#charlos snippet

[f1amboyant]

for the angsty prompts : charlos + "I give up. You won."

Hi anon! Thank you for the prompt!! This fits so perfectly into my current WIP (single dad charles au) and the scene I'm working on, I had to answer this way. I hope you don't mind 🤭 Here's a snippet for Training Season.

⚽️🍹🍺🎯

Carlos led him to the bar where they ordered new drinks (Charles chose the red cocktail, just because he liked the color, and also a bit because Carlos said he would probably like it) (Carlos took another beer, not daring to try anything new and because ‘it’s all for you tonight, cariño’). Charles tried very hard not to blush but his cheeks felt as red as his cocktail and it didn’t look like they were gonna go back to normal anytime soon.

“Do you know how to play darts?” Carlos asked.

“I mean, you throw the pointy things at the round thingy and try to score the most points, no?”

“More or less,” Carlos chuckled.

Turned out, Charles didn’t really know how to play darts, but Carlos did. And after a bit of teasing, he stepped closer to Charles.

“You take the dart like this. No, put your hand a little more like this,” he instructed, placing his own hand over Charles to show him exactly how. Their skin burned together and Charles’ heart kept beating faster and faster. “Okay, yes, like this, that's good.”

“Like this?”

The dart went flying, almost hitting the bullseye and Charles whooped. That was so much better than what he had done previously. Carlos truly was a good teacher (not that Gab hadn't said it before). But staring at the smug smile on Carlos’ lips, Charles wouldn't give him the opportunity to boast.

“It's on!” he shouted, probably louder than he should have. “You shouldn't have shown me. I'm gonna beat you now.”

“Oh really?”

“Really! Come on, come on, it's your turn.”

Charles really really wanted to win. But Carlos was good and just as competitive as Charles was. They both yelled at the board when they missed the mark, they both laughed high when the other failed until, despite all his efforts (including blocking Carlos’ view and then his arm and then both at the same time) Charles lost. He had laughed though. A lot. And he absolutely loved it. A new glass, blue this one, rested on the side, empty, his content poured into Charles’ stomach (and a little on his shirt when he had tried to cheat and block Carlos’ eyes). He felt a little dizzy but so elated he barely even noticed. He hadn’t felt like this in… well actually, he didn't think he had ever felt like this. Not since Gabriel at least.

“Okay, okay,” Charles finally said after Carlos beat him one too many times, and looking way too smug about it. “I give up. You won.”

“Say that again?” Carlos teased.

“Nope. Let's play something else.” He looked around the bar, spotting a new game on the other side. “I'm sure I can beat you at pool.”

“Can you, now?”

“Yes, let's go!"

⚽️🍹🍺🎯

-> angsty sentence starters -> ask box -> single dad!Charles au

[c2-eh]

What is this Toxic!Charles business?? 👀

Hi Mal love!

So that is basically just me being mean to Lando (ily you gremlin I just need it for fic). Charles is on a mission to steal Carlos from Lando (spoiler alert, he succeeds), because they are cats fighting, because they hate each other. It's "fun" at first, but not when Charles realizes that he kinda fell in love... It has carlando too, for plot purposes. Carlos is little slow in this one, bless his soul but yeah. That's that.

very shitty snippet, but still :')

Flashes of multiple cameras were blinding the whole room and the sound of pen gliding here and there on the paper was heard in the room, as dozens of journalists marked down every single word they uttered. Just to twist them into false sentences later.

Charles was sitting leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic chair, the hard material digging into his shoulder blades making him squirm to get more comfortable. It was pointless attempt.

The air in the room was stuffy and his Ferrari polo was sticking to his back. He wanted nothing more than for his press conference to end. Dark bags under his eyes were answer itself to a question if he feels rested after the summer break.

"Question for Charles. How do you feel about Redbull getting close to you in constructors championship?“ some journalist with german accent asked him. Charles lifts his gaze and looks at him, trying to school his face into neutral expression. The guy looks funny. His long face was covered in light stubble and his already small eyes, were narrowed making him look even more ugly. He was watching him like a vulture, judging Charles‘ every move with his pen laid down on the paper, ready to take notes.

Charles hates these types of questions. What is he supposed to say? Oh I love that. Couldn’t be happier someone is trying to take our place in championship.

[espressoferrari]

❄️ for the ask game please!

❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

okay...I will feed you. This is from a Charlos fic I started writing in a fervour yesterday in which Charlos try to seal their Ferrari arranged marriage by bringing the constructors championship back home to Maranello.....

“And Lando?” Charles asks, his eyes half-lidded as he takes another sip of his drink in the lowlight. 

Carlos knows what he’s really asking him. And Lando, quiet cheeky reference to things that hang in the air unspoken, a dangling piece of bait.  

But Carlos knows better than to ask about Max. That’s what Charles is aiming for, he thinks. A direct comparison, a chance for Charles to glorify his and Max’s whatever in blood and righteous battle, in the same fell swoop lazily pointing out the weakness of the gentle flame Carlos guards tight in his chest. But he doesn’t rise to meet the challenge so instead he bows to Charles’ game, not allowing him the satisfaction of a continued hunt. So instead he laughs, “It is true Lando is my friend, but you are also.”

Charles’ eyes widen imperceptibly and Carlos resists the temptation to smile, Charles is not often caught off-guard but Carlos has become expert at it over the years, and the thrill of the catch never lessens. 

“And until the end of the year we are Ferrari,” Carlos continues, setting his drink down in front of him to reach out and catch Charles’ shoulder. “Let’s get them, ay? And bring this championship back home.”

Charles laughs, his wine-stained mouth going soft and his eyes sharp as flint. “Vamos,” he agrees. “Forza Ferrari.”

“Forza Ferrari,” Carlos echoes back, like an Amen.

[f1-stuff]

kid fic 👀

Thank you for your patience, anon! Posted below is the 'prologue' of the fic. My google doc for this one is 13k words and counting, so look out for a part one on ao3 (hopefully) really soon! -> WIP game

It’s a Saturday in Melbourne when Carlos is called to the track early for a meeting with his manager and the team’s legal department.

He doesn’t think much of it - maybe it’s about some merchandising opportunity, or a special race suit for Spain. Or maybe he said some comment in an interview yesterday that he shouldn’t have, though he can’t think of what that would’ve been off the top of his head. And anyway, if that were the case, then his press officer would be there. He supposes he might be, actually.

Carlos takes his time, stopping for his usual espresso and saying good morning to any team personnel who’ve arrived as early as he has. He’s feeling optimistic - the car felt good in free practice yesterday, so he’s hopeful they can have a good weekend.

When he finally makes it to the conference room, the head of the legal department’s there, along with his cousin and manager, Caco. What makes Carlos stop in his tracks though is the television screen at the end of the room. It’s displaying a zoom call containing what can only be a room full of Ferrari legal aides and lawyers, all sitting and facing the camera with silent, somber expressions.

His eyes meet Caco’s, who’s already looking at him with an apprehensive arch to his brow, like he thinks Carlos knows the reason for this meeting. In other words, his cousin doesn’t know the reason for this meeting.

A tense, nervous energy permeates the room.

“Carlos. Take a seat,” the chief legal officer, Sabina, says, all business.

Carlos takes a seat beside Caco with trepidation, clearing his throat of sudden nerves. “What is this about?”

“Lucía Ibarra. Does this name sound familiar?”

His jerk reaction is to say ‘no.’ But he pauses, the name scratching something at the back of his memory. Lucy...

“Uh...maybe. Yes, I think so,” he amends. He knew a ‘Lucy,’ short for Lucía, years ago, and he knew her last name once upon a time, too. But it’s been a while. That, though...it sounds like it could be right. “What about her?”

“Do you know this woman?”

“I did- I mean...years ago-”

“Lucía Ibarra, twenty-six years old, living in France and working as a journalist for a small, local publication.”

France?

When he’d met her, she was living in Madrid with dreams of becoming a writer, studying toward a degree in university. She’d had a double-focus in French and journalism, so he supposes it makes sense if that’s where she’d ended up. 

Carlos feels a tickle of pride for her, but it’s buried underneath his bewilderment, as Sabina continues to list off details of a girl’s life that Carlos hasn’t seen or heard from in four or so years. A girl who Carlos had thought he would just continue to wonder about from time-to-time, who’d changed her number after...whatever they were together, so that even if Carlos had wanted to call he couldn’t.

“Carlos.”

“Yes. Sorry.”

“So you did in fact know this woman? That certainly complicates things, but no matter what, we have a plan in place.”

“A...plan-?”

“We’ve contacted your lawyer, who will join our call soon, I expect.”

Carlos meets eyes with Caco, who feels his gaze and returns it with equal dread.

“What...” He clears his throat. “What has happened to her?”

“There’s been an accident,” Sabina says, and his heart sinks. An accident? But it still doesn’t make any sense. What does this have to do with him? “We don’t have all the details. But we’re organizing a flight for you to France-”

“A flight? What- when?”

“Right after the race.”

“But- this is impossible,” Carlos insists, almost feeling like laughing, but sensing it’s the wrong time. He’s just so, completely lost by everything going on. “I cannot fly to France after the race. Japan is in two weeks.”

His race preparation will go to shit if he flies to Europe. The jetlag alone will fuck up his entire system and concentration. Not to mention the fact that he still has no fucking clue why he needs to go to France for a woman he kind of knew years ago, who he hasn’t spoken to since she told him to ‘figure out your shit’ in a hotel room in Barcelona.

He’s sorry to hear about her accident, of course. Does this mean she’s...dead? Shit. But he can’t drop everything to...attend a funeral, or whatever’s going on. And the team should know that. How do they even know about her?

“Carlos, this is non-negotiable. Now, we recognize the sensitivity of the situation, so we’ve decided you should stay for the race. But we don’t want you talking to any news outlets or making any statements.”

Statements about what, he wants to ask. But Sabina beats him to it.

“Lucía Ibarra had a child, Carlos - three years old. And apparently, she’s yours.”

[mercyreg]

Charlos Headcanons

Once again. These are more loosely based for a Discord Server. Sharing is caring so I shared!

Requests are happily accepted !!

Charlos HC

Charles is extremely shy and reclusive unless he knows the people well but that doesn’t stop him from being nice and “charming”

Charles had a Natural bond with Carlos immediately upon meeting him

Charles started movie marathons every chance he got with Carlos

Carlos is very big on Physical touch/Affection after Charles told him that he enjoys it

He purposefully pronounces Carlos’ name as “Cah-los”

Carlos has a bad habit of giving Charles “Those eyes”

Charles has on multiple occasions fallen asleep on Carlos. Whether it be on flights, bus rides, just sitting next to each other

Carlos always tries to have some physical contact with Charles

Charles wears bracelets and rings every chance he’s given because Carlos likes to mess with them

Charles adores it when Carlos speaks Spanish, even small phrases.

Charles is fully aware of the “ships” of him and the f1 grid. 

Again Charles only really acknowledges Charlos and Lestappen

They have taken showers together before

Carlos drags Charles’ to parties frequently 

They both have slept together, both were drunk. 

Carlos was sober enough to rememberer every detail due to him deliberately staying awake and chugging water TO sober up.

Charles was blackout drunk and barely remembered snippets let alone who it was.

Charles woke up in Carlos’ Ferrari polo but didn’t realize it until the end of the day when he took it off and saw “Sainz” and “55” On the back.

Carlos had completely mapped out everything about Charles sexually that night.

Carlos didn’t tell Charles because he thought he remembered and was staying quiet

Charles figured he slept with someone but never could put together who.

Charles will listen to any song Carlos tells him to, Even if he dislikes the singer, band, genre, etc.

They are a active duo in the club or at parties. You won’t find one without the other.

They sync their mic’s in their helmets during Practice races and talk to each other.

Both of their phones are filled with pictures of each other.

Charles enjoys holding or messing with Carlos’ hand or fingers when he’s bored

[moossings]

drawn in

the f1 mafia au that no one asked for and won't leave my brain at all. mainly charlos, but featuring most of the grid and ex drivers. i've been worldbuilding with @5ainz (bless for bearing with me) and in between drawings and character sheets, i ventured to write this tiny snippet to hype myself (and be less scared of writing). if you read this, thank you and enjoy! ✨

-

“You shouldn't be here.”

Carlos’ eyes don’t move from the painting. The Death of the Virgin, by Caravaggio. He smiles to himself, shaking his head. He wouldn’t expect less from the Rosso Corsa, always proud and ready to show off their legacy. Come to think about it, everything in his life was linked to red somehow. And at the same time, inevitably, to the wounds it left.

“Are you going to kick me out, altezza reale? Like a bad behaved dog?” He does turn his head then. His tone is supposed to be mocking, but the moment brown eyes meet green, his resolution falters.

Charles Leclerc, composed as ever, stands on the door, as if he had just closed it. Carlos swears he hears the lock turn as well, but his mind is rather busy tracking every single hair out of place, from the top of his head to the strands scattering on his forehead. His gun feels heavy where it rests in its holster under his jacket.

“And aren’t you the most loyal one? Fernando must be proud.” Charles leaves the door to stand next to Carlos, shoulders almost brushing but not close enough. It’s their thing, throw knives and dodge, push and pull. The Inspector’s little prince and the right hand of the Spanish Samurai.

The silence between them is not awkward, but it feels tense in the same way the air is charged right before a storm. They look at the painting, but the details they recollect are not the brushstrokes or perspective of the piece. It’s the subtle hints of cologne coming off Charles’ skin when he tilts his head, following the lines of the old wood on the frame instead of the ones of Carlos’ perfectly tailored suit. It’s the flex on Carlos’ clenched fists as his mind repeats over and over how very not good it would be to reach and find out how Charles’ hands feel with their fingers laced.

“Did you know,” Carlos says, his voice almost a whisper. “This painting was rejected by the patron who commissioned it. No one had ever painted the actual death of the Virgin, it was a dogma, and Caravaggio depicted her as mortal: pale, bloated and devoid of spirit.” He sighs and looks sideways at Charles, from under his lashes. “It is also said that Caravggio painted her after a prostitute, so maybe that was the real reason.”

Charles tries to school his features, to stop the smile from being evident, but those sweet dimples betray him. Time to stop pretending, it seems. “I didn’t know you were interested in art.” He turns to face Carlos fully, carefully studying the strong features he usually only catches in glimpses. He is setting the ground for truce, building the bridge.

Carlos chuckles, and it sounds tired. “Really? Don’t tell me Sebastian didn’t include it in my file. He used to be more thorough with his research, he is starting to slip.” But he still faces Charles, willing to meet him halfway. “There is a lot more that you couldn’t possibly know.”

“What if I wanted to find out? What would it take?” Charles takes a step forward. Carlos lets him.

“Stupidity. Recklessness. Naivety.” He counts with his fingers, brows furrowed but playful smirk. Charles can’t really tell which one he actually means. “Trust.”

“That sounds like a challenge, Sainz.” And Charles has never backed up from one. Today is not the day he’ll start.

He extends his hand and, in seconds, a warm bigger one takes it in a firm but soft grip.

“It’s Carlos.” A smirk draws up the corners of his full lips. “You are in for a ride, cariño.”

[wedriftlikelonelyplanets]

WIP Wednesdayyyyyy

(Last lines game, really!)

Another week, another tag game! Please share your last sentence; or, if you don’t have one, share a plot bunny or idea! (OR sketch for your artwork!)

Was tagged by @thelettersfromnoone THANK YOU I APPRECIATE IT SO MUCH WHEN YOU TAG ME IN THIS STUFF BECAUSE I GET TO GO STUPID AND FERAL

Get A Grip Before My Dog is Loose (Lestappen, Vampire!Max AU)

And then there’s a smile curling across Max’s face, predatory and sharp, as he tosses his phone to the side, direct attention turned on Charles. It’s too much. Too much and not enough all at the same time. “You want it?” He asks, his voice low, head tilted. “You want me to chase you? Pin you down? Make you take it?” doesn’t hold back the chuckle escapes as Charles flushes darker, and nods the affirmative. 

Small Talk, Big Love (Charlos, D/s (BDSM) divorce fic) (this is still a working title) Tag Here

Somewhere between Vegas last year, and Australia this year, they lose themselves. Somewhere in that long stretch of time, everything changes. Carlos a little harsher, Charles a little sharper, and Carlos doesn’t know if it’s intentional, or if Charles just can’t help himself. Too competitive, too driven, too willing to push to win that he’ll push everything else away. 

I'm so Lonely and You're the Only One That Knows Me (Landoscar, the negotiation fic)

Lando swats his hand away, gently, picks up the mug himself, tests the heat of the ceramic against his palm before bringing the cup cautiously to Oscar’s lips. It’s a repeat of the action from last night, Lando’s fingers coming up to cup the back of his neck, tilt his head back, tilts the mug, and Oscar takes a small sip, and then another, of the coffee. Warm slide of it settling somewhere in his chest 

Leaving Me Just When I Thought You Were Mine (Charlos, A/B/O with non-traditional dynamics)

Sometimes, he doesn’t know when it became more than just him panting after Charles like a bitch in heat, and instead, him feeling something stronger, stronger, deeper, like some loyalty that’s been instilled into him, like Charles collared him and called him his own. 

ANNND last but not least because I need you all to get snippets of it, I love this one so much and it's kinda been on the backburner for my Landoscar series and also the Charlos Divorce Fic (and NOW the vampire max fic)

The Lestappen Warped Tour AU (Lestappen, Warped Tour 2005)

Charles goes on stage wearing one of Max’s shirts, baggy on him and smelling like Max, and paired with his too-tight skinny jeans, Max wants to devour him. Pulls him off stage the instant Lake Despair's set is done, and they navigate their way through a crush of people. In the first quiet corner they find alone, Max licks at the sweat trickling down his neck, before sucking a mark into his collarbone so that everyone can see that Charles is his.

I don't have a world of people to tag so I'll tag the few followers I have that are writers. No pressure for anyone, I love you all the same. @foggieststars @tommybuckleys ...god i need more friends who are writing WIPs because i feel weird tagging people that i'm not moots with

ANYHOW love u all have a good time

[effervescentdragon]

And BABE ALSO?!!!!

what do you mean by "Ferrari boys brainrot" in that trend ??????

aaaaaaaa my charlos trauma is feeling a lot worse rn

This would be the engineer!charles au 😹 you nailed ittttt. Sadly chapter FOUR of this contains only a sex scene and this little snippet

“Where is Charles?” asked Carlos, aiming for nonchalance and aware that he missed for a mile even before Britta grinned at him.

“In a meeting,” she said, “with Sebastian and Mattia.” There was something mischievous in her eyes, but it didn’t bother Carlos, because she didn’t look malicious. Only amused. “A very important meeting.”

Carlos sighed. “You will not tell me what it is, will you?”

“Nope!” She popped the ‘p’, and walked away laughing. Carlos sighed again, and went to the gym.

hence why i said that chapter four of this is a long way coming, unlike mafia au 🫣 LOVE YOU ❤️

[beabnormal24]

I couldn’t resist it, I need your opinion on this little snippet from Chapter one of my new Charlos fic, which will come out as soon as possible.

Let me know what you think!

Chapter I

The apartment is quiet when they finally make it through the threshold, Charles’ icy joints creaking painfully once the comfortable warmth of the thermostat slips under the hems of his coat.

The lights are on, though, he notices when Pierre shoulders past him, grumpily stomping towards the bathroom.

Yuki is sitting in the farthest corner of the couch, headphones on and eyes wide open staring at the screen of his computer where there’s a purple coding line looking right back at him. Charles would bet money that he hasn’t blinked in at least ten minutes.

But Yuki is not the only person in the room, weirdly. The kitchen’s light is on as well, yellow neons casting mellow orange shadows on the living room’s pavement, reaching his toes where he’s finally slipped his shoes off.

Charles raises his head, confused for only a single second about the fourth unfamiliar figure sitting at their table.

“Oh, hi Carlos.”

Carlos blinks up at him slowly, the end of a blue ballpoint pen trapped between his teeth as he becomes aware of Charles standing not too far away from him, still leaning against the door as he takes his coat off.

His eyes are half lidded from what Charles can assume must be tiredness, if the rich collection of textbooks and notes scattered all over the table’s surface is enough of an answer, but he still smiles big and bright at him, like Charles has just brought him the greatest news ever.

“Hi, Charles!” He says back. The pen falls from his lips, hitting the open notebook between his arms, but he doesn’t seem to care a bit. Sharls, he’ll never get his name quite right, sometimes it’s an even worse pronunciation than Yuki’s one. But it’s also endearing, a bit. “How are you? Did you have a good night out? Had fun?”

Charles cringes at the thought of the recent events, stomach twisting with the residues of an – allegedly – good lasagna that he had had to pay for on his own after refusing yet another proposal of a one-night stand. He almost has half a mind to snap and scream a bit, let it all out, throw punches at the ceiling or perhaps tug at the ends of his hair that has grown longer over time - which would also be a bitter reminder of how many months have passed since he has been able to visit back home and get a good haircut from his mom’s neat fingers.

His patience is hanging on to a branch that’s barely holding out to the tree of his self-control, and the cocktail of anxiety from the nearing midterm projects, the pencils he should’ve bought yesterday instead of staring at his notes for two hours longer than he had planned and the unfortunate encounters that never seem to fail him lately, the whole deal about professors never being clear with their requests, is almost enough for him to ignore Carlos’ question altogether and follow Pierre’s stomping to the bathroom.

But dipping his cold hands under a hot stream of water wouldn’t be that good for his articulations. Besides, Carlos’ curiosity is genuine, much like always snd Charles doesn’t like to be a dick with people who don’t deserve it, which usually doesn’t include Pierre.

“Eh, alright, could’ve been better.” He shrugs indifferently, the half admission slipping effortlessly out of his mouth.

Yuki doesn’t react to that, but the roll of his impossibly dry eyes doesn’t exactly go unnoticed.

A frown appears in the crease between Carlos’ eyebrows, probably sensing the thick sarcasm that threatens to flow from below his tongue, but Charles is quick to talk over him before he can add anything else. “Studying with Pierre?” He asks, reaching with a hand behind his neck to finally untie his scarf.

The question couldn’t be more stupid, for sure, and Yuki lets him know with another silent roll of his eyes. It’s not unusual for Carlos to be sitting at their kitchen table, more so ever since he and Pierre have found out about their mutual interest in anything sports related, apart from their shared classes.

Charles doesn’t really know much about him, except for the fact that he’s a fierce Real’s fan, that he’s from Spain and that he moved to London for his Master degree after graduating in Economics-something-finance not more than a year ago, that he shouts too many curses in his mother language in front of the TV when some player misses a score – not that different from Pierre, on this aspect -, and that he’s some kind of a family friend of Lando and comes from money, as well.

Which doesn’t explain why he would prefer to spend time at their little apartment, where Yuki’s socks are still left unattended on the coffee table after three days and Charles’ sketches cover more than half of the windowsill and Pierre always forgets to turn the bathroom’s lights off. But Charles surely won’t be the one to complain about it when Carlos offers his cooking skills in exchange for their hospitality.

Yuki complains even less, for sure, being the one who mostly makes sure they’ll be having something at least edible for dinner. Whenever Carlos comes to their apartment, he likes to say that he’s finally off chef duty.

“Yes, Charles, we were studying.” Pierre’s tone is acidic, dripping with the bitterness of it when he comes back to the kitchen. As if on cue, the colder white light of the bathroom follows the back of his head like strobe light beams, hitting him square in the shoulders and the ruffled hair, strands pulled out by stressed fingers.

Charles would feel a bit bad about interrupting their studying session if he weren’t too distracted by the thought that they should really agree on a single color for lights in their home.

“Until someone decided to deem me as their personal taxi driver, no? ‘Cause they don’t seem to care at all about going out without making sure that they can come fucking back.”

“Pierre,” Charles hisses under his breath. From the corner of his eye, he can see Yuki pressing insistently on a button on his headphones. Something tells him it must be the volume. “Shut up.”

“Oh no, Charlie dear, I won’t shut up. I’ve told you that I had to study and yet-“

“Yes, I know! But I already apologized, what more do you want me to do?” He doesn’t know what language they’re yelling right now, a part of him really hopes it may be French, even though he knows Yuki will have a lot to complain about their ‘Speak English in common spaces’ rule. But there’s still another person in the kitchen with them, one that is currently looking from one side to the other, head bobbing towards who’s speaking like in a tennis match.

It’s not like he is embarrassed or anything, to be clear, but Pierre can get pretty nasty when he’s angry and stressed about exams, and Charles would rather not have Carlos as a spectator to that.

“I don’t know, maybe grow the fuck up? Stop going out and shit with people who clearly do not have the same intentions as you?”

Charles clenches his fists on either side of his hip. He can feel his nostrils starting to flare as he glares right back at Pierre, like they’re fourteen again and Pierre is telling him to drop the controller and stop acting like a crybaby.

It won’t last long, he knows, Charles is too attached to him to let stupid things like this get between them, and Pierre is too attached to him to not regret the words he spits out.

But right now, it’s an open battlefield.

“Don’t you dare tell me to grow the fuck up! You learn to shut off the freaking bathroom lights, then, and do your own laundry!”

Pierre twists his mouth to the side, blue eyes widening in fake surprise. “Oh, is that so now? Then why don’t you learn how to not burn everything you put on a stove? And maybe also get your driving license once and for all!”

Charles inhales sharply, letting out an outraged squeal that he would be probably feel abashed about if he weren’t busy with finding the right words to snap back at him. The driving license bit is a low blow even for Pierre.

It’s not even like he can do anything about it, when he lives abroad and there’s no way of him to get a car in London without leaving his mom and Arthur empty handed back home. Pierre is the only one with a car, because he has a shit ton of older brothers, differently from him.

But that’s not Charles fault.

“You prick!” He shouts back. “You know I can’t do that, and I can’t afford a fucking car!”

“Then you should learn how to drive mine, non? Instead of-“

“Guys.” Their heads snap around with matching confused frowns over their faces, the sound of that voice coming from an unfamiliar source. Even Yuki widens his eyes, going as far as raising his head up and away from the computer screen to stare at Carlos.

Carlos who had just interrupted their quarrel. Not even Max I-don’t-give-a-fuck Verstappen had tried to put himself in the middle of them that time they had started arguing about fries inside the burger or next to the burger.

Charles has to blink a few times to realize that it is Carlos, indeed. He must be much braver than he would’ve guessed.

“There’s no need to fight.” Carlos says, raising his hands up when Pierre narrows his eyes at him, probably ready to tell him off and unkindly inviting him to shut up. Ok, so they must’ve been speaking English, unless Carlos has started learning French all of a sudden. “I have a car, too, you know. It’s not like- a Ferrari or anything.”

Charles snorts. “Don’t worry, Pierre’s car is a piece of crap.”

“Charles, I swear-“

“Anyway.” Carlos starts again, raising an eyebrow. It’s almost a wonder how effective it is to make Pierre shut his mouth. Charles must learn from his tricks. “It’s a more than loved Golf, and if Pierre is too busy or anything, you can call me, and I’ll be more than glad to take it for a ride. I’m always at home anyway, or at the gym, so…”

The words take perhaps too much time for Charles to register them, because he’s still blinking astonished at Carlos while Pierre has already started shaking his head vehemently, Yuki’s eyes growing even wider.

“Absolutely not! He has to take his own responsibilities, Carlos. You can’t indulge him.”

“It’s not indulging, I just want to help.” Carlos protests, batting Pierre’s hands away when he tries to tap the pen on his head. “Stop it, cabrón.”

“And you stop with this-“

“Don’t you- don’t say that! I’m just being kind.”

“We all know why you’re trying to help.”

“Don’t say that!”

Pierre seems to finally relent just as Charles’ mind starts to process through whatever is happening. Pierre’s hands fall to his sides with a huff of frustration. “Alright” he exhales. “It’s your own problem to deal with, Carlos.” He says with finality, shoving Carlos’ pen in his pocket before taking a seat on the opposite side of the table, where Charles can recognize notes covered in Pierre’s poor excuse of messy scribbles.

Well then, no room for further discussion when Pierre decides that it’s time for him to go back to studying. Charles couldn’t agree more, after all, the tiredness in his bones creeping up on him as he lets the harsh façade fall to the ground.

Pierre will be up and making him too sweet tea in the morning for breakfast to apologize, anyway. These things never last more than a night of sleep.

“Thank you very much, Carlos.” He finally manages to say, wrestling the pen out of Pierre’s pocket to give it back to him.

Carlos offers him the same big and bright smile as before, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he looks up at Charles from his seating position, leaning his chin on his hand. “No need to thank me. I am at your disposal as long as you’ll let me borrow your almonds.” He says, pointing with a thumb towards the open can in the middle of the table, leaning precariously against a calculator and a crumpled-up note.

“Yes, of course. I’ll buy you as many as you want.” He assures, taking a handful of them before popping one into his mouth. “Yuki?” Yuki opens his mouth at the sound of his own name, giving Charles two thumbs up when he manages to throw one exactly on top of his tongue.

“Impressive.” Carlos mumbles under his breath.

Pierre rolls his eyes to the ceiling, purposefully blocking the right side of his face with a hand to pretend being completely uninterested with whatever is happening around him.

“I’m going to shower, now.” Charles says, already walking down the corridor. “See, Pierre, you should learn a thing or two from Carlos about being a good friend.” He adds, throwing an almond at him. It lands between his eyebrows, sliding on the bridge of his nose before falling right on top of the open textbook under his eyes.

Pierre’s curses and Carlos’ laughter get muffled behind the closed door of the bathroom.

[penaltyboxboxbox]

got tagged by @f1-stuff to share a snippet of a WIP ❤️ you guys are in luck because i have way too many unfinished things right now...

this is part of a fic im currently calling dinner party, which is playing around with some seb/charles/carlos love triangle, charles and seb are divorced, and charles has recently married carlos, comedy ensues as charlos invites seb to a housewarming dinner. fingers crossed i actually finish it one day because i love it so far lmfao. writing and tags below the cut 👼👍 enjoy

"I brought wine." He announces, holding it up as an excuse to shrug Charles off of him.

"Oh, you are such a gentleman! Thank you!" Charles scoops the bottle up from Seb's hand, examining the label.

"Bartolo Mascarello, oh, your friend is very generous." Carlos smiles, bringing his hand across Charles back, curling it around his waist. Charles leans into the touch,

"I have good taste." Seb smiles tightly. "And evidently so do you."

Charles' face twitches, almost imperceptibly.

"I have been very into it recently, wine. Charles' doing! He buys me a bottle of 2010 Vega Sicilia when we are doing lunch at Berria, and all of a sudden I am searching on google "how to start vineyard"" Carlos laughs, mimicking typing on his phone. It's genuine, it's insane sounding.

"It's good to have hobbies." Seb nods. "So I can expect that next party you'll be bringing me a bottle of your own then? Yes?"

The elation on Carlos' face is almost childlike, and it makes Seb want to roll his eyes. Pat him on the head like a puppy-dog.

"I like the way he thinks, Charles!" He pinches the meat of Charles' side. "See, it is not so crazy as it sounds."

Charles wiggles and folds at the prodding, making an offended sound.

"I did not say it was crazy, chéri, I said we need to be realistic because we just bought a house and-"

"And I would buy you six more houses if that is what you wanted." Carlos dips Charles back quickly into a kiss to shut him up.

Seb huffs a laugh through his nose. Good to know that still worked.

"So a vineyard is nothing. Now, I must go save your coq a vin, I think it is on fire." Carlos presses another quick kiss to Charles' temple, as he disappears down the hall. It ekes a smile out of Charles.

It's cute, Seb thinks. They suit each other well.

He and Charles stand alone in the foyer.

aaaaand i will tag @wewentcarracing @pressurizer @fractalkiss IF YOU WANT TO no pressure lmao..... have fun

[starzzach]

i saw this late bc i open tumblr once in a blue moon these days but thank u for the tag @f1-stuff !!

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

i think i've done this once or twice before but i don't remember which ones have been listed or if they've been listed at all etc

arranged charlos

epiphany 3

vamp

wag fic

meow

epiphany 1

there has come a ruler

son of the sea god

suburban legends (from the vault) (charlos version)

half of these have 500ish words in them but. perhaps a day in the future

open to whomever bc i forgot everyones' @ unfortunately

[f1amboyant]

we used to interact a lot, but then it stopped and now i'm scared/embarrassed to do that, so i'll use this way to tell you i'm excited for your single dad Charles au :)))

Hi there 🩵

I know it's easy to say, but please don't feel scared or embarrassed to interact again. I'm always open to interactions. But if you feel more comfortable sending anon asks, that's okay too 🥰

And the single dad charles au? This story truly has taken over my life at this point. I love this stupid little story so much 🥹 But I have to admit, it's really longer than anything I have tried to write before so it's taking a lot of time and energy from me. So thank you very much for being excited about this little story 🥹

Please, I would be very happy if you reached out (through asks or dms or whatever) about this story because I have already written 22k words that I cannot post yet and I'm itching to talk about it. So yeah 🫣

Anyway. Maybe I can give a little snippet? 🥰

.

Charles walked back to the leaving room where the game had finally come to an end. Charles didn't know if Gabriel's favorite team had won or not, but his son was still talking with Carlos excitedly.

Charles glanced down at his watch and sighed. It was way past Gabriel's bedtime but it didn't seem like the boy would get tired any time soon. That was okay. Tonight was a weird and special night.

He leaned against the doorframe, looking at the two: this beautifully tender man and his son. Something squeezed in Charles' heart. This image looked too perfect. He wanted this to be his reality so much. Carlos took such good care of Gabriel and it seemed Gab really liked spending time with him.

"I really like you, Carlos," Gab suddenly said, like he could read his father's mind.

Charles smiled. Of course his son who never stopped talking would say exactly what he had on his little mind. Like father, like son. But it seemed like Gabriel didn't want to stop there.

"Are you going to be my new dad?" the boy asked. "All the other kids have two parents. Can you be my second dad? My other dad didn't like me and left me," he added with a slight pout.

Charles' heart broke, right here and there. He had gone through a lot in his younger years but nothing, absolutely nothing broke his heart faster and harder than seeing his little boy say he wasn't loved by his genitor. Charles could go through hell and back. But this? This was unacceptable.

Charles stepped inside the room, ready to scoop Gabriel right into his arms in the tightest hug possible, but Carlos beat him to it. The coach put his big hand over Gabriel's head and ruffled his hair, eliciting a laugh from the boy.

"Ah, Gabi," Carlos sighed. "I'm sure your other dad didn't know you. If he had, he would have loved you, cielo. I'm sure."

He looked up, meeting Charles' eyes. Charles gulped down.

"Pi–" his throat tighten too much for this name to come out. "He wasn't ready to be a dad," he explained poorly.

"But Carlos can be my new dad, right papa?"

What was Charles supposed to answer to that? That yes, he would very much like to include Carlos in their lives? That yes, please fuck yes, he would very very much like to have Carlos with him and all that entailed? But that also no, because that was terrifying and Charles couldn't risk his heart getting broken again? That he couldn't risk Gabriel's heart to get broken?

Lost, Charles looked to Carlos. That bastard's smile grew more smug by the second. And if Charles looked back at Gabriel, all he could see were those bright blue eyes full of too much hope. Truly, Charles' life was ridiculous.

"Yes, Charles," Carlos probed. "Am I going to be Gabi's new dad? That's a very good question."

Charles felt himself blush harder and brighter than ever. His hair probably turned red too at this point. He hadn't stopped blushing all evening. This was utterly ridiculous. And there was only one escape.

"We can talk about that later, it's time to go to bed, Gab."

[c2-eh]

Abo 👀👀

hi anon! so this wip is only made up in my head and i have only 1 scene written so far, but i will try to give you a bulleted list for how it looks rn in my head (knowing myself, i might change it completely one day, from start to end but we'll see) and a snippet... i started writing it because i had 1 particular scene in my head so i HAD to... why is my brain like that ://

they are still drivers in this one

charles - omega and carlos - alpha (NO ONE is surprised)

the plot starts in 2021, just after they've became teammates

charles is not coping well with Seb's departure (Seb is an omega (or beta) too) so he's distant from Carlos at first, seeking comfort from other people at the team or other drivers

Carlos is miserable because of that, he's scared Charles won't ever let him get close to him - there's huge difference between Charles and Lando and he has to get used to the different dynamic

it gets easier when they truly get to know each other

they are true mates in this - high compatibility and all that so no matter how much they try to stay away from each other it's impossible

thinking of FIA being the problem (canon) because i hate FIA and i need to rage somewhere

ofc they mate in the end

lots of sex lol

possible mpreg. maybe. idk, i've never wrote that

now snippet!

Seeing Carlos enter their living room, Charles‘ shoulders sag and his whole posture relaxes. He feels so happy he might cry.

And he does.

„Tesoro, I am home,“ the tears burst out of Charles‘ eyes, as he runs to his mate, latching himself onto him like a leech. Carlos immediately wraps his arms around him, one arm holding his head, while other envelopes his waist. He brings him as close as possible, the body heat from Charles transferring to Carlos‘ cold one.

„What’s wrong, love?“ Carlos asks in a gentle voice.

„I saw the post race conference and I-“ he sniffles, his throat sizing up, not allowing him to continue.

He buries his face in Carlos‘ neck, breathing in his typical scent that has traces of Charles‘ scent mixed in it. He smells amazing and Charles will never get used to the mouthwatering scent, that envelopes him almost everyday.

so. that's it :)

[foggieststars]

genuinely there is nothing more sexy in this world than the horrible no good teammate vibes that charlos cannot help but emanate <3

well exactly. nobody asked but have a snippet of a wip i dearly hope will become a fic before charlos uhh. stop being teammates </3

Carlos has a bit of trouble. After that. About not thinking about Charles - with his - well. Yeah. So, okay, whatever. 

So, maybe Carlos has been thinking about it. A bit. 

And it’s not right, and it’s not fair, because Charles is the one with the contract for next year, Charles is the one with the bright shiny rosso corsa future. Carlos should be thinking about his own future, should be focusing on the calls from team principals, should be burying his nose in data, trying to figure out how to extract everything from the car, how to keep Charles satisfactorily behind him this weekend as well. 

But instead, every time he closes his eyes, all Carlos can think about is Charles, three-fingers deep inside himself, the beautiful noise he’d made when he’d opened his eyes and found Carlos standing there, and the way the lube on his fingers had caught the lighting and fucking glistened and –

Yeah. That.

There are a lot of things that Carlos is supposed to be doing, and thinking about his exceptionally fuckable teammate isn’t one of them. 

[f1-stuff]

VICTORIAN CHARLOS ROYALTY ABO you have sent me into chaotic overdrive with that sentence oh boy am I excited to read that!!!!!!!! Thank you to your brain as always

Hehe I'm glad you're excited!! So am I... 😏 which is why I'm going to share a bit of it now!!! 😝 (sometimes, I simply can't help myself)

For some exposition, Charles is the crown prince of Monaco and an omega, Carlos is the alpha son of a Spanish duke (but distantly in line for the throne, which also makes him a prince). Their meeting has been arranged by carlos' father & cousin and charles' uncle, which makes this a sort of arranged marriage AU, except that Charles still gets to choose his husband in the end. Charles is almost twenty-one, and he's looking forward to certain freedoms that will award him. All of this was inspired by The Young Victoria (2009).

Behold, a 1.8k-word snippet:

Charles’ eyes scan over the chess board, carefully considering his next move. He can feel the looks of the rest of their party burning into the side of his face. He glances sideways to confirm his suspicions, and notes several people averting their eyes in a hurry.

When he looks back to Carlos, the other man is giving him a conspiratorial smile. Charles sighs, his lips curving up at the edges as he settles on moving his rook.

Ever since their walk earlier that afternoon, Charles’ feelings have...softened slightly toward the Spaniard. He much prefers when the man isn’t feeding him answers that he believes Charles will like, and luckily, it seems they’ve mostly done away with that nonsense now. There’s no doubt that Carlos is...handsome. Or that his scent seems designed to tempt Charles. But he’s smart enough to know that Carlos has his own motivations for being here, and that it would benefit him and his family very much indeed if they were to wed. Charles has no intention of finding a mate yet, not when his freedom is so close at hand.

As Carlos decides on his next move, Charles’ face begins to burn once again from the others’ returned stares. His jaw clenches.

“Do you ever feel like a chess piece yourself? In a game being played against your will?” He doesn’t bother to lower his voice. It would likely be futile, not to mention that he would welcome his words having a shaming effect on their company. If only. 

Carlos’ curious gaze rises to meet his own. He takes a moment to respond, brows furrowing as he considers Charles’ words.

“I hadn’t thought of it. But I suppose so, yes.”

“I do, constantly,” he sighs. “I feel their eyes assessing me, their fingers moving me round the board.”

“Your parents?”

“Everyone. My uncle, brother, advisors, politicians... They’re all ready to seize hold of me and drag me from square to square.” He chuckles to lighten the tone, and Carlos’ lips make an effort to smile, but fall short. 

Carlos glances over at the others, before his attention returns to the board and he finally makes his move. “Then, you had better master the rules of the game until you play it better than they can.” 

His eyes meet Charles’, and they hold there, candlelight flickering within their depths in a hypnotizing pattern. It feels like it takes all of Charles’ willpower to peel his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“You don’t recommend I find an alpha husband to play it for me?” he asks, raising a brow as his rook takes Carlos’ pawn.

“I should find one to play it with you, not for you.”

Charles feels delighted surprise drip down his spine as he considers Carlos’ words. He’s never really...thought about marriage like that. It had always seemed like another prison he would be forced into. But if he were to choose a mate and a husband as an equal, someone who would play with him, like Carlos suggests...

They continue playing for a moment in silence, as Charles decides how to respond, but he’s been thrown off slightly, Carlos proving once again to be unexpected.

“You know, my father wants me to marry King Torger’s nephew, George.” He sees the flicker of distaste that flashes across Carlos’ face, and has to bite his lip not to laugh.

“Hm,” Carlos grunts, picking up his bishop. “What’s he like at chess?” He knocks Charles’ pawn aside, then looks up and grins.

Charles stifles a laugh, glancing over at his family. His uncle and mother are smiling contentedly down at their laps, his mother with her embroidery and his uncle with his newspaper. Charles’ good mood dims slightly, realizing how easily he’s playing into their hands by enjoying Carlos’ company.

And yet he can’t help the affection and attraction that simmers within him when he looks back at Carlos and the scent of dewy grass and fresh oranges caresses his nose, so refreshing compared to the usual dusty stale air of the drawing room.

He wins their first game because Carlos underestimates him, like so many others. But Carlos requests a second match, and this time, manages to take the win. The excited buzz of a good challenge fills Charles with a restless energy that he hasn’t felt in years, and they play a third game, then a fourth, and a fifth. Eventually, as the others are beginning to nod off in their chairs, they decide to retire for the evening.

He’s just taken Andrea’s hand to begin his ascent up the stairs when his name is called out behind him, followed almost immediately by that damn scent. Charles looks over his shoulder at Carlos, who almost appears out of breath, like he’d rushed to catch up to him. They had already said goodnight in the drawing room, but perhaps he’d thought of something else to tell Charles.

“It’s alright, Andrea. Carlos can take me up.” 

Andrea’s eyebrow twitches slightly with displeasure, but he would never protest. He steps aside, Carlos taking his place.

“You’ll have to hold my hand,” Charles explains. “It is a ridiculous precaution, but Maman insists.”

“Of course,” Carlos says, bowing slightly.

He offers his hand to Charles, who takes it after the briefest of hesitations. It’s the first time their skin has touched, and Charles suppresses the shiver that rolls through him.

For a moment, they simply stand there, feet unmoving, as Carlos’ thumb settles gently over his knuckles. His hand is warm and large, his fingers slightly calloused, from riding or shooting perhaps. He holds onto Charles’ fingers just tight enough to reassure, but not so tight as to entrap him. It’s a delicate balance, and Charles wonders how he’s managed to find that sweet spot so gracefully.

With some effort, Charles forces his feet to move, and they begin their climb.

“Did you want to tell me something?” he asks.

“Ask you, actually. Your father - he didn’t join us tonight.”

“Yes. He is...his health is poor,” Charles says, pushing through the sadness and worry to give Carlos a polite smile. “We...do not know how much longer he has.”

“Ah.” Carlos swallows, and in his gaze, Charles sees the man’s love for his own father. His brown eyes dip at the outer edges in sympathy. “I am very sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” he mutters.

“I would have loved to meet him.”

The sentiment makes Charles smile for real. He isn’t certain what his father would think of Carlos, but so far, there hasn’t been much to object on.

They climb a few more steps in silence, and only when they’re about to reach the top does Carlos speak again.

“I wanted to say that I may not entirely understand what you are going through, or just how much of a pawn you are feeling...” They pause on the landing. “But I know a bit of what it’s like to be moved around like a chess piece in someone else’s game. And I know a bit of what it’s like to feel as though your life is not your own.”

Charles studies him. He seems sincere, but it’s hard to imagine this alpha knows an ounce of what Charles has been through.

“Does your mother also assign someone to guide you up and down the stairs?” he asks, brow arched teasingly. Carlos lets out an amused huff, glancing down at their still clasped hands.

“No, indeed I do not shoulder that particular charge. But I do know how duty and obligation to one’s family, one’s country, can eclipse even your sense of self.”

That strikes a chord within Charles, who has wasted hours and hours of his life wondering who he really is beyond an omega, a prince. If these things were stripped away, who is he underneath?

“And yet,” Carlos continues, before Charles can formulate a response. “I am finding my current duty to my country to be much more enjoyable than I had anticipated.” Smiles spread over both of their faces, and something giddy and dangerous alights deep in Charles’ stomach.

Do not fall for it, Charles.

“Did your father instruct you to use all your charms on me?”

“My cousin, actually,” Carlos admits, startling a laugh out of Charles for his honesty. “He also told me not to let your beauty distract me. Yet, I confess, I have never been so distracted in my life.”

Charles wants to roll his eyes at the transparent attempt to romance him, but all his lessons in etiquette restrain him. Instead, he presses his lips together to prevent a smile, not wanting to give Carlos the satisfaction. Unfortunately, Carlos is watching his expression closely enough that he notes Charles’ attempt and responds with a smug grin of his own.

For a moment, they stand suspended, hands still holding one another’s, both unwilling to let go. And to his slight shame, it is Carlos who ends the stalemate, bowing at the waist to barely graze his lips against the back of Charles’ hand, his breath warm and startling. Charles’ heart stutters, but he schools his expression as the other man straightens once again, releasing his hand.

“Goodnight, Monsieur.”

Charles is afraid to speak, worried his voice will betray just how overcome he is by the barest touch of lips on his skin - not even a kiss, really. Embarrassing.

So he simply nods, then turns and strides toward his rooms without looking back. It’s only when he’s almost through the door that he glances just one time over his shoulder to see Carlos descending the stairs. 

He doesn’t wait around long enough to see if the other man looks back.

His attendant helps him undress while Andrea readies his bed. Charles brushes a thumb over the back of his hand, feeling the ghost of lips there.

“Will my lord miss the prince and princesses when they’re gone?” his attendant asks.

“Don’t be impertinent,” Andrea admonishes. Charles just smiles to himself as he undoes his necktie. “That young man pesters you.”

“Please, Andrea,” Charles sighs, shouldering off his waistcoat. “After all this time, you really think I’m going to walk straight into another jail?”

He’s taking off his shoes when Andrea eventually responds. “You must marry one day.”

“Well, I don’t see why I must,” he says, shaking his head. “But if I do, it shall be to please myself, and no one else - not Maman or Uncle or my father.”

So what if he never has children. There will always be another heir somewhere. Sure, it would be dangerous to remain an unmated omega. But if anyone could do it and survive, Charles thinks a sovereign prince, with more protection than anyone else in the country, could succeed.

He’s not marrying anyone just yet. Not even the charming Spaniard with the kind eyes.

[adventuringblind]

Thank you for the tag @lellabellawrites (I DIDN'T KNOW WE WERE MUTUALS???? I'm sorry T_T)

My WIP's are a literal mess but HERE WE GO!

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs

OC is the reader insert just so we're all on the same page here!

Shorts & oneshots

LN/OP - BDSM AU - ANGST - (Protective Oscar? sure, wth not)

OP/LN/OC and CS/OC (Sorry Carlos)- Hurt/Comfort - Oops… I Lied - PART 1

LL/OC - ED Hurt/Comfort - Shame On Them for Shaming You

LN/OP/OC - BDSM AU - ANGST - Religious TrAuMa (FEAT. Oscar being a mess because he can't be everywhere at once)

OP/OC - HURT/COMFORT - COLLARS

LN/OP - Hanahaki

LN/OP - SMUT - It’s giving… boundaries - F2 GRID POLYCULE BECAUSE I SAID SO - (Vel, please stop letting me do these things)

LN/OP - SMUT/FLUFF - A/B/O - MPreg - The Consequences of OUR Actions, Oscar

LN/OP - SMUT - The breaking point is behaving... *shrugs*

LN/OP - SMUT - Free Use - (Dom Oscar bein a pervert AGAIN... does it count if he's not actually doing much? Also Jendo and Loscar and Lestappen and Charlos and Norstappen AND EVERYBODY FUCKING IG)

MV/CL - ANGST - Loves Fucking Embarrassing - (sorry Kelly I needed a Villian.... not sorry Jos because FUCK YOU)

LS/OP - ANGST - (question: how long can adrenaline keep you awake while driving and bleeding out because Logan decided to be self stabby RIGHT BEFORE THE RACE?)

LN/OP/MV - DBH AU - Do Androids Have Dicks? - PART 2 (and 3 and 4 and possibly 5 now???)

OP/LN - ANGST - Stop the Noise; It’s Too Quiet - PRETTY BOYS ARE SAD BOYS ARE CRYING

LL/LS/OP/OC - Hurt/Comfort - It’s A Little Dark In Here

Series

Matilda: Chapter Four

Kill me Kill me Kill me: REWRITE IN PROGRESS AND I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT IT

Pretty to Me: My Pretty Boy

Love, come in, the water is fine: New Landoscar series I'm working on

So okay... I have A LOT of WIPS. Apologies to anyone who can't manage their way through my messy writing. I'm a disorganized mess who can't plan my writing because I never stick to the plan anyway.

ASK AWAY PLEASE I WANNA YAP

Tagging: @481boxboxbaby (Mom is responsible for a lot of these btw) @nurse-floyd (cause you feed content I NEED) and idk @vellicora (Vel) has any wips but like she's responsible for a good portion of the things on this list as well <3