desire to just sweep you up and haul you back to his hotel room since you first stepped out of the Range Rover yesterday afternoon. Truthfully, he’d been wondering what you taste like ever since he’d walked into that recording studio in London.

He couldn’t explain how or why but your sudden appearance in his life seemed like some cosmic shift under his feet, his entire existence adjusting to this new normal of being in your orbit. He’d spent the last two weeks listening to all five years of your podcasts, even finding some old work you’d done in college and with each episode he found himself falling further and further into a rabbit hole that he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to climb out of.

Max falls silent then and so do you, a comfortable quiet settling over the room. The spark that had ignited so innocently just minutes before begins to smolder into something that has the energy between you two shifting. Like the entire reason for you being here this weekend had led up to this very moment. 

You break the spell first, leaning in just a fraction closer to Max like he's is the magnet you’re elementally obligated to be attracted to. But Max is equally compelled in his desire to finally find out what you taste like so he closes the gap between your lips and his, mouth grazing yours with the slightest pressure. It starts out as a timid thing, unsure of if it should exist in such a charged atmosphere. Once it gains its footing though, the kiss lengthens and takes on a life of its own. 

You sigh into Max’s mouth like it’s a relief to finally have him kissing you. Max lifts the tips of his fingers to your chin so he can tilt your head upwards, allowing him to deepen the kiss to a more heated pace. Your fingers grip at his Red Bull polo, desperate for something to hold on to while the taste of Max races through your veins. 

Something akin to a purr rumbles in the back of your throat when Max’s hands sift through your hair and it grows a little hotter when he tugs on the ends, forcing your head back so the slender column of your neck is fully exposed to him. You try not to cry when his lips leave yours, unhappy with how you can’t taste him fully anymore, but that disappointment quickly evaporates when he trails open mouthed kisses towards the enticing hollow of your throat. 

“I’ve been wondering what you taste like since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Max murmurs against your heated skin. 

Your head spins at his words. So it hadn’t just been you that had felt the spark that first day. “Max.” His name is a reverent prayer on your lips, urging him to never stop touching you. 

Max thinks he could go the rest of his life without winning another race and he’d still die happy because he’d finally kissed you. “You drive me mad, liefje. I am utterly consumed by you and I have no idea how you slipped this far under my skin so quickly.” 

The words send shivers skittering down your spine and you find yourself leaning into his touch even more, heart hammering wildly against your ribcage. 

A sharp and sudden knock sends you leaping out of Max’s arms so quickly, you nearly fall to the floor. “Holy fuck.” You whisper, hand flying to your lips like they’ve been burned. 

“Christ.” Max breathes, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah?” He calls, voice a strangled mess. 

“Uh…” The hesitation in the person’s voice told you that they knew they had interrupted something. “Max, Christian and GP wanted to go over a few more things before quali.” 

Max touches his forehead to yours, letting loose a breath to steady himself before he can answer. “I’ll be there in five.” He grumbles and you can hear the shuffle of feet retreating moments later. 

“You are going to ruin me, schatje.” Max murmurs, even though he has a feeling he was already ruined. 

You chuckle, rubbing your fingers over your swollen lips. You had never had a first kiss like that, ever. The way your body simply melted around Max like warm butter had your center turning molten. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” You joke.

Max just shakes his head and chuckles before his face pulls serious again. 

“How are you feeling? Do you want to stay here and rest or come with me to the garage? I could have an intern take you back to the hotel?” Max lifts his hand so it frames your face, concern flickering across his features. Your chest constricts in the most delicious way when he pulls your hands into his lap. 

“I’m good. I think your kisses may have healing properties actually.” You flirt, gazing at Max from under long lashes. “If I’m not too in the way, I’d like to stay with you.” 

It crosses your mind then, a quick rabbit of a thought, darting across your consciousness that you’ve been so independent for so long, so bent on not relying on anyone for security or safety, only to have the entire rug of your resistantance ripped out from under you. It’s a gooey and warm feeling that you hope isn’t just a flash in the pan, although your gut tells you Max is the real deal. 

You hadn’t given yourself this freely to anyone in so long, panic grips at your throat for a moment, the desperate need to flee suddenly choking you. Just when the panic of what’s transpiring here threatens to pull you under, Max’s cool blue eyes yank you back to him where you belong. 

“I think I’m going to like having you by my side.” His breath fans out over your cheeks, pulling you further out of your tumble.

Max stands, sensing something shifting deep within you then. He saw something pass behind your eyes just then, the delicate shiver of hesitation. He’d been expecting it. No one who was as strong as you were got that way without having a story to tell. He knew that and had known this moment would come. What he hadn’t expected was to watch you pull yourself back from that precipice of panic. It had been a stunning thing to watch, even if the act was nothing more than a fleeting moment. But the way he watched you catch yourself spinning and knit yourself back together without so much as a whisper of a breath made him want to shield you from whatever had caused you the heartache to begin with. 

He holds his hand out to you, which you gladly take, and leads you towards the door while knotting his fingers up with yours. The nerves in your stomach settle with his touch and it sort of scares you, how well this man can read you so soon. This had been the last thing you had ever thought would happen when the man you were falling for walked into your life just 2 weeks ago. 

yourpersonalinsta posted

198,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbull racing, and others yourpersonalinsta omg miami if this is how you introduce yourself to a girl, i can't wait to see how the first date goes! super proud of @/maxverstappen1 for winning the spring race today. next up: quali. user992 girl is auditioning to be the next WAG in the paddock >>>user020 seriously thirsting for nothing but clout this weekend maxverstappen1 told you you'd bring me extra luck this weekend >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ >>>user0093 oh this is interesting user9392 the fact that she was such a genuine fan of the sport before and now she's AT her first race as Max's guest all because of her podcast. i just... >>>user223 now i'm crying, thanks. redbullracing so fun having you in the garage today! excited for sunday! >>>yourpersonalinsta thank you for having me!

There was just something so enticingly attractive about watching Max race on Sunday that had you feeling embarrassingly needy for him by the time he got you back to his hotel room that night. As you had watched him on the podium that afternoon, you just knew how messy you’d be below him later that night.

“I think your performance this weekend has earned you a reward.” Your rasp, voice a husky whisper in his ear as you glue yourself to him in the elevator that evening.

Max cocks an eyebrow at you while his fingers grip at your hips. “Oh yeah? And what would that be, lifeje?”

“Why don’t you take me back to your room and let me show you.” You lick at his neck, savoring the taste of sweat and champagne that clings to him despite his shower at the track earlier.

Max’s groan is enough of an answer and when the elevator slows, signaling your arrival at his floor, you follow him out into the quiet hallway, giggling when he playfully grabs a handful of your ass.

You had tried to convince yourself the entire drive back to the hotel that this wasn’t how the night was going to end. It was too soon, you thought. This was the first weekend you had spent any time with him and you didn’t want Max to get the wrong idea about you. And then he had spent the entire drive back to the hotel with one hand inching higher and higher up on your bare thigh. His thick fingers traced random patterns on your tanned skin, until the very tips had slipped just under the hem of your dress and all thoughts had eddied right out of your head.

Max, meanwhile, had been thinking of this moment since the second he had climbed out of the car. He didn't want to push you but the need to learn how you sounded when he was buried deep inside you was was out of control.

The moment the door snicks closed behind you, you're shoving Max against the wall, utterly desperate to get your mouth on him. Sinking to your knees in front of him, hands trailing down his torso. Your fingers drag over the skin just above the waistband of his jeans, long nails sending a shudder down Max's spine.

"Let me taste you, Max." You moan, reaching for the buckle of his belt.

"Please." He begs as he sinks his hands deep into your hair.

You have to stifle a gasp when you free his thick cock from his boxers, pushing the soft cotton down to his ankles along with his jeans. He's already desperatly hard, dick all red and angry with arousal, practically begging you to take it in your mouth.

Max can hardly believe the sight before him. You down on your knees for him, lips mere millimeters from his raging hard-on, was probably the prettiest sight he'd seen in a long time. When you first wrap your lips around the tip, tongue darting out to taste the salty precum that he's already leaking, it takes every ounce of control Max has to not sink deep down your throat.

"Holy fuck, baby." He shudders, fingers gripping your hair even tighter. Max would be lying if he said he hadn't played out this exact scenario several times over the past two weeks, only it had been his own hand fisting his cock instead of your lips.

All you do is hum in response, the vibration of your voice sending sharp new shivers bolting down Max's spine. One hand snakes up his toned thighs, enjoying the thick muscles bunching and flexing as you take him deeper down your throat. Your other hand, however, trails down your own thighs, dipping below the hem of your dress to find your own already ruined panties wet with the arousal Max has already drawn from you.

"You like touching yourslef while you suck me off, pretty girl?" Max's voice is all gravel as his hips snap towards you, forcing you to take him even deeper into your mouth.

You look up at him, eyes watering, thick lashes matted with tears and smile the best you can with your lips wrapped around him. You continue your work, head bobbing up and down on his length, enjoying the way his dick is slick with your saliva, a bit of it dripping down your chin as you take him even deeper. You swear you could spend the rest of the night down on your knees with how good Max feels and tastes in your mouth, your own fingers buried deep inside you. The release you've been wanting all week starts to build and Max begins to feel it too.

Max knows he's not going to last much longer and he doesn't want to come quite yet. Gently he pulls you off, chuckling at the mewl of protest that slips past your lips when he pushes you off of him.

"Max." You whine, wanting nothing more than to swallow his release down your throat.

"Get on the bed, lifeje." He orders.

You scramble to your feet, disappointment at not making him come with your mouth quickly replaced with the anticipation of what you know is coming next. You've tried so hard to resist the fact that you've wanted this since the moment you saw him Friday afternoon but as you lay down on the bed and watch Max stalk towards you like a lion after his prey, all reservations evaporate into thin air. You know deep within your chest that this is what's supposed to happen right now.

"Dress off." He commands and the thrill of being ordered around flashes through you.

You follow his directions before laying back on the pillow, watching as Max reaches behind him back to strip off the sweaty team kit you hadn't bothered taking off before sucking his dick. A sudden wave of vulnerability sweeps over you as Max stands at the foot of the bed, eyes raking over your bare frame.

"You are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on." Max murmurs, sensing your hesitation at being so vulnerable in front of him. He doesn't want you to be nervous, needing you to know how utterly obsessed he is with you. It staggers him when he thinks about how deeply you've dug yourself under his skin in such a short time. You've barely spent longer than a few days together and he's already so deeply lost in you.

"Do something, Maxie." You beg, squirming under his heated stare.

His weight is heavy and delicious when he finally covers your body with his, notching his cock just outside your dripping core. Max reaches down, letting out a heated moan when he feels how wet you are for him. "You are soaked for me, gorgeous girl. God, how did I get so lucky? Have you been like this all fucking day, schatje?"

"Been desperate for you all fucking day, Max." You breath, your hips lifting up off the bed in a needy search for the friction you crave.

"Lets see if we can get you some relief, yeah baby?"

When Max sinks into you for the first time, you can't help the desperately needy whine that escapes from your mouth. His name is a prayer on your lips, every nerve ending in your body sparking to life. The stretch of his cock burns in the most delicious way. "So full." You cry as Max's hips meet yours when he slides into you completely.

Max doesn't quite understand how you're so blissfully tight and wet and warm all at the same time but he thinks it's the best feeling he's ever experienced. His head drops to the crook of your neck as he buries himself in you to the hilt, the base of his dick grinding against your clit. "Fuck, you're to tight around me baby. How do you feel this fucking good?"

You and Max fall into a rhythm, the only sound in the room are the quieted sighs slipping their way from your lips before Max can steal them from your throat. The friction is amazing and before he can quell it, Max feel the lick of fire coiling at the base of his spine, telltale sign that he's about to spill. “Won’t last much longer.” He pants, lips falling to suck at the skin at your neck. 

Max struggles to keep the pace up, diving into you with long, slow strokes that fill you up and empty you out over and over and over. Sweat forms on his brow that was tipped down in concentration and you have to resist the urge to lick it off. Every stroke deep into your pussy fills you up so fully it's almost too much. Too much sensation, too much heat, too much fullness. You can’t help the whines that slip from your lips but Max only encourages them by chanting your name over and over. 

“I know, baby. I know.” He coos in your ear as your muscles tense beneath him. “You’re doing so good for me, taking it all so good.” 

The praise is almost too much. “Don’t stop.” You beg when his fingers dip down between you to find my clit as he continues to stroke into you. Stars erupt on the back of your eyelids. “Holy fuck. Max.” You manage to bite out.

“Come for me. I want to feel you come all over my dick, please baby.” Blinding need consumes Max's entire existence, his full attention focused on the way you clench around him over and over.  

That’s all it takes. The command sends you hurtling over the edge, right into a spine tingling orgasm. Your body goes rigid for a moment under Max's weight but as quick as it starts, a boneless languid feeling sweeps through you as the endorphins flood your system. Your own climax has pushed Max over he edge and he comes hard, groaning in your ear as he rasps your name. 

Max collapses on top of you and you relish the heavy weight of his body on yours. Much too soon, he rolls off and you whimper, instantly feeling empty without him inside you. Max gathers you up in his arms though, the heat of his body quickly warming your chilled skin. Your hand settles on his chest, right over his heart, which is still racing.

“Jesus Christ, shactje.” Max finally breaks the silence, giving my hip a squeeze as he nuzzles into my hair. “You really are going to ruin me.”

maxverstappen1 posted:

838,291 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1: another great weekend with a good haul of points! Thank you Miami, you were good to us. On to the next! user2992 uh, max? care to explain that second photo >>>user92928 is that who I think it is??? yourpersonalinsta had so much fun with you this weekend! can't wait for the next one >>>maxverstappen1 ❤️ >>>user0221 EXCUSE ME. user0022 i ran into them late Sunday night at the hotel and let me tell you...there's nothing PR about their chemistry together. >>>user9288 i fucking KNEW it user05543 anyone else see @/yourpersonalinsta's dad in the likes!?

yourpersonalinsta posted

231,209 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, charlesleclerc and others yourpersonalinsta after this weekend, i think i can consider myself officially a red bull girlie. blissfully excited i got to see a MV1 podium AND sprint win! thank you for letting me into your world @/maxverstappen1. can't wait til next time ❤️ maxverstappen1 gonna need you at every race now that you're my lucky charm. user9282 'thank you for letting me into your world' YOU EXPECT ME TO ACT NORMAL AFTER THAT CAPTION MA'AM??? >>>user7623 kicking my feet and giggling and i'm not even @/yourpersonalinsta omg redbullracing you're welcome in the garage any time!! >>>user9935 even admin has a crush! >>>maxverstappen1 @/user9935 i mean, how can you not??? >>>user9935 omg hi king. glad you know how amazing she is! don't hurt our girl, k??? >>>maxverstappen1 i would never ☺️ (liked by yourpersonalinsta)

maxverstappen1 private stories

story replies: yourpersonalinsta god i look good in navy >>>maxverstappen1 no more ferrari red for you, sweet girl >>>yourpersonalinsta miss you already 😢 >>>maxverstappen1 i know. i'll see you soon, promise >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ danielricciardo excuse me but WHAT THE FUCK >>>maxverstappen1 : 🤭 charlesleclerc oh she's got you using the lip biting emoji. it's over, pack it up boys. MV1 is officially off the market. >>>maxverstappen1 accurate though

@shelbyteller @martygraciesversion381 @anilovessadbooks @formulaal @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99

[homesick4la]

complicated — hamzahthefantastic

3. brown eyes at the entrance

contains: goofy drunk hamzah, quick mention of sex but no actual nsfw content in this one

summary: what do you do when your ex shows up at your front doorstep?

a/n: short but i just wanted to post hi

last part: with you all night

you left hamzah’s apartment that morning feeling more confused than ever. you two ate breakfast together and then you were out the door. he hadn’t even asked to hangout again or talked about breaking the whole “no contact” thing. he simply said he enjoyed the night with you and told you to have a good day.

how could he spend such an intimate night with you and not ask to see you again?

as hard as it was, you tried to be nonchalant about the situation. you could hook up with your ex in a casual way, right?

you call mandy, practically begging her to meet you for coffee.

now you were at your local cafe, anxiously walking up to the table you spotted mandy at.

“y/n! hey!” she said excitedly. you can almost see her eyes analyzing your facial expressions as you walk up to her. “so what’s up? you look like you’ve got something to tell me.”

“oh, it’s definitely..something.” you laugh nervously, “i uh, ended up talking to hamzah last night…”

“oh that’s great!” she interrupts, “did you get any sort of closure?”

“yeah, about that…i actually ended up going back to his place..”

she sighs at your confession.

“and we had sex but listen! i know that it was probably a bad idea but being around him again- it like made my brain go all fuzzy and all common sense went out the window.” you ramble, trying to defend yourself.

“y/n, i told you to go out on the balcony to get closure, not to hookup with him!”, she shakes her head at you. “but i get it. you guys have history, you’re comfortable with him. it’s easy to go back in that situation.”

“exactly! it was so comfortable! it felt like how things used to be. so now, i’m all confused because i thought i had finally gotten over him. and there’s matthew…”

“the guy you said was boring?” she questions.

“he is a bit boring but he’s nice- stable.”

“but what are you gonna do now? keep seeing him?”

“ugh, i don’t know. i guess i should end things with him- because clearly i have not moved on from hamzah yet.”

she nods slowly, deep in thought. “you think you’ll get back with hamzah again?”

“i don’t know,” you let out a harsh breath. “sometimes i think that maybe if we tried again, things would be different. like we’d be able to figure it out this time.”

she smiles softly.

“but today, he didn’t ask to meet again or ask how he could contact me or anything so i don’t even know if he wants to try again.” you shrug your shoulders.

“honestly, y/n, you might want to figure that out before cutting things off with matthew.”

she was right. you didn’t want to ruin a good thing simply for the possibility of getting back with your ex.

after another thirty minutes of catching up over coffee, she reminds you to keep her updated before the two of you part ways.

as you start driving home, your phone rings.

*incoming call: matthew*

“hey babe, you never texted me when you got home?” he questioned, his voice concerned.

you let out a soft sigh, “yeah, sorry- i went to sleep right when i got home.”

“you feeling better today?”

“yeah, yeah i think i just had a migraine or something.”

“good! i was actually wondering if you wanted to get dinner tonight?” his voice is hopeful.

he was kind and cute and he knew what he wanted. how could you say no?

“sure! were you gonna pick me up on the way or should i meet you somewhere?” you ask, a soft smile creeping on your face.

“i’ll pick you up at six. oh- and wear something fancy! i wanna take you to a nice place.”

you agree and say your goodbyes. you were excited to get dressed up and be taken out. you hoped that this dinner would change things- show you how interesting and exciting matthew really is, helping you move on from the chaos of hamzah.

…

the restaurant matthew had chosen was beautiful. the warm candlelight and low jazz music playing in the background creating such a romantic atmosphere.

he sat across from you, retelling a story about a hike he had went on.

you could tell he was making an effort. telling you this story with you in an attempt to share something meaningful with you. feel closer to you.

but as he kept talking, your mind kept slipping into memories with hamzah. you thought of how beautiful his face looked when illuminated by candlelight. the way his smile had always been on the edge of a smirk.

hamzah knew exactly how to pull you into each of his stories. he entertained you effortlessly. just one of his jokes could leave you clutching your stomach in laughter.

“and then i was there, completely lost.” he chuckles slightly as he ends his story.

“oh my god, that must’ve been so scary.” you reply, doing your best to give him energy.

he smiled softly as he looked into your eyes. “that’s what i’ve always loved about hiking though- you never know what adventure’s around the corner.”

“yeah.” you respond, smiling sweetly while all you can think about is how hamzah would’ve made fun of that corny line.

“you okay? you seem distracted.” matthew said, watching you as he took a bite of his steak.

“oh! yeah i’m fine, i just had a long day.” you explain, telling yet another lie.

“i get it.” he smiles, “no worries.”

god, did he have to be so kind and patient? it’d make you feel much less guilty if he was a complete asshole.

no, he was everything you should want. he was sweet, understanding, and so open with you.

but there was no allure. no mystery. no edge. all of the surface-level conversation you two were having was driving you absolutely insane.

“well, i actually had something to ask you.” he broke the silence.

you look up at him, nervously waiting for him to continue.

“i’m going on a trip to seattle next week. it’s completely covered by my job and i have a plus one. i know it’s a bit last minute but i wanted to know if you’d like to join me?”

traveling together would change this “casual dating thing”, into something more serious. something you were definitely not ready for. not yet.

you clear your throat to speak, “can i uh- think about it? it sounds super fun, i just have a lot of school work and stuff…”

he nods. “yeah, just let me know whenever you decide.”

“thank you.” you smile.

after finishing dinner, he drives you back home. he thanks you for the night, explaining what a great time he had with you.

he walks you to the front of your apartment complex and presses a gentle peck to your lips before telling you goodnight.

as you ride the elevator up to your apartment, you decide that you have to end things with matthew. you couldn’t go on that trip with him and lead him on any more than you already have. it was unfair of you to be constantly comparing him to hamzah. the truth was that there nothing wrong with him at all- you were the only person to blame in this situation.

you look up as you start walking toward your apartment to see hamzah leaned up against the wall next to your front door. his head tilted back, eyes closed- simply waiting.

“hamzah? what are you doing here?” you say, your voice coated in shock.

his eyes are low. a goofy smile plastered on his face. he was either drunk or high, or both.

“you look pretty.” you can practically hear his smirk.

you stand directly in front of him. “are you drunk?” you ask as you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“a little bit”, he laughs. “and maybe a little bit high but listen- i just wanted to see you.”

“oh and this couldn’t wait until you were, i don’t know, less…drunk?”

he shrugged, “but you were out with ‘new guy’, what’s his name?”

“matthew.” you roll your eyes at him. “how’d you know i was out with him anyway?”

“mandy might’ve mentioned that you texted her about it.” he grins, “i think watching paint dry might be more exciting than going on a date with that guy. i couldn’t let you go home and just be with that kind of…energy.”

you bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “hamzah, you can’t just show up at my door every time you think i should be around better “energy.”

“oh i can”, he shoots back at you. “it’s actually one of my best skills- showing up uninvited and reminding you of how fun i am.”

“you’re unbelievable.” you laugh, already feeling defeated by his charm.

“and yet”, he pauses. “here you are, laughing. i’ve still got it.” a cocky grin creeps on his face. you can’t help but laugh.

“you’re so full of yourself.” you shake you head, smiling.

“i just feel confident around you, that’s all.”

“oh really?” you tilt your head to the side.

“c’mon, y/n. tell me the truth- was he as funny as me?”

“no.” you admit, rolling your eyes.

“as charming?” he pushes.

“also, no.” you answer.

“then what are we doing here?” he lifts his hands up dramatically. “why are you spending your night with boring ol’ matthew when you could’ve had all this?” he gestures to himself, that goofy smile of his still lingering on his face.

“hamzah. you are being ridiculous.” you reiterate.

“did you mean ridiculous-ly hot and sexy or?” he can’t help but laugh at his own joke.

you shake your head and roll your eyes once again, still unable to contain the smile that seemed stuck on your face.

“you are impossible to argue with.” you tell him.

“is that a yes to me coming in?” he asks, a hopeful look in his eyes. “please? i’ll just sleep on the couch or even, the floor. whatever you want me to do.”

“you came here to sleep on my couch?”

“i just want to be around you.” he whined.

how could you say no to those brown puppy-dog eyes of his? and you couldn’t send him home drunk- that wasn’t safe. you just had to let him in.

“fine. get inside before i change my mind.” you tease as you unlock your front door.

the second you two get inside, he walks over to the couch, flopping onto it and stretching out with a smug look on his face. “see? look how harmless i am?”

“mhm, very harmless.” you say as you grab a blanket.

you start tucking him in with the fluffy blanket until he grabs your hand, looking into your eyes. “thank you for letting me in.”

“yeah, well you’re just lucky i’m too tired to kick you out.” you joke.

“yeah, lucky.” he repeats, his voice soft as his thumb rubs your hand softly.

just from the way his gentle touch and low voice had such an effect on you, you knew you were in trouble all over again.

a/n: next part soon. promise. also i did not proofread bc it’s 2 am and im tiredddd also writing this kinda reminded me of the song memories by conan gray so that is where the title for this part is from yay here’s the song if u wanna listen

[heesimp]

tasty (teaser) - heeseung

summary: it’s not your week and it doesn’t seem like the semester will ease up on you as time flies by, but your best friend is here to help in more ways than one.

word count estimate: 5.6K (891 for the teaser)

notes: let me know if you want to be tagged :) this is based off of a request an anon sent, so thank you anon! I’ll probably post it tonight or tomorrow. xx

warnings: reader touches herself, porn mentions, vibrator mention, phone sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talking, mentions of heeseung with other girls, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

posted!

Heeseung isn’t shy about physical touch with you or anyone else. He’s the kind of guy girls feel comfortable around with just a few words spoken and you’ve always envied the way Heeseung can talk his way through anything. People love him, girls want to fuck him, and guys want to be like him. There’s a part of you that wishes you could exude the same aura that your best friend does but, unlike him, you cower at any chance of interaction and can’t seem to get anyone to be interested in you the way you’re interested in them. Heeseung has heard your fair share of love debacles whereas it seems like romance is presented to him with the snap of a finger. 

It isn’t that you haven’t had experiences with sex and dating, but they haven’t been worthwhile. So far, nobody has been memorable enough to keep in your backpocket for days like this, when you need a hot and erotic memory to come in an instant. It feels impossible to find guys who know what they’re doing when a woman is presented in front of them. Guys are so lucky because it takes next to nothing to get them hard and get them off. 

And like, your best friend has had his fair share of hookup stories that leave you wetter than a goddamn fountain. He’s not shy about skimping the details because he’s seen you cry snot since kindergarten and you’ve seen him eat shit on bicycles since elementary school. Sex isn’t off the table. You just don’t have anything to contribute and he doesn’t judge you for it. You aren’t really keen on telling him about all of the bad experiences you’ve had when he talks about how mind blowing sex for him is. Part of you is envious that your best friend has never had one bad day of sex in his life. Allegedly. 

Still, this frustration bubbles up and there’s nothing you can do to quell the way you feel. Perhaps it’s a mix of general life stress and the events leading up to this very moment. The entire day felt like a test to your patience as minor inconveniences piled up on top of one another before your breaking point. You thought your vibrator sitting uncharged was your last straw but it seems like your mind isn’t clear enough to focus on getting off. You recall a few unread text messages from Heeseung and open your shared text thread with him and watch all of the funny TikTok videos and tweets he sends you. You’re missing him right now. 

Heeseung answers after one ring. 

“Back from the dead, I see. What’s up?” 

You huff. “Nothing.” You hear him laughing from the other line. The faint sound of his keyboard clicking echoes in your ears. 

“Can’t be nothing. You always call me when you need to tell me something.” 

“Not true.”

“Y/N, you and I both know you prefer to talk on the phone when you have something important you need to say so neither of us ends up sending long voice memos.” Okay, he’s got you there. “So begs the question: What’s up?”

“Well I called you because I’m bored. Happy?”

Heeseung laughs again. You’re sure he can hear your disdain. “It’s a good thing I know how to deal with your attitude, huh? Since you’re bored, I’ll have you know you’re calling me while I’m playing with the guys.”

“What, no girl to hook up with?” 

“Not tonight, princess.” 

“How sad.” 

“If you must know why, I had a pretty long day at work but I’m fine now. Jake’s ass keeps dying so that’s pretty funny.” You don’t say anything, not right away. Not when you realize you called him in a haste and that you’re naked except for a tank stop and dainty white socks. The realization makes your cheeks heat up as you think about it, even though Heeseung can’t see what you’re wearing. “You good? You’re unusually quiet, especially when you give me attitude.” That makes you roll your eyes.

“You know, it’s unfair that all you have to do to get off is brush your hand against your dick.”

“Where’s this coming from? You don’t really talk about sex. Is everything alright?”

“It’s unfair!” He hears you groan in frustration. You’re somewhat annoyed he’s still typing away on his gaming keyboard.

“Y/N…Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”

That question alone seems to ease your mind a little as your irritation bubbles over the surface. You couldn’t stop yourself from talking even if you tried. You tell Heeseung everything, good and bad, and he won’t relent until he knows you’re okay. But even this is treading into new territory. It isn’t that you haven’t noticed just how attractive your best friend has gotten since you met him for the first time as kids, but it’s the first time you’ve ever acknowledged it while talking to him. 

“I can’t get myself off.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. You don’t hear the sound of his keyboard anymore.

“What?”

“Heeseung…”

“No, say it again.” 

Suddenly, you’re starting to regret calling him to complain about something like this. You feel like you might as well be diving into the depths of your secrets.

“I can’t get myself off.”

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 15 | Unspoken Words

“A pathetic what? Loser? Nerd? All bullshit labels you and your friends love throwing around?”

summary: it’s pouring rain outside and you’re in a heated argument with the so-called ‘loser skater boy’ of the school, Chris about your popular friend group constantly picking on him but you don’t know what you could possibly do about it, in the heat of the moment you accidentally confess your love for him that you’ve been bottling inside of you for ages now, how will Chris react to the sudden confession?

warnings: ANGST, heavy language, pouring rain, arguing, angry love confession, kissing, mentions of bullying & possibly more!

authors note: bro this is coming out so late I’m so sorry I seriously am having trouble keeping up with posting fics everyday I might just change the schedule for every two days so I have time to write the fic so from now on I’ll post NNN fics every two days and I’ll try to make them better too, luv y’all sm and hope y’all enjoy this one

The rain was relentless, pouring down in heavy falls as I stood at the edge of the high school parking lot, glaring at him. Chris, the loser skater dude sat leaned against the slick metal of his beat-up board as water streamed down from his dark hair. It was a pathetic sight, really, the way he was looking at me through the downpour like he truly believed I’d stand there and listen to him whine while my friends were making his life miserable just a few feet away. “Chris, it’s not my fault they’re dicks! Just stand up for yourself!” I yelled, the wind whipping my words back into my face. I could see him flinch at the sharpness in my tone, but honestly? He was pissing me the fuck off right now.

“Easy for you to say,” he spat back, his voice rising above the rain. “You think I want to get into it with them? They’ve made my life hell since middle school. And here you are, acting like you’re above it all.” “Whatever, Chris! You could actually do something about it, but instead, you stand there like a pathetic—” before I could finish my sentence, he cut right into the middle of it. “A pathetic what? Loser? Nerd? All bullshit labels you and your friends love throwing around?” My heart raced as the fight quickly escalated, frustration spilling out of me like the rain pouring down but hee wasn’t wrong, I could feel my friends laughing as they made comments, snickering at his expense as they walked past us.

I was too stubborn to admit that it bothered me, to admit that I felt trapped between two worlds — my friends who I felt loyal to, and Chris, whose passion for skating and the freedom he radiated off him drew me in. “Why don’t you just tell them to stop?” I snapped, fists clenched at my sides. “Oh, right!” he emphasized each word through gritted teeth, “Because you know they’d listen to me. ‘Oh, look at the loser! What a joke!’” He was pacing now, waves of frustration beaming from him as he glared at me. I could tell he was hurt and that made it worse for me. This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation, it seemed every time we met, our discussions turned into a bickering fight.

“Why can’t you just grow a backbone for once?” I found myself shouting, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Chris was the one person I didn’t want to keep fighting with. There was something inside me that pricked me at the thought of him being hurt—something that made me want to shield him from the world, even if I was part of the problem. “I get it, you’re popular, you have to keep up your perfect appearance.” His voice was cold and I hated that I could see right through it. “But that doesn’t mean you need to stand by while they bully someone who hasn’t done anything to you.”

The weight of his words hung between us, and for a moment, we both bathed in the silence, thunder rumbling in the background and threatening to strike. My breaths came ragged, and I could feel the frustration boiling over, a fierce mix of feelings I’d contained far too long. “Do you even care about them?” I shot back, suddenly feeling more bold, “I mean, seriously, do you care that I’m their friend? Or is it just about you being the victim here?” “Maybe if you gave them less attention, they’d stop. Ever think about that?” he shot back with a knife that cut deeper than any of my friends’ insults.

I took a step closer as rain soaked through my clothes, breath hitching as the heat between us crackled. “You think I’m just some heartless bitch, don’t you? You think I enjoy having these petty losers as friends? You know nothing about me,” I spat. He stepped forward, our faces inches apart as the storm raged around us. “So what’s stopping you from saying something? You’re the one with the power in this situation, right?” And just like that, the last strings broke inside me. I wanted to scream, I wanted to shake him and make him understand. “You don’t get it at all, Chris! Maybe I don’t always know what the fuck to do! Maybe—” My voice trembled and before I could think about the honesty I’m about to spill, I continued, “Maybe I just didn’t know how to tell you I liked you!”

His eyes widened, surprise sparkling in them and my heart tripped over itself at my confession. My cheeks burned and beneath the rain, I could feel the silence swallow us whole. The storm around us was like background noise as everything I pooled inside of me far too long, unraveling and honest. My breath caught as he closed the distance, moving so smoothly it caught me off guard. “What are you do—” Before I could finish, he tilted my chin up and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was sudden as if he was attempting to drown out all the noise in my head, all the rambling I would never stop. It felt electric, warmth pulsing through my veins that made the rain fade into nothing.

When he finally pulled away, my pulse immediately started to race. I blinked up at him, confusion swirling inside of me. “Wait… Did you just really kiss me to shut me up?” He smirked, a shimmer of playfulness in his blue eyes. “Maybe,” he replied and I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension slowly dissolving into something lighter, something filled with hope. “So, popular girl, what now?” I hesitated but with a new fire building inside of me I grinned and said, “We show those little bastard who not to mess with.” And as the rain poured and drenching us both, I realized that maybe, just maybe, we’d figure it out together.

@hearts4werka |

𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🏷️ | - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknott - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - @sturniolosiphone - @sophand4n4 - @zombiesturniolo - |

[mage-ical-character-person]

Actually, I really liked the WOTFI overall, it’s only the ending that rubbed me the wrong way.

We got Puzzles and Leggy bonding in the Meme Factory mini-arc and I’m satisfied with the amount of it that was in WOTFI. There’s still time for Meggy’s feelings on the situation to be explored as a sort of epilogue, wouldn’t be the first time.

I liked the battle being musical it suits Puzzles well. And it’s not like it wasn’t tense during the musical number. The bit where Four and Mario saved Meggy when Puzzles tried to slam her into the ground was awesome. I love that Four sucks at fighting until someone he cares about is in danger and the adrenaline kicks in.

I think it’s fun that if everything had gone according to plan and they hadn’t turned Meggy back… Puzzles would’ve just… kept them playing minigames forever. You’ll play fun games with him and LIKE IT!

Ties into the fact that he’s always calling the crew his “friends”. Y’know

Brainwashing people to force them to spend time with him. He tried asking nicely and it didn’t work. This is the closest to friendship he’s gonna get and he’s just resigned himself to that.

And Meggy is genuinely convinced this is what’s best for him. Alas, the traumatized beanie girl has too much trust in the justice system 😔.

Wish we’d gotten to see her be his lawyer and have him plead insanity thinking this would help.

She’s trying to help even if she’s still really mad at Puzzles! I love that for her! I love her going “I know there’s a scared little child inside you” and trying to help him and get through to him but still being mad about what he’s done and having trouble letting that go even when confronting the most vulnerable part of Puzzles! She finds that scared little child with the intent of talking him down and ends up just yelling at him, but she also literally gave him a part of herself with Leggy!

I think that’s part of what’s made me more okay with the ending. I’ve come around to it a liiittle bit. I still don’t like it because implications of insane asylum and Puzzles was already treading a line there of being a sort of “I’m a twisted cycle path and I’m going to Jeff the Kill you while the song Pretty Little Psycho plays” thing. Y’know the trope: mostly benign due to sheer unseriousness but still sorta villainizing poor mental health.

But… Y’know the more I think about it the less it feels like Meggy was intentionally tricking Puzzles or using his vulnerable, lonely inner child against him. And that makes me a little more okay with it all. I still don’t like it. I don’t blame Puzzles for feeling like he’s been “double-crossed”, but I don’t blame Meggy either (not that I did before. Before I saw it as cruel but understandable in universe given the circumstances, now I see it as Meggy is so well-meaning she wants to help everyone so bad but Meggy. Honey. No…)

Meggy’s earnestly trying to help! I just wish Mario had let Puzzles talk for long enough that he and Four could get some idea what’s going on with Puzzles. (LET FOUR SEE HIMSELF IN PUZZLES ALREADY. THE NARRATIVE FOIL OF ALL TIME! GUYS WHO CARE TOO MUCH ABOUT PLEASING AN AUDIENCE AND ARE BAD AT EMPATHY! BELOVED!) Because right now the only one with any idea what he’s going through is so incredibly ill-equipped to help him and frankly shouldn’t have to! also this

She’s so well meaning but bad at it! I think about this line more than I should! Went to helping people school they told her to whack people with golf clubs and she sees no problems with this.

So bad at helping! Mario would literally rather die! I love her!

uuuhhh where’s that post

Also OOOH! I’ll have to keep an eye out for your fanfic.

sooo…

WOTFI

THEY DIDNT ADDRESS ANY OF THE PARALLELS AND THEN THEY

INSTITUTIONALIZED HIM

I’m so mad about this. I’m so mad. I’m so mad.

because okay. Okay remember this.

His super dramatic flinch here and there was that post going around like “I wonder what happened in Mr Puzzles’ childhood to make him flinch like that“

CHILD PUZZLES DOES THE SAME THING

EVERY TIME MEGGY/LEGGY APPROACHES HIM HE FLINCHES. HE COWERS. EVEN OUTSIDE OF THE POTENTIAL CONCLUSION HE WAS BEATEN, SOMEONE GENUINELY CARING ABOUT HIM IS SUCH A FOREIGN CONCEPT THAT HE ASSUMES THE ONLY REASON ANYONE WOULD GET CLOSE IS TO HARM HIM.

AND HE’S NOT EVEN WRONG?! THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS?

THEY INSTITUTIONALIZED HIM HE IS TIED TO A TABLE IN A PADDED ROOM. THEY APPEALED TO HIS HUMANITY AND FOUND THE GOOD IN HIM AND THEY USED IT AGAINST HIM.

YOU THINK THATLL HELP HIM? TARGETING THE MOST VULNERABLE PART OF HIMSELF AND GETTING HIM SENT TO AN ASYLUM?

AND IT SUCKS BECAUSE I WAS LEGITIMATELY ENJOYING THE EPISODE BEFORE THAT! I was having fun until that ending. That’s literally the one thing I didn’t like. The scene with Kid Puzzles was really well done. Everybody’s outfits were so cool. IGBP flesh blobs were there that was really cool

but then

I hate this. Genuinely worse than killing him off to me. It just feels wrong

[specific-dreamer]

i’ve been thinking about this all day but @dallasgallant gave me the courage to actually put it into words and post it but. consider a warriors au. except i’m really just drawing parallels so the warriors story happens the exact same just with the outsiders characters

i can’t decided if dally or darry would be swan.

which also begs the questions who’s cleon. “swan was cleons number 2” it makes me want to make darry cleon and two-bit swan. (because as much as he’s the resident joker we know he’d step up and be serious when he has too)

but also if i wanted to go off of canon id make darry cleon because cleon dying can be represented by him going soc

and dally would be swan not because he’s the number two but because he’s the one i think is most likely to step up and immediately get them to safety after everything

but also the backstory of cleon finding swan and naming her (i’m going off musical warriors but ykw they’re rly close so it don’t rly matter) and bringing her to the gang is so darry finding dally and claiming him core

(darry collects strays more than anyone else in the gang send tweet)

i’ll think harder on this later omg

you guys have to walk with me on this one okay.

cyrus might just be randy or cherry

WALK WITH ME cyrus trying to get all the gangs to have peace, work together and all that. randy and cherry finally understanding how fighting isn’t doing jack shit and they ought to stop

when i’m more awake i’ll grab my book and expand on this but im cooking here omg

anyways

ajax is steve 🧍🏾‍♀️

“i’m sick of running/i’ve got to f’s for yall: fuck around find out” tell me that’s not steve

fox is pony simply because they’re both the youngest. there are other better reasons but that’s the main one

idk if i want bob to be luther or just some random guy.

if i wanted to lean into history and keep it time period accurate it’d be some random guy

rembrandt might be johnny

can’t explain it but it feels right

two-bit feels like a mix between cochise and cowgirl

i also can’t explain that but alas

and idk who soda is help :(

[physics-of-one-piece]

I Take Care of You Now

Doflamingo x Reader

Summary: After a night of a heavy snow storm and rainfall on the North Blue Sea, Doflamingo gets woken up by the scraping of a snow shovel on deck.

A/N: A little short one-shot that I’ll implement into the main Red Suit Doffy Fic Merlot & Primroses but it can stand as a stand alone, too, so I decided to send it here. As I said in a post, Doflamingo’s core values he was raised with are something he sticks to. Also... I'm going to hell. I'm going to hell I'm going to hell I'm going to heeeeeeell...

but at least the Heavenly Demon is there 😊🤭🫡

P.S. I wanted to post this at 8pm it's 4pm, the Save Draft went into Post but it's complete so.... Enjoy? 🤣🤣 (I hate you, tumblr) (cry laughs)

Word Count: 3k

Tags: Pre-Relationship, Female!Reader, Rosinante's Wife!Reader, Doflamingo POV, North Blue Era Doflamingo, Red Suit Doflamingo, Fluff, Humor, Cuddling For Warmth, Mentions of Fratricide, Nightmares, Longing, Doflamingo is in Love, Protective Doflamingo, Post Minion Island, Girldad Doflamingo, Dadmingo, Soft Doflamingo (kind of), Donquixote Family, One Shot Fic

Doflamingo is back in the snow again. The white thick layer of it crunches under his boots as he walks. There is snow falling, wild and strong, chilly wind pushing at his face.

There is someone lying on the snow. He knows who it is. The blackened feathers give him away; Doflamingo’s clumsy little brother.

At last, Doflamingo reached him. Rosinante’s lipstick-painted mouth is moving. No sound is coming out of Rosinante’s lips. Doflamingo squats down beside his brother. Maybe if he’s closer, he’ll hear the words his younger brother is saying.

Rosinante’s mouth keeps moving, shaping the words over and over again. He keeps looking at Doflamingo, but no sound is coming out.

What is he saying?

I love you?

I hate you?

I’m sorry?

Don’t touch my wife?

I’ll kill you?

Which is it?

Doflamingo should’ve learned to read lips.

Doflamingo wakes with a gasp, sitting up in his sleeping bag. His face is wet, covered in sweat, and he barely registers a yelp from Baby 5 who’d slept atop his stomach and hugged him for additional warmth during the storm falling off him and on his lap covered by the sleeping bag’s duvet.

Doflamingo realizes he’s without his sunglasses because the world isn’t tinted red. The sudden assault of colors and sunlight illuminating through the portholes makes him blink. Continuing to pant, he reaches for the white-framed sunglasses and mounts them atop the bridge of his nose.

He pants for a little longer, then swallows down. His throat feels dry. He needs to get some wine.

“Young Master?” Baby 5’s careful, hesitating voice reaches his ear. “Are you okay?”

Doflamingo puts on a smile, if not for his sake, then for Baby 5’s. He hates seeing her distraught or hurt. A child should never worry about an adult. It's the greatest disgrace.

“Just a bad dream.” he replied, huffing. “Could you get me a merlot from the wine cabinet?”

“We aren’t allowed to open the wine cabinet.” Baby 5 said, frowning.

“I’m giving you permission,” said Doflamingo. He needs wine, right now. “So go get the merlot for me.”

“Y/N-san said you shouldn’t drink that much...” Baby 5 murmured, continuing to look at him worriedly.

“Who’s the captain here, me or my sister-in-law?” he asked, chuckling. It’s rich of you to scold him on his alcohol abuse when your own husband had been a nicotine-inhaling addict. Rosinante went through one entire pack of cigarettes in a day. How on earth you wanted to kiss his brother or even marry him, Doflamingo would never know.

“You are, Young Master!”

“I don’t know…” mused Doflamingo, making a show of doubt. “Maybe I should let my sister-in-law lead…”

“She doesn’t know how to sail! Or how to be a pirate!” said Baby 5 panically.

“Is that so? I guess I’m staying as captain, then…” He gave a dramatic sigh, fighting not to burst out laughing on the spot. “Too bad, I was looking forward to retirement…”

“You’re not even old!” Baby 5 yelled.

Doflamingo laughed.

“Young Master?”

“What is it?” asked Doflamingo.

“Do you think (Y/N)-san hates living with us?” asked Baby 5.

Doflamingo blinked. Now, he knew you would rather throw yourself in the sea than say anything negative to the kids or be hateful toward them. It was one of your weaknesses he used in his favor to endear you to living with him, after all. What made Baby 5 think that, was what he wanted to know.

"Did she ever say that?” Doflamingo asked.

“No,” said Baby 5, shaking her head. “But... she gets sad a lot... and she seems to like being alone rather than with the rest of the officers.” She cast her gaze away, looking truly sad. “It reminds me of Corazón. He didn’t like hanging around any of us, either...”

Doflamingo was rather impressed. Baby 5 started truly being aware of her environment and how people act around each other. Her observation skills were getting very good for someone as young as her — even Buffalo, who was six years older than her, wasn’t this aware of people.

Doflamingo found his chest swell with pride.

“Don’t worry. Unlike with Corazón, I’m keeping a close eye on her. You forgot she’s a civilian. Civilians are terrified of pirates on instinct. All her life, she’s heard terrible stories about pirates, so of course she won’t feel safe with the officers, or Pica, Trebol, Diamante or me right away. We’re big, we fight, we kill, we rob, we torture, and we have Devil Fruit powers. Civilians run from that, because they’re powerless.”

“I forgot about that,” said Baby 5. “That she’s a civilian.”

Doflamingo laughed. “How so?”

“Because... She’s really fierce!” insisted Baby 5.

Doflamingo chuckled. “She was a marine’s wife. Of course she’s fierce. Just because she’s powerless doesn’t mean she’ll let herself be stepped on. It’s what I like about her.”

Yes. Doflamingo liked that about you very much. It turned him on. Very much. Doflamingo licked his lips.

“Why does she seem sad with me and Dellinger, too?” asked Baby 5, pouting.

“You’re orphans. You had nowhere to go, and became pirates. She pities you, because she thinks it’s unfair toward you. She’s sad because she knows that’s how cruel the world can be.”

“She pities us,” said Doflamingo, shrugging. “It’s not coming from a bad place like others do. Her pity is genuine. She doesn’t mean anything ill with it.”

“I don’t want her to pity us.” said Baby 5. “I want her to -”

“To what?” asked Doflamingo, tilting his head down to the girl, intrigued.

“To love us.” said Baby 5.

“Fufufu! She does love us. She’s just too stubborn to admit it. After all,” Doflamingo smiled. “No civilian is supposed to love pirates. That’d be treason.”

“Really?” Baby 5 asked, eyes full of hope. “She loves us?”

“Really. So don’t worry, okay?” said Doflamingo.

“Okay,” said Baby 5, her smile blooming back onto her face.

“Good girl,” he said, patting her head. “Now, go get me my merlot. And get yourself some bottled water, too.”

“Yes, sir!” chirped Baby 5.

While Baby 5 headed to the kitchen and the wine cabinet, Doflamingo cracked his neck, then got out of his pink sleeping bag. The sleeping bag beside him — where you slept last night — was empty.

He frowned. What was taking you so long in the bathroom? Maybe it was that time of the month for you. He knew there were supplies in the women’s bathroom, so he wasn’t too worried about that.

He’d give you a few more minutes before he went looking for you.

His long legs cracked as he stretched them out, same with his arms.

Baby 5 came back, carrying his bottle of wine and bottled water for herself. Doflamingo took it, undid the clasp, and chugged it down in droves, basking in the liquid pouring down his throat and into his stomach, warming up his body.

“Did you see my sister-in-law?” Doflamingo asked when he was done, bottle half empty now.

“I don’t know,” replied Baby 5 sleepily, rubbing at the crust in her eyes, giving a little yawn. “Maybe the bathroom?”

“Go wake the cook to make us breakfast and hot chocolate,” he said to Baby 5.

“Yes, sir. Um, Young Master...”

“What?”

“I think there’s someone on deck,” whispered Baby 5.

There was scraping on the deck outside. Doflamingo’s Observation Haki didn’t pick up any threat from the person. It could be a fishman or someone stranded on the island.

“It could be a Klabautermann,” said Doflamingo, chuckling. Now wouldn’t that be interesting.

“Klabautermann?” repeated Baby 5.

“It’s a legend.” Doflamingo explained. “If a ship is very loved by the crew, it develops its own spirit in the shape of a fairy.”

“Fairy?!” asked Baby 5 in excitement.

Doflamingo chuckled in confirmation, tracing his gaze over the officers and top officers strewn on the floor of the galley, counting everyone else who was present. You were the only one missing.

“A human-shaped fairy wearing a white sailor’s coat and a pair of shoes.” he explained. “It carries a small wooden hammer, because it fixes up a damaged ship. Ours isn’t damaged, though.”

At least, Doflamingo hoped it wasn’t.

“Oh,” said Baby 5. “I thought it would be a pink flamingo wearing Young Master’s sunglasses, just like the figurehead.”

Doflamingo laughed. “It could be! That’d be fun!”

“What if it’s a ghost?” she asked with slight fright; she’d heard too many ghost stories from Law and Buffalo.

Doflamingo gave Baby 5 one of his grins, the malicious ones which he knows comfort her. To Baby 5, violence equals protection.

“You think a ghost can beat me?” he asked her. “They’re free to try, fufufufufu!”

After some more coaxing and assuring her everything would be fine, Baby 5 left for the kitchen again to wake the ship cook.

Doflamingo grabbed his feather coat where it lay spread on the couch, stepping over a sleeping Gladius and Diamante.

Now, why were they all huddled up in the galley with sleeping bags?

The simple answer was bad weather.

They’d been in a heavy snow storm last night. It was Dellinger’s first heavy snow storm. He cried and ran around in a panic the entire time. He had to be grabbed three times from launching himself overboard and into the sea. Dellinger connected the sea with safety, because it was always safe for him to go into the sea; he always fled there if he was about to get scolded — it was becoming a real problem and at this point, Doflamingo was going to listen to Trebol’s advice and tie the toddler with a rope. If Dellinger went in the sea under those stormy waves yesterday, forget about pulling him out, they wouldn’t be able to find him.

For the past three years, they rarely went this far up north on their voyages, and although most of the adults of the crew were used to responding to and traveling through overbearing hail and rain, the kids were not. They were too prone to making mistakes in the novelty of navigating the waves bigger than Sea Kings despite knowing how to navigate.

The kids had been absolutely terrified.

The storm proved impossible to navigate. Doflamingo put his family and its safety above everything, he wasn’t going to risk them all because he wanted to get to the next island on time. He decided it was best to hunker down near a mountain pass to the closest island than continue to navigate through the storm.

After setting anchor on the nearby, snow-covered coast of the island, everyone had huddled down in the galley beside the largest fire stove to keep warm, bringing in sleeping bags.

Now, after putting on his black overcoat to deal with the cold outside, Doflamingo quickly opened the doors, left the cabin, and closed them just as quickly. He made his way up the stairs and to the cabin on the quarter deck, then exited out into the open winter air.

There was a person on the deck, pushing the snow down the deck and overboard into the sea.

Doflamingo nearly had a heart attack.

After a moment, he realized it wasn’t the ship’s spiritual manifestation.

It wasn’t a Klabautermann. It was you.

Doflamingo called your name. You leapt six feet high at the sound of his voice, which made him laugh. You deserved the fright; you gave him a fright first.

You turned your face up to him. Doflamingo smiled down at you.

“Hey,” you said shakily, like you weren’t out in the cold and shoveling snow from the deck. “Good morning.”

“What are you doing?” demanded Doflamingo.

You look at him like he’s asking a strange question. “I’m shoveling the deck.”

…

What?

“Why?” asked Doflamingo.

“Cause there’s snow on it.” you said.

For a moment, Doflamingo was so confused his brain stopped working.

Because there’s… snow?

Why on… why on earth would you be the one shoveling the snow?!

Doflamingo deployed his strings, leaving the wooden, ice-laden balcony of the quarter deck, reaching you with a single leap. He stood on his strings beside you, because he wasn’t going to walk on the solidified ice undoubtedly hiding under the layer of snow.

“You don’t do that.” said Doflamingo firmly, his thoughts racing thousand miles per hour, the cogs in his mind rushing with what could only be described as Celestial Dragon confusion. “I take care of you.”

“I’ve been doing this my whole life.” you say, shrugging.

Rosi, I’ll bring you back to life and put thirty bullets in you this time. thought Doflamingo, clenching his teeth, his jaw hurting from how hard he did it.

Doflamingo took the shovel from you easily.

“Hey!” you shouted. "I need that!"

“You don’t anymore.” said Doflamingo, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at you with the sternness of a captain. He stepped down from his string onto the deck to stand in front of you — as he suspected, there was ice under the snow. “I take care of you now.”

“Doffy -” you started, but he would have none of it.

“You’re not allowed.” said Doflamingo, because what else is he supposed to say, how else is he supposed to let you know you are too precious to do grunt work? You are not to do any grunt work, ever, for as long as Doflamingo lived and breathed. His parents would roll in their graves if they ever heard he let you do any labor, and Doflamingo experienced a full-body cringe at the mere idea of allowing you to exhaust yourself. Unforgivable. Impermissible. Therefore, not allowed.

By his words, clearly you thought he thought you incapable because you are a woman, completely misunderstanding him as you said indignantly, “I am allowed -”

“You’re too cute to be out here in the cold, querida.” said Doflamingo.

Those words momentarily rendered you mute, and you stared up at him in shock, which made you even more adorable.

“I’m doing whatever I wanna do!” you protest, and it reminds Doflamingo of a bunny stomping its little foot on the ground.

“You get inside,” says Doflamingo, ignoring your words. You could think whatever you wanted, Doflamingo would rather put a sea prism bullet in his own leg than let you freeze outside and let you shovel the deck; he had Buffalo, Machvise and the others for that. Doflamingo wasn’t raised to allow you to do such things; he was raised to coddle you, provide for you, protect you, spoil you, and by his title as saint, he will. “I’ll get you some hot chocolate.”

The ship swayed under a wave, giving a small lurch.

The two of you slid on the solidified ice the deck had become overnight. It was only Doflamingo’s instincts and long arm that helped him grab onto you and pull you to his legs, keeping you from falling. You were completely unaffected, most likely used to such fumbling with Corazón — you didn’t even squawk in alarm, just took it like it was a common thing, to slide on the ice and risk falling and hurting yourself.

That was it. You weren’t listening to him. You were going to get a cold, and with your average civilian balance, break your skull. Time to change tactics.

“You made me do this,” said Doflamingo, sneering down at you.

“Do wha — AAAAH!”

Doflamingo reached down, wrapped his arm around your body, and lifted you up. Once he lifts you above his waist, and continues lifting you higher, that’s when you give an almighty, terrified shriek which startles the seagulls above the crow’s nest.

Doflamingo laughed, and put you stomach flat over his right shoulder, like he would a bag of gold, but you are a much more precious treasure he has than any gold.

There. Much easier. He should’ve done this from the start. Maybe he should carry you like this all the time. He smiled at the idea. Yes. That’s what he’ll do. You wouldn’t try to wiggle out of his grasp if he carried you this high; you’re too scared of hurting yourself by the huge height drop between his shoulder and the ground.

He straightened up, deployed his strings, and stepped onto them, walking on them rather than risk it with the ice.

“Doffy.” Your voice was shaky, terrified and breathless. Doflamingo failed to stifle his laugh. How adorable. “Doffy, put me down.”

You clutched at his spiked up, thick fluffs of hair. He sighed contently at the feeling, his chuckle rumbling through his chest as he grinned.

“Doffy! Put me down!”

“You’re not allowed!” he said firmly, but calmly all the same. He wasn’t angry, just concerned.

“Because I’m a woman?” you asked.

“No,” said Doflamingo simply. “Because I take care of you now.”

“I take care of myself!” you say indignantly as you’re being carried away on Doflamingo’s shoulder and back toward the warmth of the ship’s below deck with warm heating, comforting sweat and frosted, fogged glass.

He really needs to make sure with Diamante and Machvise the Numancia didn’t take any damage.

Doflamingo hears a giggle in his ear. He recognizes the sound, from a far-away memory long gone. He whips his head over his shoulder, and freezes solid.

“Don’t worry, Doffy.” said the little boy with blond bangs covering his eyes. He was sitting atop one of the posts of the sail, his arms tucked into the sleeves of a little purple feather coat over his light blue raincoat. He’s swinging his little feet back and forth where they dangle in the air from the sail. Something strange wells in Doflamingo’s eyes. His throat clogs up; he can’t speak.

The little boy sent him a big smile resembling the sun. “I’m okay.”

Doflamingo was hallucinating. He was definitely hallucinating. He needed to catch up on his sleep if he was seeing his eight-year-old baby brother and hearing his voice in his ear.

He headed inside, ducking as he went.

Baby 5 was tucked in his pink sleeping bag, back to sleep. The duvet wasn’t pulled all the way over her, so Doflamingo used his free right arm and lifted his finger, sending out a string to the duvet, lifting it up to cover Baby 5’s shoulders. Doflamingo hoped she at least woke up the cooks and that they started on breakfast and hot chocolate for the family. Doflamingo manoeuvred around the sleeping bodies of his family, stepping over their sleeping bodies easily.

In the end, you settled down after he put you on the couch in the galley. He noticed your chattering teeth, trembling body and red nose. He clicked his tongue in disapproval, took off his feather coat and draped the massive weight of it over your shoulders. The pink feathers completely enveloped you, tickling your cheeks as you looked up at him in surprise, the warmth the feathers suffused you in chasing away your trembles.

Doflamingo didn’t linger on the way you looked up at him, bundled in his feather coat and drowning in his scent, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from leaning down and kissing your lips to chase away the cold frost from them, too.

Instead, he slipped your arms into the thick, warm fluff of pink feathered sleeves, pulling the lapels over each other to keep you warm.

The sleeves were too long for you, and the end of the coat touched the ground of the cabin.

He went to get you both some hot chocolate and brought it to you to sip on in warm cups. The blissed smile you smiled and the relaxed sigh you released after your first sip of the hot beverage put him in a better mood.

He settled himself beside you on the couch with his pink mug filled with his hot chocolate. His thigh touched yours. This time, you didn’t inch away from him as you usually did when he sat down beside you during meals or in inns.

Doflamingo would much rather have your lips to keep him warm, but he’d settle for hot chocolate. For now.

He took a careful sip, and his body relaxed. He closed his eyes, basking in the bliss, his forehead smooth, free of any stress.

Feathers settled around his left shoulder, and his left sleeve fell over his arm.

When he turned to look down on you, a teasing comment on his tongue and a grin on his lips, you were looking up at him, and your eyes rendered his thoughts into a disarray.

“So you aren’t cold,” you said, lifting your arm high and stretching it all the way to adjust the left side of his coat atop his shoulder, which consequently meant you got closer to him, until your left shoulder leaned against his chest; if you leaned a bit further, you’d be nestled under his right arm.

“How do you walk with this?” you ask him, fussing over the coat. “It’s heavy.”

“It’s only nine kilograms.” he said. It was a comforting weight on his back; he was used to having it draped over his shoulders.

You deadpan at him, then, after a moment, say, “No wonder your neck’s starting to crane.”

“Drink your hot chocolate,” he said.

You snickered. “Yes, captain.”

You hugged the right part of his feather coat to yourself, draping it over you, covering your legs and entire body in the pink feathers. Doflamingo wondered if you liked the lingering scent of his cologne on the coat.

“It’s warm,” you whispered, closing your eyes, peaceful.

Doflamingo slipped his left arm into the sleeve of his feather coat, draping the front of it the same way you did. The two of you were swathed together in his pink coat.

You were right. With you nestled against him and swathed in his coat, it was warm.

Doflamingo didn’t feel cold at all.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @queenmimi2817 @dummyduck44 @daydreamer-in-training

[sevs-corner]

Another quick shot ideas on- Tf 141: Mafia AU!

Link to Prev parts:

Currently on Ch 2- Mini Epilogue, and you can find it here :D 👇

A/N: 1st Edit of adding onto Price’s part + the other TF 141 boiyos will get their own on a separate post✨

So here’s the sitch folks

Price👏has👏the👏moola

Which means that he will not hesitate to spend it all for you

But he keeps it lowkey, he isn’t the show-y type (cough Soap cough)

So he starts slow, aside from giving you his apparels, he wants to give something to call your own

But if he asks what you want, you’d suspect him

‘Smart sweetie,’ he thinks, whenever he sees you give him that inquisitive look

Eyebrow raised, a knowing smirk

If only you knew the things you do to this man behind closed doors

He starts giving you simple stuff, a bracelet - something that was sleek in design but had good value (both sentimentally and economically)

Because, when he gave that bracelet to you

It was the day he, tells himself this, officially fell for you- wanting to do his damnest to court you however possible way he can

Imagine a cold December, the worst possible season ever for you.

You hate the cold, as much as how it cool it becomes when the rain rolls in and rattles your bones.

No, you’re not old, just weary.

You always hated the rain, but why- as you stood hand-in-hand with this mafia boss- did you want the rain to continue.

Currently, you were running through the rain with him, laughing all the way until you found a tiny closed up shop with an awning over it.

Pointing at it with a quick, “over there! Som cover!”

Price nods and speeds up his pace, making you squeal— complaining that he should slow down or you’ll both slip but he insists.

“I’ll catch you,” he says so reassuringly, “don’t worry.”

And you didn’t.

Even when you both slid under the awning, with you almost slipping past-- but luckily he was there.

You then realize he is a man of his word.

Catch you he will, and catch you he did.

With his hands on your waist, you swore to yourself that you haven’t felt this more secure than ever in your life.

John Price on the other hand, was tethering-- barely able to keep his hands to himself once he got a taste on holding you in his arms.

He pulled you closer, not letting his hands leave you for a second, as he lets his inhibitions go, resulting with his arms wrapping around you securely. (That even if you did try to escape you wouldn't be able to- not like you wanted to anyways.)

Once he fells no resistance coming from you, he breathes in deep, trying to live in the moment as much as possible as you relax in his hold- both of your giggles dying out and letting the patter of rain consume space instead.

"You know," you whisper, "I hate the rain."

You could feel Price's chest rumble, and his voice respond right next to your ear.

"I know that, lovie."

You let that stew in you, humming out a reply that just came to the top of your head.

"But I don't hate it right now."

Price wanted to ask why, but he knew-- inside he knew why you didn't at that moment. Though it didn't feel right to voice his thoughts at the moment and simply holds you closer instead, hoping to reassure you through it that,

'its okay to hate things most of the time, but then like it when you're with someone.'

And he thinks to himself, maybe... it was like that with you too.

He never liked going out on dates- he never had time for those frivolous things.

He wasn't a gift giver, but always found himself giving you whatever you wanted or needed.

He wasn't a lover, but damned the world and his existence would be if he couldn't find himself not to love you.

Squeezing his arms close to you made him snap back to his reality, the reality that you were in arms-reach.

And that tether?

Now fully loose and wrapped around you-- just as his arms are.

Once you arrived back at your apartment, John knew that now was the right time.

So he tugs at your coat from the bottom of the stairs, barely able to catch you before you leave his sight.

“Hey.”

He watches you turn around, a crooked smile on your face as you copy him.

“Hey?”

“I-,” he stumbles, “-could you..?”

He lips feels dry, the saliva he gulps becomes hard to do with his throat feeling like sandpaper, his hands get clammy and he has to shove it down his pocket to avoid you seeing it shake.

You stare at him, head tilted as you return back his words to him- hoping to coax out whatever he wanted to get out.

“Could I..?”

With a deep breath, he forces eye contact with and asks,

“Will you accept this?”

From deep within the recess of his pocket, he hands you a small dark navy leathered covered box, gold engraving on its front— and it made you pause.

“John…” you step down the stairs to stand chest to chest with him, “…what’s this for?”

You wrapped your hands around his, entrapping the box between his hands.

If there was moment in his life where he felt his heart drop in- this would be the number one.

What if he overstepped—?

Moved too soon, way too early? Fuck- he just messed up didn’t he-?

“John?”

But your voice forces him to resurface from the deep spiral and he shakes his head. Splitting him from fantasy and reality.

He tries to ground himself further by dropping his head to lock eyes with you, and he swore that the stars still shined in them, just as the day he met you.

“I,” he licks his chapped lips, “I thought of you when I saw this.”

You released his hands for him to open it and once he did, you gasped, eyes snapping back and forth from the silver bracelet and his face- oh his face.

It was so twinged in nervousness but at the same time, a sense of softness and vulnerability that you instinctively knew that he never shows this kind of side of him to anyone.

“I got a couple of charms on it,” he points out with a chuckle, “thought it’d be nice to add onto it whenever we go to places.”

“Like a keepsake…” you mutter, thoughts unable to be kept within as you feel your chest tighten.

He nods, “precisely.”

“And this,” he points to the rain droplet charm, “will be a reminder of today.”

Any thought that came onto your brain was incoherent and words, if it were to be spoken right now, felt too cheap to say.

So you settle for a hug, one so tight and comforting that Price greedily wishes that he could be in it forevermore.

Eventually you had to let go, dry your eyes, and tuck in for the night.

“John!”

You call out one last time by your window, and said man turns, his usual smile softened by the glow of the moon.

“I kinda like the rain now!”

His laughter resounds through the night as he carries your words next to his heart.

‘One day,’ he thinks to himself, ‘one day we’ll get to fill up that bracelet.’

[electronicclowncollector]

STINGUE ESSAY

(Credit to @lilacharbour for providing me with the screenshots for evidence)

(^Yours (and your cat’s) reaction to seeing this post)

That’s right, in this essay, I will be persuading you, and any of the doubters out there, that the ship stingue is undeniably canon, and not the sort of canon you can just headcanon away. I will present several pieces of evidence with my vast knowledge of the Fairy Tail franchise (really vast) that can completely prove that stingue is a real ship (also known as Ring, stogue, the sabretooth boys, strong, but for the sake of keeping track of it, I’ll use the most obscure name for it, stingue). P.S. if you haven’t read my Rogue post, go do it, this won’t make any sense without a firm understanding of my analysis of Rogue’s character, and it's way shorter than this so there’s no reason not to.

Exhibit A: In this manga panel, we can see that sting is wearing a cat outfit. Many of the doubters would dismiss this, saying that this was all a part of his character development in the Saber Tooth arc, where he *Allegedly* wanted to become true to his guild name and become a sabretooth tiger (with cool dragon powers). I propose a different idea. He was doing this to impress Rogue. We all know the entire Fairy Tail franchise loves cats, it’s common knowledge, if you didn’t know that then you did inadequate research in preparation for this essay. But what makes this specific to rogue is that he’s wearing a cat COSTUME. NOT CAT EARS. NOT A CAT TAIL. AN ENTIRE COSTUME. You know who else is a cool cat in costume?!?!? THAT’S RIGHT, FRESH! ROGUES CAT. CLEARLY, sting was doing this in a bid to replace Rogue’s beloved cat Fresh, and you can CLEARLY SEE Rogue blushing, however, the blushing is only in the colored version of the director cut of the manga, and its top secret (only I have a copy), so you’ll have to trust the experts on this one. Also is the girl on the right single? If so, send her my way.

I’m sure the manga readers In the crowd are reacting just like Sting and Rogue did in exhibit B. But OP, I hear you ask, what about the anime only viewers? They won’t have this part of the manga adapted for years! And I must say, what an astute observation, I completely respect your question and you have earned a red heart, you can redeem it at the bottom of the post, or if you want to pass it to a friend press the two arrows button next to it to recycle the heart. ANYWAY, this shot here, was taken directly from the seen during the the raids on the beaches of Akane, when both Sting and Rogue had been caught in a quicksand trap by the SINISTER Bickslow. Where does Stingue apply to this? You may ask. Well, just outside the frame, we can’t see (but we know its true) that everyone is running around them to get ahead, because even the background characters like Natsu and Gajeel (may the dragons bless his sacrifice for the sins of fairy tail) know that they are romantically involved, but the scene cuts to black to see fresh teaming up with stings cat whatever its name (Bradley or doug or something) to save them, but off screen, they literally reach out and HOLD HANDS in the scene. THEY THOUGHT THEY WOULD DIE but their only thoughts were their mutual love for eachother. If that story didn’t make you cry, then I don’t know what did.

But OP I hear some of you asking, if they’re in a relationship, WHY havent they been openly talking about the more intimate side of their relationship? First of all, go reread the manga, second of all, this point is for you. Read Exibit C. Now, I’m sure this doesn’t need any explanation, it’s a completely self-explanatory point. But for some It is necessary, and I shall provide. These two were getting very lovey dovey during a date together, they were going on a walk in the forest and oh my, a river, and how did they get across? Stepping stones! The reason why it says a “Person stepping contest” rather than a “Stepping stones constest” is because of a translation error, no need to elaborate further. Another point to be made, more specific to this panel, is the character in the background, that very few people noticed on their first few reads, is Gandalf! Now, I’ll give you a chance to pick up your phone/ipad/PC/book after you all dropped it in shock, because that’s a lot to take in. But how does it relate to the ship? Well, Gandalf is a very close word to Gander, the word for an adult male goose, which in fairy tail culture is an animal associated with passion and romance, so Gandalfs presence obviously correlates with that. He has appeared in every single manga panel with rogue and sting in the background, further proof that they have a romantic, passionate relationship.

My next point relates to the games, which I have played time and time again just for this one cutscene. During the Mt. Hakobe chapter, the two were forced to travel up the mountain to obtain the fabled dragonberry from the mountain, in order to save Rogues adoptive mother/auntie dragon. The following dialogue ensued, starting with rogue: “Heya fresh, do you think you could pass me the beans? They’re in the backpack” (fresh was in rogues backpack at the time), fresh responded with a mix between a meow and a ribbet, and sting responded with the following: “Hahah, not more beans! It’ll stink both of our sleeping bags up for when we’re cuddled up in the tent!”. Rogue proceeded to blush and a quick time event occurred. Their obvious lovers banter shows more then enough to prove that in the games, both characters are incredibly infatuated with eachother, because as Dr Seuss (with help from me) said: “You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because” “Rogue keeps eating all the beans before sleeping”.

Now my final point in this essay is how syncronised they are. Besides the obvious romantic tension when they do their special move where their massive balls touch (obvious gay symbolism), they’re also syncronised in many other things. Most notably, finishing eachothers sentences, read exhibit D. The example above shows this, where Sting says “Ah!!!” and Rogue finishes it off by saying “!!”, a reference to Stings famous catchphrase, “Ah!!!!!”, but this time rogue added on the last 2 exclamation marks, showing a clear understanding of eachothers speech patterns and mannerisms.

In conclusion, Sting and Rogue are the love of eachothers life, which has been clearly seen throughout the Manga, Anime and Game (s)(?) If you have yet to be convinced by this essay, then I thoroughly recommend you to reread the essay if you aren’t. but if you have been convinced, congratulations, you are officially a stingue shipper, welcome to the club, no, the family. I myself am an honorary member of  the fairy tail community, according to a friend of mine, so I’m qualified to tell you that you will fit right in.

(There was another point to be made about some random person drawing art of the two of them looking at eachothers balls and blushing, but they were mere amateurs without proper understanding of fairy tail as a franchise, so I left it out.)

[sadgirlautumn]

every time I think i've managed to go a day without anxiety it says "haha just you wait!"

[jorvikzelda]

Back at the house with knots in the wooden ceiling. :,)

When I think of jorvikpov and MC’s cottage I think of the knots in the ceiling and the lonely moon shining through the window. It wasn’t always that way. I stayed in this house for the first time in winter 2022. Late at night I would look outside at the moon and stars & then up at the ceiling, just barely illuminated in the pale blue moonlight, and I would feel something still half undescribable. A deep longing for something I couldn’t place and yet the feeling that I was right at home. I think that’s the feeling jorvikpov is made from.

I think maybe I’m beginning to understand what it is I long for. What it is that feels like home.

It makes me emotional that jorvikpov is coming to an end, but I think I’m ready. I think it’s time. I think when I’m done, it’s going to have changed me not in ways I wanted or expected it to but in ways I desperately needed and in all the ways it ever could.

When I’m done, I will be ready to let it go.

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Has anyone ever thought about what could’ve happened if Zoom won in the finale of Flash season two?

Because I have and I’m gonna make it everybody’s problem

[divorcemotif]

"oh hey a real person followed me, I should look at their blog"

soon

"...perhaps I should listen to Eskew."

oh boy you caught my blog after an exciting weekend lmao

I absolutely recommend eskew! I don't have a lot of coherent thoughts, since I got into it over a very physically and mentally draining summer job and have yet to relisten, but it left an impression for sure. I will say what there is of an overarching narrative felt a bit jolty to me in places, for lack of a better term— I think you get the vibe of a show that’s figuring itself out somewhat as it goes, however the ideas are very interesting and I could make a long list of moments that really really affected me. my recent posts probably give a good sense of what I liked most abt it; david ward is just. endlessly interesting as a character imo. the writing’s good— there's a kind of.. ironically humorous edge to a lot of my favourite episodes, something I’d have to relisten to properly articulate. there's a tic of referring to one-off characters by a title instead of a name— the correspondence editor, the architect, the witness— that scratches something in my brain. in contrast with the slimy fleshiness of much of the horror, the sound design is just nice, actually— the rain never stops in eskew and the tone of the narration stays pretty level no matter what’s being described. there are only two narrators and I found both of their voices pleasant enough to close my eyes to on the subway after a long day. very solid show

[pepprs]

crying again lol ok

[hella1975]

forever wishing sam fender would unrelease dead boys

[seven-thewanderer]

I can’t keep doing this.

I lost all the image ids, the images won’t even load anymore, the video wouldn’t even reload

I just want you guys to see this thing I put a month of effort into

And it won’t even work

The previous version’s still broken, promising that it’ll “process the video” but I just know it’s broken and it’s my fault for not saving it as a draft first

Why am I even trying.

It’s not gonna work, it’s never gonna work. It’s not meant to work.

I’m sorry I just…

I give up.