#but I think this is a sign that I’m in love with this show haha

[youronlydrpepper]

I have way too many ideas for this series

Meet Mr. Clock, a silly creepy clock guy that usually just talks about time not being in the digital world

⏰🍭🎪

[ryderdire]

This might sound sad what gets me about bluey everytime is just how much the parents adore their kids, the fact they want them to be happy and care to remember when they took their first steps and and words and and take the time to actually listen to their feelings and and and derail their enrite moving thing for them…. And and and and how much they show they love their kids man and not even that they love the idea of their kids they love who their kids are and everything about them and that love isn’t some vauge concept you can see it and feel it in the way they interact with the kids GAHHHHHH

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

[acutexangle]

random astrology observations (pt. 1)

a significant amount of celebrities and impactful personalities have their vertex situated in the fifth house (ie gisele bundchen, meghan markle, bella hadid, victoria beckham, albert einstein, lionel messi, princess catherine, bill gates—the list goes on and on). more specifically, it seems as if many of these are individuals who are either loved by the public, or seem to have cultivated a cult-like following (ie ted bundy)

i am SO tired of the half-assed observations that continually paint pisces mercuries as unintelligent/inarticulate. this generalization actually needs to be put to rest. in fact, i believe that pisces mercury natives are brilliant writers and intellectuals! at the risk of bringing up the oft-too-referenced einstein (who is a GREAT example of this, might i add) think of maya angelou, a brilliant individual that has been widely recognized for the power and impact of her words. i believe that these natives have the keen ability to intertwine the world of imagination and the written word. this allows for emotionally poignant and widely resonant communication!

venus in aries and sex appeal >>>>> rihanna, marilyn monroe, elizabeth taylor, shakira, sarah jessica parker being the star of a show called “SEX in the city” like you can’t make this stuff up haha

using the equal house system (from the ascendant) has allowed me to obtain a more in-depth understanding of my midheaven. whereas with placidus (where the mc is always in the 10th) and whole sign (where depending on the lateness of the degree of your ascendant the position of planets might widely shift), the equal house system divides the houses by 30 degrees beginning from the exact degree of your ascendant. to use myself as an example, in both placidus and whole signs my mc is in the 10th house. in equal, my mc is in the 9th. this extra layer of depth resonates with me because the legacy that i hope to impart onto the world (aka, the mc) exists in my philosophical works (i’m currently in a top program pursuing academic philosophy!)

having luminaries and benefics in the 10th, 11th and 12th houses has a strong correlation to fame and notoriety

jupiter transiting through the 12th house will often reveal those hidden factors that are actively harming the self. this could either be hidden health issues discovered, antagonistic individuals revealed, or beginning the path of mental and spiritual self-healing

bye :)

[circeyoru]

The Only Reason

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Worker!Reader]

Note: I have no idea what to call this AU, but I don't think a lot of people will read this so... Haha~ Mental AU? Chaos AU?

Update! This AU is called Mana Chaos AU! Plus there's Part 2 up!!

Part 1 (here) 一 Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4

Once, the world’s strongest Hunters were revered as humanity’s saviours and heroes for the weak and ordinary. They were once treated like celebrities and hold the highest power and authority. They were respected, praised, and idolized. They still were, now, with a hint of fear.

It all happened due to the infamous incident now dubbed as <The Outrage Incident>. It happened like any other day, in any other country, in any other city. But to only that one strong Hunter. He was an S-Rank Mage, a successful and loved one at that. The story goes like this. 

One day, this powerful Hunter was out on the street enjoying a day off, but something set him off and he used his powerful ability to set things right. It would have been the end of it since an S-Rank’s threat was enough to make the majority crumble. However, his power got out of control and caused an outrage to his being. He was using his powers in public and there was no dungeon outbreak or monsters nearby for him. No amount of justification could calm the public.

After that one incident, other countries’ S-Rank or higher started to experience a similar issue. The worst case was that even Healers of their level didn’t escape such a phenomenon. Soon, the public feared the strong protectors they once saw as shields and swords against the gates. 

Researchers and scientists were put to work quickly to investigate why and how this issue was happening now. The answer was in the overflowing mana levels within their bodies that couldn’t be contained since the human body was weak and frail for such a change. Addition to that, it correlated to the Hunter’s emotional level and their control. Institutions were built to imprison house the S-Ranks while monitoring their situation. 

Whenever an S-Rank’s mana levels and emotions show signs of <Outrage>, a term they now use to describe the Hunter going haywire with their powers on everything and anything around them, they will be sent to a dungeon alone. In the people’s eyes, it was better for that one Hunter to die in battle than kill innocents. Because at first, it was only the S-Ranks, but then some A-Ranks would fall victim to <Outrage> as well. 

The professionals have named the correlation as Emotional Mana, EM for short, which made way for the Emotional Mana Institution, EMI for strong Hunters. The Hunters were treated like mental patients or worse, forced into a straitjacket and some had a muzzle for certain Hunters. These were specially designed and created items that limit and restricts a Hunter’s use of their powers and abilities. 

It was a miracle that someone managed to create such equipment. That someone was also targetted by the S-Ranks after being announced and killed for such a disrespectful act, still the blueprints and prototypes were created and other talents that took over were able to finalize the perfect form.

“Personnel 002, you were specifically requested by SM-10.” 

You looked up from your laptop and paused in your rapid typing for just a few second before you looked back to your screen and continued typing. That code name was to protect you and everyone else that worked in EMI or have some form of connection to it, so that no innocent is sacrificed for the greater good. Still, you can’t get used to it nor do you want to. “I’m busy.”

“Please… SM-10 is way too picky with the people that enters his cell.” This person, Supervisor 843, was one of the newest employee to join the crew. Though, unlike the name of the duty, they were people that were disposable hence the frequent newcomers and high number. “Please help me.”

You sighed and glared up at the person who had a mask over their head and a voice changer to mask their identity. Though, with the way they were speaking, you could deduce this person was a ‘she’. You got up and snatched the file extended to you. Just when you thought you could rest and work in peace, trouble comes knocking on your door. “Get me a drink and some refreshment, I want to see it on my desk by the time I’m back.”

“Yes? Yes!” Supervisor 843 bowed and clapped her hands together, “I’ll do so!”

As swiftly and automatically, you made your way through the hallways and doorways, tapping your access card to unlock needed doors and lifts for your travel. On the way, other Supervisors nodded their heads and bowed in your presence when you walked by. Unlike them who wear a uniform, you only have a lab coat over your usual outfits. You don’t even have a mask or voice changer. 

Why?

You stood in front of the door that was labelled in bold ‘SM-10’, meaning the 10th S-Rank in Korea that belonged to the Mage class. The guard dressed in black from head to toe nodded their heads at you before they started unlocking the various security checkpoints and locks for you to enter into a battlefield in its own right.

“Will one hour be enough, Personnel 002?” One of the guards asked.

“Not sure, just be alert in case I need to rush out.” You spoke stoically with indifference.

Step by step, you walked in, announcing loudly of your arrival to the individual inside. The doors closed behind you and locked you inside with what everyone feared. You sighed and put away your glasses since there was no need for it right now. The room was eerily silent and cold, something you were long used to. 

You took a few more steps, walking deeper into the room where it seemed to get darker and darker even though the lights in all housed Hunters would be on 24/7 to monitor their actions and activities within the room. 

Just when your vision failed you to the point where you can’t see what was in front of you, you were enveloped in a pair of strong arms, your entire form effortlessly pulled back till your back was pressed against a firm wall of muscle one would call chest and abs. Hair tickled one side of your cheek and neck, you felt a breath cooed before a deep voice rang in your ear, “I’ve been waiting for my favourite Personnel~”

It wasn’t at all odd that your name was called as well, if it was someone like him, he’d know everything there was to know. In fact, everyone should be worshipping him right now for his controlled and well-mannered behaviour. Especially when he could have destroyed this entire facility and killed everyone in it within seconds if he so wished. 

“Jinwoo. I need to work, don’t bully the newcomers.” You sighed while looking to the side as if making eye contact with him. 

“I like it when you call me by name and not some code, thanks for that.” Jinwoo hummed as he played with your fingers. “I guess I’ll think about it. It’s a bit bored here, you understand.”

“You removed your straitjacket again.” You let him fiddle with your fingers as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “You’ll get caught one of these days and then it’ll be game over.”

“Igris helped me remove it. You know how they are with seeing me constrained and imprisoned here.” He chuckled and leaned back, but it turned out he was just taking a seat, presumably on his bed since you still couldn’t see anything in the darkness. “Don’t worry, I’ve made sure no one could see me free and they didn’t kill anyone. Yet.”

Every Hunter that was admitted into the EMI was evaluated and thoroughly investigated to create the perfect profile for reference. All their fighting style, powers and abilities, weapons of choice, gear type, and any other detail was accounted down. It was all for people to be prepared in case one would have an <Outrage> and they were needed to be countered by weaker Hunters. 

For Jinwoo, however, his profile was lacking to put it in the best terms. His mana levels were unmeasureable, yes, so he was placed as an S-Rank. Though, his powers and abilities were unknown. Since he was a Reawakened Hunter, most would assume he was the same class as he was as an E-Rank; a Fighter Class. But he exhibit <Telekinese> and <Shadow Manipulation> so he was placed as into Mage class.

That wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. 

You saw through his innocence and lie, uncovering his true powers and abilities. To be honest, even if you told your higher-ups of Jinwoo’s secrets, there was nothing they could do to counter it. Jinwoo was a league of his own and only you knew it. He was no mere S-Rank, he was definitely a National Level Hunter.

Ah, yes. The question as to why you don’t wear a mask or bother having done anything to hide your identity. It was not because you’ve been in one of the people who has been in service of EMI for the longest time or wanted something as shallow as respect from the newcomers or other coworkers. It was completely because you knew it was useless to hide when someone like Sung Jinwoo had his eyes on you.

“I’ll try and arrange a dungeon for you to raid.” You marked down on your phone while Jinwoo continued to treat you like a teddy bear.

“You have to join though. If you don’t…” Jinwoo’s voice went deeper as glowing eyes stared at you from the shadows, “I don’t know what I’ll do to get your attention…”

You nodded, pushing down the urge to flinch or jerk away from him. It was normal, something you expected but still unnerving to hear with your own ear from his lips. You swear this place made the Hunters mad in the head, it was a place that made them sick and mentally ill, it wasn’t actually helping them at all. “Yeah, of course. I’m sure everyone will be relieved to hear it.”

Jinwoo smirked as his arms tightened around you, his face buried between your neck and shoulder. “You’re the only reason I stay here. Remember that. If you leave here… Leave me… I’ll do what Thomas Andre did to America.”

Note: I can't help it, it was supposed to upload the requested ones first, but then this idea hit me like a truck (without the isekai part), so now here it is. There are like 2 requested stories written and ready to be posted, but I'm double checking and stuff. Hope you like this AU/idea.

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (none at the moment)

[primofate]

Confessions Series - Part 1: Overheard [Genshin Impact Male Characters]

Note: Welp I had the itch to write again so here I am. Though sleep deprived because baby keeps waking up every 3 hours to feed... I wanted to do this haha. Based on @soulprompts “I love you” prompts. What other character should I do?

Warnings: haven’t written in a while please excuse and tell me about pronoun slips, I’m sleep deprived, not proofread, some are just concepts of liking someone, having a crush on them, while some are full blown love confessions. SOME ARE ANGSTY, chose only the male characters I wanted to write for instead of forcing myself to do all of them.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader  

Other works in this series: (Part 2 - Description)

Scenario: Talking to a friend about how you feel about him. Unbeknownst to you, he was listening, hidden round the corner. What does he do?

Aether

“He’s sweet,” You simply answer when asked what you like about Aether. “I mean, he’s a simple guy. He’s not a mystery, it’s not hard to read him nor to get along with him. I guess that’s one of the reasons why a lot of people like him.” 

“Uhuh,” your friend drawls, their head lazily resting on their hand. “but you don’t just like Aether. You seriously LIKE him,” 

You’re rendered speechless by the statement for a second, tripping over your first words, “Well--I mean--” and as if realizing you’re making a fool of yourself by speaking in garbles, you recover. “Yeah, I guess...” You don’t know why you admit to it, but it’s not like your friend didn’t already know.

What he does:

Is tempted to immediately walk up to you and reconfirm the conversation.

Stops himself for a minute and replays the whole conversation in his head, probably once, twice and maybe a third time.

Second guesses himself, but when he finally goes through all possible options, he realizes there’s no mistaking the overheard confession.

All the while, Paimon is nagging him to go talk to you. “You didn’t hear wrong! Stop thinking too much, hurry and go!” Ends up being pushed out into the open by his flying companion.

“Erm...Ahem” he coughs into his fist. “I...didn’t mean to eavesdrop...Y/N, sorry, but... can we continue this conversation somewhere else? Somewhere...a little more private?” and the shy smile he gives you is a tell tale sign that he had most likely felt the same.

Albedo

“His schedule is always busy. He has his hands full with Klee, on top of all the work he needs to do,” was your excuse to your friend when asked why you haven’t confessed to the alchemist yet. “I don’t think Albedo has time for this type of thing, you know? He doesn’t need a distraction.”

What he does:

His logical side agrees that he doesn’t need a distraction.

But the other part of him doesn’t mind if its you.

Pauses for a moment, thinks about it for a second, before confronting you about it just minutes later.

“...Schedules can be made flexible, Y/N,” you jump at his sudden voice. “Just as distractions...can sometimes be a good thing,” Albedo stretches a hand out to you. “...Care to test how good of one you can be to me?” 

Alhaitham

“Y/N, Alhaitham is FAR from stupid. There’s no way he hasn’t figured out that you have a crush on him,”

“Shush!!” You swerve around to your friend, ducking a little, as if that would help you become invisible. “People could be listening, besides, if that’s true, then it’s even worse. It means that he knows, and probably has no interest in me, so let’s just forget about it, ok?” 

What he does:

..................................No he doesn’t know. Sure he’s smart but............he could be dense when it came to these things. That, or he just didn’t know what to do.

Does not confront you about it immediately. In fact he turns around and walks away without being spotted, opting to think about his next steps instead of just rushing into the conversation.

Lo and behold a few days later he’ll show up in front of you with his usual stoic expression.

“Y/N,” he starts, and you freeze on the spot, looking up at him, blinking. 

“Y-Yes?” You haven’t seen nor heard from him in days and as usual, you attributed it to him being busy. Little did you know that he had been mulling over how to talk to you.

“I heard your conversation with (your friend) the other day,” straightforward was his answer to everything, even in this particular situation. 

It takes you a few seconds to internalize his words. You’re not even sure which conversation he means. You talk to (your friend) a lot. Your brows start to furrow in confusion, until he clarifies. 

“...I wouldn’t say that I completely have no interest in you,” he starts, and your shoulders tense up, now realizing which conversation it was. You could feel your cheeks start to burn, all you wanted to do was run away. 

Alhaitham holds back a sigh, “...Anyway, here is no place to talk about this... I’ll meet you at Puspa Cafe tonight, if you’re free,” 

You’re FAR from stupid too, and knew exactly what he was trying to do.

Ayato

“Besides why would the Lord Commissioner even look at someone like me?” you hiss at your friend who was trying to persuade you that Ayato also had the hots for you. It just seemed a little delusional to you.

“He takes the chance to rile you up every time he sees you. He’s obviously doing it on purpose,” your friend counters. You roll your eyes up to high heaven.

“He does that to everyone...” you conclude, knowing that Ayato had the habit of--though you don’t know if intentionally--giving his servants a scare. 

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to be so jealous,” your friend quips back, you send them a quick glare before going back to doing your own work.

What he does:

Doesn’t even bat an eye. Smirks as he hears the whole story. 

Confidently reveals his presence to the two of you, chuckling.

“Jealousy doesn’t usually paint a beautiful colour,” he starts, the overly pleasant smile on his face. You straighten up immediately, eyes changing into saucers when you realize he had heard the whole thing. You open your mouth to explain, but he beats you to it.

“But I must say it looks a little different on you, Y/N, almost charming,” The side of his lip quirks up the slightest bit into a subtle grin. You bite your lip, there he is again trying to rile you up, maybe (your friend) was right. 

“...Is there anything I can do for you Lord Commissioner?” you ask, trying to stray away from the subject. He only chuckles. 

“You’ll find that there are a LOT of things you can do for me, Y/N. Start by accompanying me to tea, hm?” He wasn’t really asking, it was almost a command. 

You wished your friend snickering on the side would just shut up.

Cyno

“...He’s a little intimidating don’t you think? I don’t know why you like him so much,” your friend comments, slacking off on their pile of paperwork. You roll your eyes at them. 

“Maybe because he works hard, unlike other people,” you shake your head a little. 

“As General Mahamatra he’s supposed to work hard. Just admit that you have weird tastes.” your friend counters, still procrastinating on their share of work.

“Okay, so what if he’s a little vicious in his ways? He’s just doing his job. Now, it would help me if you started doing yours as well,” 

What he does:

Doesn’t know what to do.

Stands hidden for quite a long time. The subject has already moved on and away from him.

Torn between revealing himself now or later. 

Can’t think properly so exits from the situation and comes back later that same day, when you’re still working with your friend.

As he approaches your table, your friend notices him first. (Your friend) nudges you with their elbow, tilting their chin up to let you know that someone was approaching. 

You pick your head up, and feel yourself go rigid when you see that it’s Cyno. At first you think to yourself that he might not be here to talk to you, maybe he’s just about to walk by...but he stops in front of your table and you’re left to wordlessly look up at him.

There’s a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

“...I value the high praise that you give me,” he starts and you immediately want to duck under the table and hide.

He heard. 

“O-Oh, G-General Mahamatra, you heard that...It’s...nothing, hard work deserves to be praised...” you avert your gaze down to the papers you were working on, pretending to continue and be busy with them. 

There was an awkward pause, your eyes darting up towards him for a second, checking if he was still looking at you, before breaking away again and furiously flipping through papers.

“...Do you want to play some TCG?” 

“Huh?” You end up with an incredulous look on your face, trying to gauge if he was serious. His face is still blank, but the usual tenseness in the way he carried himself gave way for a barely seen relaxation. It was hard to spot, but it was there. 

You ended up sighing a little in what you could only describe as relief, giving him a lopsided smile. “Sure, but go easy on me, I haven’t played in a while,”

“That’s fine. Perhaps a daily practice session will do you good,”

Dainsleif

“Mysterious, aloof, disappears into thin air... A man like that? You probably should stay away, Y/N. You don’t know what he dabbles in,” (Your friend) warns, looking at you with genuine concern. 

“Perhaps he has some secrets...but I don’t think he’s a bad guy at all. I’ve spent some time conversing with Dainsleif here and there,” you continue to wipe the tables, not noticing that the man you were talking about had long entered the tavern already and was now standing behind the two of you.

“At least he’s handsome, there’s that,” (Your friend) adds. 

“Sure, but that’s not the only reason I like him,” you laugh.

What he does:

Wonders if he heard the conversation right and overanalyzes what you mean by “like” him.

Either way it stirs a strange emotion in him, one that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Prefers to get things over with and thinks there’s no harm in confronting you immediately.

You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Thinking that it was a customer you turn around with a pleasant smile, only for it to slowly dwindle down into a shocked expression.

Dainsleif.

“Y/N,” he nods his head towards you casually. You gulp, force a smile, and nod back. “Hi, you’re early today,” just as your friend slips away from the conversation. Dainsleif doesn’t even spare them a glance.

He doesn’t have much to say about your comment of him being early. He doesn’t particularly know why he was early today either. Perhaps...fate would have him hear the conversation between you and (Your friend).

“Yes, well, it looks like there were benefits to being early today,” he meets you eye to eye, the intensity in his gaze almost makes you blush from your neck all the way up to the top of your head, but you fought the giddiness back. 

“...What can I get you?” there’s a shiver that threatens to run up your spine, wondering if your deflection was successful. Dainsleif closes his eyes momentarily, before opening them with a strange sense of courage. 

“Your company,”

Diluc

“It’s been years,” (Your friend) says, the two of you looking up at the massive oak tree of Windrise. They glance at you from the side of their eye before continuing. “Are you still in love with Diluc?”

There’s a breeze that passes, almost melancholic, and partly whispered of sorrow. “...I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.” You pick your hand up to rub at your arm. “Jean, Kaeya, Diluc and I...So many things have changed since we were kids...but I don’t think that spot for Diluc will ever go away,”

“Does he know, at least?” (Your friend) asks and you half scoff. 

“I’m not sure, I get the feeling he does, but doesn’t act on it. Which is why...maybe the only way to solve this emptiness is to leave Mondstadt altogether.” 

“Out of sight, out of mind huh?” (Your friend) claps your back, and turns around to start walking away with you.

What he does:

Internally a mess of emotions. Doesn’t know where to start. 

but he’s just standing there and he’s stuck watching (your friend) and you turn around to come face to face with him. 

He looks at you, a wave of memories and emotions flashing through his mind all at once, it almost overwhelms him. 

“D-Diluc,” you stutter, heart freezing in your chest. You see him take a steadying breath in, prying his gaze away from you and over to (Your friend).

“(Your friend), could you give us a minute?” he asks. (Your friend) obliges, passing you a quick glance before going ahead on their own. Another breeze runs by, ruffling his long red hair. 

“...I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” you start, and yet he doesn’t say anything, prompting you to continue talking. “...You don’t have to think about it too much, it’s just silly--”

“I wasn’t sure,” he cuts you off, eyes drawn to the ground now. “I wasn’t sure...if you really felt that way.” 

The statement somehow exasperates you. “You weren’t sure? All those times I stayed by your side when everyone else left--” then it hits you. “Or were you scared, Diluc?”

The quick grimace in his expression tells you the answer. His reply comes a few seconds later, “I was, I still am,” but he picks his head up, and finally looks you straight in the eye. “...but this time...” his fists clench on his side. “This time give me the chance to show you how much I really care about you,”

He was not going to lose you too.

Itto

“Seriously?! Itto? Arataki Itto? Are you for real?” (Your friend) announces to nearly half of the food stall, the other customers swerving around to look at the two of you. 

"Oh, say it a bit louder why don’t you?” You roll your eyes at your friend and continue eating.”

“Sorry. I just--Out of all the people you could choose, your huge crush is on that big brute??” your can tell by the look on your friend’s face that they think you have weird tastes.

What he does:

Butts in without even thinking of the conversation. Has no clue what’s going on.

“Crush?!”

You and your friend startle, swerving around to see none other than the oni with his hands on his hips. “Y/N?! You planning on crushing me?!” then he guffaws with laughter, slapping his knees in the process. “Yeah right, you’re no match for me!”

Your previously gaped open mouth slowly closes and your shoulders relax, sighing. You’re a little disappointed he doesn’t get it at all. Your friend shakes their head with a long sigh. “You stupid oaf, we don’t mean it that way...” 

Itto’s head tilts sideways, a genuinely confused look on his face. “No? Then... Watcha all talkin about?” 

You grab your friend’s arm and pull them forward the slightest bit. “It’s not important! Actually, we better get going--”

“Y/N has a CRUSH on you, idiot! Y/N LIKES you!” Your friend explodes, patience long gone. 

Itto blinks at the confession, his eyes darts towards you, “...Oh,” then there’s the slight tugging at his chest, he can’t help but beam and smile silly. “Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself Y/N! I like you too!”

You’re not sure if he really understood the confession in its entirety. 

Kaeya

“It’s all just fun and games with Kaeya. It doesn’t mean anything,” you laugh sheepishly, yet you rub the back of your neck a little.

“...Do you want it to be just fun and games?” your friend chides, and there’s a moment of silence. The two of you just sitting there already knowing the answer, it’s almost uncomfortable, until your friend sighs. 

“...Let’s change the subject,” 

What he does: 

responds immediately. Will not wait a second longer to come out of his hiding place and ask about what he just heard.

“How about let’s not?” Kaeya emerges out of nowhere, slipping into the seat next to you at the cafe. His poise is confident and instantly his head lazily places itself into the palm of his hand, gaze lingering at you. 

“Snowflake, I had no idea you felt like that,” his voice is smooth like ice and you bite your lip to keep yourself from saying something stupid.

“...I didn’t say anything though?” you countered, trying to evade the conversation. Your friend watches on with interest. 

“Silence speaks volumes, Y/N,” Kaeya scoots even closer to you, your shoulders touching each other. However, he maneuvers his arm around to lay on the seat behind you. “So if you’re opposed to what I’m about to do, better speak up,”

He leans closer, inch by inch, he waits for you to say something.

You stay silent.

He grins.

Scaramouche

“Hat guy? He’s brutal. But who am I to comment on your tastes, Y/N. You’ve always been weird,” (Your friend) chides, watching as you go over the bookshelf again. 

“Stop calling him that,” You murmur under your breath, more focused on finding the right book for your research. “That’s not his only distinctive feature, you know,” you continue, still engrossed in looking for a book.

“Oh? What else are his “distinctive features”?” (Your friend) drawls, rolling their eyes. 

You hum a little, then plop on the ground cross-legged, wanting to get a better look on the last row of books of the Akademiya’s library. “...His eyes,” you simply answer. “They’re a beautiful shade of violet-blue...He’s always glaring at someone half of the time but he actually has very pretty eyes,” 

There’s silence and you finally get the peace you need to concentrate. However, that silence is broken by a voice that you know all too well.

What he does:

is amused.

thinks its cute pathetic.

will still look angry but will have a hard time actually being angry.

will be cocky.

“My eyes, huh?”

It’s hard to completely turn around in your sitting position, so you do the best you can to turn, side eye landing on Scaramouche’s form. He has his arms crossed as usual, but there’s a smug smirk on his face. “Didn’t know it was that fascinating to you, bookeater,”

It was supposed to be an insulting nickname for you, who always had your nose in a book, but you took no offense to it at all.

You didn’t know what to say, so you continued staring at him. He being the anti-social person that he was, just stared back. There was a big gap of silence before he felt that it was becoming too awkward. 

“...What’re you looking for?” he blurted out.

“...A book...”

“Are you stupid? Of course you’re looking for a book. I meant what’s the title?” There his usual sneer was back again and he unfolded his arms to look at you unimpressively. 

“...A History of Inazuma: Volume 2...” you meekly replied, slowly realizing that he actually heard you praising him.

“You’re in the wrong section,” the exasperated sigh he gives out causes you to wince, and you turn away back to the bookshelf as if to shield you from all this embarrassment. 

“If it’s about Inazuma, you should just be asking me,” you blink as your peripheral catches sight of an outstretched hand. You tilt your head to see that he’s offering his hand, but his face is blank.

“...Well? Come on. I don’t have all day,”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling, something about the way he said it sounds threatening, but also slightly playful. But that’s just the way he was. 

You accept his hand, and he pulls you up easily.

Xiao

“Oh so that’s why you’re coming over more frequently...” (Your friend) grins, and you wave your hands around to tell them to quiet down. Adepti had good hearing after all.

“Well, I’m also coming over cause Verr Goldet needs more help these days in the kitchen. You guys are getting so much customers these days that Yanxiao has a hard time by himself,”

“Uhhuuhhhhhh, sure...was it also Verr Goldet who told you to try and master the Almond Tofu recipe from Yanxiao? Cause you’re awfully hell bent on trying to learn that recipe, according to Yanxiao,” 

You fall silent, feeling heat crawling up your neck. “I--” You start, searching for an excuse, but realized there was no escaping this one. “I just want to do something nice for Xiao, that’s all,” you innocently quip. “I...I know I can’t help him much, but maybe just cooking his favourite dish will help, even a little,”

(Your friend) smiles a little, knowing that the adepti probably heard everything. “That’s nice of you, Y/N. You must care about him a lot,” 

What he does:

once upon a time he would do absolutely nothing. because getting involved with humans is something he shouldn’t do.

But now he bides his time, and observes if it’s safe to open up. 

He wouldn’t outright thank you at first, but he’ll slowly show up in front of you a little more everyday.

He’s rather awkward, so at first he only nods his head as thanks when you leave the bowl of almond tofu on the ledge.

Eventually when he realizes you’re not going to stop cooking for him he goes the extra mile to do something simple for you too.

He places a stalk of your favourite flower on the ledge, right before you come to put down his bowl of almond tofu. 

I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Check it out here:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BVD1VVFP

Consider supporting me to read some exclusive fics:

https://ko-fi.com/primofate

buymeacoffee.com/lenaprimofate

Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

[kinkybunch-kinky-bunch]

No minors no minors no minors

And for those in the back…no minors

Yes, I’m real

Yes, I’m a seller.

Unless you’re a female who sends pics and videos.

In my 20’s. USA.

Yes, I’m kinky (about the kinkiest you’ll find)

Yes, I’m a switch

Yes, I answer DM’s and asks (please ask me stuff haha I love the exhibition of the asks)

Yes, I sell. Custom pics, videos, writing, sexting, dirty panties (mine smell the best😘) you name it

Limits? Yes. Everyone has them. Red flag if someone says they don’t.

Mine are: minors (again….can’t understate), blood, scat, anything that will get me hospitalized, anything that’ll get me arrested, animals

I do sexting sessions and on those I have no limits (except don’t reach out to me minors).

I respect tumblr’s rules and I will be careful and respectful of them with what I post inherently.

But fansly has less rules and I show all there (yep even squirt up close and personal for ya haha I show all)

I am thinking of making a sexting/naughty group chat…would you join?;)

[lovrsm]

ɢᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜꜱ

sum: The story from media pov for the GORGEOUS writingg, I had so much fun making these! let me know if you want part two ad Happy New Years Day!

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

warning: gossip and typos🫨

Media AU

Spotify - Apple Music

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ - ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ ᴀᴜ

y/n_norris

Liked by landonorris and 729,405 others

y/n_norris Took you long enough, not trying to call you all blind but… I definitely am😛🫨

view all 895 comments

y/n.fan not her laughing at us fools 😭

user92 did she just called us blind?😦

user892 I mean… she’s not wrong 🤷‍♂️

F1 That was quite a surprise 😅

norris.wow YOU DIDNT KNOW EITHER?

F1 Trust us, none of us did.

landonorris 😈

user1943 Lando woke up and chose violence today

user88 He surely did.

October 12 2020

landonorris

Liked by y/n_norris, charles_leclerc and 203,042 others

landonorris Everyone knows the oldest is the hottest. Sorry peanut🤗

View all 4 comments (restriction)

y/n_norris Mum was not happy seeing the caption

landonorris just saying facts

y/n_norris you know lying is wrong, Lando 😞

landonorris 🙄

October 12 2020

y/n_norris

Liked by F1 , landonorris and 579,901 others

y/n_norris 🥳

tagged landonorris & francisca.cgomes

View all 8,902 comments

francisca.cgomes ���� ❤️

y/n_norris 💗

user829 manifestation came quickly

user103 I DID IT. No need to thank me guys🤭

landonorris don’t steal my friends 😭

pierregasly Dont steal my girlfriend 🥲

francisca.cgomes Late

y/n_norris Late

December 1 2020

y/n_norris

Liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, landonorris and 689,0821 others

y/n_norris …so it goes like this, you ask I provide, I don’t think any of you are ready, or are you? 🖤

view all 18,028 comments

charles_leclerc can’t wait to know!

liked by the creator

user91 PLEASE LET ME KNOW THAT I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE READING THIS. HUH?!? HUUUH?!!

user819 No one pinch me. Let me live here. 🤫

user10 IS THIS HAPPENING?!?!😧😧😧 AND Y/N LIKED🤯🤯

landonorris NO EXPLANATION…🫨

liked by creator

user301 I love this duo fr😭🫶

user182 Lando tell me whats going on I don’t understand🤥

user76 TF do you mean charles leclerc knows what is happening. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!

user23 they’re in love (manifesting)

user35 PLEASE. 😩😩

January 19 2021

y/n_norris

Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, F1, scuderiaferrari, redbullracing and 1,017,921 others

y/n_norris I’ll stop playing with you guys, I love seeing how freaked out you are about my posts. Anyway, Reputation out June 16! With all of our love and dedication…🖤

tagged jackantanoff

view all 2,838 comments

user39 not @charles_leclerc liking the second this comes out😭 please HAHA

jackantanoff it was more than a pleasure working with you two!🔥

liked by creator

y/n_norris hope we see you again😉

charles_leclerc 🔥🔥

user189 THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN JACK?! YOU MEAN Y/N AND CHARLES?!?!! I am screaming right now holy shit.

user810 HUH, HUH?!?! WHAT DID I MISS.

user298 Charles is a master at piano, I just know that´s what this means

liked by creator

user09 y/n just gave you a like, I’m a 100% sure you’re right.

user76 Any of you notices lando gave us spoilers? “no explanation…🫨

user5 HE IS A MASTERMIND (tell me you got it 😔)

charles_leclerc 🖤

liked by creator

scuderiaferrari Can’t wait to hear this!

redbullracing Same here 👈

mclaren she’s with us, remember?

mercedesamgf1 we will need much more speakers, we are listening to this 🔝

scuderiaferradi yk maroon is just another tone of red, right? (y/n please, we loveee you)

F1 Signing y/n to do a show at this point 😇

lewishamilton please do🙏

liked by creator

maxverstappen1 y/n, when are we doing a duet? P would love it.

y/n_norris anything for P!🫶

carlossainz55 I can sing like maria carey, just throwing that out there…

liked by creator

user819 I just love every single F1 interaction here.🥺

April 16 2021

jackantanoff

liked by charles_leclerc, y/n_norris, sabrinacarpenter and 298,920 others

jackantanoff it was a pleasure working (and thirdweeling) with you two, this 4 months have been absolutely crazy, and I hope this isn’t the end of our journey😤🖤🔥

tagged charles_leclerc & y/n_norris

view all 1,182 comments

charles_leclerc amazing work pal, thank you for everything! 🔥

liked by creator

y/n_norris we love you jack, thank you for supporting and having with us this crazy adventure 🫶

jackantanoff you still have to pay my therapy, those lyrics MEAN something and I was mostly there for it. I can’t unsee what I have seen.

user10 NUH UH, JACK HARD LAUNCHING AND HAVING TRAUMA BECAUSE OF THESE TWO?! 💀💀 dying.

user93 Jack knows what to give to the people, we LOVE you Jack, thank you for these pictures 😊

liked by creator

user46 I'm confused, what did Charles do? Play the piano or f- and be the muse of y/n

y/n_norris BOTH. (All the background piano was recorded by Charlie, he did an amazing job!)

user87 This is so cute, UGH

June 20 2022

charles_leclerc

liked by jackantanoff, y/n_norris, vancityreynolds, blakelively, lewishamilton and 982,039 others

charles_leclerc thank you @jackantanoff, the soft launch is now ruined. Anyhow, look at this GORGEOUS woman I get to call mine❤️ Je t'aime, ma princesse, ma seule et unique.

tagged y/n_norris

y/n_norris ❤️❤️❤️

vancityreynolds y/n, he wrote you a whole ass paragraph and you just wrote this? Disappointed 😔

charles_leclerc DID YOU JUST COMMENT ON MY POST?!😨 y/n I’m freaking out.

y/n_norris sorry DAD🙄, just reminding you I wrote a whole album abt him. Charles is kindly asking when are we going out together? (I need to see @blakelivley)

blakelivley see you in a few days you lovebirds 😉

user991 HAHAHA charles freaking out abt Blake and Ryan commenting is so real🤓🤓

landonorris 🎶there is always a duo in a trio🎶 and, y/n EW THE SONGS?!

y/n_norris Grow up lando 😤

landonorris I don’t need to hear how good Charles is in bed, E. W. 🤢🤕

charles_leclerc sorry mate😅😅

user918 💀

-

PART TWO?!?!

-

Taglist

@delicatepeanutsublime @leclercera16 @ironspdy @architect-2015 @buendiabebeta @zlut1r

[lucysarah-c]

Not sure if this is like, allowed to be answered and feel free not to of course. But reaction to Levi finding out someone tried to assault his s/o, or just hurting them in general like a more targeted instance rather than a battle, even before they are partners and could just be friends, you think more of a quick death or Levi would get sorta sadistic?

Have a great one 🐞 and thanks for always feeding us amazing works

Hi dear! Ah, no one has called me "bug" in years!!! Haha, thank you—that was so sweet of you!

Don’t thank me! Thank you for reading and stopping by my blog.

I really like this ask… Maybe because I’ve had a similar scenario in mind for my fic, but I just can't seem to find the right approach to it. I’ll try my best here! I’m 100% a "violence doesn’t solve anything" kind of person, and even when someone is truly horrible, I can't stand seeing them get hurt, especially physically. I’m that "sensitive" type, sorry haha. I feel Levi would say something similar to what my mother always tells me: "Don’t try to be more Catholic than the Pope" (a saying we have in Argentina, meaning "Don’t be too nice because people will take advantage of you. Be a little bit tough when necessary").

So, I’ll be completely honest with you: No, this ask doesn’t make me uncomfortable. But I do believe that Levi would resort to violence in certain situations. Levi killed a couple of guys just because they messed with Isabel’s hair. If his special someone (be it a friend, girlfriend, etc.) got hurt or was assaulted, Levi wouldn’t wait to see if she filed a report or went to the police.

He would simply stare at her and demand, "Who was it? Do you know them? Can you identify them?"

If it happened recently and she still shows signs of the struggle, she might try to downplay it. "It’s over now… It doesn’t hurt that much—"

"I didn’t ask if it hurt or if it was over. I asked who did it," he’d reply firmly.

She might avoid giving straight answers, trying to brush it off, perhaps out of shock, embarrassment, or fear—fear for Levi and the trouble he might get into. "I already filed a report and—"

"Have you ever seen any of those bastards behind bars because of a report?" Levi would counter. "Who was it? Give me a name."

"I pressed charges—"

"I’m sorry to break it to you, but men aren’t scared of charges. They know they can get away with it. They know they have friends who will bail them out, who will erase the charges, who will stand up for them," Levi explained. "Do you know what the only thing those assholes fear is? Being treated and beaten down the way they treat others. Beasts like them only understand their own language."

If the person responsible is someone Levi can’t directly deal with, like a higher-ranking officer or an MP, he’d still find a way to make them pay. He’d beat them up so thoroughly and probably in public to humiliate them. Levi knows the military can't afford to lose him, so while he might not be able to kill them, he’d ensure they couldn't sit straight for a long time. The most sadistic I can imagine him being is if he beats them so badly that they end up begging for mercy. And then Levi, lifting them by their hair, would say, "Don’t beg me—beg her."

Now, if the perpetrator is a regular citizen… they’re dead without a second chance. I can’t see Levi being sadistic in the sense of torturing someone, but he wouldn’t give them a quick death either.

So, that’s it. I hope I managed to write this well enough!

Thank you so much!

Have a lovely day.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Hey, so I remembered in one of your earlier post you said something along the lines of souls women only really falling into the helpless victim or serious sword lady trop. And how Ema was a great subversion of it, I was wondering if you had any thoughts on

I’m making a souls-like and trying to avoid the pitfalls where I can

Btw, I love your art so much I would love to support you but I am broke

sorry i let this reply marinate in the docs for months (along with a lot of other replies like im having a catalogue of Fromsoft replies that read like thesis at this point *crying* my job is not letting me sit down and edit them) but here it is.

firstly, thank you for your message, kind encouragement already means a lot to me, so don’t worry about not being able to support me or anything ! After all I’m not putting out any new books or fan merch haha.

Here is a whole rant about Ema but somehow my grievances with how they handle Malenia's story in comparison to Messmer also pops up.

Regarding your question about Ema, I love her because of how complete her story feels and how her personal motivation and personality are written as coherently as the male characters.

She’s a war orphan who did her best to survive, learned the sword from the best swordman but with the only purpose is to kill demons. Ema saw firsthand how violence and meaningless killing did to people, so her aim can be seen as trying to offer those lost souls a mercy death, so they don’t have to suffer as a mindless demon for eternity (as in shura ending).

Yet, she's actually more interested in being a doctor & saving life and it’s not something expected of her because she’s a woman or whatnot, she chose that.

(+ she's skilled enough with the blade that it shows in her mannerism to the point Wolf, who had never seen her hold a sword, knows that she's good with one).

she was ready to kill Scuptor - someone akin to a parental figure to her, should he succumb to grief and hatred. because she loved him. not to mention she saw Tomoe - someone in a way is also her mentor, tried to take her own life, while her childhood friend Gennichiro slowly went apeshit. like that girl witnessed so many insane stuffs & they spur her to be strong & steadfast in her ideal to protect her loved ones, even when it means to lay them to rest by her own hands.

her dialogue in Shura ending "maybe i should have killed you long ago" feels like being punched in the guts to me, because she knew Wolf turning out that way meant that somewhere along the way, all of them had failed him, had ignored the signs that all the killings he was tasked to carry out was taking a toll on him. And so she took upon herself the responsibility to offer him a mercy death, even as it broke her heart.

It’s the passionate drive and decisions made as her own person, not out of blind devotion to another character, and how much we know of that because the game let us find more about her, that makes her stands out from the epic sword lady category, while the violence and steely resolve she was capable of makes her stands out from the helpless maiden one.

-kinda lose the plot here with Elden Ring rant jumping out-

This is one of the main points I have about the difference between Messmer and Malenia, how even though their stories parallel each other, I think Messmer has the better writing and gets a more complete story. He’s super devote to Marika, but in his own way, not what Marika wants of him. Evidently with how he still fights the Tarnished because he deems us unworthy, despite knowing Marika sanctioned us for Lordship.

We see a lot of sides to him outside of just a filial son, his rage and sorrow and love and a moment of stubborn selfishness that results in him willingly become a curse that clings to Marika than to let go. We see his relationship with other characters and even though his love for Marika outweighs all else, it doesn’t negate completely others that exist outside of it.

And precisely because of that, it’s more heartbreaking to see despite all these connections he has with other people, he yearns to be reunited with his Mother above all else. That kind of devotion is more hard hitting to me than the writing for the Empyrean twins.

Like, Malenia…. outside of Finnlay (whose description says more about herself than shedding any new light on Malenia) and the mentor that we actually don’t even know much about yet, what are other personal connection she has outside of Miq? I could argue the Marika’s Soreseal in the Haligtree was meant for her and that she still loved her Mother in some kind of way all I want, but at the end of the day that’s a headcahon I have to theorize from item placement, and not many ppl will notice that. We don’t know for sure what Malenia thinks of anyone else but her twin and it drives me up the wall.

Another comparison I want to bring up is DS2 Lucatiel.

I fr think even Lucatiel gets a better story arc than Malenia, despite also largely being shaped by her relationship with her brother.

Loss frightens me no end. Loss of memory, loss of self. If I were told that by killing you, I would be freed of this curse… Then I would draw my sword without hesitation. I don't want to die, I want to exist. I would sacrifice anything, anything at all for this. It shames me, but it is the truth. Sometimes, I feel obsessed… with this insignificant thing called "self". But even so, I am compelled to preserve it. Am I wrong to feel so? Surely you'd do the same, in my shoes?

She is trying to find her brother, but at the same time wrestling with her own troubles and limitations. We get to know a lot of her own motivation and her fear. I mean one could argue that it's because she's an NPC while Malenia is a boss, but the same thing could also be said for Messmer like I explained above.

-back to Ema-

As the extra sauce, I love that Ema boss music has such layers to it. the theme of her - someone clinging to her humanity to the very end because she has ppl love & support her, also acts as an elegy for Wolf's lost of humanity, of him not being able to escape the abuse trauma he grew up in. its opening instrument also appears in Demon of Hatred's OST. Her presence and theme affects other characters’ life, and we get to see her marks on a personal level in the story’s overarching narrative.

Which is the same as how Marika’s presence is everywhere in the Elden Ring OST, that little soft piano. A little in Radagon’s theme, in Shaman’s Village, in the final DLC boss ost where the female vocals starts belting out “Hail, Marika the Eternal”, in a boss arena where she had walked through to scavenge the remains of her fallen family and ascended to an existence she knew would kill her all the same, but she would do it again every single time. Walking down that hell with her eyes wide open.

When a character that could get me to write paragraphs about like that… man you know how much the writing cooks.

[umadosedepascal]

NEW MEXICO | Pedro Pascal X f!reader | PART IX

Written by Santa Trindade

Banner by @missyorkswhore

Made in Brazil

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro asks you to spend his birthday together with you. You just go.

wc: 3.3k

rating/warnings: [pure smut no plot][unprotected PIV][oral sex m/f] [alcohol comsuption][Spitting] [Overstimulation][Pedro’s POV on the first part]

a/n: The new look needed a fic. Simple like that he just wants to devasted you haha

5:45AM

The alarm rings, I get up from the bed reluctantly, regretting the night before with those tequila shots.

_Pedro, why did you forget to shave yesterday?

I look at myself looking in the hotel mirror, dying to go back to bed.

_Can I shave without any cuts? It's been so long…

I take off my PJs and my phone vibrates with countless messages, it was her.

*Hi P. When will you be free? I want to see you. It's been a while...*

Even though I'm in another state... fuck it.

*Hi my love, I'm in New Mexico for work... what are your plans? *

While I let the steam of the hot water invade the bathroom, I wrap a towel around my waist and take a pic in the mirror and then send it.

*6 a.m., recording is what I have for today...*

I know her so well.

*Wow! What a hottie, I’m craving you now...*

I'm already late and need to shave it off, so I hold my phone on top of the sink and call her.

I can see that she's on the couch.

"Weren't you at home?" I ask raising an eyebrow and fixing the phone on the countertop

"I told you babe, I went out with friends, we went to a bar, but I'm already here and wanting you" she smiles and lowers the camera showing me the dress she wears.

_Does she need to be that hot?

"I would love to be there now, I have wonderful ideas of what I would do with you on this couch…"

I just look at her and move away, giving her a view of my shape, I take off the towel and open the shower door and enter, letting the hot water reach my body, giving me goosebumps for the temperature and for knowing that she is watching me.

"If I can't be with you on this couch, I thought you deserved a little show"

She squirms on the couch, biting her lip and just nodding her head without saying a word. I like the effect I have on her.

"Does that makes you horny, love? To see me like this?" I ask and squeeze my cock, my hand sliding slightly up and down

"Pedro, don't play with me like that!"

"Patience mama, patience" I say smiling.

An idea comes up, but I don't tell her, I just smile and as soon as I finish I pick up my phone

"Honey, I need to run, soon they'll be here calling for me, I can't be late"

"I know P, it's okay, call me back tonite." she smiles and we say goodbye, even if my cock protests wanting to feel that pussy, that mouth, I don't have time now.

As soon as I turn it off, I take the razor, the foam, moving the wet hair away from the forehead I face my reflex and start spreading the foam around my face.

It's been so long since I've taken my beard off that it takes me longer than necessary, taking care not to cut myself. As soon as I finish I feel different, a new Pedro maybe, the new look of the next few weeks, maybe months.

I take a pic and send her.

*This is Ted Garcia, nice to meet you. Please come and stay until Tues to spend my birthday with me? *

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*JAVIER? Is that you?*

You fall asleep and wake up at 3pm

Was it a dream? _

No, you get your phone and see that it was real.

Without thinking too much, you buy a ticket for the end of the day and get any hotel in the same city as Pedro.

*I’m getting there at the end of the night, where can I meet you?*

Hours go by and no message from him.

You are already at the hotel so to wait for an answer from Pedro, you get dressed and go down to the hotel bar and order a drink, it's already late at night and no sign of him.

1 AM

*Mama, oh you already here? Exhausting day. I can't wait to see you tomorrow. Dream of me*

Yes, it's frustrating but you understand his side and try to sleep without thinking too much about the day to come.

Waking up early the next day you have your breakfast with mimosa and lots of good food.

*Good morning, Javier. I mean... Ted...oops Pedro! Can I be your informant today? 😏*

A few minutes a very direct message appears on the screen.

*Second trailer, in the corner my name is at the door😉.*

Arriving in the scenographic city that is not that scenic, until then no one prevents you from walking around there, despite being temporarily restricted. Maybe everyone thinks you're part of the cast, since you're wearing bootcut jeans, a white T-shirt and leather boots. Would you be an impostor? As soon as you approach the trailer, a security guard will block you.

“Credentials?”

"No, I just..." you stutter thinking about how to explain until Pedro opens the door of the trailer and smiles

"She is with me!”

Pedro extend his arm to you, helping you climb the steps, he pulls you into the trailer and locks the door behind you. You can barely say hi to him and you are pushed to the door.

He presses his body against yours, his left hand going up your thigh to your waist, where he pulls you closer.

You can feel his cock hardening against his jeans.

"Pedro..." You say softly as he lowers his mouth down your neck, it's a new feeling, still feeling the mustache pinch the skin, but also feeling the softness of his face. The smell of perfume, aftershave lotion. The smell of his skin.

"I know." Pedro holds your face, looking and smiling at you, so you observe how he looks younger without a beard, how beautiful he is, his hair a little messy, his dark eyes full of lust, his breath panting.

"Hi," he says laughing, sticking his forehead to yours.

You pull him by his shirt, his lips hitting yours, his hands climbing up the back of your neck scratching slightly. His hands going up under your blouse, his thumbs drawing circles on the skin, leaving you goosebumps.

You turn around and sit on the couch and look at Pedro.

“You said you had wonderful ideas of what to do with me on a couch, well...show me"

"Motherfucker..." Pedro comes pushing you to lie on the couch, spreading kisses down your neck, pulling the strap off of your shirt to suck on the skin where he knows it will be marked.

He puts his hand under your shirt, going up until he reaches your breast, squeezing over your bra, teasing your nipples while he keeps kissing your neck.

You say panting between kisses and bites "Go show me... what would you do to me on the couch, huh?"

"I have 15 minutes before go shooting, but I promise I'll show everything tonite"

He is on top of you on the couch, taking off your shirt, spreading kisses around your breasts then you hold the waistband of his pants running your fingers through the button and open it urgently. "Leave it like this..." pulling his cock out of his underwear.

He moves away a little by pulling his jeans at the height of his thighs and moving your panties to the side, sliding two fingers inside your wet pussy.

"Yeah, like that..” you say in the midst of moans.

Now he presses his thumb on your clit. He looks at you with a smile on his face.

You slide your hands through his hair, messing up even more, your hands going down his face, the skin so soft.

"Why you so hot...hm"

Pedro speed up the movements of his finger saying

“Tonight…”

He helps you remove your pants and you intertwine your legs around his waist holding him to you.

You look down, his cock is drooling precum, pink head and burning with horniness.

You take it at the base of his cock and guide it to your entrance in a hurry. A moan that he releases in your ear is enough to make you even wetter.

“You're going to fuck me like this on the couch... I want to see it in the hotel bed, Javier...”

"Are you really going to call me Javier?" Pedro laughs against your neck, his thrusts are slow and firm.

"I will, you haven't changed anything, so I can cal-- oh my God! Pedro!" You can't even finish the sentence the moment Pedro fucks you harder, he holds your legs raising almost the height of his chest. His cock hitting your G.

"More, I need more, please…"

Pedro runs his tongue through your collarbone going up until he finds your lips, biting his lower lip he looks you in the eyes and says..

"Ask me, beg for my dick, but say my name when you moan…"

You beg, you are so horny that you would do whatever he wanted, I would say what he said. You would just obey.

He moves far enough away to open his shirt, he is sweaty, red. You stretch your hand to touch him but he is faster and holds you by the hip making you get on all fours, your arms resting on the sofa, your nails scratching the fabric in search of relief.

Pedro holds your hip and you hear the sound of him spitting, hot saliva running down your pussy, he slide in his cock and holds your hair, pulling you to glue your back to his chest.

"Come on love, give it to me, I'm dying to feel this pussy squeezing me, cumming on my cock…"

He runs his right hand through your body, skillful fingers circling your clit. It only takes a few seconds for you to cum moaning his name, Pedro covering your mouth with his left hand in a failed attempt to muffle the sounds.

"That, one more, one more and I promise you won't regret waiting until tonite."

Pedro fingers you again, your orgasm burning in your stomach, making your body tremble against his.

"That's it, mama, just like that…"

He holds you by squeezing your breasts and punching harder Pedro cums inside you, moaning in your ear talking about how he fucking missed you and won't stop until you can't take it anymore.

You fall on the couch, panting, sweaty and satisfied, for now.

"I’ve missed you…" he pulls you and kisses you while caressing your nipple.

"Me too, and I can't wait for more. Dinner and party?"

He smirks and nods, agreeing, kissing you again.

Pedro gets up and helps you get dressed, and then gets dressed.

"Okay, Mr Hollywood, go to work. You're not going to fool anyone with the face of someone who just came inside me."

"I'm a great actor love, I won a SAG Awards, remember?" You laugh at the way he pretends to hold a trophy.

You say goodbye and you decide to walk around the city before going back to the hotel and waiting for it.

9:00PM

Pedro sends you a message saying that he is in the lobby, but you are not ready yet and ask him to come up and wait for you in the room for a moment.

_What stupid idea was that? _

You don't even worry about dressing up straight anymore.

The moment he enters your room he already pulls you by the back of your neck with one hand and climbs with the other by your right thigh leading you towards the bed.

You can't resist, you already knew this would happen. "Was that your plan?" You question.

Throwing you on the bed and unbuttoning your pants and pulling you by your legs, Pedro licks alternating on your inner thighs until he reaches your pussy pulling your panties aside. Licking lightly, with wet kisses over your clit.

It's an exciting torture to see him rubbing himself on the mattress while sucking your pussy, the vision is surreal.

Between a moan and another that the two release, you say

"Pedro, I don't know what's better, seeing you sucking me or you rubbing yourself on the mattress"

With no answer, he looks you in the eyes and spits in your pussy and sticks his tongue deeper.

And with a deep voice he orders

"Cum for me.”

You take his hand guide to your breast so that he squeezes your nipple. It's not enough for him. Pedro reachs out his other hand and has both of your nipples being squeezed and pinched while fucking you with his tongue.

You cum, so intensely sinking your fingers into his hair that are already wet with sweat.

He looks at you with wet lips and chin…

"That's priceless…." you say moaning lazily.

Pedro gets on his knees in bed, running his hand through his lips, cleaning the remnants of your arousal.

He pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it in a corner on the floor.

You support your elbows on the bed looking at his body. The smooth skin, broad shoulders, the freckles on his wide chest and the small stripe of hair going down the waistband of the pants where you can clearly see his bulge pressing against the jeans.

Without taking his eyes off you, Pedro opens his belt, slowly opening the two buttons and pulling the zipper down.

"Pedro... I want to…"

Pedro looks into your eyes and holds your ankles, caressing your skin and smiling at you, he says

"What, cariño? What do you want? Tell me and I'll give to you…"

You don't say anything, you just smile and get on your knees on the bed, pushing Pedro to bed, you hold the waistband of his jeans, your fingers playing with the edge of his underwear, feeling his skin shiver when your nails touch him.

You pull out your pants and throw them in the corner where his shirt is.

You settle in between his legs, your nails stroking through his thighs, up and down, you feel how his body is tense, impossible to ignore the perfect vision of Pedro lying down, his hands behind his head. As relaxed as he tries to look, you know he's anxious, his cock outline in his white boxer underwear, the small pre-cum stain.

You slide your hands until you almost touch his balls, Pedro sighs, his cock twitches against the fabric of his underwear, you smile and bring your face closer to his cock, slowly pulling his underwear making his cock jump on your face.

His hard cock, the pink tip dripping pre cum, the side vein pulsing non-stop, begging for touch.

You hold his cock by the base, raising your hand until your thumb spreads the pre cum at the tip, Pedro moans and reaches his hand to caress your face.

"Please don't make me wait any longer" Pedro begs softly

You hold his cock and first lick it, taking it all wet from the tip, sucking the tip of the cock feeling Pedro tangle his hands in your hair, you swallow his cock until you feel it in your throat. Pedro moans loudly and squeezes your hair

"Oh baby, like that, swallow all my dick like that, fuck!"

You jerk him off while sucking him, with your free hand you caress his balls, Pedro moans, the sounds that come out of his mouth are pornographic, making your pussy get even more wet. You think you could make fun just seeing him like this, destroyed.

You stop and look at him with desire.

"What?" He asks as he caresses your face.

"Can you dim the light? You're making me lose my mind..."

He dims the lights on the side of the bed and goes to the mini bar taking a bottle of champagne and opens it, taking a long sip.

_He walking hard in the middle of room is too much for me I can’t even speak_

He goes back to bed and leaves the bottle on the bedside table, he kneels between your legs and holds his cock by the base and slides up and down over your pussy, pushing against your clit. He moans seeing the way your pussy wets his cock.

"Do you want more?"

“Yes..”

"How much more?"

“Everything..”

So he bends down and kiss you distributing licks on your jaw and neck.

"Slow down?"

Pedro slides his cock with a low moan, his hands holding your hip firmly, he fucks you with short and firm movements.

"Faster?" He asks smiling

You just nod your head taking your arms around the back of his neck pulling him down.

He wraps his arms around your waist making you arch your back and thrust in it deep once, twice.

You moan with pain and pleasure at the same time trying to get used to his cock and his movements.

Wiping one hand across his forehead hand with his other on your ass he fucks you harder, the sound that echoes in the room of skin with skin is exciting along with your moans.

"Come to me, mama.."

He takes his dick off of you with a grunt.

Feeling that sudden emptiness Pedro puts you on all fours grabbing your ass, he slides inside you again.

Your already soaked pussy is an easy target.

He holds you with one hand by the hair and another hand rubbing your clit while licking your neck saying words in your ear that you already can't understand.

He stops moving and you see that he stretches his hand, wait, is he picking up the bottle?

You turn your head to the right and look at the mirror in the closet, your pussy throbs with the vision

Pedro holding your hip with his left hand, slowly putting his cock in you while his right hand holds the bottle, taking several sips. You moan when you see him sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, your eyes go down to his chest, his belly and your eyes stop where he is in you, his cock going in and out, the sounds that your bodies make.

He takes the bottle out of his mouth and looks at you in the mirror…

"Happy Birthday to me mama" he smiles and drops the bottle on the floor, not caring about the mess, Pedro holds your hips with both hands, and goes hard and faster.

"Oh Pedro, please please don't stop!"

He turns you around, pulling your legs and putting it on his broad shoulders, then shove into you again deep and fast.

"So, baby? That's how you like my dick? Opening you all up? Soaking all my dick? Tell me"

His voice is low, hoarse and horny, he's a mess.

You can't say anything but moans and supplications that he doesn't stop, you're so close, your legs start to shake.

Pedro suck on his thumb and rub it on your clit, making circular and torturous movements.

"Fuck! Please, Pedro fuck me..”

"Damn, I love it when you beg for my cock, beautiful! Cum for me, babe"

He keeps circling your clit, his strong and fast thrusts lead you to orgasm, shouting his name as he bends down and holds your neck kissing you, he says between moans

"Look at me, I want to cum looking at you"

Pedro's moans are as high as yours, you feel the hot jets of cum flood your pussy, the way his cock throbs inside you. The way he looks at you as he cums, his lips half open, eyes fixed on you, his hand on your neck making the grip stronger.

"Fuck!"

He falls on you, your legs circle him, holding him as close as possible, you kiss his face, feeling him give a little kiss on your shoulder.

"For a 49 yr old man you can tire me" you laugh and Pedro bites your shoulder and comes out of you, a moan escaping from his lips. He lies next to you, pulling you to lay your head on his chest.

"I think this is one of the best birthdays I've ever had" he smiles and kiss you.

"Come babe, let’s take a shower and order food, I won't leave here anytime soon."

—————————————————

Thanks for being here and read our delusional fics, likes are appreciate, comments even more. If you want to ask anything, blast it!

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

It Had To Be You

Before I get into my big explaining rant, reblogs are very much appreciated! I know this is usually a rant blog but when I spend so long on a drawing I want to have people see it and stare at it like I do LOL

Also for the ALT text, a lot of the details are going to be explained below so if you’d like extra details please read!

So, my designs! I really hate Husk’s design; as in I hate drawing it. It’s too red and tiny for me, Husk is very orange and round to me, he’s like a really chubby cat that you flip over in the bed and smack their belly and kiss em. He also kinda reminds me of Tigerstar from Warriors but like if he was a more morally correct person. Kind of. I removed all of the red from Husk and replaced it with little motifs of orange and brown like in his ears, his eyebrows, wings, and the little patch on his snout. For his wings I tried to base them around a Brown Thrasher because they fit the colour I needed and they’re very defensive birds which is a trait I’d like to see in Husk more. Seeing him protecting others with his wings in Episode 8 was a very cute touch and I want more of that. Oh and the little orange bit on his snout was based on one of my old cats named Whiskey and I thought that was fitting cause yknow. Whiskey. 🥃. Also it’s cute!

Part of Husk’s orange colouration also falls under some inspiration I received from @bluehazardanonymous whom you may see on my blog again. But they sent me a very interesting colour chart and it made my brain go funny

Husk’s design has a lot of orange, yellow, and small hints of red like his undone bowtie and hat band/ace of hearts card. The orange for gluttony is mostly related to alcohol and such, meanwhile the yellow in his eyes, shirt patch, and on the button on his hat are to show greed from things like gambling and possible leftovers from being an overlord. I don’t think you can just go from being all powerful to some random bartender and NOT have some kind of thirst for power right???? That also bleeds into the red parts (haha cause blood red) to keep his design on the warm side and have a little bit of anger in there.

His clothes are also supposed to look a bit sloppy and kinda sad cause I mean. He is. But they are also all relatively formal items of clothing. By the way I’m never drawing this guy shirtless, sorry you need to beg and pay for that/j

Now for Angel. With Angel being pink-ish and how I usually draw the rest of Hell, I try to make Hell more gross looking and greenish/sickly, generally unpleasant, so that Angel is more eye catching and pops out more like a celebrity would. A lot of the cast in my head is more orange/maroon coloured, not a lot of pink or salmon colours. Of course pink is under lust on the colour wheel, but I personally don’t like chalking Angel up to just his job, nor do i really like using “true” pink. I always keep him in this range:

Also that white is not for him it’s for other things, I always make him a cream-ish colour. I like pink with red undertones always, especially for Angel. It shows his job very blatantly if you take a simple glance at him, but if you’re nuts like me and colour pick from these that I use, you’ll see a lot of them are closer to red, rather than the bright pink-ish-purple colour for lust. And also closer to his original more purple design!

I think it goes without saying that Angel has a lot of pent up anger and frustration that he hides with his persona and humour, and I think trying to show some of that in his colours is a lot more interesting than just haha pink gay spider. I dunno.

Also I thought these little cowlick flip thingies on the side were really cute

I was originally going to make the sign in the back purple since that’s usually the colour of most XXX signs in Hazbin, but the yellow makes everything else look a lot more dingy and gross while still being bright and I love that. Also the yellow is kind of a shallow jab of my own at the adult entertainment industry, a lot of this stuff is just people being exploited for money but I will go on a tangent about this if I don’t shift topic!! Anyway. A lot of the background isn’t super visible, but based on the colours I was kinda going for a more envy & wrath & greed section of the pride ring. Just seems like a good place to smoke. The rain doesn’t hold much symbolism to it but it is there to make the area seem more unpleasant. Yknow how it rains sometimes and the sewage in the street comes up? Like that.

Im really happy with a bunch of stuff in this art. 10 hours, 184+ layers, and 11751 strokes is probably the most I have ever done for.. anything????? Even if you don’t like the art I hope you appreciate the long rant LOL

Be sure to have a good day and drink something ‼️

[xxatinyminionxx]

ZB1 Reaction - You Say Their Name

Genre: Reaction, fluff, a pinch or two of crack

Background: You have been around him for some time but never really used his name to speak to him until now.

Warning: Yujin + Jiwoong’s are a little longer sorry I took a break while writing this 😭

A/N: Happy ZB1 debut day!!! At this point I haven’t seen the comeback yet. This reaction is a call back to Say My Name era on Boys Planet in a unique way! 🫶

Zhang Hao

He saw you as the more distant person among his acquaintances and didn’t bother you as much because of it. He respects your space and if you’re not comfortable enough to talk to him, he’d rather not push you.

One day you found a really funny meme and decide to show him. “Zhang Hao, look at this!”

“Hm?” He’ll ask with raised eyebrows, his heart moved by your attention to him after all this time.

You hold your phone out to him, meeting him by his side to watch his reaction. You get the cutest giggle out of him.

“Oh, then I have something to show you too.” He adds before searching for a funny post he recently liked that he thought catered to your humor.

You two bond over your sense of humor and exchange phone numbers before his schedule whisks him away.

Sung Hanbin

You took one of his classes when you were on the lookout for a new hobby. You had such a good time even though tutting isn’t easy.

Swamped with work again, it takes you awhile to sign up for another one of his classes. In the midst of your busy schedule, you think you see him in a store you frequently go to.

“Sung Hanbin?” You ask carefully hoping you’re right and didn’t make a fool out of yourself.

He turns his attention away from a display and smiles politely. “Yes?”

That’s when it clicks. He probably has no idea who you are. A lot of students attended the tutting class.

“Ah, I’m Y/N. I took your tutting class at your studio. I guess I wanted to come say hi and thank you for leading such an engaging class. Dancing is my new hobby.” You ramble on but manage to say everything you meant to say.

He smiles and nods through your immense gratitude for him, his eyebrows furrowing at particular parts that he thinks praise him too highly. Our humble king. “Ah, you’re lovely. I remember watching you try to perfect every hand movement in the mirror. I’m glad I could provide you with a new hobby! Will I be seeing you in class again?”

“Of course!”

Seok Matthew

Matthew was the saint that was always there when you were having a hard time. He held the elevator for you who was sprinting to make it inside, offered you a ride home when it was pouring outside, listened to your advice and opinions on things when others weren’t, and called you his friend when you least expected that title.

The difference this time was that you were going to take him by surprise for a change. That’s what his kind gestures have led up to. While you were used to saying “thank you”, you never really addressed him by his name. It was nameless appreciation.

But when he takes some of the items you were clearly having a hard time juggling to hold in your arms…

“Thank you, Matthew.” Is what you say.

As if his dream came true, his face brightens up and he gifts you with one of his shy smiles.

“Haha no problem Y/N.” He responds lightly trying to keep calm though he’s screaming on the inside.

Ricky

An extremely handsome guy enters your cafe during work hours and he takes you ABACK with his aura. You’re suddenly so glad someone traded shifts with you. Your somehow unphased co-worker takes this man’s order before handing it off to you to make.

You feel his gaze on you for a moment—until it drops to his phone to check something on it. With his head down, you can hardly take your eyes off him as you prepare his order. Unfortunately you may never see him again, which is why you call his name with the utmost enthusiasm.

“Ricky?!”

He peers up at you and greets you with a cute smile before grabbing his order. “Thank you~”

Your eyes remain locked on each other a couple seconds too long for just a meaningless encounter.

“Y/N.” You point to your name tag assuming he wanted to know your name.

He hums and nods. “Y/N, thank you. Have a good day.”

Little did you know he would become a regular just for you <3

Park Gunwook

You had been window shopping today and came across a busking event as you walked around the city. Music along with someone’s talented rapping voice echoes down the street.

You approach the crowd to get a closer look. That’s when you catch a glimpse of a guy you frequently sat next to in school one year. You talked sometimes, but you weren’t really on a first name basis.

You decide to cheer along with the crowd, remembering his name as it used to appear on his school uniform. “Park Gunwook!”

The sudden unique cheer throws him off and he looks over in your general direction. You can tell he’s flustered in the face when he spots you but he keeps going until the end of his verse.

Once his performances are over, he rushes to come see you before you decide to leave. “Y/N!!”

You smile at each other and applaud him again for his charismatic performance. “By the way, did I scream a little too loud?”

He shakes his head all giggly, flashing you his big smile. “I remembered your voice, plus I don’t go by Park Gunwook when I rap.”

“Then what do you go by?”

“TopGunz.”

You can tell he’s not joking.

Kim Taerae

You went to a gathering that people you knew were going to be at. You really were not enthusiastic about going, but you were curious and felt guilty since you had a track record of skipping events like this.

To your surprise, you have a good time up until the host initiates a game of truth or dare.

Sitting in a circle that looks more like an oval, you’re eventually the next person to ask.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

You scan the room but it’s no use. No one gives away what they’re thinking through their facial expressions. This was a 50/50 question.

“Um…dare.” You choose.

“I dare you to hold hands with someone for the rest of the night. Who will it be?” The host instigates with the help of an online list of dares.

“Kim Taerae.” You say in almost the same second that the question into the air to be ‘oooh’ed at.

The called-out young man perks up not expecting you to call his name one bit. “Me?” He can’t stop smiling as he gets up to be beside you.

When your fingers lace together, you notice his hand is warm, some callouses adding to the nature of his hand.

“You’re allowed to switch hands, but you can never let go of each other.”

You two would never let each other go. A lifelong dare meant to stand the test of time.

Kim Gyuvin

You were sitting on the bench at a bus stop when a familiar acquaintance sat on the other end of it. You end up locking eyes and you laugh in unison.

“Hello.”

“Hello~”

Minutes go by and without delay, the bus arrives. You two get up to board it and end up sitting in rows across from each other.

The ride is quiet besides the couples of people to the front of you and behind you having their own conversations.

The bus stops at some photoshoot place and the tall male gets up to leave the bus, accidentally leaving his jacket behind on the seat beside where he was.

“Gyuvin!”

He turns around in shock at the sound of your voice.

“You forgot your jacket.” You get up, scooping up his leather jacket and handing it over to him.

He gives you a sheepish grin and bows politely. “Thank you, Y/N. I’ll um see you again sometime?”

Kim Jiwoong

As a staff on the set of a drama, not only do you get to service the actors, but you also get to peek in at the production occasionally.

The scene being filmed today requires several touch-ups to the actors’ makeup, so you have a closer look at the acting on set.

You make sure to run up to Jiwoong, your assigned actor, to reapply makeup as requested by the director between takes.

He is nice and friendly to everyone apart of the project while his character unironically contrasts so much in front of the camera. His character is cold, confident, and assertive.

Still not completely out of the emotions of the character, he has a somewhat tense look on his face.

“Relax your face for me, Jiwoong. You’re doing great.” You sneak in a compliment being thoroughly amazed by his dedication to the drama.

He gifts you with a small smile before relaxing. “Thank you Y/N, I have to work hard because you work hard too.” He responds in a similar tone as his on-camera character, which makes you hot and flustered inside.

“Still in-character?”

“A little~” He whispers cooly and it takes everything in you not to bolt out of the set area.

“Wow, you’re crazy Mr. Jiwoong...” You tease as you finish up his makeup and take a step back.

He winks at you before taking his place and resuming filming again.

Han Yujin

There is an internet cafe that you frequent since it’s merely a 5-10 minute walk from your house. You’re embarrassed to admit it but almost everyday, you come over to the pc room to play an online game that’s had you hooked.

The game is popular enough that you can easily play with others local to you. While you may have thought that was cool at surface level, you never really gave it a second thought.

You grow fond of a few players and “friend” them on your gaming account. You all start coordinating times to play as a result.

One day, you sit down to meet your online friends in-game using a mic and headset as usual. When you are successful at a specific mission that had you and your friends stumped, you can hear loud cheering from next to you.

There is a small delay between what you hear in your headphones and what you’re hearing beside you. You could’ve sworn you heard your gamer tag being uttered from both, saying the same thing.

“Ohhh! Amazing! Wow, you totally carried us, (your gamer tag)!” Seems to echo in-game and in real life.

The outburst, or outbursts, take you off guard and you push your left headphone off your ear wondering if you were just hearing things.

“Guys guys, let’s go heal up! I took a lot of damage.” The guy beside you says grinning ear to ear, eyes glued to a screen running the same game as yours.

“Wait…Yujin?!?!” You say overwhelmed with shock and kind of excitement. You poke his shoulder repeatedly and of course you scare the life out of him—he’s screaming bloody murder over voice chat.

He soon recovers and it’s clear that you’re the only one who has put two and two together given his bewildered expression.

“I’m (your gamer tag)!” You clear up quickly before he thinks a crazy person suddenly spawned in real life.

His eyes go wide as he recognizes who you are from your computer screen. He then leans far back in his chair letting out a heavy sigh. “Wahhh! It’s really you?!”

You laugh along with the rest of your friends—who are absolutely dying of laughter listening in online—and nod at Yujin.

“Sorry for startling you, you startled me! Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a meal.” You say to Yujin while the others “ooooh” over voice chat.

—

©️ 2023 xxatinyminionxx. All Rights Reserved.

[infamous-if]

.2

I know, I know. It took 2 months to write the second drabble from the poll but...this is not even a drabble anymore. Instead, it's more of a collection of scenes mostly because if I do write how Orion found and began managing the band it would be an entire chapter. I will say that I condensed this due to that, but if I ever do write the whole thing it might look a *little* different. I had to cut corners and shorten scenes for the sake of length. Still, hope you like it! (This is 4, 363 words btw. what is wrong with me) I should probably find a more efficient way to share such long works but whatevs. As always, ignore any mistakes or typos or wordy sentences or sentences that probably make no sense upon reading it a second time. I don't edit drabbles and I always just publish the first drafts. haha.

“…Love me and hate me, I don’t mind as long as you take me—”

A low grumble rises in Orion’s throat when the song pauses, the car falling into an unfamiliar silence just as it slows in front of a red light. His large hands tighten their grip on the wheel, and his eyes glide to his co-worker, Marty, just as he’s pulling his hand away from the PAUSE button on the console. 

“Is there a reason you’re touching my stuff?” Orion asks, his voice carrying its usual calm that holds a level of ice that has even his superiors shuddering when they think he’s not looking. 

Marty licks his lips, his face twisting into its usual expression of guilt. Orion softens his face for his friend’s sake.

Orion Quinn knows the impact he has on people. The rumors that plague him have reached his ears on multiple occasions; he’s a shell of what he once was, never having gotten over the one who got away. He’s detached, the merciless worker that the boss goes to when he’s in need of someone who can do the firing.

 He’s the one people are afraid of crossing or talking casually to in fear of letting something slip. People fear him more than they fear the execs. 

It wasn’t always like this, sure. Once, Orion used to smile freely, used to talk openly and wear vulnerability like a favorite coat. But then the divorce happened and sides were taken. Suddenly, the armor he didn’t know he had was reinforced, dented and bruised from a battle he didn’t expect to fight, but reinforced nonetheless. 

Never date your co-workers. 

“The song is terrible, man.” Marty sighs, running a hand through his oily brown hair when he plops back in the seat. The same seat he pushed back at a 120-degree angle. Admittedly, it makes Orion’s nerves flare up. He says nothing;  he has enough self-awareness to know that complaining about his seat is a bit too much, even for him. “I was doing both our ears a favor.”

The light changes and Orion absently drums his fingers on the wheel as he drives on ahead, eyes gliding outside to soak in the densely populated street underneath the rising sun. “Yeah.” The word comes out in a resigned breath. “I was hoping it’d get better.” 

“We were on the bridge,” Marty throws back. “The only way it could get better is if it ended.” Orion’s lip twitches and of course, Marty can’t let it go. ”Oh! That was an almost-smile.” He leans forward to poke Orion’s rib. 

Orion lets out a laugh before his face quickly drops.

Marty grins, plopping his elbow on the ledge of the car door. “All I’m saying is you’ve been listening to demos nonstop this whole month. Not once have I seen you even mildly excited for any of them.”

Orion grits his teeth. “I haven’t had anything substantial to show the team in ages. Our last artist pulled out on signing with us last minute. Our established artists aren’t selling as well anymore. The industry is getting oversaturated—“

“—and we need to be ahead of the curve. Yadda, yadda.” Marty rolls his eyes. “Do you ever just relax? Damn. That stick up your ass is ten-feet lon—“

Marty chokes on his words when Orion’s eyes cut to his. “Say anything else and I’m kicking you out of my car.” 

Marty pouts but relents anyway, choosing to change the subject. “What about dating?”

Orion keeps his eyes on the road but quirks a brow. “What about it?”

“You know…” Marty starts, gesticulating vaguely as he searches for the right words. “Maybe putting yourself out there could help you relax. Or even inspire you—“ 

“No.”

“What? Okay, but—"

“Not interested.”

“You didn’t even know what I was going to sa—“

“Don’t have to.” 

Marty huffs and says nothing for a long moment. Neither of them rush to fill the silence; normal for Orion but unusual for his infinitely more talkative friend. It’s only when he pulls into Carolina Records’ parking lot that Marty speaks again and Orion realizes his silence was really just contemplation.

“I know the divorce was difficult,” he starts, delicate, “but—“

Orion’s jaw clenches.

“— that doesn’t mean you should give up.”

Orion sits there a moment, fingers clenching into fists. “It’s not giving up if I never tried in the first place.” He swings open the door and steps out, the car door slamming with a hint of finality.

. . .

Carolina Records boasts a twenty-floor skyscraper made up of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and sleek, dark marble floor. Orion has been here since he graduated college; going from a measly intern to an A&R representative responsible for finding two of the most promising artists in the company. 

That was a year ago. Since then, the well of new talent has dried up and Orion doesn’t know what to do.

Of course, he was offered higher positions, all of which he quickly denied. Orion always had a knack for numbers and trends, discovering what new genre is going to come to the forefront, seeing what kind of music the general public is listening to. Music: he understands it better than people. His understanding is almost clinical: while people listen to it for enjoyment, Orion seeks the patterns, the feelings that every beat and scale and vocal run they invoke. He takes it apart and puts it together like a surgeon does a patient. It just makes sense to him. 

He could do so much more, he knows that, but none of that interests him.

The music—that’s what he likes. 

Discovering new talent is what excites him. Which is why this odd dry spell has him walking with gritted teeth and tension between his shoulders-blades. He has to do something.

“Mr. Quinn.” 

Orion nods at a woman who passes by the hallway, ignoring the way Marty does a whole spin when he tracks her retreating frame down the hall.

Another one. This time a man from the marketing department. “Good Morning, Mr. Quinn.” 

“Morning.”

Marty scoffs when the man continues walking, not sparing him a glance. 

“Am I chopped liver or something?” Marty complains.

“Mr. Quinn, hey!”

“Hi.” Orion nods his head once and presses the elevator button. When his eyes land on a frowning Marty he says, “You’re just not sociable.”

“Huh?!” Marty then lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched sputter of a laugh. “And you are?”

Orion frowns. “Yes.”

Another laugh. “You’re smart, dude, you know it’s more because of that”— he gestures vaguely at him—“than your social skills.”

The elevator doors open with a cheerful bell and they step inside. “What?”

“You know.” Marty shrugs. “Your face. You look like you should be on a billboard advertising overpriced cologne with your shirt unbuttoned and your hand in your hair talking about your luxurious life or something.”

“That’s…specific.”

Marty shrugs. “I read a lot of GQ.” 

Orion wrinkles his nose when they spin to face the doors. “While it is true I would be considered objectively handsome by societal standards—“

“Oh, fuck off.”

“—I don’t think that’s the case.” This time Orion lets out a small smile. “Or maybe it is?” He quirks a brow at his co-worker. “Should I send a gift basket to my parents? A ‘thank-you-for-the-superior-DNA gift?’”

Marty shakes his head.  “You know, when you do try to be funny you still sound like an asshole.”

Orion hums, the joke tickling him enough for him to let out his first smile of the day. 

The elevator doors sing their arrival and they bid farewell once they part to go to their respective offices. Orion strides to his corner office where another one of his co-workers, Kass, is standing with a box in her hands.

“This week’s demos.” Orion is just putting his arms out when she plops the boxes on them. “You should really stop requesting unsolicited demos. It’s such an outdated way of doing things.”

Orion ignores her and unlocks his office door, turning the knob and pushing it open with his hip. His office is barren but spacious, with high windows overlooking the city. Marty told him once that people would kill to have his office, but really it’s just like any other space. What’s an office without a productive person to work in it? Orion hasn’t done anything of meaning in weeks.

Sighing, he drops the box on the table unceremoniously, picking up the first CD on the top of the pile. GROUNDED IN REALITY reads the title, and it’s so apt that he almost chucks the CD in the trash on that very fact alone. Still, he’s nothing if not fair. Another sigh escapes him and he gets to listening. 

. . .

Helpless.

That’s how he feels.

After hours of listening, the music has long since blurred together in a portrait of uninspired melodies and generic, radio-friendly lyrics. Nothing stood out, nothing made him want to dig into the song in search for more, nothing made him feel.

Is it me? Am I the problem?

Jaw clenched, Orion fishes out his phone, the usual flinch coming to him when he sees the background. He forgot to change it, and it’s always an (unwanted) surprise whenever he sees a picture of them together. 

One year ago. The beach. Happy.

Shaking his head, he sends a quick text to his mother telling her that he’ll have to raincheck on their dinner. He still has half a box of songs left. Looks like he’ll be staying late.

“Yo, Orion!” A knock. “Let’s go! I want to driiink.”

Or not.

Marty strides in without waiting for an invitation, a grin on his face. “Tab is on me.”

“Do you ever work?” Orion asks, eyes half-lidded in equal parts annoyance and indifference. 

His friend frowns. “This is work.”

“I don’t think getting drunk is in the job description.” Orion looks down, absently clicking on the button of his mouse in an effort to busy his hands. 

“Wah, wah. Don’t be a fucking party pooper.”

 “Too late.”

Marty shoots him a look. “A few artists are playing tonight. Call this recruitment.” He uses spirit fingers. “Maybe you’ll even loosen up for once.” When Orion looks at him, a brow raised, Marty drops his hands. “Yes, I do my job sometimes. Don’t look so surprised.”

“It’s not that,” Orion starts. He doesn’t immediately continue. Instead, they simply stare at each other. Marty wiggles his brows as Orion narrows his gaze. “When you say the tab is on you—“

Marty whips out a black card. “Company card, baby!”

Orion palms his face with a long groan as Marty begins to moonwalk across Orion’s office. “I was perfectly fine staying inside.” Even though he says this, a moment later he stands and grabs his trenchcoat from the back of the chair. “And you’re driving.”

“What!” Marty stomps his foot as he follows him out. “Nooooo.” 

. . .

The bar sits in a livelier part of the city, a part that Orion doesn’t often find himself in. It’s less about the scene and more about the memories associated with every damn corner of this place. Orion can pluck a memory from his mind like a petal from a rose garden: the diner they went to and fought for fifteen minutes over who would get to pay the bill, the park they spent their lunches at.

The shop where he bought the ring.

“This place is golden,” Marty says, breaking Orion out of the string of memories he wishes he could erase forever, “it’s like a real gritty, underground hole-in-the-wall vibe.”

“Sounds like fun,” comes out of Orion in a dour tone that has Marty rolling his eyes. 

They stride through the neon glow of the brick hall until it opens up to a dimly lit bar. The space is humble; the sparse crowd is compensated by the energy of the performers on the stage. 

“Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn…?”

“Is the band really covering Fountains of Wayne?” Orion says through gritted teeth.

Marty bites his lower lip, his obvious attempt to stifle laughter only making Orion’s faux horror flare even more. “Maybe.” Marty spins around, shimmying his shoulder. “You don’t agree that Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Going on?” Marty then realizes something and laughs. “You know, I dated a Stacy once. Weirdly enough, her mom wasn’t that bad looking—“

Orion sighs and quickly moves to the bar. “I need a drink.”

Whatever hope Orion had of finding new talent is gone in the face of the line-up. It quickly becomes obvious that the performers are composed of people who aren’t taking the ‘gig’ seriously or patrons that are half-drunk and stumbling on the small stage.

Worse that the place is pathetically empty; it’s only them two and three other stragglers eating stale fries and bobbing their heads to the music, more out of obligatory politeness than anything else. Orion is suddenly regretting taking Marty up on his offer. 

Orion drinks his lager through periodic gulps, his desire to forget this night growing with every person that performs. The memories of this area coupled with his lack of work lately make him dizzy. He wants to escape. Quit. Scream. All of it.

“Get me another,” Orion says, much to Marty’s delight.

More and more people perform until Orion has lost any focus on the stage. Instead, he entertains himself by watching the game on the TV, having long given up on finding any new promising talent in a place like this. 

“Next up we have”—the bartender stops, her eyes narrowing as she tries to read something off an index card—“er, [band]. Yeah. Give them a round of applause.”

With how few people are in attendance, the applause is less applause and more awkward clapping that quickly dies after two. 

The people on stage are younger. Immediately, Orion notices that they’re equipped with actual instruments instead of relying on the karaoke machine in the corner. A decisive point in their favor, he decides.

“You said this was a gig…” He hears one of them say to what appears to be the lead singer. The boy wears a red hat, as well as an assortment of chains on his neck. Three other band members set up their instruments, trying not to look too disappointed by the turnout. Still, even with the lager creating a slight fog in his head, Orion knows that look. The moment when hope dies, burning like a napkin to a flame.

“No,” the lead singer says pointedly as they adjust their mic, “I said this was a favor.” In that moment, the singer nods their head at the bartender, who shoots them an appreciative thumbs-up. “A paid favor.”

The boy shakes his head but snorts. “I guess.” 

Once they’re set up, the singer looks ahead, gazing at the bar. Their eyes briefly settle on Orion as they gaze at the few faces in the room. “Hey!” they say, chirpy. “We’re [band]. Thanks for coming out!”

A chorus of muttering replies.

Marty taps on the bar. “Wanna head out?”

Orion, unable to look away, shakes his head. “No. I want to see this.”

The next few minutes feel like a dream. Orion is in a daze as the song plays, the beats piercing through him. The voice sends goosebumps up his arms, the instruments weave together in a perfect harmony that has Orion’s heart racing. When the song ends, it’s too soon. He wants it to keep going. He doesn’t want it to end. 

He wants more.

“Thanks!” The singer says to a smattering of slightly enthusiastic applause. This is the most energy everyone has had all night. They turn, grab their things, and disappear through the curtain. Orion bursts up….

…spilling his drink on the table.

“Oh!” the bartender squeaks as Marty hisses.

“Aw, fuck.” Orion curses, and then flinches. “Sorry. Uh….sorry.” He doesn’t know what his apology is for. Dropping the drink, cussing, or speeding away before he could help clean it up in order to catch the band backstage?

“Hey!” Marty calls. “Where are you going?”

Orion ignores him. He has a one-track mind right now, one focused on finding the band that just made him feel like he hit the jackpot. This. This is what he’s been looking for. 

The door swings open, and the band stop mid-conversation to look at Orion, who busted through the door without so much as a plan or script in place. Instead, he simply stands there. 

“Uh.” One girl, flaunting bright blue hair, says. “Yeah?”

Orion reveals his card, feeling a bit like a robot. He moves on automatic, working through the many thoughts in his head to utter the rest of his words. “Do you have a manager?”

. . . 

“You want to manage us?”

The din of the coffee shop sings with the sound of plates and aimless chatter. It’s been two days since he heard them perform back at the bar, and Orion has been running through his pitch the way one does before an interview. He’s never been this…nervous? Uncertain? In his life. 

“Yes,” is Orion’s only response. He sits on one side of the table while the band sits on the other; an invisible wall between them. He can see it, their apprehension. He is not one of them. 

Not yet, at least. 

“Wait.” The boy Orion learned is named Rowan leans forward, fingers on the table. “How do we know this isn’t a scam?”

“I’m not asking for money. All I ask is for you to show up to play for my boss. That’s it.” Auditions are a lost art. Nowadays artists are recruited through viral internet songs and connections. Two things that always exhausted Orion. It hasn’t been just about the music in a long time. 

Their eyes widen. They all exchange looks, equal parts excited and wary. 

“Why?” [MC], who he learned is the sole singer of the band, asks.

Because you made me feel something. Because listening to you is the first time I felt human in a long time.

He imagines himself waving off those words like mist. “Because you’re the first band that has caught my attention. And it’s not easy to catch my attention.”

The band member named Iris snorts. 

“I’m not trying to be arrogant,” he says blandly, leaning back in his chair to fold his arms over his chest. “It’s the truth.”

“Where do you work?” Another member, Devyn, asks. 

“Carolina Records.”

Multiple pairs of eyes widen.

“Holy shit.” Jazzy laughs. “The Carolina Records?”

Orion nods, used to this kind of reaction. Starry-eyed artists are pretty much the same when it comes to Carolina. “Yes.” He leans forward, his heart racing. “Just one audition. That’s all I ask.” 

He watches as they all exchange looks; a silent language only they share. After an agonizing moment, [MC] turns to him and nods. “When?”

. . . . 

Orion has been pacing for the last half hour.

He stands outside Carolina’s humble theater space, chewing on his nails as he waits for his boss, Jacob Hill, and a smattering of other executives and shareholders that will be the final word in whether Orion can work with [band]. He hasn’t asked for something this big in so long that Jacob Hill immediately said yes, more out of excitement and surprise than anything else. Orion did produce two of their most profitable artists in the company. 

The elevator doors open and Orion stops in place, head whipping up to see them walking through the hall in a wave of black suits and greased hair. Orion brushes down his shirt, trying to dampen his nerves. Jesus. Nerves? Get a grip, Orion. 

He doesn’t know how to stand as he waits for them to approach. Hands in pockets? Arms crossed? Orion is so indecisive he just resorts to standing straight, arms at his sides. 

“Mr. Hill.” Orion shakes his hand, clearing his throat. He makes his polite greetings to the rest of the team and says, “Thank you for making time for me.”

“Always, Orion.” Jacob slaps a large hand on his back. “You’re one of my best. You should ask me for favors more.”

Orion lets out a small, slightly nervous laugh. “Ah, you know. I like to—“

“—do things on your own,” Jacob finishes, a soft smile on his face. “I get it.”

He slowly looks up, meeting Jacob’s eyes. In them he can see the familiar pity he’s gotten since the divorce. 

It’s Orion’s fault, really. If he didn’t isolate himself and turn into what he is now, people wouldn’t look at him and assume he’s broken inside.

Would they be wrong in their assumption, though? Am I broken inside?

“Shall we?” another executive says, and Orion bobs his head in a nod, pushing away the image of Jacob’s face.

Inside is a small theater, the stage just big enough for one artist. The seats are plush leather, the lights dim but blue. Jacob always likes the spectacle, and he catered this space to feel like a real performance for possible signees. Orion decides against sitting, too nervous to do anything but stand in the back, giving them the signal he taught them in his pep talk before they came.

[MC] nods. “Um. Hi. We’re [band]. I’m [MC] and this is Iris, Rowan, Devyn, and Jazzy. And um…this is [song].”

Orion flinches at the lackluster introduction. Doesn’t matter, he thinks, unfamiliarly optimistic, the music will do the talking.

And it does.

But not in the way he thought.

All throughout the song, Orion peeks at Jacob and his team. He wants to celebrate when he sees them bobbing their heads, wants to curse when they get on their phones. Orion has never worried this much in his whole career. He’s never wanted something so bad. 

He’s never allowed himself to want. Not after the divorce. 

He didn’t think he was deserving of getting what he wanted. 

The song ends, and Orion lets out a breath. There’s muffled chatter between the men, and on stage the band crowd together, hopping in place as they let out their remaining nerves. 

Jacob stands, the rest following. Orion speeds ahead, wanting to see the thoughts on his face. Instead, Jacob simply regards him with thin lips.

“They were…good,” Jacob whispers, putting a hand on Orion’s shoulder and guiding him out of the room and to the empty hall, “but I think we’re going to go in another direction.”

Orion’s positivity leaks out of him like an open faucet. “What.”

Jacob inhales through his nose. “Look, the singer is talented. They all are. I understand why you like them but…” He shakes his head. “I don’t think the guys see it. And plus,” he shrugs, “they don’t have what we’re looking for.”

Orion’s brows furrow. His stomach drops in itself and his mouth dries. “They have another song. They could play it—“

“Orion.” Jacob gives him that pitying expression again. Fucking hell. He wants to smack that expression off his face. “I know you’ve been…off, since the divorce. You haven’t been on top of your game, and I’ve been giving you your space. It’s not easy, especially since you worked together—“

“I’m fine,” he says tightly.

“—but you can’t…fixate on something to get over it. You need to do it the healthy way. The old Orion would’ve brought me someone with pizzazz. With that unique Orion touch, you know?” Jacob pulls him close. Orion is reduced to a scolded child, unable to do anything but listen. “This isn’t the Orion I know. You usually bring me diamonds.” 

“I—“ Orion swallows. “I’m trying.” And it’s the most honest thing he’s said in ages. He’s trying. And it’s not working. He’s been trying the day he signed that fucking divorce paper and signed the only life he’s known away. 

“I know you are,” Jacob says, squeezing his shoulder. “Sometimes we miss, and that’s alright.”

The rest of the group filter out and both Jacob and Orion step back, trying to hide any sign of their tense conversation. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Orion nods slowly, the lump in his throat growing as he feels multiple eyes on him. His jaw is clenched, his eyes are downturned. He can hardly look at his boss.

He stands there, frozen, forced to listen to their careless chatter as they walk down the hall. The moment they stepped out of those doors, they forgot about the band. The same band that made him feel something, the first time since his divorce. The same band he can’t get out of his head. The same band that proved he is not broken. He can still feel.

And they don’t even fucking care.

“I quit,” Orion says, the words coming out of him before he could even think. Jacob and Co turn around, twin expressions of shock on their faces. Orion looks up, straightening, trying to look even an inch of the Old Him.

“What?” Jacob blurts. 

“I quit.” Orion swallows. “I’ll formally hand in my resignation tomorrow.” He bows, trying to muster up the little respect and professionalism he has in him. “I’m sorry.”

“Orion—“

He spins around, walking back inside. 

The band is still on stage, this time all packed up and ready to go. When the door closes, they all look up, their hopeful and wide eyes on Orion as he walks down to the stage.

He stops in front of it. He puts two palms on the stage, looking at the members of the band he will take to the top. He promised it to himself…two minutes ago.

“I’m going to ask again,” Orion says through his teeth, his heart racing with the adrenaline of his quitting. What the fuck is he doing? And why does it feel so good? “Do you still need a manager?”

When he looks up, the band stares at him in silence.  

He witnesses [MC] look behind him at the door, where Jacob and his team left. As if realizing something, they look back down. “Yeah. You okay with another artist in your roster?”

“Yes.” Orion nods. He’s okay with it. 

Because all he needs is one. 

[eurydicees]

Also, I just saw you’re 23, I am too! It’s rough out here. Another idea: any characters, what’s it like being 23? Where are they at this point? I feel like hq shows that as being sooo grown up but like I��m just a big teenager right?? Idk just rambling

being 23 is so rough sometimes lmfao. i've got friends from high school getting married and friends from college having early life crises. i'm working full time and living alone but tbh mostly feel like i'm playing at house rn more than i am living on my own. whatever. it's fine. early 20s is just a silly time of life. anyways i don't have a fic for u but i Do have a headcanon list.

in no particular order, haikyuu characters as stupid things i've done in my early twenties:

atsumu: having a brother who is a chef does not prevent him from forgetting to take the cheese packet out of the mac and cheese box and dumping that into boiling water with the pasta.

udai: does not remember the last time he ate a vegetable.

oikawa: friends all went to a party without him and his coping method was getting so so so wasted on white rum and falling asleep on the living room carpet immediately after giving another friend a tarot card reading saying their breakup is imminent (to be fair, it was. but it was still kinda rude).

iwaizumi: after class, was led to a private stairwell by a friend, jokes "haha are you taking me to a hidden location to kill me." and then received a love confession. proceeded to say "uh. i'll think about it." then did finger guns. and said "im just gonna. go" and then fucking. ran. like not exaggerating, ran.

kageyama: went on a date. did Not At All Know it was a date, despite the very very obvious flirting. yes this was the same person as in the previous bullet point. don't look at me like that.

akaashi: took a 100 level class senior year and did not pay attention to a single lecture. instead wrote thousands of words of fanfiction in the classroom every day.

atsumu (again): another cooking one. i just think he'd be a terrible cook. sorry. anyways. "it's been 20 min, why isn't this scallion pancake im pan frying cooking yet?" (<- did not turn on the stove burner.)

yachi: hm the light in this room doesn't work. guess i'll just learn to see in the dark instead of inconveniencing anyone by asking to fix it.

akaashi (again): completely fell in love at first sight, but fast forward five months and it actually somehow worked out? however the five months were filled with the most insufferable pining possible, which could have been resolved so so so easily. also started talking about marriage, like, six months in.

bokuto: got sad. went out into a raging snowstorm in socks and no jacket. laid down in the snow for a long time. somehow, miraculously, didn't get a cold afterwards?

akaashi and/or yachi: changed majors and career paths because a pretty upperclassman asked them to. (i am very happy in my chosen path but jesus christ THAT was why i did it?)

hinata: flew from coast to coast of the country, then drove halfway back to the midwest in the span of three days. started a new job on the fourth day. didn't sign a lease on an apartment until the fifth day.

semi: skipped a day of work to drive four hours there and four hours back for a fall out boy concert. totally worth it but driving at 4am after a concert wasn’t the smartest thing ever to be done.

kuroo: started reading homestuck in the year of our lord 2024. this is an attempt to remain in contact with long distance friendships (by doing a bookclub) but jesus fucking christ dude.

ok this is getting too long and i needed to be ready for work, like 15 min ago lol. maybe i'll write more of these later, but i hope you enjoy these and my silly disasters are a little comforting :)

[vettelsdarling]

Ive seen alot of quote requests and I rly want a Leclerc x fem reader smut where they start out as enemies (example is like Ferrari and Mercedes or Ferrari and Redbull) pls and include these two quotes

“Youre so full of shit Ferrari boy”

“but you keep coming back”

Id be rly grateful if u could write this haha

Touch my rear wing, I dare you

➪I like the idea! Hope you enjoy what I came up with :)

➪(I’m assuming you mean Charles and not Arthur btw)

➪Also, this both follows and doesn't really follow a specific timeline. I’m just using my creative freedom for this. Some people are cut out of the story because of the reader insert!

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Driver!Reader

Warnings: (18+ content) smut, oral (both receiving), swearing

Word count: 5.6k+

Backstory

You had always loved racing. Your father was a retired Formula 1 driver and had always taught you and your brother the basics of it. You used to go watch him speed around for Ferrari, which shaped your dream to become just like him. Your brother and yourself were both determined to make it as great drivers. Your mother was a stay-at-home mom with a lot of time on her hands. Therefore, convincing her to take you and your brother karting was no big feat. Especially seeing as your father was a driver himself.

You rose through the ranks faster than your brother, despite having started later than him. Your mother was hesitant to let you race at first, but eventually allowed it. You were called a star and a prodigy. Seeing as you were the only girl there, it made sense. Especially because you hit every apex just right and your overtakes were near-perfect every time.

After karting, you moved further up the ranks, eventually being crowned regional champion in Formula 3 (regional) and moving on to Formula 3.

It was there you met him; Charles Leclerc. He was the only one who seemed to be faster than you. Not only that but the idea of it had gotten to his head. You never actually spoke to him, but you'd see a smirk creep up on his face once in a while after beating you. You wanted nothing more than to wipe it off with the sole of your shoe. You weren't superstitious, but there was sure to be karma coming his way sooner or later.

Luckily that karma came in the form of one George Russel and one Alex Albon. The two of them were just as competitive as you and Charles, eventually making the four of you gain a lot of attraction in the media. You were great friends with George. He always showed a tremendous amount of sportsmanship towards you. One time, he even helped you by letting you pass him, having you win the race. All the whilst Charles was left in the dust. You relished in it.

When Formula 2 came around, you were stuck, yet again, with Charles. That was also when you had your first real interaction. He went up to you before the last race and struck up a rather puzzling conversation. Puzzling in the sense that you had no idea why he was talking to you, or why he even wanted to.

“Hey, you're not a bad driver, but I would suggest you try to maybe stop sulking. People notice.” Infuriating. Absolutely infuriating.

“Maybe you should check up on that girlfriend of yours. I don't think she's into assholes. Maybe stop being one.” Even though you were in your own garage, you walked away. You couldn't stand being in his presence for a moment longer.

You were unlucky because Charles beat you and moved on to Formula 1 before you. You and he had been tied for the championship, but somehow he found his way around to beat you. It was then you realized you had to do something— anything to get into Formula 1.

Your luck seemed to only build after Charles left Formula 2, and you easily won the following championship, signing a deal with Alfa Romeo, which, to your surprise, was the worst thing to ever happen to you.

You'd somehow managed to place yourself in the same team as Charles, making him the only thing you couldn't destroy on the grid. You had to be a fair teammate to even be considered by your dream team, Red Bull. You'd seen Sebastian Vettel in his glory days, and you wanted the same for yourself. However, being in Formula 1 proved to be much harder than 2. You didn't really know what you had expected, because so many stars were competing for the championship.

It wasn't all that bad, though, because he never really said much and the two of you were somehow able to make it work. It was mainly due to the pressure of having to look good. You knew about the media and their swirling rumours. Many speculated that you were Charles’ side piece. It didn't matter to you, as long as you knew just how far from the truth that was.

After the 2018 season, you somehow managed to sign yourself with Red Bull for 2019, driving alongside Max Verstappen. He went on to become your best friend on the grid, as nobody really liked Red Bull and you had to stick together. Sebastian Vettel became a “father figure”, following the death of your father earlier in 2018. It hit you harder than any barrier had ever hit you, but you were able to get through it with the help of Vettel.

It was in 2019, that you finally started rising to the top and watching Charles start to lag behind. The feeling of watching him struggle was like a euphoric punch. Nothing made you happier. You and Max were a powerhouse of a team. He helped you, you helped him. He was more than happy with it, and so were you.

Everything led up to the 2022 season, where you started casually hooking up with none other than Charles Leclerc. It started at a party that Lando threw after the 2021 season had ended.

-Flashback-

You were dancing out on the floor. Your dress barely covered your assets and you'd had more shots than you could count on your fingers. Completely wasted. That's what you were. What made matters worse was that you continued to do increasingly risky things like doing a handstand, which almost made your dress pull down with gravity. Everyone seemed to cheer you on, as they were just as drunk as you, if not more. Well, all but one. Charles lurked in the corner of the room. He didn't drink. You weren't sure why, nor did you care. But his eyes had been on you all night. The increasingly provocative behaviours you exhibited fueled something carnal within himself. Something he wasn't so sure he could control. He hated you, but at the same time… he hated the thought of someone getting their hands on you. He couldn't understand his line of reasoning. He didn't even think he had one.

The line was crossed when you came down to do a split on the floor, which ripped your dress; putting your panties on full display. Nobody but Charles paid attention to the severity of the move, so he pushed through the crowd and picked you up like you were nothing. He wasn't in control anymore. His brain had just switched to auto-pilot. Nobody realized he took you. Nobody realized the two of you were gone.

The next morning, you found yourself in a fluffy white bed, which horrified you. Your sheets were deep green and silk. Nothing like the bed you were lying in. On top of that, your clothes were gone and you were lying in your underwear. Groggy, you pulled yourself up and realized you were alone. Next to you was a bedtable with a glass of orange juice with a pill next to it. There was a card too and it was addressed to you.

“I bet you had a nice time last night. I had to leave early for a meeting, but I left you some things for your hangover. Call me if you need anything and leave whenever you want to.

– Charles”

You were beyond shocked. You were at a loss for words. Had you really slept with Charles? Charles Leclerc? The one person you hated on the grid? You could barely believe the two of you had a friendly interaction, let alone slept together. You quickly chugged the juice with the pill and got out of bed. You couldn't find your dress anywhere, so you decided to go find Charles’ closet. Everything was too big for you, but after some digging, you found a shirt and a pair of pants that you were able to adjust to your own size. You didn't care about your messy hair. You just had to get out of that house. When trying to remember what had happened the night before, you only added to the already existing headache. The conclusion then was; you slept with Charles after getting drunk and you would never ever tell a soul or do it again.

You debated whether to ask Max to come and get you, or call an Uber. You knew Max would pick you up and not ask questions… well if it didn’t involve Charles. You ended up paying for an Uber to not let the secret spill. Max was a trusted friend but you didn’t even want him to know. Vettel would likely just give you any advice a dad usually would, which was why you decided not to bother him either. Besides, everyone would probably be too hungover to care about anyone and anything but their bowel movements.

“Miss, where to?” Asked the driver. You told him the address and he started driving. Unlike other Ubers you’d taken before, this guy was chatty. He told you about his dog, a golden retriever that he named Lila. He talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had to be careful not to accidentally tune his talking out like white noise.

After a while, you were finally dropped off and you were left alone to soak in the painful false memory of sleeping with Charles.

- End of flashback-

*Still not present. First race of the 2022 season

You walked around your car, gliding your hand around it, feeling the smooth metal against your gloves. That’s when your peace was disturbed by a voice you hated all too much.

“Are you ready for 22?” You turned your head to see Charles with a smug look on his face. You hadn’t seen him or heard from him since the day you walked out of his apartment. It was simply too embarrassing for you.

“Don’t talk to me. Go bother someone else,” you huffed. Max was talking to Horner in the back of the garage. You had nobody to save you from having to talk to Charles.

“After the night we had? I don’t think so,” he said whilst walking closer and almost touching your rear wing.

“Touch my rear wing, I dare you.” The two of you shared a brief look after you said that. Charles then took the liberty of walking closer to you.

“You know what? I have a bet. If I win this race, you come home with me. I just want to talk, okay? If you win… you can ignore me and treat me like trash. Deal?” You contemplated for a while but realized it was in his favour.

“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t want to go with you and I certainly don’t want the Bahrain curse looming over my head. What kind of deal is this?” You spat. He only seemed to be amused by that.

“Slipped my mind. Okay, then let’s do it like this; whoever places the highest— wins.” You immediately shook his hand harshly and started prepping for the race.

You ended up in P2 with Charles taking the risk of the Bahrain curse. You couldn’t wrap your head around why he would risk the championship just to sit and talk with you. It didn’t make any sense. You didn’t want to talk about that night. Why would he want to? It wasn’t like the outcome ended in a pregnancy. There was nothing to talk about.

After the race, an interviewer came up to you after having talked to Charles.

“—And hello, P2! You were amazing out there! Even avoiding pole position! How do you feel?” You felt like you’d lost everything. It was miserable. You hated losing in races, but you certainly also hated losing bets.

“I mean, I feel great! I was able to stay on top; and to me, it still feels like a 1-2 for Red Bull.” You lied straight through your teeth. It was a strike of sheer luck that you were born with such an amazing PR ability.

“Charles said that you might be upset for placing behind him, care to comment?” You looked at the interviewer with a puzzled look on your face.

“Uhhh, I’m not sure what that’s about. Maybe he doesn’t know about the Bahrain curse?” You chuckled and quickly tried to make your way away from her. She waved and you waved back with a short smile.

Upon arriving at the Red Bull motorhome, you saw Max sitting on a couch with Kelly. He looked satisfied with the win for Red Bull.

“Hey, congrats on P2. Max was telling me about it,” said Kelly. You never really liked Kelly all that much, but she was nice to Max so you didn’t bother her. Penelope, her daughter, was cute and you’d sometimes offer to babysit her for them.

“Yeah, it was a nice race.” You grabbed a juice box from the fridge and let yourself slump down in a chair.

“Why do you look so defeated? This is basically a 1-2 for us.” Max and Kelly made sure to look concerned. You didn’t want to talk about it, nor did you want to think about it. You had to meet up with Charles anyway, so you decided to give a short and vague response, before leaving,

“I guess I’m just tired. I have to go now, actually.”

You waited by Charles’ car, knowing that the paparazzi were taking pictures of you doing so. You tried your best to remain anonymous though, wearing a thick hoodie with no print along with a cap, sunglasses, and a mask. Your hair was tucked inside the hood of the hoodie. Nobody could really tell who you were, but they’d certainly speculate.

“You look like a serial killer; waiting by my car with that outfit,” said a voice coming up behind you. You saw the many fans screaming and the paparazzi wanting statements. Charles ignored them and opened the door for you. Still not wanting to actually converse with him, you decided to sit in the backseat instead. The Ferrari driver rolled his eyes, sighed, shut the shotgun seat door and got in himself. You were not going to sit next to him. You knew that only bad things would come of it.

“So, I’m your taxi driver now? Why didn’t you just get in when I opened the door for you?” He sounded a bit pissy and it was in all honesty pretty entertaining to sit and ignore.

“Hmm. Okay. So you’re only talking when it’s absolutely necessary?” You ignored him yet again. It was a mystery how the drunk version of you got to talking with him— even going as far as sleeping with him. Ever since that night, you’d had dreams about it. You believed they were fragments of memories coming back to you. It was haunting to relive. All those dreams about him; about Charles, they were just like any adult movie you’d seen before. It was embarrassingly detailed.

Luckily, the awkward car ride was short. The two of you arrived at his hotel and quickly got inside. The fact that the two of you were going to be alone in his suite was daunting to you.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll get you something to drink.” You took off your sunglasses, cap, and mask, and sat by the table in the room. Charles served your drinks before sitting across from you. It was like a fever dream; being in a hotel suite with your one true rival.

“I know you might not want to talk about what happened four months ago… but I think we should,” Charles began. You dreaded the atmosphere. It felt heavy. Too heavy.

“Look, I have dreams about what happened and I just— I don’t really know what to say,” you shot in before he could say anything else.

“You remember? I didn’t think you would. You were so drunk, you know?”

“I remember alright. I’ve dreamt about that night so many times now, I think I’m going to go crazy soon.” You buried your face in your hands whilst sighing.

“Yeah… I think I would be embarrassed too…” you looked up in confusion.

“Embarrassed…? I know we’re not exactly mates, but embarrassing?” At the very least, he could’ve tried to be more sympathetic. You’d been extremely drunk that night.

“Yeah, you were so loud. I got complaints from my neighbours.” Mortifying. Absolutely mortifying. He wasn’t talking about your body. He was talking about your moaning. You weren’t sure how you’d recover from that one.

“Shit… but you were technically also a part of it. You’re making it sound like it’s all me.” You scowled at him.

“How was I a part of that?”

“Well, for starters, you’re the one who fucked me. I told you. I keep dreaming that… so much of it… I want to throw up.” It was probably a bad idea to have admitted that, but you didn’t want to lose the dispute.

“Fucked? You think we fucked?” He sounded genuinely surprised. His face also matched the tone of his voice, with his eyes wide open.

“Yeah, against the headboard… as I remember it, we went at it hard. On top of that, I was drunk… so can you blame me for being loud?” His shocked face suddenly melted into a smirk and his signature smug face after rubbing a victory in yours.

“So you’re telling me… you’ve dreamt about me taking you against the headboard in my apartment? Going at it hard?” Was he toying with you? You couldn’t tell.

“You know… that’s not what happened. You were so drunk I had to take you to my apartment. You were yelling and crying the entire time for some reason. I had to change you out of your dress because you threw up on it and you also threw up on the floor. You passed out minutes after you did so…” when you came to that realization, you were beyond embarrassed. The most embarrassing thing was the dreams that you admitted to having. Dreams that weren’t actual memories, but just your imagination. Did you want to fuck him? Was that it? You couldn’t bring yourself to think about it,

“If I’m correct… you were having wet dreams about… me?” You didn’t answer him. You simply got up from your seat and made your way to the front door. You had to leave. However, before you could open it, Charles pinned you to it, trapping you between his arms.

“What are you doing, Leclerc?” You looked at him with doe eyes. His breathing was ragged and you could tell he had some bad intentions.

“I have a new deal to make. For the rest of the calendar, let’s have it this way: whoever places highest wins.” He took a moment to breathe and stare into your eyes somewhat intensely.

“What about the winner?” You asked. The air felt hot and heavy. A knee was pushed between your legs.

“The winner…” he hesitated,

“The winner decides whether to fuck or not.” You gulped at his words and saw the look in his eyes.

“Deal.” The rest was history.

*Present time

It was the last race of the season and you were more than happy to finally take a well-deserved break. You had placed podium plenty of times and won against Leclerc more times than you could remember. The arrangement the two of you had set up was flawed, however. You both knew it was a bad excuse to hook up with each other, as neither of you ever chose to not fuck.

“Fuck, we need to bring this one home. If you win this, you’re the champion! First ever female champion and it’s for our team! Go out there and drive like your life depends on it, yeah?” Horner’s pep talks always got you into your racing mindset. He was the only person besides Max who was really able to lift your spirits like that.

“I’ll be there to fend off anyone threatening your pole,” said Max, who was getting ready to step in. You smiled and went in for a tight hug,

“Thanks, Max. Let’s bring it home for Red Bull!” The two of you got into your positions with your cars. The lineup was in your favour, as you’d placed pole in the qualifying session. Max was in P4, but you knew he’d have no problem working his way right behind you.

As soon as the race started, you sped off. It was smooth, and you worked most apexes just right. The radio sounded and told you that Max was right behind you, which put your mind at ease. You had nothing to be worried about as long as Max was on defense.

“So uh, Max just took out Sainz along with himself. It’s all up to you now. Leclerc is a little under half a second behind you. Your heart sank. Not just because of Max’s sacrifice, but also because Leclerc was behind you. He had the power to snatch the championship from you and graciously hand it over to another driver. You couldn’t have that happen. You simply couldn’t. You didn’t want to let Horner down, and you couldn’t bear to live with letting Max down after his takedown.

“Fuck, okay. I’ll fend him off as much as possible. We’re in the homestretch anyway, right?”

“Yes, just 5 more laps to go.” You gave it your all. You saw red. Everything was just about winning and keeping the Ferrari car behind you.

In the end, you won, but you actually couldn’t understand how. Even though you gave it your all, you did have tiny lapses of moments where Leclerc could’ve snuck in and gone for the win… but for some reason, he didn’t.

You were met with tight hugs and huge roars from fans. Max immediately lifted you up into the air and brought Christian over to do a group hug. Your interview was breezy and you felt like you’d won at life. All throughout listening to your national anthem and spraying champagne on your fellow drivers, you couldn’t help but think about Charles and why in the world he let you win.

You met up with Charles after everything. You decided to go straight to the Ferrari motorhome. There he was. In all his glory. He was scrolling through his phone, presumably checking his emails and his socials.

“Hey, uh, Charles… could we talk for a minute?” You asked. The look he gave you when he noticed was unreadable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. He followed you outside and to a more secluded area where you were sure nobody would be able to hear you.

“You let me win,” you began.

“I didn’t. All I did was—“

“Shut up, okay? I know you did. I just… I want to know why,” you sighed and put a hand on your hip.

“I think you deserved the win. That’s all,” he smiled and crossed his arms.

“You’re so full of shit, Ferrari boy,” you spat and looked away. There wasn’t much around you, but a brick wall and a fence. Nobody would be able to spot you with Charles. The last thing you wanted was for the media to think the two of you were fraternizing.

“—But you keep coming back,” he replied. You slowly turned your head, only to be shoved into the wall behind you. The brunette had both of your arms locked by his hands. There was no escape for you. You had to confront whatever the two of you had been running around doing for the past season.

“Tell me, why is it such a bad thing for us to just fuck and actually feel things for each other?” He whispered. You wanted to deny it. You wanted to deny everything. He was foul, he was rude, he was reckless, but he was yours… he’d always been yours. Ever since he broke up with Giatti, the two of you had an eerie air around each other. One that couldn’t be explained with your past. One that made your heart beat faster.

“You remember the dreams you had about Lando’s party? That was all you. You must’ve felt something for me to have dreamt something like that,” he continued. Oh gosh, the dreams. He just had to bring up the dreams. You knew, however, that he wasn’t entirely wrong. Your stomach would churn with butterflies whenever you thought back to your dreams.

“Screw just fucking. Why shouldn’t we date? Tell me why we can’t be with each other.” He looked directly into your eyes, desperately searching for an answer.

“I… I just can’t— I mean I… I hate you,” you said,

“I fucking hate you, Charles!” He started backing off, and you started cornering him against the fence behind him.

“I hate how you make me feel all of these things I’m not supposed to feel!” You calmed down, and once again, were shoved against the wall.

“Tell me all about how I make you feel. My place or yours?”

“Yours… my room is further than yours,” you said whilst avoiding eye contact.

Charles immediately took you to his hotel suite. It was right next to Hamilton’s. As soon as the door opened— you threw your arms around his neck and he told you to jump into his arms. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and the two of you made out feverishly. There was no time to bring it to the bedroom. The two of you were used to doing it in all sorts of places. The Ferrari driver placed you on a counter and you started stripping each other. He was impressed by your effort to wear matching lace underwear. Whenever you did so, you always claimed it was for yourself, but he liked to beg to differ.

“Fuck, tell me.” Charles was buried in your neck, you couldn’t make yourself answer.

“Tell me how I make you feel,” he gasped before going in again.

“Good… you make me feel so good,” you sighed. His lips latched onto every part of your neck that made you feel like royalty.

“You know what I mean, baby. Tell me how I make you feel.” his demanding voice was enough to make you pant harder.

“You make my… My heart beat faster,” you moaned.

“—And?”

“I feel fuzzy around you.” He loved hearing your declarations of love, so much that he couldn't take the slow pace anymore.

In a flash, he grabbed you by the hips and helped you to the floor on your knees.

“God, you're divine. Can you be a good girl and suck?” you stared at him as you removed his boxers, letting his dick spring free. It twitched in appreciation for your touch. You traced your fingers against a particularly prominent vein and heard his sounds of pleasure. He groaned and bucked his hips, needing your mouth. You met his wishes; starting by licking from the bottom to the tip. When you wrapped your lips around him, he tangled his fingers in your hair and started bobbing your head on his cock. You couldn't take all of him, but he pressed on, making you gag.

“You take me so well,“ Charles sighed, throwing his head back. With the help of his hand in your hair, you went faster, feeling his tip touch the back of your throat with every bop of your head. He seethed through his teeth and after a few minutes, you could tell he was getting close. He was grunting like crazy and pulling your hair as if his life depended on it. God, when he looked at you— he almost came. Tears stained your face and your mascara was running.

“Fuck, baby, I can't hold it anymore,“ he moaned and rammed into your face a final time, releasing his cum down your throat. You swallowed everything. He was breathless and so were you, but even so— he still had more stamina left. Stamina that he needed to use up.

“I want to taste you.“ He sat you on the counter again, before roughly spreading your legs. His fingertips teased you, grazing your inner thighs; getting closer and closer to your cunt.

“Hurry, I need you,“ you sighed and grabbed his hair.

“Beg.“

“What?“

“I said to beg for it.“ The Ferrari driver had a lustful gaze and his eyes were filled with a certain need. The insatiable hunger for you.

“Please?”

“Not good enough.”

“Please, Charles.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Please… Eat me out, Leclerc.”

“Good girl,” he said before diving in. With a thumb flicking your clit, he began sucking, his tongue messaged your folds in an unreal way. He slurped as if he hadn't eaten in days and you were his salvation.

“Oh fuck, Charles!” You couldn't help but squeeze his head between your thighs. With one hand, he clenched your thigh tightly, continuing to suck you for all you were worth.

Your moans and gasps motivated him to go faster and thrust his tongue deeper into you. Your vision was blurry with pleasure. He was too good, and you couldn't take it for much longer.

“I'm going to cum,” you half-screamed and pulled him closer. He pulled away for a quick second to get a word in,

“Cum on my tongue, baby. Give it to me,” his words mixed with the pleasure of his tongue pushed you over the edge, and you found yourself releasing all over his mouth. He licked you clean afterwards and cleaned his face with a kitchen towel.

Whilst he was walking back to you, you noticed his dick being fully erect again. How that was possible, was beyond you. Apparently, he saw you staring; because he chuckled before trapping you in a delicious kiss. You tasted a bit of yourself on his tongue. It was so erotic, you couldn't fathom it.

“You taste like heaven, babydoll,” Charles whispered. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I'm going in. You're still on the pill, right?” He asked before doing anything. You nodded swiftly and bucked your hips desperately.

“Please, Charles.”

“Please what?“

“Please fuck me stupid, Charles” He was caught off-guard by your bold response. It flipped a switch in him that made him go rogue. You were immediately swept off the counter and bent over it instead. He pinned your hands above your head and rubbed your cunt before stroking himself a few times, and then entering slowly.

“Oh fuck, you're so tight.” You heard him groan. When he reached as far as he could with your current position, you arched your back to help him reach deeper. He rested to let you get used to him. You'd had sex more times than you could count, but somehow, you were always tight. This time wasn't any different.

After a few moments, you told him to move; which he did. He almost pulled all the way out, leaving just the tip in. From there, he slammed into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched like a cat.

“Fuck!” You couldn't help but scream out. The stretch was beyond amazing. He was doing you just right. With every moan and every call of his name, he gained more confidence. The confidence fed him the energy and stamina to go even faster and harder.

You were an utter mess. Your hair stuck to your forehead due to the amount of sweat that clung to it. You were seeing stars and it felt like you were choking. You repeatedly screamed out his name like a holy mantra. It was unreal.

“Scream my name louder, sugar. Let the entire hotel know who you belong to!” You obliged. Your screams got louder and his thrusts— wilder. You felt your legs going numb, so Charles lifted one and it helped him reach even deeper than before. His hips rutted directly against yours at that point. It was heaven on earth.

“Fuck, I'm so close!” You finally yelled.

“Cum with me, okay?”

You went at it like rabbits for a few more minutes before you felt your knot begin to undo itself. Leclerc’s thrusts became more and more sloppy. It didn't take long before you came all over his dick, which pushed him to fill you to the brim. The mixture of your essence and his dripped down your thighs. You couldn't move. You couldn't feel your legs.

“Let's take a shower and go take a rest.” He lifted you from the counter and swung you over his shoulder, walking into the shower. When he turned it on, you felt the hot drops of water rain down on your skin. He helped clean you, as you couldn't stand on your own.

“I'm sorry if I was too rough,” He said whilst scrubbing your back.

“No, I'm fine. This was amazing, Ferrari boy.” He chuckled at your nickname.

After showering, the two of you headed straight to his bed. You cuddled into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Your legs were entangled with his and his arm was wrapped around you, pulling you almost fully onto himself.

“Did you mean it? Do you really have feelings for me?” He asked, looking at the ceiling.

“Did you let me win?” You asked.

”... Yes, I did,” he replied sheepishly.

“Then you have your answer.” With that, you found it hard to stay awake for a second longer; passing out whilst hearing the sound of his heart beating to yours.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

©vettelsdarling

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.