#but we can all go into it knowing we have each other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

no-144444 · 2 days ago

Note

Could you do an smau with Kimi Antonelli where he starts dating Verstappen!reader, and people joke about him dating her for Max because he's always fanboying about Max, thank you!

my brother, or me? -k.antonelli

summary: Kimi joins the grid with your brother, and you two stop posting each other on socials, cheating rumours spark, and your new album coming out doesn't help.

pairing: kimi antonelli x fem! singer! reader (i used tate mcrae as a face and album claim because she's so fucking good)

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youruser

liked by kimiantonelli, mercedesf1team, georgerussell and 4,764,382 others

youruser this is my boyfriend with a) my brother, b) his team boss (😐), and c) his best mate. the other two pictures of him are how he looks at me. the last picture is a representation of how i'm feeling. is it just a necklace?

comments

olliebearman it's just a necklace for me 🤷

kimiantonelli 🫠🫠🫠

mercedesf1team this is so… insane! 😹 -> youruser I CAN GET WORSE!

maxverstappen y/n, what the fuck is this? -> kimiantonelli NOTHING, she's insane -> youruser calling me crazy now? ⁉️ -> maxverstappen he's not wrong to... -> youruser both of you owe me an apology!

mercedesf1team we love kimi- toto -> youruser I LOVE KIMI. HE'S MINE! -> mercedesf1team we can share- toto -> youruser stan twitter will kill you. -> mercedesf1team he's all yours?- toto -> youruser YAY! @.kimiantonelli -> kimiantonelli please don't threaten my boss baby -> user242 why does he never play into her jokes? -> user82 ikr, it annoys me so much! can he not just join her in her whimsy? -> user2824 no, because she's immature and annoying, hope this helps xxxx

user24 Ollie and Kimi are awfully close...

user294 OLLIE AND KIMI PLEASE DON'T PULL A BROCEDES ON ME -> youruser I won't let them 🕺 -> user83 doing the lord's work -> youruser I try 🫶

paularon *honourable mention* the time when you surprised Kimi and Ollie was in his bed ⁉️⁉️ -> youruser better than the time i caught him looking at photos of my brother on pintrest😸 -> user57 he knows it's legal, right?

user855 My FAVOURITE part of Kimi and Y/n lore is that when she first met him she thought he was with Ollie 😹 -> user8356 nah, my fav gotta be when kimi freaked out over meeting max for the first time.

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mercedesf1team

likedby maxverstappen, georgerussell, and 853,847 others

mercedesf1team Rocking up to the paddock in style! 🦘🦘🦘

comments

youruser cutiepie! 🥧 -> georgerussell awh! thanks -> kimiantonelli she meant me?? -> youruser nah, i meant him. HE responds to my texts... unlike someone i know...

landonorris looking sharp

jackdoohan welcome to the homeland :) 🕺

user35 OMG HE'S SO HOT I NEED TO FUCK HIM -> youruser i get it🫠 -> maxverstappen please refrain from ever going on insta again -> youruser WHY IS EVERYONE TRYING TO CALM MY FREAK????

user8 a girl who is going to be ok

user924 YESSSS giving picture day realness!

user247 hamsters -> youruser I didn't see it in the tweet, but I see it with this one -> kimiantonelli ?????🤷‍♀️ -> youruser I'll explain when you get back to the garage -> kimiantonelli 👍 -> user28 they're so in love it genuinely HURTS me

user54975 i need a relationship like kimi and y/n

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youruser

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen, redbullf1team, and 2,763,382 others

youruser promise new music next week, but here's these cuties on the first race weekend of the season! 🏎️🏎️🏎️

comments

user7 P MENTIONNNNN -> youruser obvi, i have to remind everyone i'm the best aunt ever😏 -> user08 oh to be y/n verstappen's niece... -> user924 I WISHHHHHH

maxverstappen who's that strapping young boy? -> youruser if you're talking about yourself... I think we're past young mr. pushing thirty...??? -> maxverstappen no i was talking about kimi :) -> kimiantonelli thanks mate! -> youruser STOP TRYING TO STEAL MY BOYFRIEND FREAK! 🐺 -> maxverstappen *succeeding

user92 THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING

user358 they're both so pookie i cannot

user35 Once again, I ask myself WHY he's with HER. -> user123 ?????? -> user35 She's such a bitch and all she does is make fun of him, it's not cute, nor funny, and she goes around acting like it's hilarious. -> user123 has he complained once? -> user35 Not in public but I assume in private. Shocker that he likes her sister more than her.

paularon Y/n post a picture of herself challenge has been lost again...😔 -> user34 Paul gets it -> user234 PAUL PLEASE SAVE Y/N FROM KIMI -> user5588 ????? -> user234 he's so unwhimsy and boring compared to her, it's so sad how she has to dull herself down for him. 👎👎👎 -> user5588 has she literally EVER been dull? I DON'T THINK SO. -> user385 fr, people in relationships can be different kinds of people and once both of them are happy (which is true as far as we know), then why should we judge?

user995 WHY IS KIMI SO INTO MAX IT FREAKS ME OUT -> youruser THANK YOU -> olliebearman once i asked him if he ever fantasised about max when he was with y/n, he said no but... I didn't believe him.... -> youruser brb bleaching my eyes -> maxverstappen same. -> kimiantonelli NO I'M SORRY I WAS BEING TRUTHFUL I PROMISE 🙏🙏

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kimiantonelli

liked by youruser, maxverstappen, mercedesf1team, and 564,321 others

kimiantonelli Hard to put it in to words. Thank you all for the support xxx

comments

youruser my love 🫶 -> kimiantonelli my everything 🫶

user8 never felt more single in my life!

user554 why are they SO the alchemy coded

user5873 they were so cute then he won -> user248 when he ran out of the car, past his favourite person (y/n verstappen) to hug her brother instead? Or when he finally noticed her and gave her a tiny kiss and hug? -> user57756 become employed 😼

jackdoohan congratualtions mate! 🫡 -> youruser you're next on that podium, i feel it! -> jackdoohan let's hope so!

mercedesf1team Welcome to the family Kimi 'youngest race winner ever' Antonelli! -> youruser I know my goat. 😸

lewishamilton ⭐️

georgerussell amazing work mate -> liked by kimiantonelli

charlesleclerc major drive mate, well done

user556 why is it always about y/n in his comments??? ffs he just won a race!!!!! -> user57557 bc she's more famous than him? bc people care about their relationship? he's not going to pick you when he already has the most beautiful woman on the planet?

user577 WHAT A DRIVE!!!!!!!! -> liked by youruser

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youruser

liked by paularon, charlesleclerc, isackhadjar, and 4,342,249 others

youruser can confirm toto and I were in hysterics. holy fucking shit he won :)

comments

user99 my fav wag

user748 she's so me

mercedesf1team not hysterics- toto -> youruser and who was crying? -> mercedesf1team you u want him to have a seat next year? -> youruser YES PLEASE, I'M SORRY UR RIGHT IT WAS ME

load more comments...

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y/nverstappenHQ

liked by landonorris, kimiantonelli, pierregasly, and 325,593 others

y/nverstappenHQ 'so close to what' out next month, see you there xxx

comments

user5 kimi in the likes, not comments

user3847 OH PREPARE TO BE SICK OF MEEEEEE -> liked by youruser

user735 DIVA DOWN, DIVA DOWNNNNNN 🕺

paularon she's eating the house boots down houston we have a problem (did i use that right?) -> youruser why yes you did king! 👑 -> user835 no way we got paul aron saying THAT before GTA 6. -> georgerussell does anyone understand what any of that was??? -> paularon I'll teach you, just get me a meeting with toto, yeah? -> mercedesf1team I'm interested- toto -> paularon HOLY SHIT THAT WORKED WHAT 😼

jackdoohan the cuntiest of them all I fear -> liked by kimiantonelli

olliebearman WORK IT GIRL!!! 🕺🕺🕺

landonorris oh this is going to go HARD -> youruser you get it, and i appreciate that. 🧡

isackhadjar POOKIE IS EATING AND SERVING CUNTTTTTT -> youruser MY FUCKING BOY 🫡

user348 where tf is kimi rn? -> user2345 probably hyperventilating over his super hot girlfriend 😏

user245 Babe wake up, new y/n music just dropped. -> user348537 I'M FREAKING OUT ⁉️⁉️⁉️

user959 gorgeous gorgeous girls listen to y/n while watching formula one -> oscarpiastri they also listen to her while competing in f1 :) 🧡 -> landonorris HE'S SO DIVAA!!!! -> youruser oscar, i love you queen 🙏👑

christianmansell SLAYYYYYYY -> youruser SLAYYYYYYYYYYY

davidmalukas PRETTY BITCHES LISTEN TO Y/N VERSTAPPEN 💯💯 -> youruser YOU JUST GET ITTTTTTTTTT

maxverstappen please get off this app 👍 -> user475 DON'T SAY SUCH THINGS PLEASE MAX -> user457 older brother core

yourfriend UGH THIS ALBUM 💯💯 ->youruser ugh your gorgeous faceeee -> liked by yourfriend

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olliebearman

liked by paularon, youruser, kimiantonelli and 542,452 others

olliebearman kimi when he finds out about his girlfriend's next album: picture one. kimi when he realises max is free to talk in the paddock: picture two. @.kimiantonelli @.youruser @.maxverstappen

comments

youruser it's a sad truth... he likes him more than me... 😿 -> olliebearman I still love you more than I love Kimi so it's fine. -> kimiantonelli ⁉️🤷‍♀️ -> user385 OLLIE AND Y/N????

user53 ollie is shooting his shot and i do not blame him

user356 when will they just ditch kimi and get together? they were always cuter together anyway? -> user66 SHE'S BEEN DATING KIMI FOR ACTUAL YEARS WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

yourfriend he's a bitch -> youruser PLAY NICE IT'S KIMI! 😸 -> yourfriend ...👎

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isackhadjarprivate

liked by kantonelli, max4verstappen, yourprivuser, and 283 others

isackhadjarprivate us when we hear kimi embarrass himself in front of max AGAIN

comments

yourprivuser ik he's ur grid dad, but let him live @.kantonelli

pauloaron no way ISACK (aka the KING of embarrassing himself in front of Lewis Hamilton) had to call him out 🙏

olliebear the girls are fighting! 🕺 -> youruser he's learning! 👑

estebestie ...

lewishamilton it is pretty bad... 🙈

max4verstappen guys let's not be mean :( -> kantonelli exactly!

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paularon

liked by youruser, kimiantonelli, maxverstappen, and 734,294 others

paularon Us enjoying our time away from our son (aka Kimi, her boyfriend)

comments

jackdoohan MI BABES -> youruser MI JACKIE!!!

olliebearman looking fabulous paulito ->liked by paularon -> user385 MY PAUOLLIE HEARTTTT

user23 still boyfriend??? -> user556 be so fr they deffo broke up -> user323 if they broke up i don't believe in love. -> user345 please get a job.

kimiantonelli invite me? -> youruser i did :( u said no. -> user4 istfg if kimi hurts her i'll CURSE HIM

landonorris stop i want to be your frienddddd -> youruser invite me to mclarennnn bitch

pierregasly looking cute -> youruser why are u in love with paul? -> pierregasly why aren't you?

user555 DID ANYONE CATCH PIERRE'S COMMENT LMAO -> user99 PAULY/N TRUTHERS RISEEEEEE -> user13 he's so me it's crazy

liamlawson the pookie group :) -> youruser you're my pookie

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olliebearman

liked by kimiantonelli, youruser, paularon, and 742,294 others

olliebearman flicks from the past couple races, adios to Y/n and GOOD LUCK ON TOUR!

comments

user76243 so we're not talking about ioio? -> user356 i'm employed what does this mean -> user58583 basically the girl in the middle is a singer (y/n verstappen) and is dating the f1 rookie kimi antonelli, and she just released a song that makes it look like kimi cheated... no one in the paddock or her has said anything so we have no idea if that's actually what's going on

user576 BADDIE ALERT ��🚨🚨

maxverstappen who's the gremlin in the middle photo? -> kimiantonelli she sometimes comes into my garage to touch my hair... freaky. -> maxverstappen she does the same to me... freaky... -> youruser please stop with the joint bullying i just like to play with hair :) -> kimiantonelli weird hobby but i love you anyways so i guess it doesn't matter :) -> maxverstappen as sweet as it is to know my sister is loved, please refrain from doing it on instagram -> kimiantonelli 👍 got it max! -> youruser LET ME BE LOVED OUT LOUD MAX FFS NOT ALL OF US HAVE A FAMILY -> maxverstappen I'm your brother?? -> youruser I don't even know what i meant there??? -> user50 y/nkimi CRUMBS and he's in love omfg they're so cute

jackdoohan how's that hottie in the third slide single? 😏 -> paularon have you seen him and kimi? I wouldn't exactly call him single -> user767 PAUL WHAT DO YOU KNOW?????

user87y/n is GLOWING post break-up. she's seriously so stunning

user75 Y/NPAUL TRUTHERS RISEEEEEE -> user784 I've been here

gabrielborteleto the divas are in town 🙀

liamlawson BADDIE PAUL 😻😻😻 -> paularon "bad crash for lawson, straight into the barriers in the first turn" -> this u? -> liamlawson do you live to humble me? -> youruser I do... 😼

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f1WAGgossip

liked by pierregasly, yourfriend, and 823,392 others

f1WAGgossip Trouble in paradise? Singer/songwriter, WAG to Kimi Antonelli, and sister to Max Verstappen, Y/n Verstappen, recently released a song called 'it's ok, i'm ok', possibly alluding to the idea that Kimi might've cheated on her! They haven't been seen much together, though she has been in the paddock, but now she's going on tour.

comments

user37 y/n nation we ride at dawn

user25 I KNEW PAUL WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER FOR HER -> user5779 0 days since a pauly/n 'truther' has pissed me off. she's clearly better suited to ollie. -> user565 SHE'S DATING KIMI?????

user935 PLEASE SAY THIS IS A JOKE

user2133 finally she's free of him -> user356 ???? -> user2133 i just think they're not right for each other. she's so extroverted and open and he's just so... not. Like he seems extroverted but just not with her, and he seems to not get her humour. -> user84 key word? SEEMS! you know nothing about their private and personal relationship.

user244 PLEASE SAY KIMI IS SINGLE NOW

user73 finally i have a chance with kimi! -> user935 do you enjoy humiliating yourself online?

user358 guys i fear this might be the end of kimiy/n, her friend and pierre gasly liked this... -> user55 ok, and let's be so real, her friend fucking hates kimi. -> user546 maybe she has a reason to? she actually knows him personally????

user3853 my mate is in F2 and knows kimi and said he's been just off his phone for the past few weeks. i think they broke up AGES ago. -> user76 deffo had nothing to do with the fucking F1 season starting up, right? you are a moron, so is your friend.

user46 pierre here for the drama and i respect it

user7835 CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE NEW ALBUM AND HOW GOOD SHE LOOKS???

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youruser

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, olliebearman and 4,342,245 others

youruser holy shit! tour is underway, max actually (WILLINGLY) came to a show, and got p1 the next day! I must be a good luck charm!

comments

jackdoohan might need some of that good luck over here in alpine... -> youruser bro you've had three podiums in an alpine wtf are you on about????? -> jackdoohan how hard did you hit your head last night???

user83 NO KIMI LIKE? IS IT OVER ???? -> user2567 i'm done if they are -> user3678 sleeping on the highway brb!!!

user35702 KIMI IS GONE, PAUL YOU MUST RISEEEEE

user244 OLLIE HAS A CHANCE!!!! -> user7565 yall are crazy they havent even TOLD anyone yet. Just let them live.

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kimiantonelli

liked by maxverstappen, lewishamilton, landonorris and 312,329 others

kimiantonelli Great season so far, up to P2 in the constructors, and P3 in the drivers. Can't wait to go back to racing, but first, some rest :)

comments

user835 not to be chronically online but y/n hasn't commented or liked???

user530 babes... it might be over.

user995 broke up with his sister, but still gotta get max in, i respect the grind.

user123 this is so insane i fear

user92 he looks so sad :( -> user573 he's a grown man -> user83 babe he's 18 and has been dating her for 3 years, it's a big deal

user8357 why isn't anyone talking about his incredible start to the season???

user345 guys i'm so devastated

oscarpiastri Putting in the work mate, good job! -> liked by kimiantonelli

alexalbon Forza Kimi -> liked by kimiantonelli

user3575 if my boyfriend broke up with me, i'd kill my brother for still being his fucking photodump -> liked by yourfriend

user375 ollie still making it into the photodump is so boyfriend coded

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f1WAGgossip

liked by yourfriend, pierregasly, landonorris, and 2,349,924 others

f1WAGgossip Crisis averted! Kimi and Y/n are fine (as far as we know), and he actually visited her at her show last night in Montreal. He surprised her on stage and everything!

comments

user83 I'M SORRY DID YOU SEE THE WAY HE LOOKED AT HER??

user34 she looked so stunning last night, and he was ENTRANCED fr -> user84 i get it.

user75 this is the best news i've had all week, and I passed the bar this week

user457 they're my fav couple -> landonorris same tbh

user450 can we talk about how yourfriend was adding fuel to the flames?? like wtf -> yourfriend lol, my b. kimi pissed me off. He's actually so in love with her it's so annoying and he takes her away from me :( -> youruser I still love you too :)

kimiantonelli People thought we were broken up? @.youruser -> user8435 LMAO -> user47 dude didn't even know -> user57 have you been living under a rock???? -> kimiantonelli No, I've been racing???? -> youruser could've sworn i told you, sorry love :) -> kimiantonelli all goo love. just to check, we aren't broken up, right? -> youruser nope. i'm all yours. -> kimiantonelli 👍 -> user353 why is he a thumbs up warrior?? -> user7565 they're so cute i want to claw my eyes out.

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mercedes & williams masterlist

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sceletaflores · 2 days ago

Text

GIVE IT TO HER LIKE A MAN!

꩜ masterlist ꩜ update blog ꩜ requests ꩜ taglist ꩜

｡𖦹°‧➵ pair: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

｡𖦹°‧➵ wc: 5.1k

｡𖦹°‧➵ contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, no outbreak au, no ellie, joel’s pov, swearing, age gap (52/23), semi-public sex (more of a semi-public ALMOST over the pants handjob?), p in v, clothed sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, hair pulling, spit kink, degradation, pussy spanking, creampie, fucking in your childhood bedroom RAAAHHH, one (1) single line about joel wanting to slap you, one (1) single use of the word daddy, erectile dysfunction? we don't know what that means in this house because that old man can fuck like he's twenty, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

｡𖦹°‧➵ nat’s note: hi babies! i'm back! did you miss me? cause i missed you and oh em gee i'm so excited to be rejoining the party. this actually wasn't what i planned on posting but the angsty joel fic is kicking my ass so hard that i had to take a break from it. i just needed to word vomit some raunchy, freak-nasty porn to cleanse my palate! i don’t normally go for the dbf trope but it's just so joel i couldn't not dip my feet in these waters. it's also more like dad's-close-but-distant-acquaintance-joel because in my head that man has little to no friends honestly. hope you love it, mwah!

dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics!

joel gives the best graduation gifts...

Joel isn’t the type to get invited to these kinds of things.

Graduation parties for Ivy League brats. Champagne in fancy crystal flutes and catered hors d'oeuvres getting passed around on silver trays. Men in loafers and pastel polos calling each other “old buddy” without any irony. It’s a far cry from his usual crowd—his mangy old t-shirt and stained blue jeans stick out in the place like a damn sore thumb.

The invitation came from a distant friend, someone he used to work with before his career took him in an entirely different, much shiner direction. He was here more as a favor than anything else. Tommy’s been worried about him, says he needs to get out more.

“Meet some new people, drink a few beers.” He’d said with his hand clasped on Joel’s shoulder. “It ain’t healthy to spend every weekend fixin’ shit around the house, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t see the problem. He’s fine the way he is. But somehow, he still got roped into going when he could have used any excuse to pull out at the last second. He could have faked sick, faked busy, faked like he had anything else to do besides sit at a fancy oak table on a back porch bigger than the whole first story of his house, decorated in Yale blue balloons and streamers.

He regretted giving into Tommy the second he pulled up in the driveway—a too-big Craftsman style place in West Lake Hills, all clean laid brick and perfectly manicured lawns. Joel couldn’t for the life of him remember why he said yes in the first place. Maybe it was the guilt of worrying his brother. Maybe for the decent catered food and overpriced beers he knew would be there when he first got the address.

What he hadn’t expected—what hit him in the goddamn chest when the door swung open after he knocked—was you.

And Christ, did you look smug about it.

It had been months ago. The only reason Joel was even in Connecticut was to meet with a client, a big time East Coast entrepreneur who wanted a new add on to his ten car garage and was fine slinging around the money to pay for a round-trip flight and a cushy hotel room.

He hadn’t planned on going to the bar that night, but after hours of back-and-forth about permits and material costs, he needed a drink. Just one, maybe two—enough to take the edge off before heading back to the hotel.

It was a shitty little dive about ten minutes from where he was staying. The beer was cold, the lights were low, and he wasn’t supposed to be making decisions with his little head. But then he saw you across the way, right in the middle of the dancefloor.

You were in a circle with a few other girls, your dress riding up higher and higher each time you’d roll your hips to the heavy bass blaring from the overhead speakers.

Joel watched you like that for a while, leaned up against the bar lazily sipping at his beer. He hadn’t planned on doing anything about it, just sat there and enjoyed the view. But you’d caught him looking, and instead of turning away and pretending not to notice, you’d smirked.

Joel should have known right then that he was in trouble.

It wasn’t long before you left your little group and made your way over, slipping on the stool beside him like you belonged there, like you’d already made your mind up about what was going to happen next. You’d leaned in close, close enough for him to catch the scent of whatever perfume you’d rolled over your throat before heading out—something rich and heady that damn near made his head spin.

“Hey, cowboy.” You’d said with a tilt of your head, the long column of your neck dewy with a light sheen of sweat he wanted to feel under his tongue. “You’ve been watching me?”

There was no accusation in your voice, just a quiet sort of amusement, like you already knew the answer.

Joel had huffed a laugh, he didn’t see the point of denying it. He was a lot of things, but subtle wasn’t one of them. “Yeah.” He’d admitted, taking a slow sip of his beer before setting it down. “What about it?”

Your eyes dropped down the length of his body, studying him, and he’d let you. Let you take your time looking, even as heat crawled up the back of his neck.

“Buy me a drink?” You’d asked, smiling up at him like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth.

That was all it took.

One drink turned into two, which turned into three, and then you were leaning into his space like you were made to be there. Your index finger teasingly tracing along the collar of his shirt as you whispered something filthy in his ear that had all the blood in his brain rushing down south.

Joel really shouldn’t have let it go any further than some goddamn footsie under the bar and a few dirty words whispered over the rims of shiny glasses, he was too old for shit like that. But you were just so damn tempting—confident and sharp and pretty as all hell.

Before Joel knew it he had you pressed up against the side of his truck, giggling into his mouth, fingers tugging at his belt like you couldn't get it off fast enough. You’d tasted like the fruity cocktails he bought you and something sweeter underneath, something distinctly you, and Joel had to have more.

You let him have it too—fisting his shirt and dragging him into the backseat without a care in the world, all eager hands and breathless laughter as you straddled his lap.

It was supposed to be just that. A reckless decision with a pretty young thing as the cherry on top of his trip. A one-night deal he’d let himself have because, fuck, it had been a long time since someone looked at him like that.

Joel tried his damndest to think how he should’ve, tried not to let some one off fuck turn him all sorts of ass backwards. He tried his damndest to boot you out of his mind the next morning when he was boarding the flight back to Austin—but you stuck anyway, like a burr in his goddamn brain.

The way you’d looked sprawled out under him, eyes glazed over with pleasure, lips parted, or the way you’d moaned his name like it was a prayer you needed him to hear. The way you’d rode him nice and slow, dragging your nails down his chest just to watch him shudder. The way you’d kissed him after, lazy and sweet, before sneaking off into the night like a goddamn thief.

Joel could've sworn he saw God that night, a smudged silhouette in the fogged up windows of his truck.

And now you’re here, standing in the doorway of some polished, high society home, looking like sin wrapped up in tulle and pearls.

Joel wasn’t a man who spooked easy, but seeing you again, surrounded by people who had no goddamn idea what you’d let him do to you in the backseat of his truck all those months ago, knocked him on his ass harder than a sucker punch.

The recognition was damn near instant, your eyes shining just as much as the sparkly sash that read “GRAD!” in big glittery letters. The initial shock gave way to a tiny, secret smile as your gaze slid up and down his body shamelessly, like this was some kind of funny inside joke.

Joel was seconds away from turning tail, walking back down your ridiculously long driveway and getting in his truck to get the hell out of there, but then your father was walking up behind you with a big grin on his face. He clapped Joel on the shoulder roughly and introduced his “Old buddy Joel Miller from his blue-collar days!”

You were all coy smiles and wide eyes. A sugared, “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. Thank you for coming…” passing through your glossy lips.

The same lips that left shiny red smudges along the skin of his cock when you slid him down your throat, peering up at him with glassy eyes. The memory alone was enough to get heat stirring deep in his gut, and the way you looked at him now—all demure and polished, like you were some angelic scholar fresh off a podium—only made it worse.

Joel is too damn old for this.

“Very top of her class,” your father boasts, swishing his beer bottle through the air towards you flippantly. “Can you believe it? Just think of what we were doing at her age, brother. She sure as hell didn’t get any brains from me, that’s all her mother.”

Joel tries to chuckle with him, but it sounds strained, forced. He keeps his eyes facing forward, knee bouncing restlessly under the table. You’re looking at him again, hot and persistent against the side of his face. The heavy weight of your gaze practically begging him to look back. He doesn’t.

This dinner is it’s own form of torture, because of course, you just had to sit in the empty seat next to Joel—close enough that he can feel your knee bump up against his every few minutes.

He’s done a good job avoiding you until now, always walking the other direction when you waltz into the same room, not making eye contact when your gaze would sweep over the crowd hoping to catch his, trying for once in his life to be a good man.

A good man that suffers through this damn party without doing something he'll regret, that leaves at the end of the night and never has to see you again.

“Yeah,” he says, nervously starting to pick at the label of his own beer. Some snobby, imported New England brewery, probably sixty bucks a six-pack. “Good times.”

Joel can see you lean forward out of the corner of his eye, the neckline of your dress sliding down an inch as you stare at him, attention rapt. “What were you like back then, Mr. Miller?”

Joel nearly winces, his fingers tightening around the neck of his beer hard enough to turn the skin around his knuckles white.

‘Mr. Miller’ echoes in his ears lewdly, blaring like church bells. Your voice is nothing but a honey-sweet mockery, so syrupy he can nearly feel it trickling down his throat to add to the warmth settling low in his stomach.

Your father snorts over the lip of his bottle, answering you before Joel could open his mouth. “Joel didn’t go to college, honey. He went into the trades right after graduation,” he takes a long sip, Joel feels your knee bump against his again. “That’s how we met.”

You hum, nodding your head languidly. “You’re an architect too?”

Joel shakes his head, not looking at you as he answers. “Carpenter.”

Your father launches into some story about his old work days with Joel, about how back in the day, they were “real men” with “real jobs,” but Joel can barely process any of it. He nods along absently, lets out some half-hearted chuckles when he needs to.

Joel nearly puts his knee through the table when he feels your barefoot brush up against his ankle, hiking his jeans up ever so slightly. He shoots you a glare as subtly as he can.

It’s a look so sharp, so warning, that it should be enough to make you back the hell off from whatever game you’re playing. You’re not even looking at him anymore, eyes glued to your father as you nod along to whatever story he’s telling now.

But there’s a knowing little smile on your lips as your hand creeps beneath the table and falls into his lap, the pads of your fingers pressing against the inside of his thigh.

Joel goes still. Rigid as his breath catches on a sharp inhale.

Christ, you’re trying to kill him.

Your father’s voice pulls him out of the silent panic and heavy arousal waging a war inside of him. “How’s business, Joel?” he asks, leaning back in his chair. “You and Tommy still running things at a hundred miles a minute?”

Joel barely registers the question as your hand inches higher and higher. He can hear his own pulse pounding in his throat, in his chest, in his cock, already half-hard in his boxers from some goddamn heavy petting like a wet behind the ears teenager.

“Yeah, we–” Joel pauses, willing his voice to steady with a quick cough to clear his throat. “We’ve been pretty busy with Summer rollin' around.”

Your father hums in agreement, cracking open another beer. “Of course, my schedule’s been a killer too this season,” he brags shamelessly, tone heavy with understanding like he and Joel are in the same boat. Only your fathers boat is a three million dollar yacht sailing for blue-print meetings with big shot celebrities and architectural digest interviews. “It’s a miracle I even had time to fly in for the party, isn’t that right sweetheart?”

Your hand slides up the length of his cock in one slow stroke, your palm grinding roughly over the tip through the tented denim.

“Yes, daddy.”

Your voice has gone all light and airy around the edges, almost melodic as it buries itself in Joel’s ears. At first, Joel thinks you’re talking to your father, but when his eyes flick over to you, you’re looking at him—your eyes half-lidded and sparkling with something dangerous as your fingers tug at the tab of his zipper.

Joel’s hand flies to your wrist, squeezing tight enough to stop your pawing at his now fully hard cock. “Alright if I use your bathroom?” he asks sharply, his voice a little too loud. He tosses your hand away and stands abruptly from his chair before he’s got an answer.

“Of course,” your father says easily, thankfully not noticing the tension at the table, or the way Joel’s trying to subtly hold his hands over his crotch. He turns his attention towards you, “Would you show Joel where the downstairs bathroom is, honey?”

Your smile only widens as you slip your sandal on and calmly stand from your own chair. “Sure,” you say breezily, but you’re not looking at your father, dark eyes still glued to Joel’s. “Follow me.”

The flowy fabric of your dress swishes behind you as you walk through the yard, Joel hot on your heels. He waits until you're both in the house, stepping through the open sliding glass door and out of view before his hand flies to your arm and squeezes hard.

Joel hears you wince softly, but you don’t try to fight your way out of his grip. He leans down closer, his lips inches away from your ear. His voice is low and rough as he grits out, “Take me to your room, now.”

You lead him through the kitchen and up the stairs silently, but Joel can still see the smug smile on your lips as you turn the corner. The need to slap that bratty shit right off your face wracks through him like thunder, anger burning hotter in his chest with every step.

You push the door to your bedroom open and step inside, barely turning to face him before Joel slams the door shut behind him and stalks past you. His eyes are dark, filled with a mix of rage and want as he stares you down.

“Do you think this is a goddamn game?” His voice is teeming with fury, the calm facade he scarcely maintained at dinner now entirely gone. “That you can do whatever the hell you please because your Daddy’s sittin' across from you?”

You bite your bottom lip, leaning against the door with your arms crossed behind your back coyly. “You didn’t bring me a present.”

It’s a taunt if Joel’s ever heard one, and it finally breaks him.

He crosses the room in three large strides, pinning you against the door. His hands on either side of your head, caging you in. Joel cranes his neck down, his face inches away from yours. He can smell your perfume this close, it’s different than what you wore at the bar—something soft and girly and sweet that has his cock straining in his boxer.

“You’re real fuckin' proud of yourself aren’t you?” he spits roughly, watching the way your pupils dilate, eyes going glossy under his intensity. “Does your old man know how much of a tramp his precious little baby girl is? That she’s got such a greedy fuckin' pussy she can’t help herself from rubbin' his buddy Joel’s cock under the table like a desperate slut.”

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly, all the attitude draining from you at the drop of a hat the second he gets a little mean. Your eyes are stuck on his lips and, after a beat, you start leaning in, like you’ll die if you don’t kiss him.

Joel stops you with a hand fisted in your hair, keeping you still a few centimeters away from his lips. A pitiful whine falls from your slack mouth, wide eyes flicking back up to meet his with a pleading look.

“You want me to kiss you, princess?” he asks, mean and condescending. Your breath puffs over his lips, hot and needy as you nod your head as best you can. Joel laughs, dark and cool as he shakes his head slowly. “Whores like you don’t get kissed baby, they get fucked.”

It does something to you—Joel can see it in the way your lashes flutter, in the way your thighs press together, like you can feel his words between your legs. He watches the rise and fall of your chest quicken, the way your lips part as a little breathless sound escapes them, and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

Desperate. Squirming. Ready to let him ruin you.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, low and almost reverent, but the wicked curl of his lips betrays the softness in his tone. “Bet you’re already soaked, aren’t you?”

You nod, your chest rising up to press against his with every breath.

“Words,” he demands, voice sharp as a needle. Your thighs twitch at the sound of it.

“Yes,” you breathe shakily. “I’ve been wet since you got here.”

That has Joel groaning, jaw ticking as his cock twitches heavily in his boxers, pre-come oozing into the cotton.

He doesn’t waste another second. He drops your hair to grab your shoulders, pulling and pushing until you’re tumbling onto your old bed. You let out a sharp gasp as your back hits the mattress, the force of it bouncing you a few times.

Joel looms over you, watching you, finally letting himself get a good look at the picture you make. Splayed across dainty floral sheets, chest heaving, staring up at him with need written all over your pretty face. It practically pumps off of you in waves, he can almost taste it.

Without another word, Joel reaches for his belt, his heavy gaze never leaving yours. The metal of his buckle clinks loudly in the quiet of the room, underscored by the quick pants of your breath. It snaps with how hard he yanks it out of his belt loops, the leather cracking in the air menacingly.

"You wanted this," Joel mutters, popping the button on his jeans, dragging the zipper down with a sharp hiss. "You practically fuckin’ begged for it."

You make a desperate little sound at the sight of his cock finally being freed from the confines of his jeans—thick, heavy, and leaking when it slaps against his stomach. Your legs spread wider like an offering, like you need it in you now.

Joel huffs out a laugh, grabbing your ankle and yanking you down the bed, making you squeak in surprise. He climbs on the mattress, his body completely blanketing yours so you couldn’t move if you wanted to.

His hand drags down your body, over the swell of your breasts, over your ribs, the curve of your hip, until he’s gripping the hem of your dress. Joel slips his hand under the skirt, rough palms gliding up the soft skin of your thighs before gripping the meat of them hard enough to bruise.

The thought of you finding the marks tomorrow, pretty shades of purple and yellow branding your skin as a reminder of this moment, of what Joel did to you—it makes his stomach flip with a sick thrill.

It doesn’t take much for Joel to push the bunched fabric around your hips the rest of the way up, exposing the barely-there scrap of lace covering you.

He makes a sound low in his throat when he sees the little damp spot blooming along the powder blue fabric. “So fuckin’ needy,” he mutters, tracing his middle finger along the wet seam of your pussy, featherlight, teasing. “Can’t even sit through one damn dinner without beggin’ for my attention like a two-bit truck stop whore.”

You nod frantically, lips trembling, pupils blown wide as you blink up at him.

Joel tsks mockingly, raising his palm to give your clothed pussy a sharp slap that has you crying out. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please, Joel.”

Your voice is so soft, so wrecked. And Joel feels himself get impossibly harder, his cock throbbing where it’s pressed against your stomach, blurting pre-come onto the delicate pink tulle of your dress. He can hardly wait any longer.

Joel hooks a finger into the leg of your panties, dragging them down hard enough that he hears a rip. He can’t find it in himself to care, he just pulls them far enough that they pool around your ankles uselessly.

He finally takes himself in his hand so he can drag his cock through the wet mess of your pussy, bumping it up against your hole but not giving you a damn inch. A devastating noise falls from your lips, slow and sweet as molasses, your hips buck up off the mattress, trying to take him in. He presses one heavy hand down on your stomach, keeping you still.

“Ask me for it,” Joel whispers darkly, slapping the head over your glistening clit. “Beg for my cock.”

Your fingers curl into the sheets, frustration and desire burning in the inky black of your pupils. “Please, Joel. It’s all I can think about, can only think about you,” you ramble senseslessly, voice breathless. “About you fucking me. About your cock stretching me open. Please fuck me, please, want it so bad.”

Fuck, he loves hearing you beg.

Joel grips your hips, holding you steady as he presses inside, slow at first, just enough to make you gasp, enough to let you feel how thick he is stretching you open. He curses, head falling forward as he watches himself disappear inside you inch by inch.

Your hands scramble along the length of his back, nails scratching uselessly as you try to adjust to the sudden fullness. Joel knows he’s too big, the stretch too much all at once without prep. He knows it. He just doesn’t give a damn.

“I know, it’s a big stretch ain’t it?” Joel coos, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the skin of your hips. “You can still take it, darlin’. It’s what you wanted, wanted me to lose my goddamn mind and ruin this sweet little pussy.”

You nod desperately, a loud cry bursting from your chest as he pulls you back until his hips are flush with your ass. Your velvety heat feels scalding around him, snug and perfect, like it was made for him—made for his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he stays there for a beat, buried to the hilt—forcing you really feel the full, aching stretch before he starts to move. He drags his cock out to the tip, almost all the way, before slamming forward again, knocking the breath from your lungs. “That’s it—take it all, just like that.”

Joel sets a brutal pace, fucking you so deep he swears he must be in your goddamn guts. His grip is merciless, his fingers digging into your hips as he uses them to pull you back against him, meeting every punishing thrust. The dirty sound of skin on skin fills the room, mixing with the slick squelch of your pussy as it tries to suck him back in each time he pulls out, the pretty soft gasps and moans you’re struggling to keep quiet the cherry on top of it all.

It’s so loud, a symphony of lewd sounds bouncing off the walls enough that Joel would be worried that someone might overhear if your house wasn’t such a maze.

Joel watches you writhe beneath him, your back arching, hands grasping at his shoulders, his arms, his hair, desperate for something to hold onto as he fucks into you with ruthless precision. Every thrust sends a shockwave through your body, makes your breath hitch, your legs trembling where they’re locked tight around his waist.

“Poor thing,” he mutters, voice a low rasp in your ear. “Too dumb to talk now, huh? Just layin’ here, takin’ it like a good little whore.”

Your eyes roll back in your head when he tilts his hips, the new angle forcing his cock to rub up against your sweet spot with every thrust. “Joel–”

Joel leans over you, breath hot against your ear as he mutters, “This what you needed, baby? Needed Daddy’s friend to hike your pretty dress up and fuck you good and hard like this?” He speeds his hips up fast enough to get the bed shaking on its frame. “Actin’ like a spoiled little brat all night just so I’d drag you up here and teach you some fuckin’ manners?”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck—” Your words slur together, breathy and high-pitched, your fingers twisting in his hair as he keeps up that relentless pace.

Joel reaches up to snatch your jaw in a tight grip, the rhythm of his hips never faltering. “Open your mouth,” he growls, fingers digging into the meat of your cheeks meanly. When you don’t, too fucked out of your mind to listen, he shakes your head back and forth like a bad dog. “Open it.”

The command breaks through the pleasure filled haze clouding your mind, and your mouth falls open obediently. Your slick lips parting enough for Joel to see the enticing pink of your tongue. A groan claws its way out from deep in his chest, and he leans down close to spit into your mouth.

Your moan is a high, choked whine as your eyes flutter shut, your pussy squeezing around his cock impossibly tighter.

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ swallow,” he says, fucking into your clenching heat harder. “Hold it right there.”

You open your eyes to stare up at him like he’s some kind of God, your lashes clumped together and glossy with unshed tears—gaze glazed over with a kind of bliss that makes something dark and satisfied wriggle to life in his chest.

“Good girl,” he mutters, barely above a whisper, but the words hit you like a sack of bricks. Your walls squeeze around him, and he groans low in his chest. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you even wider so he can watch the way his cock disappears into your puffy pussy, shining with your slick every time he pulls out. “Look at that. Fuckin’ made to take cock, aren’t you?”

You moan around closed lips, nails digging little crescent moons into his shoulders so hard that he can feel his shirt ripping under the force of it. Joel can tell you’re getting close, your whole body trembling violently as the coil of your orgasm winds tighter and tighter.

“Go ahead and swallow for me, baby girl.” Joel needs to hear you, needs to hear you say his name when you come on his cock. “Wanna hear that pretty voice.”

The sound of you swallowing is music to Joel’s ears, his hips stuttering as he watches your throat work.

“Please,” you gasp, fat crocodile tears rolling down your cheeks. “Need to come, need you to make me—”

“Yes,” he hisses, his thrusts turning sloppy for a beat before he regains his rhythm. “You gonna come for me, baby? Gonna soak my cock nice and good?”

His words push you right over the edge. Your entire body tenses, pleasure rolling through you in a white-hot wave as your climax crashes over you, stealing your breath. You sob Joel’s name, thighs shaking uncontrollably, body shuddering beneath him as you clench down so fucking tight he can barely move.

Joel groans, his jaw going slack as he watches you fall apart, losing himself in the feel of your pussy milking his cock. He grits his teeth, hips snapping erratically as he chases his own release.

“Fuck—gonna fill you up, baby,” he groans, voice wrecked. “Gonna fuck you full of me, make you mine.”

With one last thrust, Joel spills inside of you. He buries himself as deep as he can go, warmth flooding your core as spurt after spurt of come paints your insides, thick and hot. His body shakes with the force of it, a deep, guttural moan falling from his lips as he rides out his orgasm.

Joel just stays there, panting, his forehead resting against yours.

For a moment, both of you are too overwhelmed to move. You just lay on the mattress tangled together in the aftermath, breaths mingling, bodies slick with sweat. Joel smooths his hands up your sides, grounding himself as you both come down from the highs of ecstasy.

When you finally stop shaking, Joel pulls back just enough to look at you, to take in the wrecked, spent look on your face. He brushes his knuckles over your sweaty cheek, softer than before. “Still think I didn’t bring you a present?”

You let out an amused huff, pushing your hands up under the back of his shirt so you can trace the column of his spine with gentle fingers. “Trust me, it’s the only present I’m getting that’ll be worth a damn. Money can’t buy this, Miller.”

Joel chuckles, low and smooth as warmth blooms in his chest. He presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder. “You earned it, baby.”

mini nat's note: thank you so much for reading! mwah.

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cutielando · 23 hours ago

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family anew | lando norris

synopsis: in which you're not used to having a happy family, but Lando changes that for you

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

You had never really been one for family gatherings. Not because you didn’t like them, but because, well, you didn’t have the kind that people looked forward to.

Your relationship with your own family had been distant for as long as you could remember. Calls went unanswered, messages ignored, and when you did see them, the conversations were clipped and awkward, as if you were more of a familiar acquaintance than blood.

So when Lando invited you to meet his family, you hesitated.

“They really want to meet you,” he had said, excitement shining in his blue eyes.

He was lying next to you on the couch, fingers lazily playing with yours. “Mum’s already planning what to cook, and I’m pretty sure my sisters are going to bombard you with questions.”

You forced a smile, nodding, but your stomach twisted with unease. Meeting his family meant stepping into something unfamiliar—warmth, closeness, genuine care. It wasn’t something you were used to.

Lando seemed to notice your hesitation because his grip on your hand tightened.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice softer now. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you admitted, looking down. “I just… I don’t know if I’ll fit in.”

Lando’s brows furrowed in concern.

“What do you mean?”

You hesitated before saying,

“I’m just not used to that kind of family dynamic. My family isn’t exactly close.”

His expression softened even more.

“Then let mine be your family too.”

♡♡♡♡♡

Lando’s childhood home was nothing short of stunning, but it wasn’t the size or the decor that caught your attention—it was the warmth. The second you stepped inside, you were enveloped in it, an energy so foreign yet comforting that it nearly took your breath away.

His mother, Cisca, was the first to greet you, pulling you into a hug before you could even process it.

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you!” she exclaimed, squeezing you tightly. “Lando never stops talking about you.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you laughed softly, casting a glance at Lando, who merely grinned.

“It’s really nice to meet you too.”

His sisters, Flo and Cisca, were next, their enthusiasm making your nerves both spike and settle at the same time.

“So you’re the one stealing all of Lando’s attention,” Flo teased, elbowing him.

Cisca grinned. “Finally! Someone to keep him in check.”

Lando rolled his eyes, muttering, “Oh God, here we go.”

You expected to feel out of place. Instead, you found yourself laughing, being pulled into conversations, and feeling something you couldn’t quite name.

Belonging.

♡♡♡♡♡

Dinner was a lively affair. The table was filled with home-cooked food, and the conversation flowed with ease. Lando’s family wasn’t just close—they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. They told stories, teased one another, and included you in every bit of it.

“Lando was the clumsiest kid,” his mother was saying, eyes alight with amusement. “I swear, he ran into walls more times than I can count.”

“Mum,” Lando groaned, covering his face as his sisters burst into laughter.

Cisca grinned.

“Oh, don’t act embarrassed. You haven’t changed that much.”

You giggled, nudging him.

“That explains a lot, actually.”

Lando shot you a betrayed look, but you could see the happiness in his eyes. He wanted you to be part of this.

You wanted that too.

After dinner, you helped clear the table despite Cisca’s protests that you were a guest. Lando watched you from the doorway, a small smile playing on his lips as you chatted with his sisters while washing dishes.

“You fit right in,” he whispered later when he pulled you aside.

You wanted to believe that.

♡♡♡♡♡

Later that night, you found yourself in the living room, sitting beside Lando’s mother while she flipped through old photo albums. The stories she told filled in gaps you hadn’t realized existed, painting a picture of a childhood so vastly different from your own.

There were birthday parties filled with laughter, summer vacations spent together, Christmas mornings where the entire family piled onto the couch in matching pajamas.

Your fingers grazed a photo of Lando as a child, grinning wildly with a missing front tooth. He looked so happy.

“You didn’t grow up like this, did you?” Cisca asked gently, as if she already knew the answer.

You swallowed. “No.”

She reached over, squeezing your hand.

“Families aren’t just the ones we’re born into. Sometimes, we find them in places we least expect.”

Your eyes stung. No one had ever told you that before.

♡♡♡♡♡

It wasn’t until later that night that Lando found you outside on the patio, staring up at the sky, deep in thought. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Alright, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

You sighed, leaning into his warmth.

“I just… It’s so different from what I’m used to. Your family, they love each other so much. It’s… It’s amazing.”

He turned you around gently so you were facing him.

“And that’s a good thing, right?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, voice quiet. “It’s just hard to accept that kind of love when you’ve never had it.”

Lando cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

“You deserve it. Every bit of it.”

Your throat tightened. “But what if I don’t fit in?”

He shook his head. “You already do. My mum loves you, my sisters adore you, and I—” He hesitated for a moment before smiling softly. “I love you.”

Your heart stilled. “You do?”

“I do.” His voice was steady, sure. “And love isn’t something you have to earn, alright? It’s given. Freely. You don’t have to be used to it—you just have to let yourself feel it.”

Tears burned the back of your eyes, but for the first time in a long time, they weren’t from sadness. They were from something lighter, something warmer.

Maybe love wasn’t something you had to be afraid of.

Maybe, just maybe, home wasn’t a place.

Maybe home was a person.

And maybe, just maybe, your home had curly hair, blue eyes, and a heart big enough to hold all the love you had been missing.

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goron-king-darunia · 1 day ago

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Story time! I thought writing and essays especially were stupid for most of grade school. Teachers would "correct" deliberate choices I made for creative writing and spelling was my absolute nemesis because we didn't exactly have dictionaries in class let alone the internet so I couldn't figure out how to spell words I'd heard and got marked down for using them.

When it came to essays on reading comprehension the questions seemed... How do I put this. I understood solving equations in math. They put a bunch of similar questions to make sure you could get consistent results so they knew you knew the process and not just that you memorized that 2+2 was 4 but weren't grasping somehow that 2 was a unit of two ones each so that 1+1+1+1 also equaled 4. But with reading questions they always seemed... like they weren't testing consistent things? Some questions would make sense like "Why do you think character did X? (Though my ass would get so mad if I got marked down on those because like "You're asking my opinion? You're asking me to interpret the text, the answer should vary?!" Even though I didn't have the language for that.) And then the other half of the questions were the questions I also hated on history tests where it was just memorizing pointless trivia that no human being would need to know like "what color were the curtains in the MC's bedroom?" which is the same shit as like "what happened on the 4th Thursday of May in 1411?" Like bitch, why would I know that? The date isn't as important to history as the actual events so ask me "what was X historical event about?" instead. I can tell you what the Boston Tea Party was about but why the fuck would I memorize the date? "What happened on page 12?" JUST ASK ME WHAT THE INCITING INCIDENT IS INSTEAD, I CAN GIVE YOU THAT ANSWER!

So I grew up putting minimal effort into English class for a while because a lot of the questions were some form of "what is the title of the book" levels of dumb, "give us your pre-approved opinion" frustration questions or the goddamn trap questions of "what was the MC's cousin's name that gets mentioned once in the entire book?" type questions. So I just phoned a lot of stuff in. Made my essays the bare minimum so I could move on to stuff I liked more.

Until about 7th grade when my English teacher made us do daily writing exercises. You had to write 5 paragraphs at least on any topic you wanted and it had to be 5 good paragraphs every day, around 5 sentences per paragraph. And I HATED it. "What do you MEAN I have to write an ESSAY every day?! This sucks!"

But the more I had to do it, the easier it was. Especially when the teacher realized that my handwriting was just not going to improve so I was allowed to write my entries during class but then type them at home and paste them into the book. So then I could actually look up words I wanted to use and learn to spell them correctly instead of having to guess or flip through a big ass book that at best the class had to share during school hours. (Electronic Pocket dictionaries of the 2000s my beloved. I carried mine everywhere when I finally got one.)

And for once I wasn't being graded on if my opinions on fucking Sonic the Hedgehog were valid or not. I wasn't being graded on whether Sonic being blue is actually deep symbolism or if blue is just a neat color. I was being graded on tangible qualitative skills like whether I could construct a good argument and whether my sentences were full sentences and whether all 5 paragraphs related to each other.

And suddenly writing was fun. And when we had free reading periods and could read for pleasure instead of "Okay, pick one of these pre-selected books so you can do a report on it later" I started to enjoy reading too. Enough that by the time I reached high school, I'd picked up Dante's Inferno at the nearby public library and read it on my own only to get excited when the next year it was required reading and I was ahead of the curve because I'd read it once before.

I get it. School is fucking terrible and the measures they use to test when you're "good" at something or not are fucked.

But if I decided to phone it in forever, I wouldn't be able to read through a full news article today or read through contracts and insurance benefits. I would have to trust strangers to tell me the truth on current events and business things. I could be fed easy-to-read lies and swallow them hook, line, and sinker because lies can be as short as you want but the truth is rarely brief.

If I kept phoning things in, I wouldn't have enjoyed half the stories and games that I do, met the friends that I've met, or made the art that I've made.

Having to write 5 paragraphs every day for a year taught me that... 5 paragraphs isn't much at all. Nowadays when I write a "short" story, it's 5,000 words or more. For fun.

I wouldn't know the things I know or how to find out the things I've learned if I just gave up and let the Liar Box with the Fake Answers write all my papers.

I get why it's tempting. School is awful if you're a normal kid, let alone a special needs kid like my ADHD ass. But not only will you not learn very useful and necessary skills by asking the liar box to write your papers, but you're setting yourself up to trust and rely on the liar box, and by direct extension, setting yourself up to forever rely on and trust strangers to give you "correct" information without having any of the skills to learn for yourself if their information is correct.

600 words is not that much. It's a chunk to be sure. But it's not that much.

This is already 1000 words. It doesn't take that long and I promise it's so worth it to be able to express your thoughts in your own words and learn things with your own power instead of having to trust a machine and the strangers that lie for fun to give you the stuff you want to know.

#thanks I hate it #If I could learn to love writing then so can you

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harmonyrae · 2 days ago

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The Voice of the Viscount

Synopsis: Performing at the first ball of the season was your mother’s idea, you had no idea a famous opera singer was in attendance. The real surprise, however, was his praise for your voice. If his compliments left you breathless, his offer could certainly mean your end.

AN: When you see the 𝄞 symbol, click the link to listen to the song. When you see the symbol again you can stop the music. TRUST ME, it’ll give you goosebumps.

Content Warnings: SFW (future works could have NSFW elements fyi), a lot of plot & some cute angst, OMG the FLUFF, death of parental figure mentioned, Regency era terms are used

Word Count: 5.3k

“I can’t believe you’re going through with this.”

Your sister pulls the lacing of your bodice harshly to drive her point home. She’s not wrong, you had successfully delayed your debut a year to help your mother manage the estate and care for Eleanora. But she was not willing to let you delay any further, your “future” depends on it.

“Sera, please. Mama wants - ow!”

Sera yanks the lacing once more and you’re fairly certain you felt a rib crack. You take a deep breath and try to steady yourself against the bed frame.

“Mama wants the estate to stay in the family, I know, I know. And the only way to do so is for one of us to give birth to a boy. Damned corset!”

“Seraphina!”

Your mothers voice makes you both jump. You look over your shoulder to see Sera bite her lip. She gives you a desperate look and you can’t help but snicker, knowing she will be getting an earful.

“Move, I’ll do it.”

Sera happily steps aside to let your mother finish tying your corset. She taps your shoulder and you stand up straight. You brace for another harsh pull, however, you feel your corset loosen instead and you sigh as your lungs expand freely.

“If you’re going to sing tonight, I want you to be able to breathe.”

“Mama…” “Cordelia, you are behind a whole year. You must take this opportunity to stand out. Prove yourself worthy of the Queen’s approval.”

“I already have her approval! The ceremony went well today, didn’t it?”

When your mother doesn’t reply, you look back to see her staring at Sera. While your debut was relatively uneventful, if not a tad lackluster, Seraphina’s was… tragic. You were thankful to be debuting at the same time as your sister, you could share the anxiety and confide in each other. Unfortunately, Sera inherited your fathers two left feet and if you hadn’t been holding her hand, she would have fallen flat on her face in front of the Queen.

“You may suffer from your sister’s misfortune. You both have to prove yourselves tonight and yes, Sera, you must attend. It’s the first ball of the season!”

Sera continues to pin her dark curls out of the way, avoiding her mothers gaze. You turn to face her and lift your arms so she can slip your favorite soft pink dress over your head. The slightly darker pink floral appliques flutter up from the hem and along the sleeves. Your mother tried to get you in a white gown with matching gloves, but you convinced her that you would need to feel comfortable if you were to sing.

You’re not particularly talented, but your voice has always been praised by all who hear it. You grew up singing while Ellie played the piano and Winnie danced. You’ve always loved making your sisters laugh, but even more so since your father died.

“Mama… I might as well sit out this season and try again next year.”

Your mother drapes a necklace around your neck and you turn for her to secure the clasp. You can feel her hands shake and you give Sera a stern look.

“So Mama, how long will we wait for callers in the morning? I am so looking forward to the performance tomorrow night.”

“We shall accept callers for as long as possible. And be sure to tell them you are attending the opera!”

When you heard rumors about a new opera singer joining the company right before the debut of The Magic Flute you were sceptical. Until the papers confirmed the singer was the famous Viscount Rafayel. Gossip was merciless, predictions regarding why he was returning home from Italy after nearly 4 years were salacious to say the least. Did he have an illegitimate heir he had only just found out about? Was he accepting an arrangement? If so, to whom? Was it because of the trouble he supposedly caused in Verona?

“Imagine if you had allowed Cora to audition for the company we might be watching her perform with the Viscount.”

You glare at Sera once again, she’d promised to stop criticising your mother for her hand in ruining your dream. As you grew older you realized she didn’t deny you to be cruel, she was a grieving mother of 5 who needed help. And opera singers have reputations, she wanted something better for you. While you couldn’t imagine anything better than traveling to gorgeous opera houses and performing, you didn’t resent her for it. You slip your feet into your heels and give your mother an apologetic look.

“Sera, stop, not tonight.”

Your mothers voice was tired, strained. Your debut was supposed to be the beginning of the end for her. Once you and your sisters were married, she could finally rest and properly mourn for her husband.

You wrap your shawl around your shoulders and lean down to kiss your mother on her cheek. Her weary eyes brighten and she gives you a small smile.

“I’m going to check in on your sisters and make sure they’re in bed. Then we’ll leave.”

As soon as she’s closed your door you spin around and slap Sera’s shoulder.

“Ow!”

“I told you to stop! Mama has enough to worry about without your snide remarks.”

Sera puts her hands on her hips. You poke her shoulder and she rolls her eyes before turning around, allowing you to fix her hair - the pins already falling under the weight of her curls.

“Can you please put on a happy face and at least try to be cordial tonight?”

Her shoulders slump and she grunts - you assume she is agreeing and let the matter drop. You grab her wrist and hurry down the hall to the entryway to meet your mother.

The Ashby’s always host the first ball of the season, just a few hours after the formal presentation before the Queen. It’s the time for young ladies to present themselves in a more personal manner. Many of them will keep to themselves and focus on filling out their dance card, but those who want to stand out will perform in some way.

You watch Genevive Pearson perform a rather dull piece on the piano and laugh as Lady Ashby drags Isabella Wilton away from the harp. Before you can stop her, your mother tugs on your arm and you find yourself in front of the piano with an expectant audience. You clasp your hands together and curtsy. Your excitement nearly bubbles over and makes you giggle, you cover it up by clearing your throat and leaning over to confirm your name with the pianist. His eyes light up upon recognizing the sheet music with your name on it. You run your hands over the front of your dress and take a breath.

“In honor of the company debuting a new cast for The Magic Flute tomorrow night, I will be performing 𝄞Ach, ich fühl's, Pamina’s soliloquy.”

Whispers breakout amongst the crowd as they step closer. As the first notes ring out from the piano, you can’t help but close your eyes. You feel your cheeks burn as you smile, you’re in your element. You sing with your heart, your hands gently clutching the front of your dress as the heartbreaking words fill the room. When you open your eyes you notice your audience extends to the second floor as well. Your teary eyes blur the features of a particular man leaning over the balcony. You blink several times, finally getting a better look.

Sunset eyes meet yours and they don’t look away, in fact, they almost sparkle when he realizes you’re looking at him. Wispy bangs fall across his forehead, the dark dusty purple color warm under the glow of the chandelier. He traces his jaw with a finger, the silken sleeves of his dress shirt falling down to reveal golden bracelets with large purple gemstones. The golden necklaces around his neck are nearly lost in the ruffle front of his dress shirt. Unlike the other men in attendance, he only wore a waistcoat. Its ostentatious color and gold accents make his narrow waist even more defined. When you finally return your gaze to his face, the corners of his pretty mouth are turned up in a knowing smirk. You instantly close your eyes and put all your focus on the song. 𝄞

The applause is deafening and your cheeks ache from smiling. Lady Ashby’s arm circles your waist and you flinch. She places a hand over her heart and sighs dramatically. You dig your fingernails into your palm, the fabric of your glove barely dulling the sharp sting.

“How lovely Miss Raeton, absolutely divine! I just must know what our esteemed guest thinks of the performance. I am honored that Viscount Rafayel agreed to attend tonight! Surely, the man portraying Tamino himself must have a critique or two.”

Your heart stops, you’re sure of it. You search for your mothers face in the crowd and when you do, her barely restrained anger tells you all you need to know. Lady Ashby requests all of the ladies performing tell her what they intend to do. To “properly prepare” she says. Lady Ashby was told nearly a week ago that you intended to sing a song from The Magic Flute. She would have known Lord Rafayel had accepted her invitation and allowed you to perform anyways. Angeline Ashby stood at the front of the crowd, a smug expression painted across her haughty face. She was behind this, you’re sure of it.

You finally look over at Lady Ashby, whose arm is raised as she points out Lord Rafayel. You follow her arm and as realization settles, you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. The man you’d stared at while you sang, raises his hand and bows. When he stands up straight, his eyes are fixed on you.

“Your performance was captivating. Miss Kingsley is a lovely Pamina, but I do believe I prefer Miss Raeton. It’s a shame I won’t have the pleasure of singing with her tomorrow night. Bravo, Miss Raeton, bravo.”

You’re sure the entire room can hear your heart beating, but you don’t care. A famous, and albeit incredibly handsome, opera singer just complimented your singing. You could feel the hateful glare of Lady Ashby and her daughter, which only made you smile wider.

You rejoin your mother in the crowd and gasp when Sera jumps into your arms. You try to push her away, but she holds onto you tightly. Your mother placers a hand on your back and you’re surprised she isn’t lecturing your sister.

“The Viscount is here! And he LOVED you! Oh Angeline must be beside herself - and at her mothers party no less! This is the best day.”

“Girls, behave yourselves while I have a word with Lady Ashby.”

You watch your mother saunter over to a small group of women, Lady Ashby looks up at her, feigning innocence for the last time. You watch as her face contorts and her cheeks redden. Sera leans against you, linking her arm with yours.

“Should we find Angeline? Compliment her performance as the nastiest –”

Just as you’re about to tell Sera to shut up you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Both you and your sister whirl around and come face-to-face with Rafayel. You instinctively grab Sera’s hand on your arm. You curtsy and cautiously look up.

“Miss Raeton.”

He cocks his head to the side, regarding your sister.

“This is my sister, Seraphine Raeton.”

“It’s a pleasure.”

Sera chuckles and curtsies. Rafayel steps closer, his easy smile sending butterflies fluttering. He leans toward you.

“Might I have the next dance?”

You open your mouth only to close it. Then you open it again, but still completely silent. Sera pushes her elbow into your side and you feel your chest tighten.

“Yes, yes, I would… I would love to, my Lord.”

He extends his hand and you release Sera to take it. He guides you onto the dance floor and carefully places your hand on his shoulder. You curse to yourself, realizing Lady Ashby always schedules the Waltz for the final dance. Rafayel cautiously places his hand on your waist and you force yourself to follow his lead. - years of teaching your little sisters how to dance meant you were usually the one in charge.

“You have a beautiful voice, Miss Raeton.”

You blink, realizing you’ve been staring at his chest instead of looking at him directly. You shake your head and smile, your eyes finally meeting his.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

Rafayel chuckles under his breath.

“I know it’s ‘proper etiquette’, but I would prefer it if you called me Rafayel.”

“I do believe that would get me into quite a bit of trouble.”

“I won’t tell anyone, it can be our secret.”

“Secrets have a funny way of revealing themselves unfortunately.”

“Especially around these delightful people, I’m sure.”

You can’t stop yourself from giggling. He pulls your hand to his chest, his thumb rubs soothing circles over the top of your hand.

“I-I’m looking forward to your performance tomorrow night. I haven’t been to the opera in… a long time.”

“Have you never considered performing?”

You shake your head and stare at your feet.

“I… well, I… no.”

He narrows his eyes and hums.

“Let me guess, your father disapproves?”

Your smile falters, you pray Rafayel doesn’t notice.

“My father loved the opera! My mother just needed me to focus my efforts elsewhere.”

Rafayel looks over your shoulder and when he spins you, you see your mother holding onto Sera. Her eyes fill with tears as she watches you dance.

“I apologize. I shouldn’t assume.”

You shake your head fervently, but Rafayel continues.

“My father passed away when I was young as well. I know the pressure of familial responsibility. I’ve avoided it most of my adult life.”

Your somber expression softens as his smile returns.

“But I could only run for so long. I’m back home, honoring my mothers last wishes that I find a bride and continue our family name.”

“What about your career and Verona? You were about to produce your own opera, no?”

“Oh, rumors do travel fast, don’t they?”

You feel your cheeks flush and you squeeze his hand.

“I apologize, my Lord. I didn’t mean to -”

“Don’t apologize, I jest. However, you are rather lovely when you’re embarrassed.”

You scoff and he laughs, a joyous, carefree laugh that warms your soul.

“I miss Verona and the life I built there, of course. But I can’t put off my responsibilities no matter how unpleasant.”

You nod, your shoulders dropping slightly.

“I understand the sentiment. I was meant to debut last season. My mother allowed me to delay due to my sister being ill.”

“You seem to be close with your sister, Seraphina, isn't it?”

“I am! Oh, she wasn’t… I have four sisters. I’m the eldest, Seraphina was born a year after me. Then Theodora, Winifred and Eleanora. Eleanora was ill, nearly lost her.”

“Is she well?”

You nod and your hand moves from his shoulder to loop around his neck like you’d seen your mother do with your father years ago.

“She is much better. She was miserable without her piano. Now she plays every day after tea until dinner.”

Rafayel’s hand inches around to the small of your back and eases you closer.

“Your family is important to you, your smile is brighter just talking about them.”

“I spent my whole life chasing after my sisters, making sure they were happy and cared for when my mother was taking care of my father.”

You gasp and bring your hand from his shoulder to your lips. The realization that you’d been openly discussing your family's personal matters - your mother would be furious.

“Please, don’t stop, I love hearing you speak about your family. I do have a question, if you’ll indulge me?”

You return your hand to his shoulder and nod.

“What about you?”

Your brows furrow and you search his face for clarification.

“You take care of your sisters, but who takes care of you?”

The heat is nearly unbearable, your stomach flips and you can feel sweat drip down your back. His question has lingered in the back of your mind for years. You always took care of others, pushing your own needs and desires away. You don’t have an answer. Before you melt into a puddle of anxiety, the song comes to an end. You hold onto Rafayel for a moment longer, holding his gaze.

“I’ll ask you again tomorrow night.”

“What –?

“After the performance, wait for me. And I’ll ask you again.”

He lets you go and steps back to bow, you curtsy in response and watch him walk away. If you didn’t have an answer for him tonight, you doubt you’ll have one for him tomorrow. But just the thought of seeing him again makes your heart flutter.

The soothing warmth of your tea could have put you to sleep if Sera wasn’t torturing your scalp with her brushing. You wince as she catches on yet another tangle.

“You look as though you tossed and turned all afternoon. Are you truly so nervous?”

Your mother urged you to take a nap after the last suitor had departed. Even with the curtains drawn and a pillow over your eyes, you couldn’t rest. You were surprised when she finally poked her head into your room to ask if you were awake. She had allowed you to skip tea and brought in a small tray to tide you over while you got ready for the night. You sip your tea and eye the lemon tart she brought.

“Cora, eat something. Do you want to faint in front of your lover?”

You glare at Sera through the mirror and watch her erupt into a fit of giggles.

“I’m sorry, but you and Lord Rafayel seemed quite cozy during your waltz. His wandering hand was –”

“His hand was not wandering!” You interrupt her, causing her to laugh louder.

“No? But your hand certainly was. Holding onto his neck in front of everyone. I had no idea you could be so scandalous, dear sister.”

You reach back and grab the hairbrush from her before standing to usher her out of the room. You ignore her protests and shut the door, promptly silencing her. You return to your dressing table and immediately reach for the lemon tart, stuffing it in your mouth. You nearly choke when you hear a soft knock at your door.

“Sera, I’m getting ready on my own.”

Another soft knock. You stand and slowly walk to the door, chewing furiously. When you swing open the door, Eleanora smiles sweetly holding a small box in her hands. You drop your hand from over your mouth and cough as the sour lemon custard hits the back of your throat. You open the door and motion for her to come in.

“Is Sera teasing you again?”

Her dimples deepen as she watches you roll your eyes, confirming her suspicions. She holds out the small box.

“I only wanted to give this to you before you leave.”

You squint at the box, carefully taking it from her. You give her a look and she nods, urging you to open it. You examine the small box and realize it’s the white and gold music box your father gifted her when she was 5. You open it and find a pair of opera glasses.

“Ellie, I can’t…”

“Mama said she got a private box just for you.”

She pokes your cheek.

“I want you to use them. Father wouldn’t want them sitting in a box collecting dust.”

You cough to cover up the choked sob threatening to burst through. Picking up the ornate opera glasses, you look at Ellie through them and gasp dramatically. She jumps and her lip starts to quiver.

“What’s wrong? Are they broken?”

“No, I just see the cutest and most admirable sister known to man. It’s quite a sight.”

She slaps your arm and you pull her into a hug. She squeezes you tightly before pushing you away, pointing at your dress hanging on the dressing screen.

“You should get ready, Mama is already calling for the carriage.”

She skips out of the room and closes the door, leaving you with your thoughts. You examine the opera glasses in your hands, admiring every detail. You know your father put a lot of thought into picking this pair. You sigh, setting them down on your dressing table to focus on getting ready.

Thankfully, Sera had already tightened your corset before deciding to irritate you, so the difficult part was over. You run your hands over the dress, the pink satin was soft and shiny. You slip it over your head and fluff the skirt, which is wider than most of your formal dresses making you feel like a princess.

Your mother arrives to lace up the back and thread pearl-like beads through your curls. She disappears for a moment while you clip on your earrings and straighten your necklace. She returns with a small bottle of perfumed pomade. She silences you with a single look and you lower your head to let her twirl your curls with the scented pomade. You take a deep breath, the sweet scent of orange blossoms instantly calming your frayed nerves.

The carriage ride was quiet, Sera had apologized for her teasing and swore she would be pleasant for the rest of the night. While you didn’t doubt her resolve, you watched her fiddle with her dress and stare out the window with disdain. You both loved the opera, but she hated dressing so formally - especially two nights in a row.

The opera house was crowded. You chuckled, watching young ladies hold onto their mothers as gentlemen tried to woo them with their knowledge of the arts. A few suitors had tried this tactic with you just this morning. Sadly, they only embarrassed themselves when you had to correct them. Your mother scolded you for doing so, but you didn’t miss the amused look on her face.

A young man shows you to your box and your heart soars as you take in the view. You could see the whole stage and the orchestra pit. Sera plops down onto her seat and reaches out for her mothers hand.

“Mama, may we have champagne during intermission? Certainly we’re old enough.”

You watch her squeeze Sera’s hand and nod. You realize her sights are set on you, her eyes brimming with tears. You reach out your hand and she takes it, holding onto both of her daughters.

“Thank you Mama. Tonight, it’s… it’s perfect.”

“The show hasn’t even started yet!”

You almost kick Sera, but remember yourself. While those seated on the floor couldn’t see you, the other attendees in the boxes could. Instead, you give her your signature glare and she looks down at her lap. The orchestra begins to play a rendition of the opening number and you quickly take your seat, the show is about to begin.

The performance begins and you’re transported to another world, a world where the Queen of the Night and high priest Sarastro are forever at odds. The set is extravagant, the costumes intricate and perfectly tailored. But nothing could have prepared you for how gorgeous Rafayel was as he walked on stage. His voice is light and comical, captivating the audience with ease. His voice effortlessly harmonizes with the other performers, sending shivers down your spine.

Tamino is presented with a picture of Pamina and he sighs, holding it up. You bring your opera glasses to your eyes, your heart pounding as he begins to sing𝄞. His face relaxed, his eyes closed, the words of affection for his beloved flowing so easily from between his soft lips. And then, they open and you nearly drop the glasses - he’s looking at you. Your cheeks flush and you lower the glasses to your lap.

His body almost floats across the stage, his hands clutching the photo, but his eyes locked on you. He sings to you, his ears turning red as the words become more intimate.

“Could this feeling be love?”

It sounds more like a statement than a question. A tear slips down your cheek as he sings the final notes. He doesn’t look away, making Tamino’s promise to rescue Pamina while looking up at you. For the rest of Act I you feel as though you’re paralyzed, your body lighter than a feather, the fluttering of the butterflies in your stomach nearly lifting you off your seat. 𝄞

You paint on a smile during intermission and barely take a sip of your champagne. Sera praises Rafayel’s voice and the orchestra while your mother keeps a hand on your arm. The expression on her face is unusual as she watches you, something between joy and concern. You’re about to ask her what’s wrong when the music begins again, urging the audience back to their seats.

Act II is just as extraordinary, Rafayel’s Tamino longs for Pamina, holding true to his vow of silence. As Pamina sings you’re taken back to last night, Rafayel holding your waist, his smile, his question. Only when Sera’s hand taps your shoulder, urging you to stand, do you realize the cast is bowing. You watch the curtain close and lean close to your mother.

“I thought I might take a moment, when the hall is clear, to get a closer look at the stage? I’ll join you at the carriage after the stage lights are put out.”

You’re expecting an argument, but she nods and releases your arm. Sera gives you a knowing look and takes your mothers hand.

“Let’s get another glass of champagne!”

“Seraphina, don’t speak so loudly. We don’t need rumors that you're drunk.”

Sera only laughs and leads your mother to the front hall. You make your way to the main floor and quietly slip into the audience chamber in front of the stage. You clasp your hands together and slowly approach. Your heart pounds, there was a time you would dream of standing up there.

“Would you care to join me?”

You jump and spin around, searching for Rafayel, his voice unmistakable. A loud swoosh makes you turn around, the curtains slowly opening to reveal Rafayel standing center stage. You look up at him, his radiant smile immediately taking your breath away. His dress shirt is unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You can see a thin veil of sweat across his chest. His hand extends towards you.

“Join me?”

“I – how?”

“I can lift you. Just take my hand.”

You must have gone temporarily insane… You take his hand, he lifts you onto the stage and you squeal at the sudden weightlessness. Rafayel walks backwards, leading you to center stage before releasing your hand. He looks over your shoulder and you hold your breath as you turn around.

You’ve dreamt of standing on this stage since you were a child, but nothing compares to the real thing. Rows of plush seats, private boxes lined in gold, crystal chandeliers, you let out a shuddering breath. Rafayel steps up beside you.

“Is it everything you thought it’d be?”

“And more…”

He steps forward into your line of sight, drawing your attention back to him.

“Do you have an answer?”

Staring at your feet you turn.

“My Lord, I –”

“Rafayel.”

You glare at him, but he only laughs. He bows.

“Apologies. Do continue.”

“I… I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for you.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but you lift your hand and he pauses.

“My mother and father raised me well. I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I enjoy caring for my sisters and I take care of myself.”

“‘Need’ and ‘want’ are very different, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod and he takes a step closer.

“I have no doubt you can take care of yourself. But what if… what if I wanted to?”

Your eyes widen, you expect to see a smirk or mirth-filled eyes, but instead his gentle expression conveys his seriousness.

“You want to do what?”

“Take care of you. Give you a life where you don’t have to do anything unless you truly want to. To stand on a stage, to sing, to dance, to travel, to just be… you.”

Your mouth falls open, but words won’t form. He steps closer still, an arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you to him. You rest your hands on his forearms, his skin warm beneath your trembling fingers.

“We’re similar, you and I. We have responsibilities we can’t ignore, but wild spirits aching for freedom. I’ve never had to restrain my spirit until now, but you… You haven’t been afforded the opportunity. I want to give you that. No… I long to give you that.”

Your knees threaten to give out, but his hands hold you steady.

“Oh my goodness!”

You spot Lady Ashby in the aisle, her judgemental eyes completely focused on you. A sinister smile threatens to ruin her performance. You tear yourself away from Rafayel and cross your arms, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“I was just returning to fetch my shawl, I am simply stunned to find you, Miss Raeton, alone with Lord Rafayel. I never expected such behavior from you Cordelia. Apologies, Lord Rafayel, allow me to escort her.”

Your mind swirls with accusations. Rumors would spread, how you seduced the Viscount, probably for his money - even though your family was well off. The more prudish noblewomen would condemn you for involving yourself with an opera singer. Critiquing his lifestyle and how you must involve yourself in similar questionable activities. Your sister's prospects would be affected. You’re so consumed with fear, you don’t realize Rafayel has approached the edge of the stage to speak directly to Lady Ashby.

“Lady Ashby, I was so hoping I’d have a chance to speak with you again. I believe I found the perfect job for you. One that will properly utilize your gift of gab that is surely more profitable than your current position as a busybody.”

Lady Ashby’s smug expression morphs into shock as she processes Rafayel’s words. Her cheeks redden as she stumbles forward, eager to reply, but Rafayel beats her to it.

“And your daughter, Miss Ashby, I do believe she missed her calling to be an actress. The performance she put on to explain the mark on her neck when I found her returning from your garden last night was impressive.”

Lady Ashby’s mouth promptly closes, her jaw twitches and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from doubling over. You’ve never seen her look so angry before. She curtsies and doesn’t say another word, leaving her shawl behind to leave as quickly as possible. Rafayel turns back to you, a smug grin proudly displayed.

“That should keep her out of our affairs.”

He walks up to you, but doesn’t try to touch you - much to your disappointment.

"I'd like to promenade through the park with you tomorrow. To prove my intentions.”

You nod, laughing under your breath. Rafayel smiles and offers his arm. He leads you down a narrow hall and through a door leading you back into the main seating area. He leans against the doorway.

“I shall see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Cordelia.”

He backs up through the doorway and you wait until the door is fully closed before giggling into your hand. Hearing him say your name made you lightheaded. And he wants to promenade with you? Forget the promenade, his offer was essentially a marriage proposal. You know Rafayel will follow proper courtship etiquette, he was raised in high society after all. But you could never have imagined that he would choose you.

♡♡♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.♡♡

AN #2: These are one-shots unless y'all like them. I'll go through the other guy's stories first and circle back if that's the case. Hope you enjoyed it!!

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @alastor-simp @drama-trauma @0tterteeth @mysticcollectionvoid @godzillaglitter @godoffuckedupcats @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname @hauntedbysmut @withering-dream @lostwingz2236 @simpfortheseven @stellar-seas @kiude @tati-the-fangirl @mtcozylove

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corevibeself · 2 days ago

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𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑁𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝐴𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝐴𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓? (PAC)

How to pick a pile: Take a deep breath to ground yourself; once that's done, look at the images below and pick which image you feel most drawn to. This is usually the first one we pick! If you feel drawn to more than one, that is entirely possible, as there may be more messages for you there!

Remember, these are general readings; the messages may not all be for you. Take what resonates and leave the rest <3

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑷𝒊𝒍𝒆 1 ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆

𝖠𝖿𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎: "𝖨 𝖺𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾"

For you guys, I feel like there’s a need to appreciate just how much you get done and how bravely you push forward. You move through life, accomplishing so much, but you don’t always stop to acknowledge how far you’ve come. It’s like you’re running on autopilot, constantly moving without realizing all you’ve done.

I got the bee card, and I just saw the funniest thing. You guys know how bees have such a short lifespan and just fucking die once they’re done working? That’s the energy I get from you. It’s like, “My work’s done, finally—death.”

Like pause.

You are such a beautiful, sensitive, and creative soul. I feel called to tell you that your ideas aren’t crazy or far-fetched. Whatever you’ve been wanting to do—whether it’s a hobby, a career path, or just a random idea—trust it. Be more confident in those urges, in those moments of inspiration, because they’re leading you somewhere. And if you feel fear around them? That just means they matter to you. Fear wouldn’t be there if you didn’t care.

I also feel like some of you don’t fully see or appreciate your impact on the people around you. Worker bees all look the same, right? But each one pollinates a flower, helping the environment. The honey they make is so delicious it brings happiness to the world—it impacts cuisine, and even health. You have no idea how much every thought and action you’ve had has made a difference in the world around you, because I just saw a vision of someone walking down the street and smiling as they crossed a stranger, and that smile might've meant the world to them at that moment.

I feel called to say you might have doubts or insecurities about your purpose. Maybe it’s not as clear or as big as you think it should be. Maybe you even doubt whether you have a purpose at all. But let me tell you: your purpose isn’t just one thing. It’s not some huge accomplishment meant to look a certain way. It can be, but don’t expect it to be. Your purpose is you. It always has been and always will be. You’re a blank canvas meant to be painted by yourself, not by others.

I also want to say—you might not realize just how good of a friend you are. You’re kind, sensitive, understanding, and so loyal. You’re the person people go to when they feel bad because you know how to hold space for them. Not only that, but you recognize when someone truly needs support, and because you’re intuitive, you also know when something is too much for you to handle emotionally, but that doesn't stop you from helping, because I also see that some of you can have some selfless tendencies, so take care of yourself.

I saw a picture in my mind of someone laughing while everything is falling apart. Honestly, that could be your genuine reaction when things feel like they’re crashing down. But another message I got? You spark change in the people around you—just by being who you are. You might have these amazing ideas for people, and they’re like, “Oh my god, that helped so much!” And you just say thanks—but you need to fully bask in that appreciation.

See your creativity. See your determination. See the change you bring to your environment. See how far you’ve come.

My little worker bee, you are so much more than you believe you are.

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑷𝒊𝒍𝒆 2 ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆

(this affirmation came out for pile 1, so if you were attracted to pile 1, there may be messages for you there too!)

First off, can I just say—you’re a literal baddie. Like, you’ve got your shit together, even if it doesn’t always feel like it. Because what I’m getting is that you’re a dreamer, pile 2. You might take your sweet time getting where you want to be, but you do it with such grace that I just feel like applauding you.

What you need to appreciate is your sheer dedication to following your dreams. It’s grounded in reality because you take your time—you’re not in a rush like others. You sit, contemplate your next moves, and don’t feel pressured to move the way everyone else does. You’re independent and self-reliant, and that energy radiates. I’m seeing someone looking at you and thinking, “She’s really got her shit together.” That’s what you’re not seeing about yourself.

We live in a society that expects independence, but so many people struggle with it. This isn’t to say you haven’t faced your own challenges—you have—but you handle them so well. Some people hit setbacks and give up, but not you. You keep pushing forward because you’re a boss. I see someone who always gets invited out to parties, but you’re focused on your goals. You prioritize yourself. You set boundaries. And you do it with such conviction that no one would ever guess you’ve had doubts or setbacks. But you believe in yourself enough that fear doesn’t stop you. You are your own clutch, pile 2.

I pulled the frog as your animal card, and when I felt it out, I had this vision of how frogs eat. You know how they wait—calm, patient—letting the bug come to them? They stay perfectly still, knowing their moment will come. That tells me you make things happen even when it seems like you’re doing nothing. It could also mean that an opportunity you’ve been waiting for is about to fall into your lap. So if you’ve been waiting on something, take this as your sign!

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑷𝒊𝒍𝒆 3 ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆

𝖠𝖿𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎: "𝖨 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗀𝗇𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿, 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅."

My pile 3s awhhh :( ngl I teared up.

You need to appreciate just how beautiful you truly are. This honestly breaks my heart—I can feel it, literally feel how pure you are. I know all we want is to feel worth it, to feel valued, but pile 3, you're not just some average-looking NPC (no one is). You need to stop comparing yourself to everyone around you because you're you. You’re not broken. You weren’t made wrong. You’re not different in a way that makes you an outcast or someone unworthy of love. That’s not the truth.

I love you, and I don’t even know you. So chin up, buttercup.

I know it can feel like the weight of the world is pressing down on you, but the cards are practically begging you to see your value—because you are the one with the power to change how you see yourself. No one else can do that for you. No amount of compliments will ever feel real if you don’t let yourself believe them. So what’s stopping you? Are you your own worst bully? Does self-hate feel more comfortable than self-love? Does accepting kindness make you squirm?

Pile 3, I need you to sit with that. Shadow work is calling. Because no matter how much I wish I could shake you and make you see your worth, only you can do that.

Look in the mirror—really look. The person staring back at you deserves your kindness. They deserve to hear something nice in the morning. They deserve to see a radiant, joyful smile looking back at them.

I won’t sugarcoat it—you may have been through heavy, painful experiences that shook your sense of self-worth. Maybe you’ve been bullied. Maybe you’ve seen or felt things that made you question your place in the world. But you know what’s incredible about you? Even after all of that, you still see the beauty in others. You would never judge someone’s appearance. You would never call someone ugly. Because you know how that feels.

So why not treat yourself with that same grace? Why not be your own friend?

I pulled the Peacock card for you, and the first thought I had was—you know peacocks never see their own feathers? Yet they are some of the most majestic creatures in the world.

Pile 3, that’s you. You are beautiful. You are radiant. You are fucking majestic. So act like it, dammit

______________________________________________________________

Thank you so much for reading!!!I love doing this hehehe, if it resonated, feel free to tell me all about it! I'd love to hear what you guys have to say <3

#tarot reading #tarotcommunity #pac reading #pick a card #pick a pile #eclectic witch #tarot #intuitive readings

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itsraceweekbitches · 20 hours ago

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JUST HOW FAKE ARE WE?

summary: Your so-far-successful fake relationship with Max takes a different turn in Monaco. But how far will things go eventually? ✤ pairing: Max Verstappen x reader ✤ wc: 3.2k ✤ tags: fem!reader, marriage talks, fake relationship, teenage crush, excited-puppy-in-love!Max ✤ note I'm a goddamn idiot who deleted it, so here's the repost.

[march 2025 – australian grand prix]

The media is having a field day with your suddenly revealed relationship with Max, who seems to enjoy this show a little too much. I’m bored, it’s fun, and it’s absolutely no big deal, he said.

And he clearly means it, because he doesn’t let go of your hand when you’re walking down the paddock together for the first time on Saturday, and he always makes sure he has a hand on your body, or places a kiss on your cheek whenever there are cameras around.

The inevitable happens shortly before qualifying, when the first article about the two of you is published on a well-known gossip site. And then comes another. And another. Followed by social media posts and video edits by fans. The fans are obsessed with this turn of events.

Some immediately catch on, stating that there is no way this relationship is real, that it’s nothing more but a decoy. They’re right, of course, but lucky for you, there are many more fans who believe the lie. Some even uncovered a few photos from the boys’ karting days, ones where you and Max can be seen together talking, laughing, and even hugging.

Charles has been apologizing non-stop, telling you he feels guilty since the press got the conversation from his account, and he even believes he shouldn’t have joked about it at all.

Now Max is attending an emergency meeting to discuss how to handle the situation, while you’re hiding in his driver room, talking to Charles who has already returned from his own emergency meeting.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Charles tells you during your video call, although you can see the doubt in his green eyes.

With a groan, you lean back on the bed, but you can’t calm down, you can’t think clearly, not when your brain is in overdrive by the fact the whole room—and especially the pillow—smells like Max. You’re not used to being surrounded by this scent, and it feels like you’re invading his personal space.

And the decorations keep reminding you that you’re not at Ferrari anymore, that this is uncharted territory, something you know nothing about yet. Sure, you will have to get familiar with things here, but you are still feeling out of place.

“I know it’s not the end of the world,” you finally speak up, “but now we dragged Max into this, and—”

“Hey, no, no, no, he volunteered. We didn’t hold him at gunpoint.”

You roll your eyes, then give him a look that immediately silences him, and his lips are pressed into a thin line as he forces himself not to go on. You’ve known Charles literally your whole life, you know each other like you weren’t just best friends, but siblings who are stuck together.

“I’m just worried he’ll get into trouble because of me. You should have seen the faces when I showed up in Red Bull territory this morning,” you note with a grimace.

The most shocking moment was running into Christian, who watched you with narrowed eyes, as if he was thinking about what ulterior motive you had. If he only knew the truth…

On the other side of the line, Charles lets out a heartfelt laugh. “You as a corporate spy… Nah, you would suck at that,” he points out, then takes a deep breath. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Here you go again, he’s apologizing once more, and probably not for the last time. You wish you could go over to him and give him a big hug, then play video games until you both fall asleep. Like in the good old days.

After shaking your head, you sit up and lean your back against the wall behind you. “Charles, it’s not your fault. And I could never be mad at you, you know that.”

You want to go on, just to make sure he understands that there’s no reason to blame himself, but you’re interrupted all of a sudden.

“Honey, I’m home,” you hear Max’s familiar, cheerful voice from the door when he enters the room. “Oh, I didn’t know you were talking to someone,” he says when he comes to a halt in the middle of the room.

You flash a smile at him and shake your head. “It’s just Charles.”

“Just Charles?” the Monegasque asks with a roll of his eyes.

Before you know it, Max kneels on the edge of the bed, and leans down to press kisses all over your face, a move that brings a stupid giggle out of you. “She’ll call you back, now she’s all mine,” Max announces when he looks at the camera for a second.

It’s hard to miss the expression on your best friend’s face, the way his nose scrunches and he acts like he was about to throw up. “Disgusting,” he notes.

Next to you, Max doesn’t seem bothered by that, if anything, it just makes him more smug than he usually is in your company. “Screw you. I can shower my girlfriend with kisses anytime I want.”

“Since when?”

You let out a tired sigh as you push the man on your side away before he can give you another kiss on the cheek. “He’s been like that all day, he thinks he’s funny,” you tell Charles with a shake of your head.

“I’m hilarious,” Max corrects you as he lies down on the small space on your side. “And since we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, it’s only natural to act like this, no?”

“Only in public.”

“If you touch her in an inappropriate way, I’ll push you off the track tomorrow,” Charles warns him.

Instead of being scared, Max only lets out a carefree laugh. “You’ll have to get close to me first.”

When you turn back to the phone, you can see that little shit kind of grin on your friend’s face. “Your car sucks this year,” he notes happily. “Anyway, I have to go. Talk to you later.”

You wave him goodbye, then end the call with a sigh.

“So does yours,” Max mutters under his breath, even though Charles isn’t there anymore.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, then blow it out slowly to calm yourself. Soon this will pass, soon you’ll be free again. Until then, you’re stuck here with the Dutchman, who happens to act like the perfect boyfriend.

When you look over at Max, you notice that he’s staring right back, as if he’s been watching you all this time. But what if he has truly been watching you? There’s something in those blue eyes you can’t quite place yet. It’s something you’ve never seen before, an emotion that’s completely unfamiliar, and maybe even a little unsettling.

Before you could say anything, though, he grins at you then rolls off the bed, heading to the mini fridge in the corner to get a Red Bull out for himself. He asks you if you'd like one, but your heart is already racing, an energy drink is the last thing you need.

Just two or three more races. The storm will end, and you can all go back to your everyday lives.

[may 2025 – monaco grand prix]

Over two months later you’re still pretending.

And now it’s time for the most important race of the season: the Monaco Grand Prix. Charles’s home race. The one you want to watch from the Ferrari garage along with his family you’re so close to.

But first, it’s time for dinner with Charles, his mom, and Alex, to which Pascale invited Max too. If Charles brings his girlfriend, you should bring your boyfriend too, she said. And who are you to say no to your second mother?

Later in the afternoon you’re trying on dresses in your family’s penthouse, happy that they are away with their friends until Saturday since Max decided to jump in and pick you up. He arrived early–like, two hours early—so now he’s the one rating your outfits.

“The color is nice, it suits you, but the shape is terrible,” he comments as he holds up the makeshift rating card, a smaller whiteboard he writes his points on.

Six points. Okay, this goes back to the walk-in closet, but you only leave after sticking out your tongue at him, because you love this dress so much that hearing it doesn’t look good on you physically hurts.

Three more outfits later he lets out a groan and jumps up after tossing the whiteboard to the other end of the couch. “I have an idea,” he begins as he follows you to the bedroom for whatever reason.

“I’m not gonna wear jeans with a Red Bull Racing shirt, forget it,” you point out without looking back at him.

“What? No, I’d rather you wear that when you’re with Ferrari this weekend.”

You spin on your heels to look at him, and sure enough, there’s that cheeky, boyish grin you were expecting. But how does he know about your plan to spend the weekend on Charles’s side of the paddock? You never mentioned that.

To your surprise, he knows perfectly well what’s going on inside your head. “What? You thought I wouldn’t know that this weekend is special? I discussed this with Charles a while ago, everything’s ready for you,” he tells you casually.

“Thank you. So, what do you have in mind, then?” you wonder as you walk closer to him.

Max lets out a thoughtful hum as his eyes sweep over your body, as if he was making this up on the spot. “Well, I would suggest jeans and a Simply lovely shirt, but no, I have a better idea. I have a surprise for you in my backpack, give me a sec.”

You watch him rush out of the room with a frown on your face, wondering what the hell is happening here. Max being nice and thoughtful is nothing new, but today it just feels different, like something has shifted in your fake relationship.

To be honest, you may have been thinking about him more than you probably should, even when he’s not around. You find yourself opening the messaging app you usually use, typing some words before changing your mind and deleting them. Or other times your finger hovers over the screen as you wonder if you should call him or not.

You’re kind of afraid of whatever that means. Is this more than just pretending?

At this point, you can’t help but wonder if it’s time to put an end to this. By now the press moved on, focusing on other drivers’ relationships instead of yours. It’s yesterday’s news, and everybody knows Charles and Alex are back together, and that they’re happier than ever. So what’s the point of this? Nothing.

Yet…

“Before you ask, I cheated and asked Charles to somehow get me what size you wear. Apparently Alex straight-up asked you, so,” he begins with a sheepish smile as he holds up a dress.

It’s a beautiful dark blue cocktail dress, which somehow didn’t have any wrinkles on it despite spending God knows how much time in that backpack. You don’t even know what to say, mostly because this gesture only proves what you’ve been suspecting about this certain shift you’ve noticed.

“You don’t like it.”

Your eyes move from the dress to your fake boyfriend, and you don’t hesitate to shake your head. “No, it’s beautiful. I just… Never mind. Thank you.”

Max lets out a sigh as he places the dress on the back of a chair. “Listen, I can see something’s bothering you. What is it?”

What are you supposed to say to this? That your brain is wandering to places you don’t want to explore?

“I’ll try on the dress, so could you wait outside?”

Nodding, Max gives you one last look, then leaves the room without a word. That’s the last time you speak until you meet the others, and even then, you keep an unusual distance. For him, it’s about being cautious. For you, it’s about making sure you make a fool out of yourself.

Charles, of course, notices the change in the atmosphere right away, and he even pulls you aside to start questioning you. But, even though he has known you since you were born, meaning he could probably give you some advice, you decide to lie and act like it’s nothing.

But it’s not nothing.

Your eyes keep finding Max throughout the evening, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going on in his head. Does he have the same thoughts? Or is he desperately waiting to be free of you? It’s hard to tell.

Just as you planned, you spend the weekend with Charles, arriving at the paddock with his family, staying in Ferrari territory just to be safe. Safe from Max. Safe from your thoughts. Safe from the media.

But there’s an itch in the back of your brain, one you can’t scratch. And the itch even has a voice, repeating his name over, and over, and over again. It’s getting louder with each passing second, with each moment you see him on the screens on the wall, when your phone buzzes to notify you of a new message from him.

Alex gives you worried looks every now and then, but it takes her a while to open up and tell you what it’s about. And when she finally tells you what’s going on, you feel like the whole world has turned against you. First, everyone was freaking out because they thought you and Charles were getting married. Then it was you and Max. Now? Now the fans are mad because you chose your best friend over your boyfriend.

You close your eyes for a moment, but then you take a deep breath and leave the garage, trying to move in a way that doesn’t scream how terrible and pathetic you feel right now. Some fans are screaming bloody murder because Max is starting the race from P10 after a mechanical issue in Q3, which only happened because his lucky charm–you–wasn’t there with him on Saturday.

To be honest, you haven’t talked since the dinner. You’ve been avoiding him, ignoring him, and you hate yourself for not answering him.

“Wait,” you hear a familiar voice calling after you.

Fuck.

Max ran all the way here, ready to jump into the car based on the suit he already wears, but despite this, here he is, looking for you. There are people already turning in your direction, you can’t just leave him there, so you come to a halt and force a smile on your face.

“Hey, I–”

Before you could say anything, he gently but firmly puts a hand around your neck to pull you into a kiss. It’s rushed, passionate, and messy, yet it feels perfect. This is the first time the two of you kissed, until now you carefully avoided that situation, but God, what did you miss?

It’s only when he lets go for a moment that you notice the cameras around you, but it doesn’t seem to bother him, in fact, it just draws a smug smirk on his face. “Well, if you want to jump ship, Red Bull’s always waiting for you. I love you,” he adds quietly.

This short-circuits your brain. This didn’t sound fake, you have a feeling he meant it. But if he meant it, then… Okay, you need to stop, you can’t overthink, you can’t let him put ideas in your head.

You want to say something, anything, really, but nothing comes to your mind.

He flashes a big smile at you before pressing a rushed kiss on your cheek. “Come over tonight. The cats miss you.” And with that, he waves goodbye and leaves.

What the hell just happened?

Luckily, you have enough brain capacity left to send him a quick good luck message.

“I was hoping you would jump in, but don’t worry, I’m glad you’re here now” Max says when he opens the door of his apartment.

Yeah, right. The invitation. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t go there, not now. Not when you had these confusing feelings and thoughts. Did he mean it when he said those words? Did he catch feelings just like you did?

Because you did. You caught feelings in the past two months, and it wouldn’t be fair to deny. Just how long can you play pretend knowing damn well you want more from him?

Letting out a sigh, you go straight to his living room without saying a word–something that confuses him based on the questioning hum he lets out as you walk past him. Once he catches up, you gulp and prepare to speak up, breaking the awkward silence. This has never been the problem, not once. You could always chat and laugh, but now it feels different.

“Maybe it’s time to end this fake relationship,” you announce, even though the thought breaks your heart.

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” he repeats stubbornly as he sits on the couch and picks up his youngest furry kid. “Aren’t we having fun? Why can’t this become something real? Come on, you enjoyed that kiss this afternoon, didn’t you?”

Oh, that confident smile of his is driving you crazy. You just want to slap him.

You want to slap that handsome face.

DAMN IT! FOCUS!

“Max, people have moved on, there’s no reason to keep going,” you try, although your voice lacks conviction.

And he knows. He always knows if there’s something you’re not telling him. This time he starts with a doubtful look, which is followed by a wide, Cheshire Cat grin. The thing is, Max always gets what he wants, and this time you have a feeling you’re what he wants.

Before you know it, he puts the cat to the side–who gives him a mean look in return–and reaches out to take your hands to pull you into his lap. Your brain melts when you feel his hands on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin through your shirt. Why does it feel so good? You don’t want to like it as much as you do.

Taking a deep breath, you try to pry his hands off yourself to break the spell, but his grip only tightens as he launches himself forward to capture your lips in a kiss. Another mind blowing kiss that knocks every coherent thought out of your brain.

The fact you like it is pathetic.

But still oh so good.

Maybe giving him a chance is what you should do now. Maybe he’s right, maybe you would be good together. So, without thinking more, you let yourself get lost in the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck. But he suddenly leans back to build a little distance.

“I have an idea,” he begins with a smile, his lips red and swollen. “I have napkins in the kitchen, let’s write a contract. Seems to work for you.”

“God, you’re so silly,” you tell him with a grin, then kiss him again.

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc

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unsuperingyournatural · 2 days ago

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chemistry

Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

The lights are warm. The cameras are rolling. And Pedro’s already throwing you under the bus.

“That was one time,” you say, half-laughing, half-mortified, as he grins at you from his chair. “My nails were wet.”

Pedro shrugs, shameless. “She ate an entire bowl of popcorn with chopsticks. And not even the long kind—the tiny ones from the sushi place.”

“I was being resourceful,” you shoot back, then lean toward the interviewer with mock seriousness. “This is what I’ve had to deal with for six months.”

Pedro leans toward his mic. “And I’ve loved every minute of it.”

You glance at him. He’s smiling so wide his eyes have nearly disappeared into those crinkles you’ve definitely stared at for too long on set. Your stomach flips, but you pretend it’s from the coffee.

The interviewer laughs. “I can already tell this is going to be fun. First question—how was it working together?”

Pedro wastes no time. “Terrible. She snores.”

Your mouth drops open. “I do not!”

“Okay, maybe not snoring, exactly,” he admits. “But you do this little sigh when you fall asleep during car rides.”

You blink. “You’ve watched me sleep?”

He gives you a look that’s far too confident for this early in the interview. “Of course.”

There’s a pause. The interviewer chuckles nervously, but you and Pedro are still staring at each other like you’re the only two people in the room.

It’s been like this since the table read—this strange gravitational pull, this banter that feels too natural. You’d both shown up in the same denim jacket, carrying the same iced coffee, and with—of all things—the same ridiculous cracked phone case with a tiny cartoon frog. He’d smiled when he saw yours. You’d cursed the universe and smiled right back.

“Okay,” the interviewer says, flipping to a new card, “lightning round. Say your answers at the same time. Ready?”

You nod, turning slightly toward Pedro. He does the same. The air shifts just a little, the way it always does when he’s close.

“Favorite comfort food?”

“Mac and cheese,” you both say.

You whip your head toward him. “No way.”

“Hot sauce on top,” he adds casually.

“Okay, that’s creepy.” You squint at him. “Do you have cameras in my apartment?”

“I don’t need cameras,” he says, lips twitching. “I just know you.”

Your pulse jumps at the way he says it—too smooth, too knowing, too much.

The next question comes fast. “Celebrity crush growing up?”

“Gillian Anderson,” Pedro says.

“David Duchovny,” you answer at the exact same time.

There’s a beat. Then you both burst out laughing.

“Are you guys serious?” the interviewer asks, eyes wide.

You laugh so hard you have to lean forward, your shoulder bumping into Pedro’s. He doesn’t move away.

“We’re just the same person in alternate timelines,” you say.

“I’ve been saying that,” Pedro agrees. “If you were a man, I’d probably have a confusing crush on you.”

You give him a sly look. “You already have a confusing crush on me.”

His smirk is slower this time, and when his eyes find yours, they don’t waver. “It’s not that confusing.”

Your breath catches, just a little. You wonder if the cameras picked that up.

“Okay, okay,” the interviewer says, waving a hand. “Before you two combust—what’s next for you?”

You shrug. “Hopefully another project together.”

“Or a cooking show,” Pedro adds. “Mac & Cheese with Hot Sauce: The Series.”

“Streaming nowhere,” you deadpan. “Because we forget to press record.”

“But the vibes?” he says, nudging your foot with his under the chairs.

“Impeccable,” you say, matching his smile.

There’s a pause after that. Not awkward—just full. Charged. You glance over at him, and he’s already looking at you, eyes soft, mouth curved in that lazy smile that always gets you into trouble.

You lower your voice, just enough so the mic doesn’t pick it up.

“Still think it’s not a crush?”

Pedro leans in, close enough that you can smell coffee and something warm and familiar on his skin.

“I said it wasn’t confusing,” he murmurs.

Your heart does something stupid. You smile—maybe a little too wide—and turn back to the interviewer before you get carried away.

You tell yourself it’s just chemistry.

You tell yourself it’s just banter.

But the way he’s still watching you?

You’re starting to think it might be something else entirely.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #female descriptors used #female reader

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wbbpls · 3 days ago

Text

Platonic Plus One

Chapter 10

Word count: 3800 thank you all for being patient with me! I hope this chapter gives my angst and fluff people somewhat of equal happiness. as always yap away in my inbox I love hearing from you guys!

Everything was distinctly not okay. After dance lessons, the girls were quickly sent to dinner, and even though they sat next to each other, it felt like they hadn’t spoken once since their kiss in the hotel room. It was a passionate, in-the-moment reaction that felt so right, yet so scary. What does it mean now?

Throughout dinner, everyone pulled them in different directions. Still, Paige kept her arm around Azzi’s chair, mindlessly rubbing her back. By the end of the night, everyone was exhausted and headed to their rooms.

“Night, ladies. See you in the morning!” The girls said bye to Aziz's mom and dad in the elevator and began to head to their room. Paige held the door open for Azzi, and they sheepishly smiled at each other.

“Tonight was a good night.” Azzi smiled at Paige as she plugged in her phone.

“Yeah, forreal. That desert was next level.”

“Hey Paige, could we—” Azzi wanted to ask Paige to talk about their kiss, but her phone began to ring.

“Ah shit, it’s KK. Can I see if she’s good?”

“For sure. I’m, uh, yeah, I’m gonna go shower then.” The water started as KK and Paige caught up. She threw herself on the bed to get comfortable.

“Soooooo, P Boogers, I gotta ask. How’s it all been going?”

“It’s fine, man, just chillin' with her family.”

“Okay, but this has gotta be hard for you, dude.”

“It’s definitely not easy.”

“What vibes are you picking up on from her?”

“I just heard the water turn off, so I’ll tell you more later, but earlier today, we kissed in the hotel room, and it was so intense, man.”

“DUDE THAT'S A BIG DEAL!”

“I don’t know...we haven’t even acknowledged it.”

“Okay, so grow a pair and talk to her about it.”

On the other side of the door, Azzi finished putting product in her hair and getting dressed. Through the door, she could still hear Paige talking to KK. As Azzi went to grab the handle to leave, she stopped when she heard the end of Paige’s sentence.

“At the end of the day, it’s all a fake relationship. The kissing is like practice, if anything.”

Azzi’s heart sank. Their kiss was far from practice. It felt like a declaration. But apparently, to Paige, it was nothing. Azzi feels like such an idiot for thinking it was more than just a kiss. She’s the one who stupidly asked Paige to fake a relationship with her.

“Aight, man, I gotta sleep. I’ll catch up with you later.” When Paige hung up, she sighed and stared up at the ceiling. Why did everything have to feel so complicated? She heard the door open and smiled at Azzi as she came out.

“Hey, Az. Good shower?”

Azzi didn’t even look up as she made her way to her side of the bed and shortly said, “Yeah, fine.”

“Oh, cool, cool...wanna watch a movie?”

“No thanks.”

“You good, Azzi?” Paige looks at her with such concern and adoration. How can she go from saying their kiss was nothing but practice to looking at her like that?

“I’m fine. I’m just really tired and want to go to bed.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Night, Az.”

Azzi laid down with her back to Paige, desperately craving her touch. Paige shifted to face Azzi, unsure of what to do. She went to wrap her arm around Azzi but just couldn’t do it. What if Azzi regretted everything?

Neither girl slept well that night.

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

The next morning, they woke up tangled in each other's arms. Azzi woke up first with her head comfortably nuzzled in Paige’s neck. No matter how hard she tries to pull back, she can’t. They’ve been like they’re magnets since the first day they met. Azzi takes advantage of this moment, taking in the sounds of Paige’s deep breaths. She always knew she and Paige were different, but something about opening this door opened Azzi’s eyes, and she’s not so sure she knew how to come back from it. As she looks at Paige, she can’t find it in herself to even be mad at her. She’s the one who pressured Paige into this stupid situation in the first place.

Paige’s eyes fluttered open, and she softly smiled down at Azzi. “Mornin’.” Azzi smiled up at her and tightened her grip around Paige’s waist, and Paige rubbed her hand up and down her back.

“You feelin’ better, Az?”

“Yeah, just really needed sleep, I guess.”

“Mmm, I get it. I just missed you last night.” Paige mumbled as her eyes closed again, sending her back to sleep.

“I miss you too, Paige.” Azzi kissed her on the forehead and got ready for the day. While she was doing her hair, her phone dinged.

Scissor Sister ✂️: Hey Az, how’s the week been going?

Az: Morning, Car! It’s alright. Good to see family.

Incoming call: Scissor Sister ✂️

“Okay, tell me for real, and don’t give me fake bs. Your texts have been weird all week, and your moods give me whiplash.”

“Well, hello to you, too.”

“Ugh, I’m fine. I’m just trying to keep up with this whole fake relationship thing, and it's a lot sometimes.”

“Maybe because you want it to be a relationship?” Caroline says sarcastically.

“No, she’s just my best friend and being a good friend and helping me out. That’s it.”

“Azzi...friends don’t do what Paige does for you.”

“You’re saying she’s not a good friend?”

“C’mon now, Az, you know it's more than that.”

“Hm. Nope! I don’t know anything you’re talking about, actually.”

“It’s more than that, and you know it.” Caroline sighs.

“Oh, do I?” Azzi says combatively despite how fast she can feel her pulse quickening under the accusation.

“Yes.” Caroline challenges.

“She’s my friend, just like you are.”

“Alright, fine. When you were sick last semester, what did your friends do for you?”

Azzi automatically responds, “You guys brought me food and checked in on me. What does this have to do with anything?”

“Uh huh. And what did Paige do?”

“She stayed with me, put on my favorite movies, got me flowers, and made sure I ate. Any of you would have done that. Paige just did it first.”

“Azzi. I love you so much. But I will never sleep in your bed every night holding you until you fall asleep, especially when you have gross germs to spread. I don’t love you like that.”

“Gee, thanks, Carol.”

“But Paige...?”

“But Paige, what?”

“Paige doesn’t do that for everyone. When I was sick, she told me to stop coughing everywhere. Paige would do anything to make you feel better. To make you smile.”

“No, that’s just Paige. She’s just- she’s just so…”

“So…what?”

“I don’t know!” Azzi snaps, frustrated she can’t find the right words.

Caroline presses, trying to force it out of her. “You do know. You’re just overthinking this. Now, reverse the roles. Paige is sick. What do you do?”

“Easy. I make sure she has her favorite foods, especially purple Gatorade, and wake her up for her meds because she hates taking them. She gets really clingy when she’s sick, so I’d plan to stay there the week, and I don’t know whatever she needs, I guess.”

“Okay, what have you done for me when I’m sick?”

“I don’t know...get you soup?”

“You don’t want to cuddle me all night until I feel better?”

“Ugh, c’mon, it’s just different.”

“Why?”

“She’s my best friend.” The statement feels like the biggest lie, even to her.

“Is that the real reason why?” Caroline gently asks.

“I- uh…”

“Mhm. I’m here when you’re ready to really talk, Az.”

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

After her call with Caroline, Azzi was stuck in her head. She knows something is between her and Paige, but genuinely acknowledging it to everyone else? That’s where she draws the line. She was lounging on the couch near the lobby after breakfast when Katie walked up to her.

“Hey, Azzi, I’m gonna go on a walk. Wanna join?”

“Sure, Mom, that sounds great, actually.”

They enjoyed the sounds of the wind and the chirping birds for the first few minutes before Katie broke the silence.

“So, how are you and Paige doing?”

“Uh, good? Why do you ask?”

“It’s just really nice seeing you guys together.” Azzi nods, taking in what her mom is trying to say.

“Hey, Azzi, you know you can always talk to me, right?”

“What? Yeah, of course, I know that, Mom. Did something happen?”

Katie sighed and looked down as if she was building up the courage to say something. Finally, she looks up at Azzi. “Why didn’t you tell me you guys were official, honey? You know I’ve always loved Paige. She is practically a part of the family. I’ve always known there’s more between you two. I just never wanted to push it.”

Azzi feels sick with guilt. She tells her Mom everything, maybe even too much. Of course, this would make her feel like she’s hiding something.

“No, it’s not because of you! I guess I just didn't want things to change, and I wanted to make sure Paige and I were good before coming to you with anything.” Azzi hates herself for how easily that lie rolled off her tongue.

“Okay, baby, I just need you to know I’m always on your team. And I know Paige is, too. I hope you know how much we all love you.” Azzi smiles at that. People would kill to have this kind of approval of their relationships from their parents. And her mom is right; Paige would do anything for her and is always on her side. Being mad at her for doing what she asked her to do isn’t fair.

“I know, Mom.” Azzi practically whispers as they continue their walk.

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

Paigey 💗: hey az imma go grab lunch you finna join?

Princess 💗: yeah i’ll be there in 5

Azzi finds Paige in a rounded booth, scrolling through her phone. She slides in next to her. “Hey, sleepy head.”

“Mmm, hey, mama.”

“Hey Paige, before we get food...can we talk?”

“Course, Az. Everything okay?”

“You know you’re my best friend, right?”

“Uh, yeah? Is that a trick question or somethin’?”

“N-no. I guess I just need you to know that no matter what, our friendship comes first. So, like if any of this has been weird for you, we can stop pretending.”

“W-wait, no, I don’t want to! I mean, u-uh, it would just make things weird for your family. Wait, are you uncomfortable?”

“No, not at all.”

“Me neither.”

“I just don’t want to lose you, P.”

“There’s not a world where I’d let that happen.”

Paige leans in and hugs Azzi tight. Maybe the kiss last night had her second-guessing? Nothing about the kiss felt fake, but perhaps it freaked Azzi out.

“I-If you want me to pull back, I totally can.”

“No, I like how it’s been.” Azzi's eyes flickered down at Paige’s lips for just a split second. Something was missing here, and Paige wasn’t quite sure what.

“Me too, Az.” The girls hold each other for a moment before Paige breaks the silence. “How about we skip real food and go straight to dessert?”

“Ice cream?!” Azzi’s eyes lit up, and she pulled Paige’s arm, dragging her out of the booth. On their way out, the girls ran into Jose.

“Oh, thank god I found you guys. Dad won’t leave me alone! I’ve already made like 10 tik toks with hi,m but he won’t give up. Please, I beg of you to save me.”

“Aight, influencer, come with us,” Paige smirks and laces her fingers in Azzi’s hand.

“Thank god, man. I’ll do anything to get out of that.” The girls look at each other with a knowing smile.

“Anything, you say?”

“Oh no, what did I just sign up for?”

“You can buy us ice cream,” Azzi says with a cute smile and walks towards the front.

“What?! Dude, your girlfriend has NIL money. What you got me buying ice cream for?”

“Hey man, Princess gets what she wants,” Man says with a hand up, laughing at Jose’s regrets.

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

When it comes to Azzi, Paige lost all rationale. That’s part of what made this all so difficult. Usually, Paige could set her emotions aside and be rational, never letting her emotions dictate her actions. But the kiss from yesterday just kept replaying in her mind and how she felt, well, complete. Then, seeing Azzi so distant last night and nervously making sure their friendship comes first today put Paige in a whirlwind. Despite all the confusion, things are starting to feel like normal again. Paige has been able to take a step back and see things with a fresh set of eyes. Whatever happened with Jonathan is in the past. They’ve grown so much since high school, and holding her accountable for things they did at 16 is unfair. The world was so confusing then and has honestly only gotten more confusing. Azzi’s family is happy with how things are going, and Azzi gets to enjoy her week without being hounded about her dating life. No matter what, they’re best friends.

Once the three of them get out of the car, Paige takes a moment to take in the feeling of the sun on her skin. There’s something peaceful about getting ice cream with Azzi and her brother. Something so normal and mundane about it in the best ways.

Jose pushed Paige. “C’mon, Mrs. NIL, who can’t buy her girlfriend ice cream. You’re gonna get burned by the sun.”

“Bro, I’m not that pasty damn.”

“You’re pretty pale, Paigey.”

“All I heard is that I’m pretty.”

“Sure, whatever your need to hear to sleep at night, Bueckers.”

“Oh, I sleep just fine knowing I’m pretty, Fudd.”

“That’s Mrs. NIL to you.” Azzi winks and gets in line. Azzi orders chocolate and strawberry in a cup, Jose gets coffee ice cream, and Paige gets mint chocolate chip on a waffle cone.

“Ew, mint?”

“If you ever tried it, you’d probably like it, Az.” Paige rolled her eyes and made her way to a picnic table. The three of them enjoy their ice cream and laugh, talking about the most random stuff. Jose stands up to order more ice cream to go for Azzi’s family, leaving the two girls alone.

Azzi starts going on some rant about a training camp she is setting up. Paige loves basketball. Paige also loves Azzi. But Azzi talking about basketball? That’s her biggest weakness. Paige finds herself zoning out into Azzi’s voice, oblivious to the world around her. All she can think about is how pretty Azzi is and how beautiful she is when she’s passionate about something.

“Paige?”

“Hmm?”

“Uh, your hand is getting all sticky.”

“Yeah...” Paige still hadn’t popped out of her Azzi bubble until she pushed at her knee. “Wait, what?”

Azzi giggles, “Paigey, you’re dripping everywhere.” Paige’s head is so far in the gutter that she can’t process the ice cream dripping from her hand. Without thinking, Paige catches the green ice cream dripping down her hand and wrist with her tongue. She licks up her hand, back to the waffle cone, and smiles proudly at her success.

When Paige looks back up at Azzi, who is staring at her with the same intensity she had last night, her mouth goes dry. Paige licks her lips, feeling like a fish out of water, and Azzi’s eyes follow each movement. Azzi reaches out to swipe off the remaining mint on the side of Paige’s mouth, then sucks on her finger rid of the ice cream. The tension in the air is thick and heavy. Paige audibly gulps. Their eyes snap up, meeting each other's deep gaze.

“Paige, is it just me or—” Jose unknowingly interrupts their moment. “Alright, guys, let’s head back before their ice cream melts too.” He is oblivious as ever to the charged space between the two girls.

Something about that moment gave both girls just enough confidence to continue to push boundaries. In the car, Paige put her hand on Azzi’s thigh. She used handing Azzi her phone to pick one of her playlists as an excuse and just never moved her hand. Azzi, on the other hand, was very aware of the hand placement, trying to keep it together for the longest 10-minute caride of her life. When Azzi rested her hands on her lap, she slipped her pinky into Paige’s, and in response, Paige’s thumb gently rubbed the side of her thigh.

Once they arrived back on the property, Jose ran inside, and Paige handed her keys to the valet. “Hey P, I have to go to this bridesmaid meeting to finish planning the party the night before the wedding. I’ll meet up with you after?”

“Cool, imma go shoot some hoops. Come find me after.”

After about ten minutes of shooting, Azzi shows up. “Well, that was fast. I didn’t realize you were such an elite planner.” She passes Azzi the ball and shoots a three as if it’s as easy as breathing.

“The maid of honor wasn’t feeling good, so we rescheduled for tomorrow.”

“Damn that sucks.” Paige drops another shot.

“Yeah, it’s just a bad headache, so she should be back up and running again soon. Besides, it means I’m free for the rest of the day.”

“Hmm, so you’re free to spend time with me now?”

“‘I’m all yours, P,” Azzi said it about her free time, but the words felt heavy with a truth she wasn’t sure how to completely articulate yet.

Paige smiled, “Good, let’s keep it that way.”

“What do you wanna do then?”

“Whatever you want, Princess.” Heat shot its way down Azzi’s body, remembering the last time Paige had called her a princess. The feeling of Paige’s body over her, grinding into her while she kisses her neck—

“Azzi?”

“U-uh yeah. Right. S-something to do.” Azzi tries to play it down, but she sees Paige smirk as the blush runs up her face. “What about the massage Jess suggested?”

“Ugh, yes. I could really use it. Great idea, Az.” Paige tosses in one last basket before they make their way over the spa.

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

“Room number and last name, please?”

“355 and Fudd.”

“Ah, yes! I see your name right here. The bride has offered complimentary massages to all of her bridesmaids and their partners. We will set up a couple's room for you in just a moment.”

When Azzi considered going to the spa, she didn’t think they would end up in the same room, especially a couples room. The girls silently waited in the lobby, taking in the peaceful sounds until they heard their name called. When they were brought to their room, each masseuse asked them their preferences and offered them water. As Azzi sipped her water, she overheard Paige answering the masseuse about the pressure she’d like for her massage.

“Yeah, I definitely like it deep.”

Azzi choked on her water. She still hasn’t been able to take her mind out of the gutter since the ice cream incident, and now it just feels like life is playing jokes on her.

“Okay, ladies, please undress and lay down on your stomachs. We will come back shortly.”

Once the door closes, the silence is so thick that not even a knife could cut it. They change in locker rooms together all the time, but the intimacy of the moment, the roses everywhere, and the lingering looks make this feel like a much bigger deal. Paige is the first to make a move. She takes her t-shirt and shorts off, leaving her in just boxers and a sports bra. Azzi follows and pulls her sundress up over her head, but it gets caught in her necklace.

“Shit, Paige can you help me?” Paige freezes. This isn’t a big deal. Just normal best friend things.

“Y-yeah, I gotchu.” Azzi feels Paige’s hands make their way under her dress to detach it from the necklace.

“Aha, got it!” Paige pulls the dress over her head, and the girls realize how close and underdressed they are. The only thing Azzi could focus on was how easily she could kiss Paige right now.

“Thanks, P. I owe you.”

Paige moves even closer. “Oh yeah?” The comforting smell of Paige’s perfume and the unnecessary confidence in her smirk overtook any decision-making power she had left. Azzi closes the gap for a gentle kiss, taking Paige off guard.

“Is that—”

Another kiss.

“—a good enough—”

They kiss again.

“—thank you?”

At the third kiss, Paige moves her hands to Azzi’s waist.

“Definitely,” Paige responds breathlessly. Seeing Paige caught off guard and flustered sends a jolt through Azzi’s body, shocking her into motion. She leaned in again, kissing Paige slowly. Azzi knows there’s no reason to kiss her right now other than she just wants to. She’d wanted to for so many years, but she shoved that feeling deep in the back of her head. The feeling of Paige’s tongue swiping the bottom of her tongue and pulling her in closer validates all of those feelings. Azzi knows that what she feels is real, and she’s not sure she can ever go back. She wrapped her arms around Paige’s neck, pulling her in even closer.

As Paige kisses her back with so much softness and adoration, Azzi takes a moment to let herself feel what it would be like to actually be with Paige in such an intimate way. She pushes the thoughts of Paige seeing it all as fake to the back of her head when she moves her hands into Azzi’s hair. Maybe Paige must hear how loudly she’s thinking, so she pulls back slightly, not removing her hands.

“You know no one is watching, right?”

Azzi took a deep breath, never losing eye contact. “I know.”

Paige looks down at Azzi in confusion, breathing heavily from their kiss. Azzi starts to wonder if she took it too far this time. There’s nothing that can save her from this moment. From the possible rejection.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

Paige kisses her hard, losing themselves in the kiss. Azzi sighs in relief at her best friend's response. There’s no hesitancy anymore. No thoughts and insecurities were floating around their heads. It’s just them.

When they hear a knock at the door, they slowly pull apart, and Paige looks between Azzi’s lips and eyes.

“You ready, ladies?”

“Yeah, in just a sec!” Paige responded before she leaned in for one more soft kiss. Then she whispers, “Enjoy your massage.”

They smile at each other and rush to lie down on the massage tables. Their respective masseuse comes in and begins to work on their knots. For the first time since this whole situation started, Paige and Azzi finally feel relaxed.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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demonic0angel · 2 days ago

Note

Young Justice hanging out at Fenton Works, and meeting the Fenton Family. For whatever reason you choose.

Wonder Girl coughed lightly. “Uhm. It’s okay if we hide in here, right?”

Spirit nodded, as she guided her friends to her parents’ house. “Yeah, it’ll be okay. My parents should be home, but it’s alright, they’ll help us.” Without hesitation, she threw the doors open and called it, “Mom! Dad! I’m home!”

Two people popped their heads out of the kitchen window and beamed. “Dani!” A woman cooed. She was wearing a turquoise hazmat suit and cheerfully holding a turkey. “I didn’t know you were going to visit home!”

The man next to her, who was wearing an orange hazmat suit, grinned at them and then quickly ran off, calling, “We didn’t get enough food! Wait here! I’ll get another turkey!”

“Get three!” Dani’s mom called before she ushered everyone in. Impulse had already rushed inside and was inspecting everything enthusiastically, but she didn’t even seem to care. “Aww, are these your friends, Dani? They look a little bloody— is that normal?”

It was Superboy who answered respectfully, “We’re sorry for intruding, ma’am. Uh, we were nearby due to an interdimensional demon and we needed a place to lay low for a while and recover. If that’s okay, ma’am.”

Dani’s mom beamed. “Oh, that’s perfectly fine! I’m so glad my baby girl has friends! Jazz and Danny never bring their friends around anymore. They’ve all moved out, you see, so we’ve been feeling a bit of empty nest syndrome. Come in, we’ll feed you and you can all rest!”

Everyone gave each other relieved looks and then thanked Dani’s mom who waved it off, pushing them into the bathroom to wash their hands and the blood off. Dani immediately set out to patch everyone up, grinning all the while as they were all squished into the tiny bathroom.

“Your mom seems nice,” Anita said. She looked vaguely shocked by everything.

“Yeah, she and Dad adopted me and Dan even when they didn’t need to,” Dani said. She quickly slapped a bandaid onto Slobo’s arm, who was already healed from his regeneration abilities, before she moved onto Red Robin, who was quiet and still masked.

Cassie asked, “Would we be a bother? I know my mom would be furious if we ever came to her like this.”

“Nah. They’re ghost hunters and Danny is a hero too, remember? They know what it’s like to raise heroes, so it’s fine.”

Dani cheerfully patched them all up and then they were quickly seated at the dinner table, where Dani’s dad had already came back with three more turkeys and a whole bunch of other groceries, quickly whipping up a feast for their impromptu guests.

“We should visit more often if we get to eat all of this every time,” Slobo said with a grin.

“You really don’t need to do this,” Cassie said, looking guilty. “It’s enough to just let us rest. We can’t finish all of this food!”

“I can!” All of the boys chorused and received the nastiest glare from their leader for their exclamation. They all smiled at her in varying levels of sheepishness.

Dani’s mom beamed. “It’s no trouble at all! You kiddos can eat, we’ll take care of the demons for you! Oh, and you, ghost-girl-that’s-not-my-daughter! We have food for you too!”

Suzie’s eyes widened. “You do?”

Dani smiled brightly. “Told you they’re the best! C’mon! Let’s eat!”

As they ate, Dani’s parents geared up in more guns and weapons before marching out the door.

“Remember to wash the dishes!” Dani’s dad said. “There’s brownies and ice cream in the fridge! Heat up the brownies slowly in the toaster oven! The microwave is contaminated again, so don’t use it until we disinfect it.”

“Okay! Got it, dad. Thanks again! Good luck!”

Red Robin leaned in close to Bart, who was chowing down noisily. “Is this what having attentive, present, and supportive parents feels like?”

337 notes · View notes

azzibuckets · 2 days ago

Text

letters from dallas part 1

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: in which i neglect all the other series and fics im supposed to be writing to send more angst ur way <3

lfd masterlist | main masterlist

May 1, 2025

Dear Azzi,

It fucking sucks here.

I know I’m supposed to be thankful for this opportunity. And I am, I swear. My teammates are nice. Arike’s been showing me around downtown. Nai and Lyss are funny. They’ve adopted me, called me their child. They remind me of us.

My therapist said it’s good to write down my feelings. Not sure how she’d say if it was letters, letters to you, but hey, something is better than nothing.

I saw a trailer for Frozen 3 last week and I thought of you. I hope you’re doing well. I called KK the other day. She was so excited - I felt bad. I haven’t been as good as I wanted to be with talking to our team - well, your team now - but it hurts too much knowing that they get to spend every day with you and I can’t. I asked her about you. She seemed hesitant to tell me. But I kept nagging her and she told me you’re good, spending a lot of time reading and stuff. Said they finally got you off Colleen Hoover. She wants me to move on, I can tell. It’s killing both of us, how I can’t let you go. But I guess writing these letters and stuffing them in my closet are how I’m trying to get my closure and deal with my feelings, so maybe this will help.

You’re on my fucking mind all the time, and I wish you weren’t. I miss you so bad sometimes it hurts to exist. If you saw the amount of melatonin I take every every night just to avoid you in my dreams, you’d probably yell at me.

Love,

Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 7, 2025

Dear Azzi,

Have I mentioned that Drew hasn’t been talking to me? He blames me for our breakup, and he misses you like hell. I do too.

I played like shit in the game yesterday. I can’t believe we lost to the Sparks. It was nice seeing Cam again though. I don’t know if you remember, but it’s our anniversary. I saw that you were at the soccer game with the girls. You looked really good, really happy. I guess it doesn’t affect you like it affects me. And I know that should make me like, mad, or jealous. But I’m glad at least one of us is healing?

Honestly? it sucks having to see your face all over social media. It sucks even more whenever I go on my Instagram page and you’re all over it too. I could be salty and delete all of it, but that would start too much drama. Besides, that would mean deleting like half my posts

I wonder how Jose and Jon are doing. Jon unfollowed me the other day. That one hurt pretty bad. I miss my little brothers, and I miss your parents.

Love,

Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

August 28, 2025

Dear Azzi,

Yesterday was a fucking shit show. Honestly, I didn’t expect you to even show up when I heard you guys were coming. It was weird, seeing you in the audience. It was everything I’d always imagined, you coming to my games, but it also made me feel sick, knowing this is what could’ve been. What should’ve been. I was nervous the last quarter thinking about what to say to you after the game, but god, Azzi, you couldn’t even look at me. I tried to talk to you after the group pic but you disappeared.

Maybe it’s a good time to tell you that Katie and Tim were at my game last week, against the Mystics. I’m gonna be honest, when I saw they were there, I avoided them, and I’m not proud of it. I ran to my car straight after the presser but somehow they found where I parked and were waiting next to it?? If this was a different circumstance I would’ve laughed.

All they told me was great game before I started crying. I don’t even know what came over me. But your mom hugged me and that made me cry even harder. They told me I was their daughter no matter what, and they loved me. I wrote it down as soon as I left because I didn’t ever wanna forget.

Azzi, we didn’t even marry each other like we promised, and I still feel like we left a broken family. I didn’t mean for this many people to get hurt, for this many relationships to shatter because ours did.

It makes forgetting you so much harder, and that’s what pisses me off. That I’ve injured my knee and gone through months of rehab and moved across the country to a brand new city, yet this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

From,

Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

October 2nd, 2025

Dear Azzi,

I was calling KK again and I didn’t ask about you this time. I think I’m making some progress.

Arike keeps trying to get me with some of her friends, but it still doesn’t feel right. I think I need a little bit more time.

From,

Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

October 20, 2025

Dear Azzi,

I turn 24 today. Damn I feel old. I’ve spent a third of my life now loving you.

From,

Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

October 22nd, 2025

Dear Azzi,

I just got your present in the mail. You didn’t have to. I love it. Thank you.

- Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

November 11, 2025

Happy birthday big head. I think you probably received my gift by now. I debated on writing a card, but you didn’t write me one, and I’ve decided to leave the cards (haha) in your hand. So I’m just following your lead. I hope you enjoy 23.

- Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

December 7, 2025

Azzi,

Hell of a game yesterday. Proud of you. National player of the year performance

- P

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 5, 2026

Az,

LET’S FUCKING GOOOO. Shit, man. Two peat natty champs??? Unbelievable. My hands are tweaking out, I can’t even read my own handwriting. I knew you could do it, Az. Thank you for not forcing me to wear irish merch..I never look good in green like you do

- P

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 13, 2026

Azzi,

Drafted to the Sky????

See you so fucking soon

Nice fit at the draft btw

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May 16, 2026

Dear Azzi,

Fuck, the way you smiled at me after that game. Maybe I’ll have the courage to finally text you. I know it’s probably not the best idea but…I still regret everything. It’s been a little bit more than a year and it still hurts as bad as it did the first day. Is this normal?

Love,

Paige

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #uconnwbb #paige x azzi #angst #paige bueckers x azzi fudd

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womanofwords · 2 days ago

Text

Everybody's Favourite (Part 7)

Over at the Iceberg Lounge, you were running for your life. Penguin had set you up after all, and now you were being hunted like prey. It was all a setup, a trap set by the vilest villains one could ever lay their eyes on.

"You can only run for so long, Y/N," Bane said, hunting you down like a ravenous wolf on a rabbit's trail. "You'll have to stop soon."

"But not yet!" you yell, as you continue to run. You picked up speed and cackled maniacally, only to let out a yelp of terror as something scooped you up off the floor. You were in the tight, suffocating embrace of a net.

"Still got it, little puzzler," Riddler teased, comfortably on the ground. "You're ours now, darling."

"What's going to happen to me?" you whimpered, as Harley and the Joker gleefully lowered you down.

"Everything we promised," Scarecrow said. "No more and no less."

The moment you were out of the net, hands descended onto you . . . so you could be tickled witless. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HELP! DAD, PLEASE!" you pleaded.

Penguin looked at you and shook his head. "Oh, little dove . . . you said nothing we could do would break your composure. Your composure is quite thoroughly broken now, and look at that adorable laugh and smile!"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE QUIT THAHAHAHAHAHAT! I CAHAHAHAHAN'T TAHAHAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIHIHIHIT!"

"I'm quite sure you can, little dove. Just relax; Joker knows what he's doing," Penguin assured.

"We'll have to explore this, won't we, Mister J?" Harley mused. "Just for that look on their face."

Outside the Iceberg Lounge, the Batfamily winced at the sound of maniacal cackling. "Who is that?" Jason asked.

"Must be the Joker. Nobody else could laugh that hard for that long," Damian said. "They must be torturing Y/N in there. We have to go in!"

"Hold on. Oracle, any word on guards?" Bruce asked.

"No typical goons, but all the heavy hitters are here," Oracle relayed from within the Batcave. "Bane, Joker and Harley, Poison Ivy, Two-Face, Riddler, Scarecrow, Catwoman, they're all here. With Y/N."

"That's not a good combination," Jason groaned. "I say storm the castle."

"No. We are going to infiltrate covertly. Security is at a minimum, it's the most viable option," Stephanie said. "Which is weird. Why not protect your asset?"

"Enough speculation. Everyone pair up. Take a different window and follow the sound of the screams," Bruce ordered.

You were having a wonderful time laughing yourself silly during the intense tickle session the villains were doling out. "D'aww, wook at the widdle cutie," Harley taunted. "Cackles more than Buddsie and Louie."

Penguin was about to say something when the door burst open and the Batkids tumbled through it. "Get your hands off Y/N Wayne!" Robin ordered.

Everything came to a standstill. You looked at your family of vigilantes and your family of villains, squaring off against each other.

This was awkward.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7 <- You are here

Part 8

Taglist: @tinybrie, @enchantingarcadecreation, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @sh4rk-k1d, @prorpy, @heather-hutchcroft, @angelicbear, @sulleha, @sirenetheblogger, @omgfangirlland, @wannaflyaway, @jaybunsblog, @sugarrush-blush

#creative writing #my writing #writing inspiration #writers #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #yandere #platonic yandere #yandere batfam #batfam

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arietem · 3 days ago

Text

you are my favorite bad boy

masterlist

jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: you and jj are fighting at the chateau and you storm out of the house

angst, but a happy ending

a/n: we gotta add some angst in the mix, and i love it

You and JJ are standing in the chateau's living room facing each other. The atmosphere surrounding you resembles a loaded gun that is seconds away from going off. You can't remember the last time you were this pissed off.

"Why the fuck do you always have to do this JJ?" you yell out at him. He is in one of those moods when nothing is going right for him and he's itching to let it all out. Well, you can't stay unfazed either, his bad mood is affecting you too.

The Pogues made themselves scarce somewhere around the house, knowing to wait it out while you and JJ argue. You two don't fight that often, but when you do, oh boy, everybody better take cover. Both of you can be damn stubborn and short-fused when the situation calls for it.

"What? What the fuck do I do? JJ yells right back, aggressively running his fingers through his hair. You know him better than he knows himself at this point and you know what makes him throw caution to the wind and go looking for trouble. It's always either something to do with the kooks or fucking Luke. You swear you could kill that man for messing with JJ all the time.

"You always have to prove him right! Or them! Don't you see you're letting all of them win this way?" Your hair is swinging around your back, the wind from the open windows making it knotted and overstimulating you. Usually, you love the windy nights by the beach, but not this night and not like this.

There is a party at the Boneyard tonight that will be filled with drunk and high kooks, the perfect targets for JJ's fuse to blow out. Even though he may not say it to you outwardly, you know why he changed his mind about going to this party after you asked him to stay in and watch a movie with you.

"So what, I'm not allowed to go to a party without you anymore?" You watch him pace back and forth, the nervous energy bouncing off of him. Even though you know he doesn't mean it, even though he's only deflecting to try to mask his pain, there's no denying it hurts you.

"Oh my god, who the fuck said that? It's not about that at all and you fucking know it!" God, he is frustrating you to no end. Your eyes start to fill with angry tears, threatening to spill over. JJ knows you trust him and you know he trusts you, there has never been a single question about it in either of your minds.

You wipe at your eyes furiously and you hope he hurts too seeing you unravel like this. JJ tries to open his mouth, but you cut him off, not choosing your words carefully anymore. "I know you, JJ. I see you. You will go to that party and you will pick a fight with someone and you will feel even worse because you will prove Luke and the kooks right."

He freezes at your words and you know you hit the spot you were aiming for. You also know that he will go out and do whatever he wants anyway because that's just what he does. And you get it, you get his trauma and you love him anyway, but you can't lie that it doesn't hurt. It hurts seeing him lash out like an animal backed into a corner when all you want is for him to let you in completely and let himself be loved.

"Yeah, well, it's better you learn it sooner rather than later. I'm no good and I don't even know what you're doing with me." JJ wasn't yelling anymore and that was even worse. When that dejected tone started to color his voice, you know the walls are up again and there's not much you can do right now to bring them down.

"You know what, JJ? Go. Do whatever the fuck you want, as always. I'm done for tonight," you say, refusing to look him in the eye. All the fighting has drained you and all you feel right now is exhaustion. Storming past him, you can hear his groan, but you don't turn around.

Parked next to the Twinkie is your truck and you stand beside it, hand on the handle, waiting to see if JJ will follow you out. He doesn't. Feeling defeated, you get in the car and drive home.

JJ stands close to the bonfire at the party, staring out at the water. He is a few beers deep, but he doesn't feel like he hoped he would. The way you two left things made him uneasy and restless. He flexes his fists a couple of times, chasing that desire for fighting he had earlier.

It doesn't work. He doesn't want to be here. Not really. All he wants is to hold you in his arms and make it all right, but he's afraid he took it too far this time. Why did he always have to fuck everything up? It's like he thinks one thing and ends up saying something completely different, something hurtful that he doesn't really mean.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees John B approach him. He puts a hand on JJ's shoulder. "You need to talk to her."

JJ turns to face him. "You don't think I know that, man?" he says on an exhale. "I'm scared I'm gonna make it worse."

"Nah, JJ. Come on dude, she loves you and you love her." John B bends a little to look into JJ's eyes. "Right?"

JJ nods at his question, saying "so much. I can't imagine my life without her."

JB shakes his head, turning his gaze to the water now. "She's right, you know? You don't have to deflect. And you definitely shouldn't go proving the fuckers right."

"Ah fuck. I have to go. Gimme the keys, I'll pick you up later!" John B wordlessly hands him the keys to the Twinkie and JJ breaks into a run, trying to get to the van and start driving as quickly as possible.

You are hanging out in your backyard, laying in the hammock, your legs dangling off one side. There was no way you could go to sleep after the fight you and JJ had. Looking up at the stars, you hear something that sounds awfully like the Twinkie. The van's noises are unmistakable, especially on a quiet night like this one.

Jumping out of the hammock, you go to investigate, leaning over the fence separating you from the driveway. Sure enough, it was the Twinkie, and who was stepping out of it?

"Hi," JJ says.

"Hey," you reply, keeping your voice even, not letting emotion show.

JJ takes a few steps closer, beckoning you to meet him in the driveway. You sigh, but open the gate and come to him just the same.

You don't want to say anything first, leaving JJ to take the lead. He reaches out, takes one of your hands, and puts it over his heart, which is beating really hard.

"I'm sorry, angel." He takes the same hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing each finger, ending with his lips on your palm, holding them there for a few moments.

"You are right, you're always right. I wanna be better, baby," JJ says, leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours. "I'll be better."

He's still holding your hand in his and you interlace your fingers together. "I love you the way you are JJ, okay? I just want you to realize you are good enough. You are more than good enough." You press a gentle kiss to his lips, loving the softness of them.

"I'm so glad I found you," JJ says and brings you in a tight hug against his chest. "I'm so glad we found each other, baby," you say, rubbing soothing circles on his back. Both of you know that no matter how many dumb fights you have, you are not leaving and neither is JJ.

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sweetdispatch · 3 days ago

Note

Oooh I love these prompt ideas!!

Can I have 4 lava cakes with chocolate ice cream and edible glitter

Photo - Q. Hughes

v' bakery pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader summary: You and Quinn had been close with each other but never made a move until one photo changed your whole friendship warning: none taglist:@bunbunbl0gs @hwalllllllelujah

The mutual pining had been going on since last summer. You met Quinn through your friends and it was the best thing that ever happened to you. He was a well spoken, smart guy with a passion. You admired him a lot, especially his drive about hockey. He was so passionate about it and it made you hooked on him.

Before Quinn met you, he broke up with his girlfriend. He wasn’t willing to jump into another relationship but for you, he was ready for it. You were a sweet and caring person who was always ready to help others. He knew you were special when during your walk, you rescued a cat who was abandoned by the street.

You were spending a lot of time with Quinn, many times ditching your friends just to be with him alone. You were sharing kisses but nothing more. You really thought that he’s the right guy for you. But you never made a move, too scared to risk what you have. Quinn also didn’t do anything. He needed more time to settle things down.

When the season started, you two became more busy but this didn’t change anything. You were attempting his games and Quinn was always showing up late at night just to have a conversation with you. Everyone thought that you were dating him but you were keeping things casual.

This was a bad call. One night you were scrolling twitter and you saw Quinn’ photo hugging another girl. You knew you shouldn’t be mad because at the end of the day, you are just friends but it hurted you. You believed in his every word that you’re special and he wants to have you but needed to sort everything out to be committed for you.

You felt like a fool. You called your friend to tell her about this photo. She arrived at your doorsteps an hour later and you were analysing your whole friendship with Quinn. It was a silly idea but your friend decided to open a gossip blog to read about him to see if he's a guy that might break your heart. After she did it, you regretted this.

There were plenty of rumours that Quinn is sleeping around with girls and he cheated in his previous relationships. You knew him and didn't want to believe what you read but you couldn’t help it. They really stuck in your head. That’s why you decided to give yourself a space from Quinn. You needed a break from him.

When Quinn saw the photo floating around social media, he lost all the colors from his face. He knew that it looked bad, like he’s flirting with another girl but that was far from the truth. It was his teammate’s girlfriend and he only hugged her as a greeting. He tried to call you but when you didn’t pick up the phone, he knew you already saw this photo.

You didn’t speak to Quinn for the next week. He tried to reach you but you never picked up your phone. You completely cut him off, thinking about your next move. Quinn was on a roadie so he couldn’t show up at your doorsteps but you knew that this was gonna happen as soon as he returned to Vancouver.

You weren’t wrong. Quinn came back and he drove to your place instead of his. He desperately needed to talk with you, to explain to you it’s nothing and he only wants you. He knocked on your door and to his relief, you opened the door. You didn’t say a word, just let him in.

“I can explain” Quinn breathed out.

“No need. I know that you only played with me and went to fuck another girl. Me and my friend had been reading about you and we learnt a lot of interesting things” You said calmly and crossed your arms on your chest.

“What things?” Quinn was confused.

“Just that you like to hook up with girls and cheated on your previous girlfriend” You shrugged.

“Is this how little you think of me?” Quinn asked you.

“Honestly I don’t know what to think about you anymore” You sighed. “I thought that we had a chance to be together. That you are different from other guys and you really want me but now I’m not sure about it” You said truthfully.

“I want you and everything we had is true. About this photo, it’s Petey’ girlfriend. I hugged her as a greeting and that’s it. It's a very unfortunate moment when someone took the picture” Quinn responded, feeling it’s the right moment to explain this whole mess.

“Okay but what about the rumours?” You believed him with the photo situation but after reading all the nasty stuff you still weren’t sure of your feelings.

“I used to sleep with girls and that’s normal. I was single and I’m not gonna tell you that I’m ashamed of that because I’m not. But I stopped doing that when I met you. I didn’t want to hurt you by going with other girls behind your back. I was waiting for you” Quinn said and you smiled softly.

“And the cheating rumours?” You felt bad for asking him about this but you needed full transparency.

“False. I could never cheat on anyone. It’s not me. Those rumours are made up” Quinn said proudly.

“So I just overreacted? God I feel so stupid. I’m sorry for jumping into conclusion” You said embarrassed that you believed them.

“Don’t be. I understand your concerns” Quinn hugged you. “What does it mean for us?” He asked you.

“I don’t know” You sighed.

“Because for me…” Quinn pulled out from the hug and looked at you. “It means that you care about us. That’s why I want to ask you this question. Are you ready to try to be with me? Like a girlfriend-boyfriend?” He asked with hope in his voice.

“Yes. I’m ready” You smiled at him and Quinn pulled you into a kiss.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes oneshot #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #vancouver canucks #v' bakery

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mistercrowbar · 2 days ago

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What advice would you give to someone who wants to start draw comics?

Read comics. Try to absorb the layouts and lettering - there’s so many ways to tackle it! Also even in published comics you’ll see that the art is messy and scrungly and you can take that as permission to be messy and scrungly too.

Comics are about efficiency and Good Enough. If you try to make each panel a masterpiece you’ll be there forever. Reasons why I mostly do simple pencil comics.

Start small. Do a scene or gag comic at a time. Get a feel for the medium and all the steps you have. If there’s a step you hate, find a way to emphasize the steps you love. EG I hate laying down flat colours but love shading, so I make my page form comics painterly greyscale with a gradient map to spruce them up.

Thumbnail!!!!! Figure out your page or panel layout before you start pencils. It can just be chicken scratch and sticken figures but it will help make sure there’s a clean line of action carrying the viewer from panel to panel and that your lettering fits.

don’t skimp on lettering. you can have beautiful artwork but if your dialogue is time new roman on half transparent ellipses or somehow unreadable it’s gonna drag everything else down. Blambot is a great source for free and affordable comic fonts and even has guides from an industry pro.

There are a huge bajillion elements to making comics but once you’ve made like, literally 100 pages you’ll start just intrinsically knowing things like the 180 rule, how to place a speech bubble when the first speaker is on the right, and that you can draw one nice background and then have gradient colour blocks carry you through most of the page/scene. And then you’ll still keep learning. Always learning!

LOTS of example stuff under the cut, mostly for lettering and layouts:

thumbnails vs finished page. The detail is just enough to remind me who goes where. You can see I mostly played with the last part of the scene, going from three panels in one row to making each panel an entire row across three rows. Panels on the same row have less “time” between them as the eyes skips from one to the other faster, whereas there’s a little more gap skipping back to a new row (think resetting a line on a typewriter). Here, the first thumbnail may have fit the artwork more neatly, but I wanted to give Astarion more time to deliberate his decision.

You can also see that I changed the top panel from a close up on Aldiirn to a wider shot showing both. This sets the scene, and the rest of it uses simple/abstract backgrounds until the final panel, which makes a nice bookend while making the overall load easier. One good environment panel will carry you for a while, but don't leave your characters in the void for too long.

Make a script before you start layouts but don’t be shocked if you need to cut things out to have them fit a page. Less is more, generally. This also goes for visual elements - what's most important to the scene? What's just extraneous detail you find fun but is creating clutter?

For the 4-panel comics I don’t put time into thumbnails unless it’s a difficult panel, but I always put the lettering and speech bubbles down first so they have enough room and nothing important gets covered. If you do this much you’re a step ahead imo.

This one I’m working on now and there’s a lot going on with four characters speaking to each other! It’s important to keep a clear line going for the dialogue. Astarion’s first line has the top left corner and clearly starts the conversation. The tail of the bubble carries over to where he whispers to Aldiirn, and we pick up Aldiirn’s lines. The rock wall on the right then draws the eye down to Shadowheart and Gale’s bubble at the bottom. I don’t think the tails on the bottom bubbles are 100% ideal, but it’s Good Enough.

There’s also slightly different points in time going on in this panel, because the art is static but it’s a long convo going on. Gale’s signature finger isn’t in response to Astarion whispering, but to his answer to Aldiirn that comes after. Think of how time works in your panels, especially when you got a big one because size = time.

You can use all sorts of things to direct the eye across a comic page, but I find the strongest things are the bubbles & tails and where characters are looking. Here, Gale’s “stop by” line breaks the panel line to help draw the viewer to him in the last panel, since otherwise the eye was likely to end up at Aldiirn.

I generally like bubbles to be tucked into their panels, either fully inside or up at the edges like “my condolences.” It looks neater than when bubbles are willy nilly over the edges which I see as a sign of poor planning. And! it means when you do break panel lines it can be more meaningful.

the 180 rule is a film/stage thing for composition to avoid confusing the audience, but the simplest way to put it is: if a character is on the left side of the scene, they should stay there until the action or whatever moves them. You can see here that Aldiirn is always on the right facing left, even when the camera is a bit behind him or a bit behind Gale. the 180 line is the front of Aldiirn’s tent, and the camera never crosses it in a way that would put Gale on the right.

I find it distracting when a conversation is happening in comic and a character breaks the 180 for no particular reason, though are times I’ve done it because a panel worked much better that way. The book Framed Ink has some great guides on composition and how to change the 180 line.

You can also see in the above comic that it’s arranged so that Gale’s always the first speaker in the panels he appears so there’s no criss cross bubble tails. Buuuut what if the first speaker is unavoidably on the right?

Stack the speech bubbles. You want the first speech bubble CLEARLY and undeniably the closest to the top left corner and then other speakers can go below.

the middle example above also has some examples of playing with the speech bubbles. Wyll’s “square-y round-y” bubble is the standard, the boxy ellipse. The tail has a slight, lanquid curve. He;s comfortable teasing the poor vampire. Aldiirn’s bubble is pointy! the tail straight! with urgency! And Astarion’s bubble and tail are burbling and grumbling through gritted teeth and pain. Varsh Ko’kuu, even though he’s speaking with a standard shaped bubble, has a sharp point in the tail that speaks to his assertiveness in protecting the egg. And Shadowheart has some hesitation with that wiggly tail.

Either hand drawing or using vector shapes for bubbles is fine, but I recommend staying away from true ellipses because they look static. Square-y round-y is where it’s at. Just make sure there’s enough space between text and edge of the bubble, usually enough to fit a capital H or W, but you can play with that spacing too.

The second panel here breaks the “first bubble goes top-left corner” rule, so it’s ambiguous if Gale or Aldiirn speaks first. However! In this case everyone is giving their responses in a jumble to Rath, so order matters less. I’m pretty sure every rule I’ve mentioned has a time and place to break it, but it’s still important to learn the basics first.

Key thing about comics typefaces: the capital I will have bars and the lower case will not. The barred I is used for I, as in, “I am not inclined to share” where the unbarred is used everywhere else.

When choosing a font, I recommend grabbing one that has Regular, Italic, and Bold/Bold Italic typefaces. I use Milk Moustache for my 4-panel comics because it’s very casual and similar weight to my own handwriting, but it doesn’t have an italic typeface and that drives me nuts sometimes. For the most flexibility, choose a font that has lower case AND uppercase type faces. I stick to upper case 90% of the time but lower case adds more options, like Aldiirn’s “really?” being so small due to his stressed state.

There are some official guides on what should be bold or italic in dialogues but they don’t matter as much unless you’re working for a big publisher with a style standard. Italics for thinking and whispering are common. I go with my gut, like Astarion’s speech is so dramatic I use italics and bold liberally, whereas for most others I may or may not just choose a key word to bold.

I think some programs will let you make text to fit a bubble instead of a square box, but tbh I just spend a lot of time manually making the text fit nicely in that bubble shape.

#comics #tutorial #resource #bg3

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