#driving his maserati

[dramaticlacrosse10]

proof that Andrew Minyard is the goat. shutting bitches up with a single sentence. because neil smacked you... now what. you'll WHAT? WHAT, HOE? nothing. exactly,,,, stinky ass,

QUIET AINT NO BACKTWALKKKKKK

[saerins]

heyy you don’t have to do this but could you please make those moodboards that was like the one you made of otoya and yn’s aesthetics awhile back but based of on yn and sae in chapter 5?

-🐰

of course here you go :)

[jane-the-fool]

someday ill make a whole dissertation about why hozier is actually not the forest prince that people perceive him as and actually modernity and its imagery is at the forefront of so much of his work and it is actually so much more interesting to see his work like that rather than an escapist fantasy about some made up fantastical past, in this essay i will

[nebulaeternal]

✧༺┆✦Reflections of Desire✦┆༻✩

―୨୧⋆ ˚GENRE/WARNING: smut, jealous sylus, mirror kink, slight bondage, breeding kink, orgasm denial, orgasm control, mirror sex, porn w/ little plot, alcohol mention. ―୨୧⋆ ˚SUMMARY: While attending a high-society event, Sylus experiences a slip of professionalism as he slowly becomes consumed by his jealousy and his fantasy after watching his partner in crime flirt with their target. ―୨୧⋆ ˚WORD COUNT: 4.3K ―୨୧⋆ ˚A/N: Hello! This is my first real post on here. It's been a while since I've written so it may be a bit rusty, but I hope you enjoy! (I did go back and edit this a couple times cause I kept getting ideas, so if you’re revisiting, I hope you enjoy~) ―୨୧⋆ ˚LINKS: AO3 Version, Twitter(come interact with me!)

During the time that you’ve known Sylus, it was an intriguing fact that the crimson-eyed crow had harbored a fascination with mirrors. If you recall correctly, he had several decorative mirrors placed meticulously throughout his mansion, either adorned with beautifully intricate details or simple sleet yet elegant designs. While it was in the nature of a crow to collect shiny objects, for a man like Sylus it was somewhat out of character for him.

You hadn’t given it much thought–that is, until you caught him gazing intently at you through the reflection of the mirror, as you put on the finishing touches to your makeup. Your eyes locked, and you watched as a smirk creeped onto his face, shamelessly checking you out. You rolled your eyes and returned to the task at hand–your makeup.

Slowly and deliberately, you brought the lip gloss to your lips, applying it in a rather sensuous and seductive manner, something Sylus took great pleasure in watching, captivated by the way your lips moved against the tube. His mind slipped, losing himself in thought, indulging in the fantasy of kissing you, stealing your breath right from your lungs, watching as your lips grew glossy and plush, like pillows he so desperately wanted to lay his lips on.

“Ok, I’m ready. Let’s go.”  you chirped, turning on your heel to face him. Sylus remained silent, his gaze darkening and unyielding, eyes slowly trailing down your figure. He savored the way your custom-tailored dress clung perfectly to your body, memorizing the way it twisted and curved over your skin.

He couldn’t resist the pull, the sound of his polished dress shoes clicking against the floor. Your eyes followed him until his body was pressed flush against yours, arms slipping around your waist. “God, you’re so beautiful. I’ll never get tired of this.” He says just above a whisper as his face hovered only inches above yours, eyes flickering down to your lips once more.

A light blush crept onto your face, a smirk gracing your features as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him impossibly closer. “For you, Love? I’ll do it again and again.” you teased, lips brushing lightly against his. You knew exactly what that would do to him and it was driving him crazy. 

The two of you stood there, holding each other, gazed locked and burning with an intense flame of passion, tension in the air so thick you could cut it with a knife. Sylus’s arms tighten around you, as he backed you into the vanity mirror behind you, taking a quick glance at your reflections, noting how small you were against him.

Moments before desire flooded his senses, he cleared his throat, pulling back slightly, composing himself a little. “We better get going or we won’t make it at all.” His voice was low and gruff as he pulled away, fighting to keep his desire under check. “Shall we?” he asks, holding out his arm, ready for you to take it.

You smoothed out your dress before linking your arm through his, taking your customary place at his side. Sylus led the two of you out the door to his Maserati, opening the passenger door with practice elegance. Like the gentleman he was, he ensured your dress was carefully tucked inside before gently closing it and heading around to the driver’s side.

He slid into the car and started up the ignition before taking off with speed. As he drove, the two of you reviewed the details of the mission–after all, that was the real reason you were headed to the damn party to begin with. “Stay close when the targets bite.” you remind him, almost shivering at the thought of how many creeps lurked out there.

“You know how men can be,” he said, flashing you his signature, confident smirk. “Now Sweetie, you know I would never leave your side.”  He added smugly, causing you to giggle despite the slight tension that lingered in the air. 

Upon arriving at the party scene, the place was dimly lit, small talk and occasional laughter filling the otherwise quiet atmosphere. You exchanged a final nod with Sylus before parting ways to carry out assigned tasks. You positioned yourself at the bar, using Sylus’s black card to buy yourself a drink, all part of the elaborate ruse you were crafting.

The bartender returned with a glass of red wine, and almost on cue, one of your targets slid up beside you. What’s a beautiful lady like you doing all alone at the bar? No escort?” he asked, his eyes greedily taking you in. You raised your wine glass to your lips, meeting his gaze while you sipped at the deep red liquid. 

Feigning interest in the unfortunate man, you lowered the glass and replied, “Just enjoying a quiet moment,” your voice as smooth as the wine you just tasted. You flashed an innocent yet seductive smile, Bringing the wine glass to your lips once more, taking a sip watching him intently. He had taken this as an invitation to lean closer, his breath reeking of cigarettes.

“You don’t seem like the type to be alone.” Fighting against the urge to curl away from his antics, feeling disgusted by his behavior. Your eyes scanned his figure up and down, slowly trailing, such a convincing act you put on. “Maybe I was just waiting for the right company.” You tease, chuckling whilst you swirl the wine in your glass before gently setting it down again. 

The man before you gave a smirk, convincing himself that he was winning his way into your–well panties. “Well, it looks like you’ve found it.” Giggling at his comment, you proceeded with your playful banter. Sylus was on the other end of your meticulously concealed earpiece, listening to the exchanges that occurred between the two of you.

That last giggle you let out fueled the fire of Sylus’s growing irritation. He groaned in frustration–after all, that playful behavior was typically reserved for him and only him, however, he was there to help complete a mission, and he could not by any means, let his possessive nature get the better of him.

As luck would have it, you managed to extract the information you needed from the pitiful excuse of a man, before putting on one final Oscar-worthy performance and bidding him a farewell. As you walked away, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The tension finally leaving your body as you headed towards the bathroom to escape the noise. 

With a clearer head, it dawned on you that you had not heard from Sylus since your flirtatious incident with the man at the bar. Ultimately, it was not the most pressing matter, knowing that he could handle himself. You’d look for him after taking a moment to breathe and splash yourself with some cold water.

As you turned the corner to the bathroom, a firm grip seized our arm, spinning you around before cupping a hand over your mouth, muffling your attempt at a cry for help. Panic surged through your body, heart thumping out of your chest. 

With wide eyes, you found yourself face to face with none other than the crimson eyed man, his appearance almost disheveled as he pressed you against the wall. Relief washed through you as you realized it wasn’t an intruder. Gently, you pulled his hand away from your mouth. “God, you scared the hell out of me, Sy.” you said, eyeing him up and down. His usual composure was replaced with something more desperate, needy even–breath ragged and raw, need lingering in his gaze

“Sorry, Love, I didn’t mean to startle you.” he murmured, his voice almost breathless, something you found rather amusing. He was usually so poised. He placed his hands on your hips smirking, questions arose within you.

“What happened to y-” your words were abruptly cut off as he swiftly pulled the two of you into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He stood there for a moment, still turned to the door while you turned to the sink to splash some cold water on your neck.

The faucet handle squeaks to a stop. Once more, you caught Sylus’s reflection in the mirror, his gaze boring into yours, burning with intensity, just as he had earlier that evening. His eyes roamed hungrily over your body, watching the tendrils of hair that stuck to your damp neck, water droplets slowly trailing down your skin, pooling in the hollows of your collarbones. The sight before him was too tempting for him to ignore, his clothes feeling unbearably tight and restricting against his body. He could no longer resist his urges.

Hearing the all familiar click of shoes against the floor, his steps grew closer, once again taking in the sight of your body from behind. You attempt to turn around and meet his gaze but was promptly interrupted by his deep sultry voice, soft yet commanding, all while his hands slipped onto your hips, steading you by the hips “Don’t turn around..” he murmured as he pulled you closer to him.

His crotch was pressed against your bottom, chest flush against your back. Your face began to burn, you could feel him, all of him. Instinctively, you exposed your neck to him, to which he eagerly latched his lips onto the skin where your neck and shoulder meet, eyes boring deep into you. He took pleasure in watching every second of what he was doing to you, seeing how your eyebrows furrowed upwards, in such a pleasurable manner, one he found cute. Your jaw went slack as the air was filled with your pants and gasps.

You moaned softly as you felt the suction from his lips against your skin “Sylus..not here-” attempting to steal a glance at his direction but was quickly interjected by his hand gripping your jaw gently yet firmly, turning your head back towards the mirror “Eyes on the mirror, Kitten.”

Before you could even protest, the man drew out, yet another moan from your lips, littering your neck with kisses and love bites. Your body grew weaker with each passing second, feeling yourself begging to crumple from the pleasure. Bracing yourself for his lustful antics, you put your arms on the sink, propping your body up while his arms trailed and roamed. “Sy…hng..wait..” you were hushed once more. He bared his teeth, revealing his subtle fangs that you love so much, and sunk them into your skin, effectively hushing you momentarily. “Shhh, let me have this. I didn’t like the way you were flirting with that man.”

The mirror before you was already starting to fog up. Had it not been for the rapping of fingers against the door, it would have only gotten foggier, immediately alerting you two that your time was up. “That’s ok, we can finish this up at home.” Sylus then picked you up and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, leaving you blushing and covering your face as the man waiting outside the door witnessed the scene and almost went pale.

“Sylus! Put me down!” you whined and protested, thumping your smaller fists against his strong back, but the man was on a mission and had only one thing on his mind. You. His hand came up to firmly slap you on the ass, causing you to squeak, effectively shutting you up and keeping you still. Getting to the car, he placed you gently in the passenger seat of the car and went around the front before getting in the driver’s seat, not hesitating to start the engine before speeding off once more.

The two of you arrive back at his mansion, the twins waiting to greet you both. Giving you no room to speak to the two, Sylus picked you up and slung you over his shoulder whilst he tossed them the keys to his car. Kieran fumbled to catched the keys, watching the two of you disappear into the distance.  Without saying a word, they understood exactly what their boss wanted.

The two of them waved at you, snickering at what they could only guess was about to happen between the two of you. Having given up ages ago, you now lay limp on his shoulder, the ache of his rigid structure digging into your belly. You watched the familiar rooms and decorations pass as he walked you back to his room, where he tossed you gently onto the bed. His lips were quick to latch onto yours, his hand resting on the back of your neck, pulling you in for a heated kiss, the silence of the air being filled with ragged breaths and lips smacking.

Pulling away from you, you could see the lip gloss now staining his lips, a red and glossy streak outstretched past the corner of his mouth. He leaned back down for another, not giving you much time to breathe, your flavor too intoxicating for him to get enough of. He took your lips with a hunger you knew deep down could only be satisfied in one way.

The noise of it all reached your ears, causing your face to burn even hotter whilst you felt his hands snake up your body, slowly peeling your dress off of you. His lips left yours and began to trail down your body, taking his time with each kiss and bite he planted against your skin “You’re so beautiful, I could do this all night long.” He murmurs against your skin, bringing the strap of your dress lower and till he could slip your breasts out.

You and Sylus may have done this a couple times, yet you found yourself still shy and blushing each time. He kissed his way down your legs, whispering praises and showering you with an affectionate lust. You couldn’t help but cover up, still feeling shy. Sylus then brings his hands to yours, gently holding your wrist as he pulls your arms away “Don’t hide from me, Love.”

Taking your wrists in one hand, he plants soft kisses on your skin, each kiss leaving your skin scorching hot. He then pins them above your head, leaving his other hand to roam freely, exploring your nearly naked body. His lips eagerly latch onto your nipple, causing you to moan and arch your back, further shoving your breasts in his face. “Sylus~” the sound of you moaning out his name was driving him up the wall and it only made his blood run hot through his veins, he couldn’t stay away and it spurred him on further.

Letting your wrist go and holding your hips with both his hands, your fingers found your way to his hair, tangling in his silver locs while you get consumed wholly by pleasure. 

You then see his eyes flicker for a moment, following his gaze, your eyes landed on the beautifully carved mirror with golden trimmings that sat not too far from bed.

He slips your dress off completely, scooting the two of you closer to the mirror. His lips never once leaving your body. Gently flipping you onto your stomach, his fingers delicately trace along your spine, while he takes off his tie.

“Put your hands out in front of you.” You do as he says without question and stick both your hands out in front of you. Mewling needily for him. He then leans over you bringing the tie to your wrist, binding them together “Face down, ass up.”  His tone was commanding and gruff, causing the heat within you to rise. You shuffle and scoot, shifting your weight from your stomach to your knees and elbows, your pussy clenching around nothing as it dripped with your arousal.

Your scent hits Sylus’s nose, rushing almost immediately to his cock as he lets out a soft hum, watching as you flutter around nothing, almost as if it was an invitation for him to sink into your walls. Throwing caution to the wind, he quickly slipped himself out of his pants, unable to resist any longer, and positioned himself behind you. Watching his reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but hide your face when the two of you locked eyes, seeing his body looming over yours with an insatiable desire.  

Placing his palm on the small of your back, he guides your body lower as his throbbing erection laid between your ass cheeks. Gripping your chin  he turned your head, forcing you to look at the reflection. “Watch.” He growls into your ear, that was not a suggestion, it was a command. The head of his cock teases your entrance while your face begins to contort into a pleasurable expression as you feel him slowly sliding into you. You can hear a stifled groan escape his lips as he pushes himself to the hilt, letting out ragged, needy breaths, a string of expletives following before he finally bottoms out.

He was kind enough to give you a few moments to adjust to his size. Slowly, he pulled out, leaving just the tip inside before slamming back into you, a force so strong, your body lurched forward. Unable to catch yourself, you tried your best to support your body with shaky arms. The instant pleasure that came to you from his forceful thrust had your eyes rolling to the back of your head and spit dribbling down your chin.

He caught a glimpse of your blissed out face, smirking whilst he continued to thrust into you, his pace picking up as his gentleness was now replaced with an almost jealous vigor. You struggled with keeping your eyes trained on the mirror ahead of you and proceeded to bury your face in the mattress in an attempt to muffle your cries as well as hide your embarrassment.

You felt his hand snake around your neck pulling you out of the mattress and into the air, having your body nearly pressed up against his. He turns your head to the mirror once more “Be a good girl and watch how I fuck you.” but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You knew it would be the beginning of your unraveling and you had only just begun.

“N-No ah!” Sylus gave one particularly hard, angled, purposeful thrust, forcing your eyes to fly open and look at the sight before you. Your neck was littered with marks and bites from earlier that night while he drove his cock further into you, watching you cry out in the reflection of the mirror.

“Now, was that so hard?” he purred out, feeling you clench impossibly tighter around him whilst you watched both your bodies collide in a sweaty tango. You were too lost in pleasure to even answer his question. Jaw hanging slack, more moans spilled from your mouth while your mind went blank.

“Answer me.” He shoved himself even deeper into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix as you cried out, tears brimming your eyes “No! It wasn’t-” A satisfied smirk made its way to Sylus’s face knowing that only he could get you like this.  Absolutely needy and desperate for him, too sex dazed to think about anything else besides the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you. 

“Letting that disgusting man near you like that..and flirting with him,” He leaned down, his pace unrelenting. Whispering in your ear “It was on purpose wasn’t it?” You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed teasing Sylus, but had you known you’d be punished like this tonight, you might have reevaluated your decision.

You never thought Sylus to be the jealous type, yet here he was, plowing into you with such vigor and possession, ridding your brain of any of the occurrences from earlier that night, only able to think of him and the way he ravished your body.

“Wasn’t..on purpose, hah-” you moaned out, feeling yourself nearing your peak. Sylus took note, accustomed to every little change that happened within your body. “Liar.” He felt the slight twitch of your walls around him. He picked up the pace, pounding into you deliciously, the restriction of your cunt, wrapping him like a vice, enticing his own release, but he wasn’t ready to let go, not yet.

“Sylus!” You scream out, feeling yourself nearly coming undone. Like the evil bastard he was, he slowed down before coming to a complete stop, watching your worm in frustration, chasing your fading climax before huffing out. “Why?!” your hips chased his own as he pulled away slightly, still attempting to seek out your release.

“Because teases don’t get what they want.” He  retorted now, turning you on your back. You were now staring into his eyes, dark and clouded with lust. The look on his face only making you want to submit to him, his power something that you could never challenge, even if you wanted to. “Sy-aahhh.”

Your attempt to call out his name was swiftly disrupted by him sliding back into your slick, sensitive walls, Pushing your thighs up, knees almost at your head. You clenched tightly around him, feeling as if you’d come undone right then and there. “Sylus, please-please let m-”

He put a finger to your lips, hushing you one more time. “You’re going to be a good girl and take what I give you.” He’s now grabbing your tied up wrist, pulling you onto his cock as he grits his teeth. “And don’t you dare cum until I let you.” You whimpered at his request, but what could you do besides hold of the best you could.

You didn’t notice it at first, but when you finally opened your eyes fully, the air left your lungs at the sight before you. “Sy, when did you-ah~have-“ he quickly interrupted you, still thrusting in and out of you. “Had it installed..while we were out..”he groaned. Your heart beats fast out of your chest staring at the reflection.

If you didn’t have a thing for mirrors before, you definitely did now. Eyes trained on the mirror in the ceiling, watching  his back muscles tense and flex as he plowed into you. You wanted so desperately to wrap your arms around him and claw his back but you can’t.

Oh how you’d love to see his skin littered with scratch marks. Especially from this view, red marks against his pale skin would be such an enticing sight. The thought of it making you clench even harder around him. 

“S-Sylus. Hands. Please?” Mewling out, hoping he pities your desperate cries. Grunting, he shakes his head, hips still thrusting mercilessly. “Not…yet..kitten.” You clenched around him harder, listening to the skin slap and seeing his reflection in the mirror above.

Sylus was attuned to the little changes in your body, how whiny you’ve become, gaze fixed past his head, feeling you constrict around him tighter than before “You like it?” He asked, beginning to smirk. All you could do was nod your head yes as his pace was relentless.

He continued thrusting vigorously into you, the feeling of pleasure running hot in your veins as you let out the most satisfied moan. Sylus watched, moans spilling out uncontrollably whilst your mind got clouded with pleasure, watching you get lost in the feeling of his cock driving deep into you and whatever fantasy has you so dazed.

Watching you so lost in pleasure began to make his own desire rise as his thrusts became more forceful and intentful. Not sure how much longer he could last, he tugged your bound wrists harder, slipping his other hand down to where the two of you were joined, thumbing your clit, rubbing it in circles.

Your body began to convulse and twitch uncontrollably, your moans only getting louder and higher in pitch as your legs began to tremble. You looked into his deep crimson eyes, tears brimming your own as you silently begged for him to let you finish, unable to say much besides babble incoherently.

His thrusts became more erratic as he chased his own climax, feeling your gummy walls starting to restrict around him once more. Pounding into you mercilessly, glancing up at the mirror near the bed, he watched how your body squirmed and writhed against his steel strong grip.

Unable to hold off much longer, Sylus bends down and whispers into your ear, urging you to cum for him. “Mm-be a good girl for me, Kitten. Cum for me.” he chanted over and over into your ear, his mind starting to go blank from the pleasure as his climax approached, hips moving faster and sloppier.

You couldn’t hold yourself any longer. Letting go, you finally hit your climax, cumming hard whilst your body trembled and your eyes rolled back, tears staining your cheeks and spit dribbling down the side of your mouth. “Sylus!~” You moaned his name one final time before your body went limp.

Hearing you moan his name like that was something he couldn’t resist, his hips moving quickly and erratically as his own orgasm teetered on the edge. It took one last involuntary squeeze from your pussy for him to spill his load inside you. Groaning and moaning as his hips jerked, shoving his seed deeper into you, while he pulled on your restraints, pulling you further onto his cock, before collapsing on top of you.

The two of you lay there, panting, breathless, and absolutely fucked out. Bodies quivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm as you open your mouth to speak. Your throat was dry and your voice was hoarse. “You were that jealous huh?” Sylus rolled his eyes at your question.

Pulling out slowly, hissing at the way your walls clenched around him, almost as if inviting him back in. He undid the tie cuffs he had made before picking you up and heading to the bathroom.

“Shut up..” he scoffed as a smile creeped onto his face. 

[feverdreamsandlucidnightmares]

I’m so happy for Andrew and the fact that he likes driving but I can confirm as someone his height that he can’t see over the dash. Road safety is entirely an estimation. It’s set in 2006, most cars didn’t have a backup camera or sensors or shit and he can’t fucking see. As if Andrew would ever strain to look around while driving. He has absolutely insane spatial awareness just so he can carpool his family.

(Going off of @strongqueercharacters post about Andrew’s car: the Lexus GS is longer than a Honda CRV. The Maserati is longer and wider than both.)

[jjsfavgirl]

Calm down party girl

JJ Maybank x partygirl!reader

Summary: JJ taking care of his girlfriend after a long night of partying.

I’m going to a party on Saturday and couldn’t stop picturing this hope you enjoy! :)

Warnings:alcohol, underage drinking, nudity, suggestive content( just reader being a horny drunk)

Part 1 Part 2

-

“Jay! Jay! Did you get my drink?” I smiled, stumbling into my blonde boyfriend as he caught me by my elbows and stabilising me. Chuckling at my drunken state, he knew that now was the time to cut off my tab and send me home.

“Calm down party girl.” He began, pulling my closer to him as to avoid shouting over the noise of drunk teens and the 2000s mix blasting over the stereo as cheers filled the room. “Let’s get you home, princess.” He smiled at me.

“Nooo.” I groaned, pouting out my bottom lip, praying it would convince him to let me stay.

“You can’t even stand without falling over, hun.” He chuckled.

“But-“ I began speaking.

“Nuh uh. No buts let’s go.” He spoke, not hesitating to take his hands off my arms and scoop me up bridal style, his arms setting under my neck and legs like they were sculpted for his touch.

Not wanting to argue with him, I allowed him to carry me to the porch of the house. As he set me down on the wood, my heels clicked and my head spun from the sudden position change.

“Can you make it to the car?” He quizzed, taking my pink purse off my shoulder and stuff both our phones into his pocket as he fished out the keys to the Twinkie.

“Yep.” I giggled, my drunken state driving my emotions hire wire.

Shuffling my way through the car park, my eyes glowing up at my handsome boyfriend who was looking back every so often to make sure I was still following him.

He smiled at me brightly, interlocking our hands together and helping guide me as he spotted the Twinkie behind a black Maserati.

My bottom lip poured out once more as the pain of my pink heels dug deeper into my ankles, my feet dragging even more.

JJ took notice to my struggle and immediately stopped walking to check on me.

“Put one foot on mine so you can take of your heel.” He ordered, knowing exactly what was hurting me.

We had both seen this before, partying every weekend then ending in me getting a foot massage from JJ after wearing my iconic pink heels that were one size too small for the long hours of the night.

“No, I’ll hurt you.” I spoke, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes.

“I don’t care, you’re in enough pain as it is.” He said.

I obliged with him, doing as he said and placing my skinny heel on his foot as I removed my right heel then did the same with my left.

Groaning slightly as my bare feet tingled from the cold, sharp gravel beneath them, JJ turned around, placing both hands behind his back and motioning for me to hop on.

“I’m not a little kid jay.” I laughed at his movements, placing my hands on his shoulders as I hopped on.

“What ever do you mean? This is a very serious piggy back.” He chuckled, turning his head slightly to flash his pearly white while both his hands linked under my calves once more.

He carefully placed me down in the passenger seat of the Twinkie, tucking my legs under the dash as he placed my pink heels in my lap.

Joining me in the car, he started up the engine and we headed back to the Château.

-

Arriving at the Château, we spotted John B and Sarah laying with legs intertwined on the hammock outside.

“I swear she went out yesterday?” John B laughed, noticing my skimpy clothes and drunken state.

“You are one crazy lady y/n” Sarah laughed.

“You know it!” I cheered, throwing my hands in the hair as my strapped heels swinged around my bracelet covered wrists.

“Come on, party girl, let’s get to bed.” JJ ushered me inside the Château, guiding me by my bare waist.

I giggled, turning around to my boyfriend and placing a sloppy kiss on his lips then trailing them down to his tan neck.

“Nuh uh.” JJ pulled my wrists away from his chest, forcing my lips to retract from his body.

“Whyyy.” I groaned, pouting like a spoilt little kid once again.

“Bedtime.” He smiled, spinning me back around and leading me into the spare bedroom we called our own.

Plopping myself down onto the bed, savouring the smell of JJ (weed, sweat and cheep booze) JJ searched through his drawers and pulled out a baggy shirt of his and black biker shorts of mine.

“Arms up.” He spoke as he approached me, fingers motioning me to put my arms up.

A bright smile covering my whole face from eyes to mouth, I obliged as my arms swung in the air and JJ began to strip off my small “shirt”.

He did the same action with the mini skirt I had on, immediately sliding on my shorts and carefully shimmying his shirt over my long locks.

We both lay down together, his arms immediately wrapping around my frame as I played with our matching bracelets which lay so perfectly on his tan wrist.

“Did you have fun tonight?” He smiled down at me, his smile growing even wider than what seemed possible as I grinned up at the surfer.

“Yeah, I broke the record for most shots taken.” I smirked back, very proud of my accomplishment.

“That’s my girl.” He laughed heartily, placing a warm kiss on my forehead.

[carelessflower]

On Testing and Qualifying Magnus Lightwood-Bane's Sugar Daddy Behaviors - An Analysis

Multiple arguments have been made against the current High Warlock of Brooklyn, superficially regarding whether this gentleman's reputation as the current Consul of the Clave's sugar daddy is underappreciated or exaggerated. This study aims to dissect the argument with the support of textual evidence throughout the couple's appearances in the series

Paying for their first date

Taking care of the bill like a gentleman. From this instance, one can assume he takes his gentlemanly courting ritual very seriously, as he also reached for the meal cheques in other occassions

Conjuring and pelping to pick fine clothes for Alec

On their famous Europe vacation, it is shown Magnus has a habit of magicking tuxedoes, suits, and well-made sweaters for Alec. Now, if he could upgrade that GAP scarf to a Burberry one, it would be much appreciated

Gentleman behavior

Even though his boyfriend is supernaturally strong with biceps to bite for days and hunts bloodthirsty demons for a living, Magnus would still rather pay someone to carry the heavy luggage than his darling

Luxurious accommodation only

There has been a previously published study on the expenses for all these places here, so this article will be repeating the same key points:

one night at Istanbul Grand Suite on the Orient Express: $26,000

suite in Belmond Hotel Cipriani: $1,056

suite in Palazzo Manfredi, Rome: $729

It is understandably relatable when one pulls Alec Lightwood and wants to do everything in their power to woo him. For Magnus, it apparently includes never letting Alec stay in any place less than five stars

Letting Alec drive the Maserati

It costs around $10,860 to rent a red Maserati 3500 GT Vignale Spider for one day. Therefore, it speaks volumes to Magnus's affection for his boyfriend that Alec almost crashes them and the expensive car off a cliff is just a "tiny accident". It is also very likely he buys this type of car later, seeing his husband's fascination with them

Living together in Brooklyn

Months into the relationship Alec has already possessed a literal key to Magnus's home and proceeds to move in after weeks of getting back together. For other poor souls who are looking for a 3-bedroom brownstone in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, the rent would be estimated at around $5000 per month. For the Consul, it certainly would involve a different type of payment method

Alec's magically money-full pocket

The consul carrying energy bars in his duffle bag instead of using the 15000$ in his pocket guarantees the funniest mental images one could possibly imagine

Enchanting Izzy's whip for Alec's birthday

Knowing Alec's top wish is to keep his family safe, Magnus chooses to tip his boyfriend's sister's whip in a prized potion to help her on the battlefield. Loving someone to the point you want to protect what else they love

Assisting shadowhunter without payment

This element may prove to be the strongest supporter of Magnus's claim as THE sugar daddy of the shadowhunter chronicles universe title, seeing how he used to overcharge shadowhunter on their business (deservingly so), and now he is willing to do all kinds of crazy shenanigans without an ounce of money. Whoever's in charge of the Clave's budget better send Alec the biggest, freshest, most expensive fruit basket

Final note

In conclusion, this research paper does not provide a definitive answer to the argument but encourages readers to draw their own perspectives. Nevertheless, it is a great possibility that in his report, the consul stated he used 10-20 dollars each week while he was traveling across the world, going to Japan when he craved sushi and staying in the finest places, all thanks to his generous husband

tag list: @magnus-the-maqnificent @literallytypogod @hoezier-than-thou @sociallyineptbibliophile @queenlilith43

@khaleesiofalicante @wandererbyheart @raziyekroos @onetimetwotimesthreetimess @alexandergideonslightwood @andrwminward

@noah-herondale-lightwood @elettralightwood @dustandducks @deliciousdetectivestranger @delightfullyterrible

@letsgofortacos

@kita-no @thelightofthebane @secrettryst @goldendreams3 @cityofdownwardspirals

@stupidfuckindinosaur

@i-have-not-slept @rinadragomir @potato-jem @kasper-tag @cam-ryt

@banesapothecary

[f1byjessie]

IN FAIR VERONA ━━ CL16.

things are hard when you're the only female in a male-dominated space, and the newest driver for the newest team knows this best.

( charles leclerc x driver!schumacher!reader )

━━ part two.

The car ride to the hotel is silent and subdued. Earlier that morning, the journey to the circuit had been buzzing with nervous anticipation━ the type of fidgety excitement that only comes from knowing you’ll be speeding through a straight and whipping around corners imminently━ but the atmosphere now lacks that euphoric enthusiasm and has settled somewhere between weary resignation and fatigued disappointment.

The car… is certainly a car. It isn’t bad, in the sense that it doesn’t seem to face the same struggles that other teams like Haas and AlphaTauri appear to be dealing with, but it fought you every step of the way throughout your session. The battle for dominance had felt more like you were trying to wrangle control of a wild stallion and less like you were attempting to navigate an understeering nightmare of a vehicle. With the added difficulty of now needing to anticipate every new challenge it could throw your way, driving it had left you feeling just as drained mentally as it had physically.

By the time you’d crawled out from the cockpit, you’d been teeming with frustration and your body had coiled taut from the forced hyperfocus necessary to keep you from spinning off into the gravel at every turn.

Mick hadn’t fared any better. Your brother reported the same resistance following his own session later in the afternoon. He’d been red in the face both from the heat of the Bahrain sun and annoyance at the car’s less-than-ideal performance, and his voice had sounded clipped like he was trying his hardest to bite back the less polite opinions he had on how things had gone. He’d ended things by tossing his helmet into the arms of his frazzled trainer and storming back into the garage in a huff, and it’s plain to see that the irritation still lingers.

He sits beside you in the backseat now, his arms crossed over his chest and his glaring eyes pinned to the sprawling landscape passing by just outside the window. If looks could kill, you imagine whatever’s out in the desert between the track and your hotel would be a good six feet under.

Similarly, the stress of the morning still clings to you even now, hours later. No matter how far you press yourself into the seat, your shoulders feel tight with a soreness you haven’t felt in a long time and despite kneading at the muscles and tendons in your hands since the early afternoon, your fingers still ache from the force of your grip on the wheel.

Your trainer, Sofia, had done what she could to try and alleviate the discomfort while your brother had driven, but you’re halfway certain that the tension is all a psychosomatic manifestation of your apprehension towards the car and the precious little time you have left to get it race-ready. It would explain the mirroring throb of dull pain beginning to rear its ugly head in your temples.

Your mind wars with itself, torn between trying to forget about today and stubbornly focusing on what new struggles you’ll be forced to deal with all over again tomorrow. Just the thought of another morning full of the same straining attempts to grapple control feels like your own personal Hell on Earth. The only thing that keeps back the slew of curses on the tip of your tongue is you closing your eyes and imagining sinking into a hot bath when you get to your room.

It is, of course, never that easy.

When you get to the hotel, you bid a half-hearted good night to the Maserati team members who endured the exhausting ride back from the track with you and then you and your brother make your way inside.

The lobby is quiet. There’s an attendant at the front desk who seems more interested in whatever’s on her computer than the two of you, and a man having a hushed conversation on the phone off in the far corner by the bar, but you only spare each of them a cursory glance before you’re stepping into the elevator with Mick just a half step behind you.

The ride up to the fourth floor is silent, save for the mechanical hum of the elevator and the soft ring of the bell as you pass by each floor.

Mick, despite the furrow of his brows and clench of his jaw betraying the anger he can’t yet seem to rid himself of, reaches out and pulls you into a reluctant hug before he steps off.

When the doors close, it’s just you.

The peace lasts for a few fleeting moments as the elevator climbs higher up the building. You pass the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh floor, and only as the digital display flashes to eight do the doors open and━

Charles Leclerc, Ferrari’s golden boy and the fated “il Predestinato,” stands just outside the door to your room.

Seeing him crushes any hope you had of a potentially peaceful rest of your evening.

He lifts his gaze from his phone screen as the elevator chimes, and the smile that stretches across his lips is as dazzling as it is infuriating. A small part of you wants to smile back as was habit for so long, and the other half wants to scowl and demand to know what he thinks he’s doing waiting for you outside your door. He looks comfortable, like he’s already ready for bed, and you’re not sure if that makes it better or worse.

At the very least, you know better than to assume it’s a coincidence that he chose to wear the hoodie you gifted him for his twentieth birthday all those years ago. He wants something from you, it’s obvious, you just don’t know what.

You mentally kiss your hot bath goodbye.

“Leclerc,” you greet, stepping out from the elevator before the doors can close on you. You say his name not unkindly, but there’s an edge to your voice that you secretly hope he picks up on.

“Schumacher,” he greets back, smug at your exasperation.

You and Charles have a… track record, of sorts.

He was your first in many things. Your first kiss, in the parking lot outside Prema’s factory, early in the morning on a random Tuesday. Your first boyfriend, a secret kept from your friends and your family and your fans, a secret just for the two of you. Your first time, a soft moment hidden away in your bedroom, with gentle touches and whispered words, with the glow of the moon through the gaps in the blinds as your only witness.

Your first heartbreak.

“Is there a reason you’re standing outside my door?” You ask him, slipping your bag off your shoulder and pulling the keycard from one of its pockets.

Charles hums, “Do I need a reason to see my friend?”

“No, but I wasn’t aware you considered me such a thing,” you quip back, feeling the irritation from earlier this morning rise to the surface again. “I thought I was, as you put it, ‘a distraction.’”

He, at least, has the decency to look chastised.

“Is it really fair to use the words of my twenty-year-old self against me?” When your door clicks open, he follows you in. “I have changed in many ways since then, as have you.”

He isn’t wrong, though it pains you to admit. You have changed in many ways since that fateful year you spent as teammates. You prefer tea to coffee now, and the songs that were your favorite back then have since been filtered out of your most frequently played playlists. You listen to audio books when you’re stuck on long flights instead of scrolling through the movies on your seat’s screen, and your perfume is scented differently. You don’t like chocolate fudge anymore, and the thought of summer nights in Italy fills you more with dread than any of the giddy excitement it did all that time ago.

You’ve seen similar changes in him.

Six years will do that to a person.

Though, it would seem six years still isn’t long enough to change what matters.

“Can you blame me?” You let your bag fall to the floor and step over it to reach for a bottle of water on the counter. “I don’t think I ever got an apology for that, either.” Quite frankly, you have half a mind to kick him out purely for his audacity— how could you possibly forget the single most shameful night of your life? And how could he possibly think that you’d just forget it all when he hasn’t acknowledged the hurt he’s caused even once in the six years he’s had to fix his mistakes?

The comments on Instagram, the forced friendliness for the cameras, and the politeness for the sake of PR is one thing. It’s easy to follow the motions— shake a hand, give a smile, stand here, go there, say something polite but impersonal, stick to the script and everything will be fine.

But there are no cameras here in the privacy of your hotel room. No cameras, no microphones, no witnesses to your performances. There’s no need to adhere to the script and yet you cling to it like it’s your only protection. Probably because it is.

He steps over your bag and walks further into your room like it’s his own. When he turns back to you, it’s only after he’s lowered himself down onto the couch in the corner, legs strew out before him, arms spread out across the back.

“Sorry,” he says with a lazy shrug.

You feel your eye twitch.

“You know, Charles,” you abandon the bottle, opting instead to squeeze your hands into fists so tight your knuckles turn white, “for someone who clearly wants something from me, you’re not doing a very good job of convincing me to help you.”

He heaves a sigh and overexageratedly rolls his eyes, but you can see beneath the facade he’s fronting. He’s acting like an asshole because he knows it’s what’s expected from him— it’s the role he’s chosen to play in your story now, and no matter how much he, or you, long to go back to how things were, that moment has long passed. He, and you, have no other choice but to continue to play your new parts dutifully.

“I—” he clears his throat, suddenly finding his hands to be far more interesting than anything else in the room. “I just wanted to say congratulations. For making it to F1. I know this has been your dream for a while, and if anyone deserves to have a seat here it is certainly you.”

“Thank you,” you answer after a moment, startled. His words are strange— off script. They’re the type of thing he would’ve said to you when you were teammates, not now when you’re barely more than aquaintances with a history.

He’s broken character, but as fast as the mask falls away it’s put back in place just as quickly and the Charles he used to be is once again locked away in the recesses of your shared memories. Despite the brief moment of something, it seems he, too, is just as desperate to cling to the normalcy and protection of the distance that now exists between you two. He nods and rises from the couch, brushing imaginary dust from his clothes.

When he passes you on his way out of the room, the sleeve of his hoodie brushes against your arm and there is a long suppressed part of you— a younger you, a you that’s still hopeful for what things could be, that sings at the memory of a softer, sweeter Charles— that wishes to reach out and ask him to stay. There is a part of you that wishes you could both drop the act for an hour, just an hour, and humor the longing of your heart if only for a little while.

The truth is, it’s safer to pretend that the love you felt for Charles— still feel for Charles— grew over time.

You can so easily imagine it as a slow process— a fledgling crush developing into something more throughout your season spent together as teammates. It’s built up brick by brick, solidified into something seemingly tangible with every post-race moment shared in the privacy of your own little world. Each adrenaline-crazed smile shone your way, each sweaty arm thrown around you in celebration, each glance that lingers for a moment too long on your lips to be purely innocent.

It’s easy to fantasize about the back-and-forth dance it becomes. The touches that stray a bit longer than they need to and the touches that are entirely unnecessary to begin with, passed off as an accidental brush of fingers or a clumsy bump of shoulders. The looks secretly and silently shared across a tittering crowd none the wiser, a sparkling gaze that speaks louder than the raucous celebrations, meant for two people and two people only. The endearingly inelegant attempts at flirting, with stuttered and stumbled words and cheeks flushed too pink to pass off as anything other than embarrassment.

The reality is much more simple.

You fell in love with Charles Leclerc when you shook his hand across the table in a random conference room and introduced yourself as his teammate, and you’ve continued to fall in love with him again every day for the last six years. Despite, or rather in spite, of everything that’s changed.

But the opportunity to ask him is gone, the moment’s already passed. He stands at the door, hand on the handle. All that remains is the lingering scent of his cologne.

It’s different than the one he wore six years ago.

“For what it’s worth,” he starts, pushing the door open, “I am sorry. For what I said.”

You nod. You don’t know what else to do. And then he’s gone.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @casperlikej @awritingtree @bwormie @samantha-chicago @miyo-0oo @lighttsoutlewis @itsjustkhaos @lovecarsgoingvroom @mess-is-my-aesthetic @almostjollypizza @sugyomama @butterfly-lover @lightdragonrayne @loloekie @meadhbhcavanagh @spideybv28 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @nebarious @peqch-pie @woozarts @spilled-coffee-cup @moonyseyelash @pausmoon @cherry-piee @nataliambc @1655clean @evie-119 @ironmaiden1313 @charlesgirl16 @shoularium @sarah-thatstings-ann @theblueblub @formulanni @awritingtree @taytaylala12 @emryb @the-navistar-carol (CLOSED)

━━ a/n: okay, wow! er, surprise? it's certainly been a minute, and for that i sincerely apologize. for the sake of keeping this author's note shorter than the actual story itself, i'll spare you all the reason for why i've been gone, but i am seriously so in awe of how much support the first part of this series got. i had no idea that so many people would be invested in seeing this continued, so i am so incredibly sorry that it took me so long to finally get around to posting the second part. i am hoping that this lives up to everyone's expectations! please forgive any mistakes, i was rushing a bit to get this ready to be posted as soon as i possibly could that i didn't really take the time to edit or check for any grammar or spelling issues.

[allforthegaymes]

Neil loves everything about Andrew.

He doesnt care when Allison teases him about it, saying thats what everyone says when theyre in a relationship.

He loves when theyre kissing and Andrew always pauses to smile against his lips. When he snorts at Neil when he dives back in to continue.

He loves the glimpse of Andrews chipped canine tooth from a snow sledding accident. Nicky had been driving the Maserati, Andrew dragging behind it on a sled as they coasted through the parking lot, slick with ice. Before the sled hit a curb hidden by the snow and he’d gotten tossed into a tree.

He loves the way Andrew glares, half pouting, drunkenly at him when he stands in the Columbia kitchen cutting marshmallows up to try and mimic the mini marshmallows Andrew insists on having in his cocoa.

He loves the way Andrew stands in some supermarkets clothing department trying to decide if paying $20 is worth having the pack of spiderman boxers. He loves the way Andrew washes them the second they get home and groans as he rips at least two seams on them after they shrink outrageously small after the wash. He loves the way Andrew stubbornly refuses to stop wearing them anyways.

Neil loves how Andrew leans over the counter in the bathroom, dragging beard dye over his eyebrows to tint them a shade so they can actually be seen. He loves the way Andrews head tilts back with an annoyed groan when they come out too dark and Aaron takes at least 20 pictures of him with dark bushy eyebrows. He loves the way Andrew lets him drag him to the girls dorm so Allison can give him an evil grin and fix them.

He loves the way Andrew refuses to let him light his own cigarettes. The first few times he’d lit his own Andrew would snag it from his mouth for himself, and light Neil a new one himself. Usually he just presses the tips of their cigarettes together, the lit cherry of his own lighting Neils. Or Neil will just pass his lighter over to Andrew, leaning forward with the cig held between his lips, wobbling slightly from the way hes trying to squash a smile.

He loves the way Andrew has no opinions when it comes to which video game they all play on tuesday and thursday game nights, but is the loudest at insisting which movie plays on friday movie night, arguing with everyone that they have to do the hat method for picking one and insists everyone else is teaming up on him when his doesnt get picked. He loves the way Andrew refuses to let Neil copy his movie choice onto his own piece of paper, even if itd give his choice better odds of being picked out of the hat.

He loves the way Andrew groans and grumbles when theres a heat wave and tells Neil he runs like a furnace, but stays firmly wrapped around Neils back anyways as the fan points directly at them in bed. The connected skin between them slick with sweat that makes Kevin complain about the smell in the room until Andrew points at Kevins stinky gym bag in the corner.

He loves the way Andrew asks him ‘yes or no’ whenever theyre about to do something new. Loves the way ‘yes or no’ slowly evolves into different situations. Texted to him from across a sports gala once theyre pro to ask Neil if he wants to ditch it with him early. Mumbled against his neck when he shows Neil the transfer request to move back onto the same pro team together.

He loves the way Andrew understands when Neil says no, that he wants to finish up talking to a few more coaches around the gala first. When Andrew asks him if he wants to try a new steakhouse and Neil would rather get Thai from down the road and sit in the Mas instead.

[beneaththehalo]

love and deepspace car headcanons

sfw ramblings about which cars i think all of the l&ds guys would drive. i don’t know much about cars, so this is entirely based on personality & aesthetic. the car is pictured below the description. 300 words. contains: rafayel, xavier, zayne, caleb & sylus.

rafayel — maserati

it’s been said he drives a fancy sports car and is referenced several times throughout the game. the logo of maserati is a trident, which i imagine stuck out to him right away when he was car shopping. he was never one for material items, and he’ll pretend to brush it off when you show interest despite how proud it makes him feel. no wonder he always offers to drive.

xavier — honda suv

out of everyone, he rarely ever uses a car. with his teleportation ability, it’s likely just a silly expense so i imagine he bought one to keep up appearances but just lets Jeremiah borrow it. he took the first one off the lot and got conned into all the upgrade features. however, since he’s been on earth awhile, i think as a passion project, he secretly has an old classic car that he tinkers with now and then.

zayne — audi

cardiologists are notorious for having luxury cars due to their impressive salaries, especially a cardiothoracic surgeon. i like to think zayne keeps it more on the humble side of ‘luxury’ cars and chose an audi. the audi has consistently received high safety ratings, so on top of looking good, it’s also an overall good car.

caleb — mustang + yamaha motorcycle

in the warm months, caleb rides a motorcycle. he loves the adrenaline rush of the wind flying past him. if you ever take him up for a ride, he’ll keep you safe despite laughing at your tight grip to his jacket. in the colder months, he drives a mustang to the airfield since he can’t take his motorcycle.

sylus — rolls royce

something about a mafia boss and a rolls royce. rolls royce screams quintessential antagonist in a storyline. they are sleek, luxurious, spacious, and private. perfect for doing shady business in the back seat, take that as you will.

beneaththehalo || est. 2024

divider credit: saradika-graphics

[staranghae]

it wasn't your car...

summary : his car isn't yours by wendy. that's the summary. here, go listen to it.

pairing: l.sm x reader genre: exes to lovers warnings: chan slander (im sorry), mentions of making out(?), mention of drinking/drunk people, crying *i think that's about it but if i missed any pls let me know* word count: 800+

that's all lee seokmin was supposed to be. a summer fling.

but instead, the last few days of your vacation were possibly the worst days of your whole life. days that were supposed to spent lounging with him in the pool were spent fighting about your relationship.

it started when he admitted he was in love with you. you weren't ready for something serious then and you said the same to him to which he said he would wait for you. you frankly thought it was ridiculous that he had fallen for you in the span of a month. no one can love someone within a month of knowing them. or can they?

which brings you to now, standing in front of the open door of the passenger seat of your date's black maserati.

the same car you had spent a month driving around and making out in.

the same car that had pulled up to your vacation house every friday at 8pm on the dot to take you on a date.

the same car in which you're about to go on a blind date in now, just to forget about him. because, contrary to your beleifs, it is possible to fall in love with someone within a month. like how you had fallen for seokmin.

you're shaken out of your trance by your date's voice,

"y/n-ssi, are you getting in?"

by the time you look at him, he's standing near the driver's door, waiting for you to get in,

"we'll be late for our reservation if we don't leave right now so..."

you look at him one last time before getting in and willing yourself to forget about butterfly kisses in late afternoons and the enigma that is lee seokmin.

you get through the dinner with little effort. you date, whose name you learn is lee chan, cannot stop talking for the life of him. you're glad for it though, because it means you can zone out and daydream about what could have been with seokmin. eventually, the dinner ends. he pays like the gentleman he is and offers to drive back since it's quite late.

you check the time. 1am. you say yes to the offer despite not wanting to but trying to get a cab would be worse that listening to someone talk about how good of a dancer they are for the umpteenth time in the past hour.

you get home around an hour later and are shell-shocked at the sight in front of you.

lee seokmin, sitting (well, sleeping) on your front porch, with a huge bouquet of carnations and violets in his hand and a letter in the other.

you turn to chan. he looks at you concerned and offers to walk you in, mistaking seokmin for a drunk person who just got the wrong house.

you tell him that it won't be a problem and manage to get him out of your hair before he tries asking about a second date.

you walk up to him and shake him awake. he blinks a few times before turning to look at you. it's almost magnetic, how he reaches out to cup your cheek in the palm of his hand. he pulls back before he actually touches you, though, scared you might run away again.

he stands up and clears his throat before he starts talking, "i know you don't want anything to do with me but i-"

you cut him off before he can finish, "that's not true, minnie..."

minnie. a nickname you got accustomed to in the course of your relationship. a nickname you had tried so hard to forget over the course of the past few days. a nickname that came to you as easily as breathing.

he blinks at you, a little confused. "what do you mean?"

you have to look away from him before you speak, in fear that you may start crying if you had to maintain eye contact with him,

"i mean, i do want something with you. with us."

seokmin breaks first. sobbing his heart out as he stands up to engulf you in a hug. you've hug him back with silent tears streaming down your face.

he pulls away after a few minutes, eyes rimmed red and looks at you. like, really looks at you. the way your features are aligned perfectly on you, the way you're quite literally tailor made for him, and him for you. he also notices you actively trying to avoid meeting his eyes

he simply chuckles at your behaviour, before talking,

"what am i going to do with you?"

you finally find the courage to look up at him,

"you, lee seokmin, are going to be my boyfriend"

seokmin swears he sees a halo on your head. you laugh at him because of course he would say something that corny with a straight face.

yeah, you'll be alright.

a/n: someone teach me how to end fics, please and thanks :) also, look whose free from the prison of writer's block heh

staranghae.writing®

[blueslostboys]

thinking about how all of neil's IDs are fake because of his fake names and then the FBI issues him a new set of IDs with the name neil josten, including a driver's license. but neil certainly never took a driver's test. and probably learned how to drive from his mom. he must be an absolute menace in the driver's seat. to me this makes it even funnier that when neil bought andrew the maserati, andrew kicked nicky off the insurance (even though nicky is the oldest and most experienced driver) and added neil, who probably drives like he's running for his life

[misc-obeyme]

Back on my human au ideas...

ETA: because I only talked about it in the tags, but Asmo is a therapist in this au with a specialty in lgbtq+ issues.

More about Asmo, I think he's still obsessed with clothes & makeup, is a social media abuser, & tries to get Satan to wear something other than professor jackets with elbow patches. He's mildly TikTok famous for posting high quality videos of him doing amazing drag looks and makeup tutorials.

He often tries to join Beel for workouts on the farm, but doesn’t have Beel’s stamina & gets tired halfway through. Makes them both protein shakes. Helps out at the farmer’s market.

Mammon is a mechanic. He has to be because that's a human au situation I've always loved for him. Like yeah, he could own a casino and all that, but I want to focus on something a little different for him. And I love the idea of him being a mechanic who owns his own car repair garage, but it specializes in super expensive cars. Like all your Porsches and Maseratis and so on. And of course he has a couple of his own that he drives around. He likes to drive out to Beel's and he'll take any of his brothers for a spin if they want.

Regularly picks up Asmo from various places in customer's cars just because it makes him feel special.

He probably does a little illegal street racing, just because this is Mammon we're talking about.

He's in on Satan's rare bookseller connections. Turns out he's really good at finding such rarities, too, so when he does, they sell them together. That's if Satan can even manage to part with whatever Mammon finds lol.

Beel won't let Mammon into the corn fields, though. Man attracts too many crows for some reason. When they first discover this, Mammon feels so bad about it that he spends several days building Beel multiple scarecrows. They're still scattered through Beel's fields.

Mammon will also take Belphie for midnight drives out to places that have good views of certain celestial bodies. He loves to drive and he loves to see his little brothers doing what they love, so it's a win-win.

And of course, Mammon still does modeling occasionally. He won't do it full time because of the work involved, but if the price is right, he'll accept an offer or two.

One time Asmo gets really into making a marketing campaign for Mammon's garage which involved Mammon modeling with various expensive cars. Most of the pictures were a little too risque to use lol.

[bruciemilf]

Got anything for fem!Bruce & Uncle Ozzy?

I love the image of tiny Bryce just. Observing the people around her. Building connections and relationships with particular, precise details that paint abstract memories for her.

She remembers how funny her dad and uncle Ozzy sounded; The spicy rush of their accents, how every word was pronounced with laughter in them,

“Look atcha fatha puttin’ oregano in the bolognese sauce like a fuckin’ animal,— never do that, alright? It’s a sin”

“Stop scarin’ my baby girl, ya fuckin’ ice rat,”

“See, Mr. Doctorate over here don’t believe in hell, — but I seen it. Tastes like oregano.” Their laughter tasted like nicotine, — they didn’t smoke the same brand. Her dad made a point to only smoke light at Alfred’s request, but they never smoked around her

She remembers a potent scent of whiskey they drank over a poker table, where she’d sit on her mom’s knee. Martha always won, and Alfie always accused her of cheating

Her Russian accent would come through, soft but pronounced, “It is not cheating if I have my lucky charm” and she’d press a soft kiss on Bryce’s hair

Uncle Ozzy only smoked knock off vintage Cuban cigars and refused to get anything else. He said the fancy stuff were for tourists

After her parents go under the ground, he only eats pasta with oregano in it

She remembers his car; A classic Maserati, leathered with soft cushions. She’d drive her to and from school, putting her seatbelt on, and tell her stories,

“You listen to me, alright, — Alfred ever wants to ground you, or say he knew better at your age when you get in trouble, you call me, alright? I’ll refresh his memory. “

When she goes to boarding school, he’s there to take her. Bryce still remembers the heaviness of the ride, the way the road seemed to drag on and on. “Listen, slick,”

She still doesn’t know why he called her that; Her mom used to say it was because she was quick witted and always had a smart comment to make.

“Those little shits are gonna make you feel bad. They’ll say nasty, mean shit, cause they’re young, and they think it won’t last. But don’t let ‘em. If they go low, you go lower. Never let people feel like they can step all over ya. Okay?”

Her voice sounded little; Most 10 year olds did. “Okay. Can we get ice cream after you pick me up, uncle ozzy?”

He lied to her only once.

“Sure, kid. I got your back.”

When she’s an adult, she’s too burdened by Gotham, by Batman, by a cross she nailed herself to, to take notice of his absence. Bryce Wayne misses her uncle. Batman and Penguin don’t miss each other at all.

Deep down, she knows he knows.

When she drives him to Arkham, him in the passenger seat, she knows.

“Stop by the drive in, kid. I want an ice cream.”

Bryce says nothing. The ice cream is good.

[pablitogavii]

Friendly

Summary: You're Gavi's best childhood friend and you go tot he club with him and some of his friends. He made it clear that you are just his friend, but when he sees the attention you start receiving from everyone..his mind changes ;)

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Warnings: smutty ;))

"Ready, pecas?" Pablo was always using that nickname, since we were little niños, because he was always so intrigued by the freckles decorating the bridge of my nose to my cheeks. Anyways, he came to pick me up with his car and we were going out to a newly opened bar in town with a group of his friends.

"Mhm! Vale!" I got in and he certainly checked out my quite short black shorts and a crop top that showed my flat stomach. I always wondered weather he found me attractive but I gave up when I heard him say to his friends when they asked if I was his girl "Imposible! She is like mi hermanita tíos!" which always ruined my mood when I thought about it!

When we arrived, the loud group in front of the door greeted us and all of Pablo's friends (including the taken ones) complimented on my look tonight. I thought Pablo was too busy joking around with Pedri to notice, but little did I know, he heard every word that made him very much angry!

"Damn Gavi! Your amiga is quite a bombon!" Araujo whispered to him and Pablo looked towards you chatting with some girls at the bar shaking his head although secretly thinking the same thing.

Your ass looked so delicious in that tight shorts..and not to mention the braless crop top that was driving him absolutely crazy!

"Bombon? Tu eres loco tío! Ella es tan joven" Pablo said always acting 'tough' cause he was two years older that you..big deal! That didn't mean he could order you about which he always tried to do!

As hours passed, and you had more drinks with your girlfriends, music started to take over your body and you were dancing like there was no tomorrow.

"Es caliente!!" Rafa smirked whispering into Pablo's ear knowing that would annoy him especially when you were dancing with your ass glued to another guy who hand his arms around your waist.

"Joder!" Pablo groaned putting his drink down and walking towards you angrily. He grabbed your wrist pulling you away from the guy and he crowd all the way outside where was freezing btw.

"Ow! Que haces gilipollas!?" you were angry but still so cute when you tried to yell at him especially being so short and adorable regardless of your mood.

"You're drinking anything people give you! And you are grinding your ass against some fucking stranger!? What are you doing pecas!?" he was angry as well as he let go off your arm but still not letting you go back inside.

"Que es un problema!? You're not mi novio Gavi! I can drink what I want and I can dance with whoever I want!" you spat and now he was even angrier clenching his jaw repeatedly. He wishes he was your novio and could teach you a lesson right now..

"But I brought you here which means I am responsible to make sure you're safe pecas!" he said and to that you smirked feeling quite confident tonight (probably from the alcohol) as you moved closer to him rubbing up and down his strong biceps.

"Are you sure that's the problem here Pablito?" you said teasingly and he was fighting back an urge to throw you in the backset of his Maserati and show you just what his problem was at the moment. But then he reminded himself that you were his best friend, that he doesn't want to lose you and therefore couldn't mess up your life.

"Vamos, I'm taking you home.." he said but you were definitely not about to do that especially when you were having such a blast tonight. You pulled away from his grasp and he groaned in annoyance.

"If you don't want to honestly tell me what the problem is then I won't do what you say! Capullo!" you winked walked back inside while he groaned running his hand through his hair before getting inside himself re-joining his friends while you continued to dance on your own this time.

"Why don't you just admit you want her tío? Es obvio!" Pedri bugged him but when Pablo saw that you were kissing someone and walking outside with him the heat in his veins intensified from anger.

"Es demasiado tarde.." Pablo sighed walking out this time determined to take you home even if he was to carry you into the car himself. He was done with this party and he was especially done watching you with other people!

As he looked around for you, he found the same guy from the inside sitting on the hood of his car while you stood in between his legs kissing his lips.

"Gilipollas! Tienes tu culo en mi coche!" he said and the guy looked at him with big eyes of course recognizing him from the Camp Nou pitch while ungluing his hands from your waist.

"Pablo Gavi..I'm so sorry tío" he said walking away from you which made you angry as you looked at Pablo who watched as he left before finally looking back down at you.

"Stop scaring away everyone who comes near me!" you said and he walked closer until your thighs his his car and you sat on the hood looking up into his dark eyes once more. He was no longer your sweet and protective friend Pablo..no..he was angry..and lustful in this moment.

"Que haces?" you say when he slowly touched your thighs opening them up and standing in between them while tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"You said you wanted to know what my problem is..honestly?" he said moving even closer as his hands rested on my thighs and his nose was touching mine.

"S..si" your voice was shaking and your cheeks were bright red while looking into his dark eyes longingly.

"I don't mind you wearing something that makes your ass be the sole focus of the night..but I do mind that I can't grab it and make todos los gilipollas see that it's mine.." he started and you felt goosebumps appear on your skin while his cold fingers traced your thigh and his nose moved against yours.

"I don't mind your dirty dance but as long as it's against me.." he whispered into your ear licking it after wards and you couldn't help the moan that left your lips in response.

"And I don't mind that you want to make-out on top of my car..but I want you to do it only with me!" he whispered into your other ear licking it again before his large hand grabbed your neck and pulled you close kissing your lips feverishly which made you moan into his mouth as you kissed passionately.

"Pecas.." he whispered against your lips after pulling away and you smiled opening your eyes and snaking your arms around his neck while playing with the end of his hair.

"Take me home amor.." you smiled snaking your legs around his waist with a shy smile and he smirked kissing your lips again knowing that he finally got what he craved for such a long time...;))

I like this story :)

[jtl-fics]

TBD PRETTY PLEASE??

9/25/24 WIP Wednesday (Closed) | TBD AU

With that Aaron loads them up in the car after the police state that they’ll be checking in with them both later and the case number they could reference when Andrew calls in about his insurance. They drop Neil off and it sets Andrew’s teeth on edge to have him out of his sight but he sees how Smith’s family swarms around him anxiously and has no desire to be coddled like that. He’s coddled in an entirely different way when he gets home, forced to spend the night in Aaron and Katelyn’s guest room.

He gets up the next morning knowing that Neil will be at practice in the morning regardless of the stiffness he feels from the crash. He does have to spend about twenty minutes arguing with Aaron before his brother agrees to drive him to the long-term garage where he stored his college car.

“I never really thought the Ferrari suited you.” Aaron says idly as Andrew checks over the Maserati to make sure the tires were good despite the months of disuse.