#i don’t actually have anyone to speak about it to

[loves0phelia]

hi! I wanted to request a cute jj fic where they’re just being cute together and he’s overprotective (can you base it off an episode in the series?)

thanksss!

Risking

Summery: Moments JJ risked his life to protect you.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: near death experiences, grammar mistakes.

A/N: I'm like 100% sure this is not what you meant but this is what i came up with, thank you for requesting xxx (for anyone that requested i will do them all eventually, might just take time)

JJ was always protective of his friends no matter what, whether it was in a fight, an argument or just a small altercation, he was ready to protect. But with you, it was quite different. He wasn't just protective, he was ready to kill to assure your safety. He followed behind you wherever you went like a personal guard. He would do anything to shield you from any harm.

The first time you noticed just how much he was committed to your protection, was during the Kegger at the beach. You and him had begun dating a couple of months prior and it was the first beach party of the summer, where kooks, pogues and torons met to have a good time.

“Hey, y/n! How are you doing?” Your head turns when you hear the call of your name. You notice  Topper, Rafe, and Kelce approaching. Their presence quickly becomes hard to ignore. They are always looking for trouble, even when there is none.

“Oh, uhm I'm good Rafe, thank you for asking” You began looking around for the familiar head of blond hair you loved combing your fingers through but only failing.

“Looking for someone?” It was now topper's time to speak up.

“Actually yes, I'm looking for JJ-”

“Yeah I don't actually care, you want a drink?” Topper smirked, a glint of arrogance in his eye; it was in no way comforting. It was malicious.

“No thanks, I'm not drinking tonight…” You slowly start backing up feeling cornered by the trio.

“Relax, we’re just being friendly. Have a drink with us. Unless, of course, you’re too good for that. But you won't deny a free drink, right, pogue?” Topper pushed and almost shoved the red plastic Solo cup filled with beer that tasted like pee in your face.

“What the fuck is going on here” Sighing in relief, A weight was lifted off your shoulder when you heard his voice coming up behind you. You turned to see JJ striding over, eyes hard and jaw clenched. His gaze flicked from you to the three boys, warning in his stare.

“There you are, we were just offering your little bitch of a girlfriend a drink, isn't that right y/n?” Topper laughed, feigning innocence. 

JJ didn’t back down, his voice low but clear. “The fuck did you just call her?.”

Topper took a step closer, his grin mocking. “I called her a bitch. What are you gonna do about it, tough guy?” He laughed and earned a slap on the back from Rafe.

Before anyone could process what was happening, JJ's fist was swinging toward Topper landing a solid punch across his jaw.

The air was thick with tension, and you instinctively took a step back—until Rafe's hand caught your arm, gripping tight.

“Let go of me!” you snapped, trying to pull free.

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” Seeing you struggle, JJ’s face darkened

JJ lunged toward Rafe as Topper troubles to stand from the sand still winded from the hit he received. Then, In a second everyone at the party began circling the fight.

Both blond boys punched and kicked around earning cheers from the crowd surrounding.

“Stop!” John B and Pope push through and quickly pull JJ off the bloodied Rafe.

“Lay a hand on her again, and you’re dead. Got it!?” He screamed at his face before getting completely pulled off.

JJ’s demeanour softened as soon as He turned to you, “Hey, you alright?” he asked, gently brushing his fingers over the red handprint on your arm.

You let out a relieved breath, meeting his concerned gaze. “I’m fine, thank you,” you whispered, slowly raising your tippy toes to press a delicate kiss on his cheek.

His hand raised to your cheeks and pulled you into a proper kiss before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you away from everyone. He couldn't wait to lay in bed close to you.

the second time you noticed was when he was ready to take a bullet for you. You and your friend hadn't expected your summer to turn into a treasure-hunting adventure but here you were with a nugget of badly melted gold in your pocket on your way to a “warehouse”.

“Is there really a warehouse out here?” Your friend, Kiara asked, confused. The route you were on only had forest and maybe a couple of cabins nearby, no place where someone could be keeping 70k in cash.

“That's what she said, hehe that's what she said” JJ smirked and you from your spot on his lap slapped his thigh and gave him a warning but playful look.

‘Shut up” Pope said unimpressed which only made JJ's smile fall into a frown.

“Sorry baby,” You said and kissed the tip of his nose and his smile was back immediately. He had already forgotten his bad joke.

“Cops? out here?” Your little make-out session was interrupted by the flashing of the red and blue lights and siren.

“Hide the gold!” All the pogues panicked and tried acting as innocent as possible, but JJ only tightened his arms across your lower stomach holding you against him.

Barry appeared, his face hidden with a skull scarf, and in his hand was a shotgun. He raised it, pointing it directly at John B. in the driver's seat. You all froze, hearts pounding.

“Why don't you get out and raise those arms in the air” Barry sneered. “Right now!”

John B stepped out of the van, hands raised high in fear.

“Come everyone get out! Let's go”  Shaking you slowly got up from your place in JJ's lap and got out of the car.

“There you go pretty girl, hurry up!” He pointed the gun in your face, the barrel touching your forehead.

“Relax bro!” JJ jumped out after you and instinctively pushed you behind him. His face was dark with anger as he screamed. Your heart jumped in your throat when the gun shifted from you to him.

“Stay back bitch!” he shouted at JJ.

“Face down in the ditch, get down on your knees” He threatened with his gun and pushed down Pope's head as you all got down in the dirt.

After a short while, Barry went into the van and went looking for the gold but as he was searching John b got up and went into his car to ambush him.

Thankfully his plan worked and as soon as John B got the gun out of his hand you all rushed to help. JJ ran and punched him in the ribs, Kie punched his face, Sarah pulled the car door on his face twice and you kicked him as hard as you could where the sun dont't shine.

Barry spat, his anger mingled with a hint of fear now. “You’re dead for this. You hear me? All of you!” You all just took what he had stolen from you and left.

Later that night in bed pressed against JJ's stomach at the chateau you thought about the situation.

“You can't jump in front of me when there's a gun involved” You whispered and JJ's rubbing movement on your back stopped.

“the hell I can't” he scoffed.

“You're gonna get hurt badly if you keep protecting me.”

“It's my job to protect you, if something happens to you I will literally die, I can't live without you” His sentence made your head shoot up.

“You mean that?”

“You're the love of my life y/n, nothing matters more to me than you.” You carefully laid your head back down on his chest where you could hear his heartbeat and hugged him tight, almost wanting to crawl into his skin.

The third time you were out in open water, nowhere to turn, and adrenaline was coursing through your veins. Sarah had gotten kidnapped by her family and you and the rest of the pogues were on a mission to save her.

The boat pitched and swayed on the ocean. JJ and you stood side by side, backs pressed to the railing, as you faced off against Renfield, an employer of Ward Cameron. 

The man grinned wildly, holding a machete with a terrifying confidence, the blade shining menacingly in his hands. 

“JJ look out!” He lunged forward, machete raised, his eyes locked on JJ. Your heart leaped in fear, but JJ ducked, narrowly dodging the swing. The machete sliced through the air, missing by an inch.

Before he could make another move, you stepped in, launching a punch right into his nose throwing him off his balance. But he quickly got back up continuing the fight.

Before JJ could fully react, Renfield rushed forward, landing a brutal punch across his jaw. The force of the blow sent JJ stumbling backward, right up against the railing. Disoriented, he struggled to regain his balance.

His vision was blurry but he didn’t miss how The blunt end of the machete in the man's hand was making a beeline for your head.

“Y/N!” He lunged from the floor and pushed you out of the way. 

Your heart dropped to the bottom of your feet as you watched JJ topple backward receiving the hit that was initially meant for you, arms flailing as he plunged into the dark, icy water below.

“JJ!” you screamed, rushing to the side, your eyes frantically scanning the water for any sign of him. The boat rocked beneath you as you leaned over, the sound of your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

Without a second thought, you kicked the man and jumped in after your boyfriend.

“JJ!” You swam closer and closer until you reached his floating body, you held him and hugged him close to your body, elevating his face above the water.

“Please! John B.” You felt yourself sink further as you frantically moved your legs beneath you.

“Please, JJ I can't, I can't” You choked on the water filling your mouth.

As you sank several pairs of hands grabbed onto you and JJ pulled you onto a smaller boat when you realized your friends had saved you you rushed to JJ's side, begging, and shaking his shoulder attempting to bring him back.

“Please get up!” suddenly he began coughing up water and slowly opening his eyes.

“Oh my God” You sobbed and held his face gently with your hands.

“Sup” Everyone around you erupted in laughter and you laid your forehead on his chest giggling.   “Don’t… ever do that again,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

JJ chuckled weakly. “Can't promise anything”

You rolled your eyes, a smile breaking through despite the panic that still lingered. 

“I'm coming with you,” you argued.

“No you're not,” JJ said as he was putting his diving gear on.

“Yes, I am” You take the second wetsuit and start unzipping it.

“Hey, no” he takes it from your hands and puts it aside.

“Yes, JJ. I am going down with you whether you like it or not” Your tone hardens which took him aback, JJ rarely saw this bossy side of you, you were always soft-spoken and gentle or at least with him you were. 

After pulling on the suit and oxygen gear both you and JJ were ready to go down.

“Okay guys remember the safety stops, or else you get the bends” Pope warned and you both nodded.

The water was calm and clear. Underwater, everything was peaceful and quiet, the only sounds coming from the rhythmic hiss of your breathing through the scuba gear and the faint echo of distant waves above. It felt like a different isolated world.

He gestured to you, pointing toward a dark shape partially buried under a rocky overhang. You nodded, eyes bright under the goggles as you swam toward it, fins propelling you through the water. 

But before either of you could examine the wreckage further, a shadow passed over you, casting a sudden darkness across the sandy floor.

Just as you looked up, the unknown diver was on you. The stranger grabbed you by the shoulder, yanking you backward, forcing you to drop the small underwater flashlight you had been holding. 

“y/n!” JJ’s eyes widened as he took the spear he had brought down with him and stabbed the attacker without mercy. But that angered him. Quickly he turned and punched JJ, with his skills he swam quickly and locked JJ up in a room inside the wreck while he was disoriented, leaving you alone with the man.

“NO!” he yelled but it was muffled by the oxygen tube.

The stranger’s hands reached for you again, trying to get hold of your air tank, and when he did he cut off your oxygen supply. Your lungs burned instantly from the lack of oxygen and panic.    As soon as JJ managed his way out of the trap he was in, he shoved his regulator into your mouth, completely uncaring about his need for oxygen. He took your hand while you were taking desperate breaths and he kicked himself forward, rushing to the surface and escaping from the attacker.

As you broke through the water, you both gasped for breath and clung to each other, adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“Are you okay!” His hands reached for your face, and you only weakly nodded.

“Talk to me please, baby” 

“I'm okay” You swam closer to him and he held you without daring to let go until John B was near.

When you finally reached the safety of the boat you and your boyfriend sat close. You were still panting, your chest heaving but as you took another breath, you felt a sudden, sharp pain twist through your chest.

"Guys, are you okay?" Kiara asked, noticing the pained expression on your face.

You tried to respond, but winced, feeling an intense, stabbing ache radiate from your joints to his abdomen. Your head spun, and you suddenly felt nauseous as though your blood had turned to acid. Panic flashed in Pope's eyes as he watched you and his best friend struggle, the realization hitting him hard. 

"They have the bends, we need to get them to the hospital" Pope and Cleo slid their arms around JJ's back lifting him up and John B. and Sarah did the same to you. 

JJ panicked at the sudden disconnection between you too, You were so close now so far apart because of your friends separating you. 

“y/n” JJ moaned as pain shot through his side.

“We're getting you both to the hospital!” pope shouted. The ride felt like thousands of hours, the pain was unbearable. 

"Almost there, guys, just hold on," Sarah encouraged, as she tried making you both take deep breaths. 

The van rattled down the dirt road, jostling you and JJ in the back as you leaned against each other, pale and clammy, both fighting the building pressure in your heads and chests. 

“go, go, go” one of your friends screamed and tore the van door open pulling you out of the car. You struggled through the hospital door and in a second you were shoved into a small, cramped hyperbaric chamber that was barely big enough to fit one person, let alone two.

After a couple of minutes of groaning, heavy breathing and twitching you both cooled down shoulders pressed against one another, his breath shallow and quick, matching your own in the tightness of the space. His fingers slid into yours sneakily.

JJ glanced over, a spark of guilt in his eyes as he shifted uncomfortably now tracing his fingers on your face. “I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from all this” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You met his gaze, his face so close you could see every freckle on his sun-kissed skin. You swallowed, trying to ignore the way his hand brushed your cheek as he reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I'm glad you didn't,” you said. JJ’s hand lingered, his fingers warm against your skin, and you felt yourself leaning in, just slightly, as though pulled by a force.

“I'm glad you didn't because if you did I wouldn't be here with you ” you whispered, unable to look away.  Before you could stop yourself, you closed the gap, kissing him with a fierceness you didn’t know you had.

JJ’s lips met yours, soft and warm, and his hands found their way to your waist, pulling closer. The hum of the machine, the aching in your muscles, even the fear — all of it fell away, leaving only the two of you, tangled together in this moment.

“It’s the first and last time I ever let something happen to you, got it?” You grinned and rolled your eyes. You shifted, grabbed a pillow and quickly pushed it directly in front of the circular window before climbing on his lap pressing a deep kiss to his plumped pink lips.

Only the two of you know what happened in that chamber in the minutes that followed.

[ferg0s]

Barou starting a new relationship with a shy girl and how he would go about it

The literal personification of trying to mix oil with water

He was used to everyone looking at him in times of need on the field - he was the king after all - so he didn’t even notice how you would take a step back whenever it came time to ordering food, or any sort of public speaking and interactions.

He naturally took the lead, and you followed suit. Thanking the lord.

He honestly didn’t even notice how shy you were- he just kinda assumed you like hearing him talk. It wasn’t until he passed by an aisle of cute keychains and decided that he wanted to get you one when he realized… he kinda didn’t know anything about you.

I mean he did. He knew your name, your height…. The colour of your eyes…. And hair… and…

“So what do you do?” He asked bluntly as the two of you walked down a park, ice creams in hand. The one he ordered. “What?” “Hobbies? Sports? What do you do in your spare time?” He asked as he looked at you, determined to get an answer. “You know… the usual stuff-“ you awkwardly chuckle. “I don’t know actually.” He was a little shit about it.

But after literally interrogating you for an entire hour, he managed to squeeze out an answer from you. You were completely cornered by him, and you shyly tell him your hobbies. He looks dumbfounded, because to him those are completely normal and healthy hobbies for someone to have. He was starting to think you’re a grave robber by the way you were acting.

Knitting? He will get you the yarn, and parade a scarf you made for him and show all his teammates. Collecting something? He will always be on the lookout for what you like, even going as far as asking his teammates to be on the lookout as well. Video games? He will learn to play your favourite game with you. Cute farming sim? Silent hill? Niche indie game that only 3 people know about? You best bet he will ask for a 4 hour lore deep dive.

Very supportive.

Lwokey will get annoyed at your shyness at one point.

At first he thinks it’s cute, but he’s not the type of person to fully baby anyone, and will force you to order your own meal. He wants the best for you :(

Will say his order and look at you to say yours, watching you stumble on your words as you try to order some fries and a sprite. And will say he’s proud of you after. But doesn’t do it often because he can see the genuine terror in your eyes - only does it even it’s the two of you in line on a slow day.

Slowly learns to accept that you’re passionate in your own way. He’s loud and proud, whereas you like to keep to yourself. In a way he likes that you’re so open with him, that you let him see the stuff you don’t show other people. Thinks it’s adorable.

Will 100% try to make you more comfortable and less shy. You bought a new dress and don’t want to wear it, he will bluntly tell you it looks good and it would be a waste of money not to wear it.

Encourages your fashion choices. Polly pocket platform heels? He loves them. Bold lipstick? He will buy you earring that match. He quietly realized he liked seeing you happy. And you were happiest being yourself.

He’s not a big fan of grossly obvious PDA. Loves holding your hand or when you grab his bicep when you two walk together. You like it because it doesn’t draw unnecessary attention and he likes it cuz you’re always attached next to him and he doesn’t have to worry about actually loosing you. Plus he likes it when you grab his bicep.

Took forever to convince you to come to one of his games. You were too nervous to get into an arena with so many people - said you could come with a group of his teammates girlfriends - but you hated the idea of being with people you didn’t know.

He got really good at spotting you in the crowd. Didn’t matter where you were sitting, he just trained himself to see you. You were too shy to loudly cheer like everyone else, blending into the crowd due to that. But it didn’t matter.

In a weird way. He likes that hes the only one who gets to see you this happy, because hes the same with you. Slowly learning to take his guard down, be more open.

You’re learning to be confident while he’s learning to be trusting.

[revelboo]

I love the idea of Everything is Alright being a reverse haram with megs, but I see you said originally. So might not happened, which I think is fine. Star doesn't need anymore trauma, but I can also see the possibility of a simple human mending the tension between the higher ups. Just might cause star, and possibly sounds to be very worried

I may still include Megs later on, just wasn’t sure if I could balance all three. It’s a lot easier when the guys at least kind of get along and this dynamic… not so much

Everything is Alright Pt 55

IDW Starscream x Reader

• Keeping you cradled to him as he types one handed on a report, he’s aware of the warmth of you leaning against him, little head resting against his chassis. “You want to talk about whatever’s bothering you?” You ask softly and his wings flick slightly, servos miskeying a glyph, because he should have realized you’d notice something is off. Always watching him, looking to him. You know him and it’s almost frightening. “You don’t have to,” you add when he’s silent too long, because how to even start? And there’s no way to explain how upset he is about finding out about your life span, without revealing that he cares too much. Without making himself vulnerable and risking rejection.

• Resting your ear against him to listen to the soft thrum of his spark, you don’t really expect him to answer. His feelings are something he hoards, keeping them to himself and only occasionally slipping and letting you see that not only does he care about you, but he needs you with him. “You know I care for you,” he says slowly, raspy words humming through you where you’re against him as one of his servos runs from your shoulder down your arm until you lay your palm against him and he vents. It’s not a question exactly, but not really a statement either. A reminder of how insecure he can be, as if trusting anything or anyone is almost impossible.

• “I care about you, too.” He knows. He really does, but something about hearing you say it settles warm about his spark. Tucking his chin so he can see you, there’s something uncertain in your expression that catches at him before you press your cheek against him so he can’t see your eyes, hiding your expression from him. “I like waking up against you. Like when you worry about me even if you don’t need to. Even when you get aggravated, I like the way your wings fidget.”

• Embarrassed, you keep your face hidden against him, trying to tell him how you feel without saying the actual words. Because telling him you think you might love him and you’re not sure when that happened? Especially if he’s only after something physical, needing someone to be there, but not the same way? It might just break you. You like his nervous tics, like the warmth of him and the way his servos feel absently stroking, touching you. You like him.

• Servos pressing you closer to him, grounding himself with the feel of you until you make a little noise of protest, mumbling that he’s squishing you and he relents. Again he thinks about how it would feel to entrust his spark to you, to feel you touch him that way. Would it only drive home the differences between you? Remind him painfully that there’s no way for this to ever be more, no spark in you to lose himself in? And so little time, he can feel it slipping away from him regardless. Head falling back against the back of his chair, he vents. Softly, hesitantly in Cybertronian, he begins to speak, knowing you can’t understand and feeling you shift to try and look at him as he shutters his optics so he won’t see your expression, because it’s hard enough to open up and this is the only way he can, this one sided conversation. Wishing for things not meant for him, swearing to protect you and cherish what time he has. That you’re his, spark or no spark. Regret and fear and love all tangled together. Feeling when you lay your head back down against him, listening to him without knowing how hard these words are.

Previous

[aventurineswife]

Skincare night with Aventurine feat comfy pajamas but when they get ready for the whole thing and about to apply the things they look at each other and be like "you dont actually need that" at the same time

The soft glow of dimmed lights filled your shared space as you and Aventurine prepared for your skincare night. It was a rare, cozy evening where both of you could unwind together, trading his glittering world of high-stakes deals and calculated risks for simple comforts. Aventurine’s usual attire had been swapped for a relaxed, soft gray pajamas, his blond hair falling more casually around his face than usual. You had to admit, he looked almost boyish like this—a side of him rarely seen by anyone else.

The two of you set out your various skincare products on the vanity, each step carefully planned as though it were a negotiation or a deal to be perfected. Aventurine, with his ever-playful smirk, glanced over your selection and held up a small bottle with a raised brow.

"Ready for some rejuvenation?" he teased, unscrewing the lid and pretending to inspect the label with exaggerated concentration. "Because I’ll have you know, this claims to 'revitalize and transform.' Quite bold for a little bottle, don’t you think?"

You laughed, taking the bottle from him. "Yes, but only because someone keeps dragging me out to late-night dinners and gambling events." you teased right back, nudging him lightly.

"Can I help it if I’m surrounded by people who crave my charm and good fortune?" he shot back, winking as he reached for a soft facial brush. "Besides, I would argue that late nights are just more memorable with you around."

You both stood in front of the mirror, your skincare products ready, soft cotton headbands in place, and your cheeks already glowing from laughter. The moment felt calm, almost sacred in its simplicity. Aventurine held up a gentle cleanser, and you were just about to apply the serum when the two of you made eye contact in the mirror, pausing at the same time.

It was then that you both said it in perfect unison: "You don’t actually need that."

For a split second, surprise flickered across your faces, and then you both burst into laughter, the sound filling the room like music. Aventurine set his bottle down, his eyes sparkling with genuine joy as he turned to face you fully.

"You’re too perfect already," he murmured, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. "Why do we need all of this, really? I think we look fantastic."

Your heart warmed at his words, and you reached up, gently cupping his face. "Speak for yourself," you teased. "But… honestly, you’re right. We could do without this routine tonight."

Without missing a beat, Aventurine pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you in that familiar way that made you feel protected, cherished. The two of you abandoned the skincare regimen for something far more enjoyable—just being close, savoring the quiet moments together.

"Maybe our next investment," he whispered softly, "should be in more evenings like this. I don’t need any glow-up routine… as long as I have you."

Nestled in his embrace, you felt as if the world outside didn’t matter. The two of you, in your cozy pajamas, sharing simple laughter and warmth, were everything.

Sick with a dry throat 😇👍

[yappielestappie]

Some lestappen thoughts in these trying times:

I think Max and Charles have a bond unlike anyone else in F1, even though they’re not that close of friends. I’d even go so far as to say they’re trauma bonded.

We all know Jos was downright horrible. It’s quite reasonable to assume that this was very hard on Max as a child, and that he felt alienated and alone (recall the quote of him saying it would’ve been nice to be able to play football with kids his age, sometimes). The only times he got to hang around with kids his age was on the race track. And who was always there? Always at the top? Always challenging him? Charles Leclerc.

Charles, meanwhile, had the opposite. He had a entire support system built around his racing career. He had both brothers and his godfather with him, and a fathers love to guide him through. In his teens, he lost both Jules and his father, and suddenly, the only consistent familiar part of racing that remainder from his childhood, would have been Max.

Meanwhile, while Charles was suffering this loss, Max was in Formula 1, in a top team, doing quite well, and had picked up a support system (albeit a likely limited one) in Daniel Riccardo. I think Charles was extremely jealous of Max when he also got to F1 in 2018. Their whole lives, they’d been opponents, and then Max beat him to F1 by 3 years & had everything Charles did not (a good seat, a father, an older F1 driver to guide him). I also think that’s why the Austria 2019 podium ended up being such a big conflict. It was a lot more than just a win to Charles. It was proving himself.

Now, they’ve both matured (Daniel helped Max and Seb helped Charles). They can look back on their karting days fondly, and they both recognize that the only real supportive part of their karting careers that still remains, is each other. All the hatred they had for one another has turned into support, and a kind of respect that very few drivers have for one another.

They have something special. It’s undeniable. There’s no other drivers on the grid that have history anything like them (Pierresteban could be discussed but that’s a whole mess). And now I think they’re old enough to realize they have something special.

Max genuinely cares about Charles. It’s obvious. Their racing is so much different to anyone else Max goes wheel to wheel with. Leclerc is the only driver I’ve ever seen him apologize to. The whole “Charlie I’ve got a space for you!” Thing is still blowing my mind. Max talks about Charles like he’s the only one Max actually wants to race, like Charles is the only person worthy of challenging him. He rates Charles over everyone else even when he fucks up “come on Charles man, too many mistakes” comes to mind.

And Charles is the same way right back, he just usually has a bit more shame. It’s worth noting that he speaks highly about a lot of other drivers, but Max always seems special. He compliments max out the wazoo sometimes. It’s clear that he sees Max as the very best - as the benchmark to beat. But more than that, he defends Max just like we do. Charles always supports Max’s moves on Lando, even when they’re clearly in the wrong. He supports Max’s aggressive racing, claims to LIKE it even, when Max is being constantly harassed by the fans and media.

There’s something between them. Some unspoken reason why they support each other like this and the only conclusion I can come to is that the memories they have of each other are inseparable from their memories of racing. They’ve been competing at the top since they were 6 years old. They know how to be rivals better than they know how to do anything else in the world.

I don’t know if they ever hang out outside of F1. I don’t know if we’ll ever see them interact again once Max retires. But I do know that they’ve shaped each other in a way that will impact them until the day they die. Every untainted memory from their childhoods is about each other. All the memories of loss and abuse are separate to their memories of each other. They are the only thing that remains.

The most fundamental part of racing for Max, is beating Charles. And the most fundamental part of racing for Charles, is beating Max. Everyone else on the grid is irrelevant- an obstacle. They are two halves of the same story and I think that’s more beautiful than any romance book I’ve ever read.

oh anon you are so absolutely right. listen for me, it's the fact that we can talk all day about lestappen and ship them or let our imaginations and minds go wild with w/e but fundamentally? at the end of the day? there is also substance to it - even any form of fandom aside, there are simply facts about them that make them such a beautiful dynamic. there is something so mesmerizing about the level on which they drive, perform, their talents and skills and the way they grew up with and around each other in a sense. the beautiful juxtapositions, the red strings of fate, the way their paths kept crossing and intertwining even before they raced each other again (suzuka being max' first proper f1 test drives and then jules etc.)... there is just something cosmic about them that (as stated in some previous post) almost boils down to THEM BOTH BEING LIBRAS which is still driving me insane. the balance. the way this just screams UNIVERSE just as partners in life, as twin flames, as two sides of the same coin, two weights on a scale... again, not even saying this is related to the fandom angle of romance. like you said it almost runs deeper than that. and i, personally, refuse to be normal about it the same way the two of them are never truly normal about each other.

[pretty-blkgirl]

Soul’s Desire [Ch. 33]

- Masterlist -

~~~~|~~~~

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell?”

“We can go back to the hospital if you need to”

“I swear to God I’ll get Eunji fired, she went too fucking far”

“Want some more food?”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“You sure you’re not concussed?”

“Security stopped me from going onstage when I saw you fall”

“You have a bruise on your arm”

Chan was nice enough to allow you some much-needed silence on the car ride to Han and Lee Know’s dorm, but as soon as you two stepped foot in the door, the other seven of your soulmates swarmed you.

Soon, eight worried men were surrounding you, offering food, questioning you, or ranting about how they were going to avenge you.

Han knew half the reason you were upset was because of the backlash you were getting, so that was the main topic after the boys ensured you were full and well-hydrated.

“This is so fucking frustrating” Felix, the usual peacemaker, seethed. You noticed he and Chan spoke English when they were pissed. Their accents were heavier than usual as they ranted to one another, offering solutions to your problems.

“Baby we’ll take care of this, don’t even worry about it” I.N sighed, giving you a look of sympathy

“How so? It’s not like you guys can tell people to stop talking shit about me”

“I can” Hyunjin shrugged, “And I will. Fuck my idol image, I’ll do whatever it takes to defend you”

You smile, “I appreciate that baby, but that’ll do more harm than good”

“A dating rumor will start. Dispatch will eat that shit right up” Seungmin noted, “Then she’ll get more hate. Then the company is involved, internal investigations, hiatuses maybe”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, his irritation apparent but he nodded, agreeing that speaking out may not be the best solution.

“All we can do is let this shit blow over. I mean, people are talking shit but I saw a bunch of Charms defending me”

“I’ve seen some Stays defending you too” Han pointed out, “Actually, anyone with sense is defending you”

“There shouldn’t be a need to defend her in the first place. People are mad because she had a medical emergency. That’s so stupid” Changbin ranted

“People are stupid” Chan sighed, frustration clear in his voice, “What do you wanna do y/nnie? How do you want to handle this?”

Eight pairs of eyes stared at you as you thought about the question. Really, what could you do?

“It can’t be helped” You conclude, “This is just… one of the downsides of being an idol. It sucks but I just gotta deal with it.”

“I’m so sorry baby” Felix frowns, tears welling up in his eyes. You dubbed Felix the “feeler” in the group. Whenever you felt like crying but you didn’t want to let those tears out, he’d do it for you. Same for if you wanted to laugh, or scream. He gave you that relief.

“I feel like we can at least get Eunji fired” Han groaned

“She said it was an accident, plus I can’t blame her entirely. I hadn’t eaten anything the entire day, part of it was my fault too”

“It wasn’t a damn accident” Changbin huffed, “And don’t blame yourself for anything. However, I’m gonna make it my mission to make sure you’re eating and drinking like you’re supposed to”

You nod, knowing when Changbin is serious about something, nothing is going to stop him from doing it.

“You know what? How about we all turn our phones off and just spend time together? No outside distractions, and especially no social media” Hyunjin suggested

Everyone agreed, but you made sure to send a message to your members and manager, letting them know your whereabouts.

I.N. ran to the kitchen and came back with a large plastic bowl. It had little cartoon cats on it, so you knew who it belonged to.

“Everyone put their phones in the bowl. We’re having a soulmate bonding night”

“You sound like Felix” Minho rolls his eyes but is the first to hand over his phone. The rest of you follow suit, with Hyunjin being the last one to do so.

“Let’s pop some popcorn and watch a movie” You suggest, “I’ll pick the movie”

“Nuh uh y/nnie” I.N. protests, “You have a habit of picking sad movies. We aren’t crying tonight”

“Let’s watch a scary movie,” Seungmin says

“Hell no” Chan and Felix seem to say at the same time

“Romance then” Hyunjin smiles

It’s you who sighs this time, “Hyunjin, please. You know I adore you, but nobody wants to see Titanic….again”

“I say we watch an Action Movie,” Changbin says excitedly, “Jurassic Park?”

“We watched that last time” Han whines

“Let’s just do a comedy” Minho grunts, grabbing the remote and picking a random streaming service

You all settle on a random movie you enjoy and the boys have never seen it.

The spacious living room was filled with laughter, sounds of sneaky kisses, and the crunching of popcorn as your movie marathon went on.

At some point, the movies stopped, and you all had sleepy conversations that lasted way longer than they should have.

Before you knew it though, you were curled up in Minho’s bed, wearing only a shirt you stole from his drawer.

You slept in a starfish position, leaving Minho to sneak off to Han’s room to get a chance at a comfortable night’s sleep.

The rest of the boys went to their respective dorms, all giving you a kiss goodnight before leaving.

You dreamt of sunny days and starry nights, lying on the grass with eight familiar faces huddled around you.

It was the best sleep you had gotten in years.

~~~~|~~~~

Taglist: @chuuyaobsessed @h0rnyp0t @prttyxbby @yukichan67 @hanniemylovelyquokka @xxeiraxx @loveforlee444 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @cunninglibrarian @holly-here @galaxy4489 @hyunmikim @yougottobekittenme @hyeon-yi @katsukis1wife @multi-fandom-nightmare @staybabblingbaby @kozumesphone @fuck-you-im-gae @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @champagneconfetti @juju-227592 @borahae-reads @reallychaoticwoo

[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

How the fuck is it this time of the week already? Today I'm sharing some Big Secret Collab words I actually wrote last week, because I've been pretty deep in the trenches on the Anastasia AU and also original novel writing this week… forgive me lmao.

(But while I have you, can I interest anyone in a (non-RWRB) trans!Cinderella?)

Oscar is silent for a long moment. When he speaks again, it’s uncharacteristically hesitant. “I don’t know if you know this, but when your emails were leaked, I found out from CNN.” Henry stares at him. He’s aware of the broad strokes of how Alex found out—woken in the night, Zahra dragging him into a room with his mother, ferried around various Presidential staffers for hours—but he’s never really thought about how everyone else learned about it. Never stopped to consider that while the rest of Alex’s family were in the White House when the news broke, Oscar was clear across the country. “No,” he finally says softly. “I didn’t know that.” “I was up late working.” He cocks an eyebrow, one that says: Alex doesn’t get all his workaholic tendencies from his mother, you know. “And out of nowhere, I just had this… this feeling. Like something was horribly wrong. Thought it was just my body telling me I’m too old to be working after midnight anymore, but then I picked up my phone, and it was alert after alert…” He trails off, but Henry doesn’t need him to complete the sentence. Some of those headlines are still burned into his retinas nearly five years later.

Tagging @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517 @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge

@cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @lilythesilly

@myheartalivewrites @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @orchidscript

@piratefalls @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons

@thesleepyskipper @thighzp @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! 

[purple-space-aliens]

i know i already made a post about this today, but i’m being serious when i’m saying that y’all should start providing alt/plain text and other accessibilities on your posts. this is coming from someone who personally has genuine issues reading colored texts, varied font types and sizes, typing quirks, and images with text. i understand that you may have a specific aesthetic, but that should not be prioritized over making our alterhuman community on tumblr accessible for everyone. it doesn’t have to be difficult and complex, just copy and paste everything and then set it to the original text settings. you can even put it under a cut so it doesn’t disrupt the aesthetic of your posts. and while we’re at the topic, image ids (or descriptions under “alt”!), gif warnings (especially for fast gifs), and eyestrain warnings are also some more simple things that could just be put in posts/tags to make our community more accessible for all alterhumans. and when i’m talking about alt/plain texts, i am including when you wish to make jokes. it’s upsetting when others make jokes and i’m left out because i struggle to read to the joke in the first place. i want to be able to be in on things in the community, but it’s really hard to do it because of the lack of alt text and plain text. again, understand thinking it’s pretty or thinking it looks nice but i’m also asking you to please consider making it accessible for those who have trouble reading things like this. i know it’s hard to change things about such a large community, but i’ve seen it happen before so i feel like we could try and do something like it again.

i’m especially putting this for double if you use a dni banner or do not use plain text (not censored unless it is in a way that can still be easily deciphered by either eyes or a screen reader). if i cannot read your banner, i do not know if i can interact or not, defeating the whole purpose of a dni.

lastly, if you are using colored text, me and other alterhumans that have struggles with reading that would likely appreciate if you put the tag “#colored text” on the posts using it so we can having a warning beforehand. this way, we don’t have to filter out your username or block you because both feel incredibly disrespectful to do (at least imo).

i as of right now cannot think of anything else to say, but i am open to speak about this if you do so civilly.

-purple (i’m not sure if this is actually me who wrote this, and various headmates may also show up to discuss things if anyone would like to discuss it)

[daesdivination]

𓂃 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗡𝗘𝗘𝗗 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗡𝗢𝗪 ✧

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓈒 ◌ ‎ ‎ something you need or want (to hear) right now.

notes/disclaimer: a general what you need or want to hear right now! struggled thinking of a topic to do a reading about, so here this is. cuz, i think that everyone should have a sort of little message from the cards about what they might need right now. take what resonates and what doesn't!

⎯⎯ 𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘

seven of pentacles. it embodies perseverance.

what can the seven of pentacles mean? : it can mean things coming to fruition, hard work paying off, harvest, rewards, profits, results, pay-outs, manifestation of ideas or goals, inheritance, cultivation, growing, gestation, nurturing, perseverance, patience, planning, reviewing, taking stock, questioning, crossroads, approaching retirement, and finishing what you started.

you are doing the absolute best you can right now and i admire that for you. you’re very hard worker and it’s so easy to see, especially as the seven of pentacles come out, i think you’re a very structured person but you actually don’t know how hard you work for your goals and that’s frustrating. i can see that you have a lot of dreams and a lot of goals that you want to achieve and you put your entire self your entire mind into that. however, you question yourself and you have doubt when it comes to your skills. you shouldn’t doubt yourself, not at all! you’re amazing and you have all the abilities to achieve everything you want.

even so, i think you might be challenged when it comes to motivation to reach your goals and what i have to say to that is that when you actually want something, you have to persevere through it. you can’t just stop doing whatever it is that you’re doing and expect to get better at it, you have to really work for it and that goes into everything in your life. by pushing self doubt away, you'll be able to reap the rewards that you deserve and have been working so hard for.

you have everything you need to achieve your goals, you just have to put your mind to it. your self doubt is the only thing that’s harming you from getting what you want and i’m here to tell you, as well as whoever you might work with or just the universe itself, that you have strong capabilities and you can do what you want as long as you put your mind to it. there’s nothing wrong with taking breaks, just don’t be lazy. if you don’t put your mind to something, you will never get it done.

⎯⎯ 𝗛𝗢𝗣𝗘

the star. it embodies renewal.

what can the star ☆ mean? : it can mean hope, inspiration, creativity, calm, contentment, renewal, serenity, spirituality, healing, and positivity.

with the star, all i have to say is that you don’t know how much you’re worth. and i’m just here to tell you that you are amazing. i can’t believe that anyone would let you go while you’re the embodiment of the star. i can feel your personality and the way you act is very bright and charming all while being kind at the same time. i see passion and i see determination within you and that part of you is burning bright. however i feel like you’ve been dimmed by other people and that’s not what we want here. i want you shining and for you to know your worth. while you’re going through these tough times it’s definitely hard to be your charming happy self and i totally get that.

even stars need breaks and with that, you need to stick up for yourself a lot more because i can see your strength in you. you just need to find it in your own way. disrespect is not allowed here, especially when it comes from yourself. you need to know your worth because other people see it so clearly. i think you need to find peace and inspiration within sorts of media right now so you can bring the renewal into your life and positivity surround yourself with people who know your worth and can teach you how to love you without needing to dim your light and outshine you in the process. you all can shine together and don't be afraid to speak up for yourself because your ideas are words are solid.

also, don't be afraid to put yourself out there too! there's nothing wrong with taking risks and with a personality that big and positive like yours, you'll find friends, relationships, and connections anywhere. it's not hard once you start healing from your own negative self thoughts.

⎯⎯ 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗬

page of swords. it embodies exploration.

what can the page of swords mean? : it can mean delayed news, patience needed, ideas, inspiration, planning, vigilance, protective, guarded, fairness, think before you speak, don’t get drawn into arguments, mental agility, using your head, inquisitive, curious, quick-witted, chatty, communicative, education, petty gossip, being truthful/ direct, speaking out, fighting injustice.

i can already see that you’re an impatient person and i’m not going to lie so am i. i think that you’re a very anxious person and you always feel as if you have to do things quickly and before anyone else just so you can get ahead of the game. that’s actually what stressing you out right now. what you need to hear right now that you need to slow down. also i have this feeling that you need to think before you speak because you speak without thinking at times and there are people listening that you might not want for them to be listening to you (also something i struggle with). there are always going to be people that are listening to you and they may be enemies you don't want to rile up even more.

i think you just have to keep to yourself sometimes and you need to be more guarded to protect yourself from others. especially when it comes to your emotions so you don’t get attached to people too quickly. i think you're very restless when it comes to people when it comes to maybe texting you back or not really paying attention to you. i think when it comes to those situations, you should find attention within yourself that you can provide entertainment to yourself without anyone else.

if someone doesn't text you back, it's not a big deal. wait for them to text you back instead, you can live without them. you're a very caring person and you taking up the fact that you have to change or help anyone is not healthy for you. take some time for yourself because you're the stronger and most important person in your world. make sure to ground yourself and let yourself take rests instead of worrying about things that may not even be so big to the other person.

final notes about this reading: did this kinda spiral.. yes... but i'm hoping it was still helpful or good to hear! dear curiosity, i kind of called you out... my bad chat..

links + things: https://daestarot.carrd.co to learn more about me (includes examples of paid and free readings, what i do read for + don't, and my discord for contact)!

[cherrielyme]

i like you best

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader | 18+ content | no other warnings wc: 2931 ∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

It’s Liv who catches him looking first. “Don’t look,” she says, blowing the smoke from her joint out of her nose as she speaks. Someone has strung up fairy lights in the trees and she looks ethereal in their soft glow.

Of course you look, glancing behind you with an inhale on your own joint, feeling the pleasant burn of the smoke coiling in your lungs. He’s standing just outside the glass doors to the yard, staring with that single-minded intensity he gets about things. Obsession.

You blow out the smoke and look right back. He jerks his head a little, to the left, and you know what it means, know what he’s saying when you turn back around to stub out what’s left of your joint.

“I don’t know what you see in him, Ames,” Liv says, warning in her voice, her eyes tracking him as he walks back into the house.

“I know.”

She sighs, grinding out her own joint before checking her phone. 

“Hey,” you say. “You ok if I go?”

“Yeah. Jack’s gonna be here soon.” You wonder if she knows how much her eyes light up when she talks about her boyfriend, and then you wonder what your face looks like when you talk about Rafe. Actually, you don’t talk about Rafe, and nothing really makes you happy anymore, so there’s that.

“K,” you say, and move to go but she grabs your wrist and looks at you, serious.

“Be careful around him. I mean it,” she says, and your stomach warms at the worry in her tone. You guess some things still make you happy.

“He’s giving me what I need.” You give her a small smile, as if that will make it ok.

She frowns, but lets go and says “Ok. See you tomorrow.”

You trail across the backyard, not really in any hurry to get inside. Your head feels fuzzy, not too much, just a little bit, the way you like. You know he’s waiting for you. It’s quiet out in the yard, just the stoners and smokers and the Pogues who don’t care that it’s a Kook throwing tonight’s party.

The noise hits you like a slap when you slide the door open to the living room, the humidity hits you right after, and you blink a little in the dim light of the room, surveying the crowd inside. It’s a mix of people, mostly Kooks, some people you don’t recognize who are probably Tourons. There’s a harsh song playing, and someone has set up a strobe effect so you hurry through the room to the stairs.

The sounds melt away the further into the house you get, and you take it slowly, trailing your fingers along the wall. You know where he’ll be, see the room at the end of the hallway spilling soft light onto the floor.

You pause in the doorway, struck by him, just like you always are. He’s lounging on the bed, wearing a stupid pink polo and khaki shorts, and he’s barefoot, haloed in the glow from a lamp on the nightstand.

You shut the door, completely closing out the noise from the party downstairs, and you go to him.

He surges up off the bed in an instant, one strong hand around your waist, hot on the bare skin of your back in the gap between your shirt and shorts, the other tangled in your hair. He yanks your head back, and you gasp at the pain. He takes the opportunity to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, more teeth and tongue than anything else.

You wind your arms around his neck, holding him as tightly as you can. He moves from your mouth now, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your jaw before latching on to your neck, sucking and biting at the thin skin there. You moan, wanton, knowing that the pounding music from downstairs will ensure your privacy, but not really caring if anyone does hear. Distantly, you think that you’ll have to borrow one of your brother’s stupid ascots to cover these marks at work tomorrow.

He nips at you, viciously, and pulls your hair harder, encouragement to be louder. You whine, and grind down against him. He grunts, pulling you down against him, and you feel how hard he is for you, know that the only thing keeping you apart are his stupid little khakis and your cutoffs.

Suddenly, you can’t wait anymore, and you shove off of him, wincing when he comes away from your neck with a sharp sting. You sink to your knees in front of him, swallowing when he comes up on his forearms to watch you, bracketed in between his thighs. His hair is mussed and his lips are swollen and red, wet. It’s not fair, that someone like him could be so beautiful.

You touch him over his shorts, reveling in the way his eyes close and his head falls back, the way he breathes out harshly as you rub him. You go for his fly, but–

“Stop.” His hands are on yours, pulling you away from him. You’re confused, and a thin coil of embarrassment threatens. He’s not turning you down, is he?

But no, he’s speaking again, commanding. “Stand up. Take your clothes off.”

You do, reaching for the hem of your shirt, but he stops you again.

“No. Turn around. Do it slow.” 

You stop, look at him. His eyes are dark and his eyelashes are thick as he looks up at you, face expectant.

You turn and give him a show, pulling your tight tank top over your head. “Fuck,” he breathes out when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra. You hook your fingers around the waistband of your shorts next, slowly pulling them down until you’re just in your lacy black thong. You go to pull it down too, but for a third time, his words stop you.

“Leave it,” he says, and you shiver from the proximity and the need you hear in it. He’s right behind you now, breath brushing the back of your neck as he pulls your long hair over your left shoulder before licking a stripe up your neck and nipping at your ear.

Dreamily, you sigh, sinking back against him. He’s taken his shirt off, and you could swear you feel his heart beating as he presses his chest to your back. He wraps his arms around you again, caging your arms down against your sides so you can’t do anything but take it as he grabs your jaw with one hand, moving it to the side to give him more leverage as he goes back to ravaging your neck with his teeth. The other hand he puts on one of your tits, palming it and rolling the rapidly stiffening nipple in his fingers.

You can’t even drop your head back because of his grip on you, all you can do is take it, let the sensations wash over you. You can move your hips though, and you grind your ass back against him as much as you can, desperate to feel his length against you. And there it is, still tucked away in his stupid fucking khakis, but he’s shifted to, rocking gently against you.

He moves now, slowly walking you backwards towards the bed, and you think he’ll sit you both down, but at the last second he spins you so that the back of your knees hit the bed and you stumble onto your back. He goes with you, arms bracketing your head and hips snugly nestled in between your thighs. His pupils are blown, and you don’t know if it’s because of you or the coke you saw him do earlier or some combination of the two.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, barely a whisper, mouth so close you could capture it with yours if you leaned up.

“You know what I want,” you say, coy even though this is hardly your first time with him.

“I want you to say it,” he says, and your thighs clench around him involuntarily at the intensity in his voice. He notices, eyes crinkling even though his mouth stays in that harsh thin line you’re used to.

“Fuck me,” you say, barely a whisper, giving him what he wants. “I want you to fuck me so hard I forget about everything that isn’t you.”

He smiles, just a little, just a smirk, but it’s just for you so it’s ok.

“All you have to do is ask,” he says, just as quietly as you, and then it’s like a switch has flipped and he’s a maniac, pulling his dick out of his shorts and yanking your panties aside before shoving into you in one smooth motion.

You gasp at the stretch, the almost pain of it. You’re wet for him, always so wet for him, but he’s so big, and he’s rough. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to him, already setting a punishing pace, snapping his hips into yours.

He’s got one hand on your hip, fingers gripping so tightly that you know you’ll have marks in the morning. He lets go, just for a moment, so that he can yank one of your legs up to his shoulder, and you moan as this shifts him deeper into you.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans. “You’re so fucking tight and wet for me. No one else makes you feel like this.”

You barely hear him, so focused on the sensation, so good you could stay in it forever.

He doesn’t like this, and a sharp slap to your face brings you back. “Tell me,” he says, eyes hard, moving his grip down to rest lightly on your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, just rests his palm there, implication heavy and heady. “No one else makes you feel as good as I do.”

You nod, reveling in how it drags his calloused hand against your throat, how you can feel his fingers flutter around you when you take a breath. “It’s just you, you’re the only one,” you say.

“Good. Can you come like this?” he asks and before you can answer he moves his hand down to your clit, pressing in with his thumb, tracing the smallest circles.

Can you come like this? Yeah, you can, and you do, vision whiting out a little with the intensity with which it takes you, hadn’t realized how much the anticipation and his huge cock splitting you open had turned you on, how close you’d already been.

You cry out, first with pleasure and then with oversensitivity as he doesn’t relent, just keeps pounding away and circling your clit. You try to wiggle away, you’ve barely come down and you can already feel another orgasm cresting, and it’s not entirely a good feeling right now, but he doesn’t let you move.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he says, leaning close and biting your bottom lip hard and then soothing the sting with his tongue. “You’re gonna come again.”

You nod jerkily, knowing the game by now. This is what you’d asked for, when you told him to fuck you so hard the whole world was him. 

He changes his angle, just a little bit, getting a better grip on the sheets next to your head and pulling his hand away from your clit and moving it up to your throat. This time he does squeeze, just the way you like, light enough that you won’t pass out but hard enough that you can’t take a full breath.

“Touch yourself,” he demands, and his eyes shift from your face down to where he’s inside of you, to where you slip two of your fingers to the bundle of nerves. Even at your light touch, your pussy jumps, tightening around Rafe at the sensation, and he groans, hips stuttering a little.

You can tell he’s close, and you want him to come, want him inside of you, dripping down your thighs for the rest of the night. The combination of your filthy thoughts, your fingers, and his cock combine, pushing you over the edge once again. 

“Oh, fuck, Rafe!” You cry out, strangled, and you can’t breathe and your pussy tightens as it spasms, and Rafe finally pulls his gaze away from where the two of you are joined, his head dropping and eyes closing as he finally joins you, his hips smacking into yours as he falls over the edge, the sound of skin on skin obscenely loud in the quiet room.

You moan again when you feel him filling you, his cock jumping as he comes. He lets go of your throat and you realize how light-headed you were. Dragging in a full lungful of air for the first time in who knows how many minutes, you let him manhandle you, tugging lightly at your hair until you turn your face towards him so he can place a surprisingly gentle kiss on your lips.

“How do you feel?” he asks softly, and your heart hurts a little bit. When he’s rough with you, when he hurts you, it’s good. The softness is hard to handle. He seems to realize this though, because he doesn’t push you to answer, instead he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling bereft in his absence. The feeling doesn’t last for long though, because he’s already plunging two fingers into you,  holding your jaw so you can’t turn away from him.

“You only came twice. I bet you can go again.” With his hand on your jaw instead of the bedspread, he’s balancing on his elbows, and he’s that much closer to you. He doesn’t kiss you again, and you don’t kiss him, but your mouths are so close you’re breathing the same air. And now his fingers are curling, pressing through the mess inside of you to stroke your front wall and your whole body jolts at the sensation, so different from him pumping into you.

You let out another moan, still too overstimulated to do anything besides lay there and let him do what he wants. He shakes you, just a little. “Louder,” he commands. “I want everyone who comes up those stairs to know what we’re doing in here. What I’m doing to you.”

You acquiesce, your moan turning into a shriek as he does – something – inside of you that has you lifting your hips, involuntarily seeking more friction. He chuckles and you feel a blush forming on your tear-soaked face. He does it again and you’re really crying now, so out of your mind with overstimulation that there’s nowhere else for the emotion to go, both of your hands are on his arm, his wrist, clutching on because you don’t know what else to do and he twists his fingers again and tilts your head so his mouth is near your ear and you realize that he’s been saying something all this time, it’s just that it’s only now with his mouth so close that you realize it’s your name, he’s chanting it over and over again like it’s a prayer and– you shatter, screaming for real as you come the hardest you’ve come all night, practically gushing on his hand but he’s not stopping he’s still working you and you’re so oversensitive and his fingers are so big, you swear he added a third one at some point, and you don’t even come down before you’re flying again and you really and truly do black out at this point, the sensations just too much.

When you come back online he’s pulled his fingers out of you and he seems preoccupied with rubbing your thighs, massaging your combined fluids back into your skin. Of course he is, the freak is obsessed with having his mark on you.

You must have moved or made a noise because suddenly he’s laser-focused on you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, and it would be too much, too intimate but he knows that about you, and keeps going. “I love when you cry for me. Because of me.” And maybe that should scare you the most, that he knows what he can get away with saying to you, dressed up in language like he doesn’t really care.

He doesn’t let you dwell on it though, because he’s sliding his hand, the one that was inside of you, up to your mouth. “Open,” he says. “Taste us.”

And you do, tasting the swirl of his bitterness and salt mixed with your sweet, almost tangy juice. His pupils are still blown wide, his blue eyes deep and dark in the dimness of the room, and you know it’s been long enough for the coke to wear off, you’re not even really high anymore either, so it’s just him and you now.

You lie like this for a little while longer, letting him wipe your tear tracks away and trail his fingers over your skin and look at you, deeply, in a way he can’t do in the real world, when he’s a Kook and you’re a Pogue, and not just two people like you are now. 

He gave you what you needed. The world is quiet now, your problems feel far away. You feel sore and wrung out and sleepy. And if he can give you what you need like this, then you can give him what he needs too. Someone to lie with. Someone to be still with. Someone to take care of, even if it’s just in these quiet, stolen moments.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

if you made it this far, thanks for reading! this is my first time posting my writing lol if you like it please interact! i love to chat :)

[christinebloodwrittings]

To hunt or be hunted

Alastor x reader x Lucifer

Chapter 4: Warnings: Sexual tension.

(Image taken from Pinterest.)

One year left. You reminded yourself while watching the black snake tattoo that slowly made its way up your arm, soon it would reach your heart and all would be over.

“Ten years, you work for me at my Hotel, and if I can’t manage to convince you to find something good to do with yourself, I’ll set you free” Charlie’s voice resonated in your head, it made no sense, but the true meaning of the deal was that if she could manage to help you find a reason to continue living, you would have a permanent home at the hotel.

If she couldn’t, you would have your soul back, and then the snake takes care of ending your suffering.

A swarming of feelings and thoughts came from thinking about the countdown, “It’s probably the best” who was going to miss you anyways? No one did back at the living world, your daughter died postpartum, your husband died because of his sins, most of your friends at the time left overseas looking for a better life, and there was no family left to mourn you.

Still isn’t.

Your father and your husband were most likely around in hell somewhere, in a hundred years you haven’t bothered to check, probably ended up repeating the same pattern: Gambling, debts, death.

May was a dreadful month, Mother’s day, your daughter’s birth and death anniversary, and just by the end of it, your birthday. Turning 40 is bad, but imagine turning 140 years old, that is worse.

You died at 35 years old in the 1920’s, since that to now it’s been 104 years, plus your age at the time 139, now turning 140. “It’s a blessing that I stayed looking the age I died in, otherwise I would be looking worse” you outlined your hips with your hands while straightening the leather straps around your waist.

‘Y/n, can you come to the parlor please?’ you heard Charlie speak through. You immediately knew what was going to happen, given that it was nine am sharp, and you weren’t summoned to make breakfast.

She either told them, or Angel was going to be fried alive.

Just as you guessed, there was Charlie in front of the fireplace, as the rest, except Alastor, looked rather hurt and shocked, especially Lucifer and Vaggie.

“You called?” The smoke cleared, making yourself appear sitting on the couch next to Charlie. A gasp found its way out of Vaggie’s throat before anyone could say anything. The angel collected her thoughts and then she was able to speak.

“Charlie, what the fuck is the AXE-MAN DOING IN THE HOTEL!” Vaggie didn’t doubt a second to stand before her with the spear pointing at you, “She’s the chef of the Hotel” Charlie smiled weakly, trying her best to stay collected. “Since when?” the feline bartender asked, not minding your presence very much.

“Before it started actually, eight years ago?” she turned to you for confirmation, which you nodded affirmatively. “And you hid this, because…?” Angel’s turn to ask. Charlie was in shambles trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t raise more questions, but failed, so you interceded.

“We made a deal; we don’t need to disclose the details, but it made her feel guilty” she shot you an unamused look before turning to her partner, her hand softly tracing the outline of her cheek.

“How come you got angry at me for lying to you, but you keep this kind of secret, honey?” seeing Charlie look as trapped as you were amused you, however for the sake of ending the fallen angel’s ranting, you intervened. 

“Hey now, whether she wanted to tell you or not it’s her business, but you hid the fact that you are an angel, worse than that a murderer, and no better than us sinners, so don’t act all hurt because now you two are even” your eyes lit up as the staring began to feel more lie a threat towards the fallen angel.

“You knew?” she diminished the distance between her spear and your neck, not earning a single flinch on your part, “One piece of advice, your golden blood leaves a trail, and the stench is very specific, those like me that are used to blood can tell the difference” Alastor nodded in agreement.

“Why didn’t you tell me” Charlie sounded suspicions not hurt, to no one’s surprise really, “Last thing I knew I was a chef, not the gossip press” you took a look back to Vaggie, using a finger to lower the spear with zero effort, “Besides, wasn’t my secret to disclose” you winked an eye.

“Wait hold on, what makes the Axe-man want to work in a place for redemption?” Lucifer questioned, now more relaxed, he was all and hellfire before thinking you had taken her daughter’s soul. “She’s kind of…” her eyes were looking to you for help, “I made her a promise, we fought and came to an agreement” you aided a response, one that was good enough for her not to worry.

Everyone turned to you, “I’m not ashamed of it, I got my ass kicked by miss sunshine here, lost my soul in the process and now I’m the chef” all except you and Charlie laughed, tearing up a little too.

“Charlie doesn’t own a soul, don’t be stupid, she’s lying right, Charlie?” Lucifer watched his darling, perfect daughter image crumble when all she could respond to was a quiet shameful nod.

“YOU own a soul?” The shock was understandable. Possessing souls was not unusual, even lower-ranking demons could do it. The fact was that it was the good-natured princess who wanted to redeem demons. It was too much for Lucifer, he flopped beside you, brushing his hair back. 

“Before you all judge her, I was stupid enough to challenge her when Lilith had just left, she was in a very dark place, my timing was terrible” you laughed, making your injuries pang on every fiber and string of muscle in response. 

“How dark?” the king whispered your way, “I was her punching bag, even after our fight” he muttered a ‘shit’ both impressed and somewhat feeling guilty. They both had similar eyes when it came to pain.

“The infamous Axe-Man of New Orleans, I presume” Alastor came forward, grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. “Oh, how unfortunate” he knew your name from above, so he lived around or in New Orleans.

“Why would you say that? You made an entire state fear your ax, for years there was nothing but jazz playing in the streets at night, and what’s best, you were never identified nor caught” he pulled you from your seat, hitting his chest, his staff disappearing to leave his hand free to sneak behind your back, keeping you in place.

“Well, I’m not that person anymore” Alastor drank in your scent, the sweetness burning its way down his lungs.

Every fiber, every hair on his body, told Alastor to run. Animal instinct, a deer in the jaws of a lion, a prey in front of a carnivore. Maybe because of the post-battle adrenaline he didn't feel the same instinct when you helped him. What will you feel with him so close? hunger? anger? lust? Curiosity ate him alive, he wanted to know what was telling you your instinct, how would it feel to be eaten by you.

“What made you bury the hatchet?” Angel’s pun made you smile, “Alastor” still in his arm, you felt him shift. “When you made yourself…present in hell, young, power hungry and all that, something inside me just told me that it was time to stop” ‘or else it was going to end with blood’ you thought. 

“Also before all this, I had heard about the cannibalistic murderer” you were aware of his aberration to touch, but given his closeness, you had no choice. Both of your hands settled on his hips, mostly for leverage, but also to see how he would react to you.

“What an honor, I must say your performance inspired mine” his smile twitched, especially after feeling your warmth though his coat.

“You’re insulting me, Radio demon” his chest tightened, a growl emanated from your throat, subtle but it made Alastor’s mind cloud a little. Focusing on your dilated pupils at all times to read any sign of warning, he saw nothing, no emotion whatsoever.  

“Your act was sloppy, careless. The victim that became the executioner of his aggressors, tell me, do you feel better?” He didn’t understand what you were implying, once he tasted human meat he just couldn’t stop. He never asked himself if he was content, or if the blood made him feel better.

“You only targeted Italian mobsters; I’d say that’s rather sloppy” that’s all he could think, “And yet I didn’t allow myself to be shot in the head” there was a weird aura surrounding you and him.

The situation was charming, two assassins of excellence, powerful Overlords with influence and stigma. Despite their sins, they were beautiful beings full of life and grace. Lucifer couldn't help but feel a tingle on his back watching such a scene. It seemed like they were going to devour each other, and relish in it.

“Disappointed?” your fangs shined with the firelight. “A little” he answered, expecting you to be more sanguinary, just as you used to be. “I’ll make Jambalaya today if that makes you feel better” but no matter what he did, while frozen in place, like a deer in headlights, you couldn’t make him feel less excited, less alive.

“Thank you chérie, what about my work as of late?” reluctantly he let go of you, taking both of your hands in his. Yearning to make you either praise him, or crush his head under your heel.

“Very entertaining” he has a very slim waist, and yet it felt strong under your fingertips, warm. He has his hands and forearm blackened, just as his legs must be. You wondered if the rest of his skin must be of that beautiful cream color. Of course, his chest wasn’t bald, like you he has a thin layer of short and soft fur.

“Ugh, get a room” Lucifer broke the moment, making Alastor’s eyes turn into the demonic radio stare you knew so well, “Funny I didn’t think such a tiny person could have a massive mouth” he then stepped away. Was it normal to be cold? Your body missed his closeness.

“Here he goes again, how about you help me with breakfast munch-king?” Lucifer felt his jacket being pulled off the couch, dragged by it towards the door that led to the hallway to the kitchen, “Did you seriously called me that?” he allowed that, with a smirk he gave Alastor the finger.

“Want me to sing the song too?” you warned with a smile, “You wouldn’t dare-” your arm hugged his small frame into your side as you started to mock him, “Ding Dong the witch is dead!” you started, dragging the king down the hallway, “STOOP!” That was the last thing the crew heard before the door closed behind you.

In the kitchen, Lucifer wandered around, staying a few steps from you. Not because he needed it, but to not seem invasive. 

“So, you challenged my daughter?” you hummed a yes, “She took the split a bit bad, huh?” in the corner of your eye you could see him sit on the kitchen island, just a few inches from where his daughter had hurt her hand.  

“I’ll send you my medical bill” your sarcasm made him laugh a little, “You don’t look like you belong in the sin of pride, yours must be wrath, isn’t it?” Do demons look according to their sins? You didn’t know, “You tell me, I have yet to allow myself to ponder over what I have done”.

“I think I didn’t introduce myself, please forgive me” you left the kettle under the fire and walked over to him, “My name is Y/n” you extended your hand to him, he took it with a smile. “Lucifer Morningstar, you may call me however it pleases you” his touch was gentle, but firm, you could feel his pulse though his gloves.

A thought tickled your brain, “In that case, would you like sugar or honey in your tea, Samael?” his eyes shifted, his horns grew. Like wood, like wood, his gaze was the same as his daughter's, and yet they harbored both hatred and sadness, both as deep as an abyss.

It shot an intense wave of electricity up your spine. You stood in front of the biggest predator in all of hell.

“Sorry, sorry, I just wanted to get a reaction out of you” he hadn’t let go of your hand, nor squeezed it, “I apologize, my king” your free hand caressed over the fabric.

He pouted, still not letting go of your hand. “If you let me touch your ears, I may forgive you” he turned back, you caught the sight of his tail slithering inside his pants.

“Sure, but please don’t get too close to the inside, my instincts are very strong and unforgiving, I would hate to have your blood on my uniform” You couldn't even finish speaking when he pulled your hand, immediately starting to touch the fur surrounding your ears. His knees settled on either side of your hips, taking advantage of the extra height the furniture provided.

“So soft, it’s so weird, a lion sinner” he was pensative, “Usually it’s a loyal, brave and true creature, heaven material” the sensation made your heart flutter. You felt like a dog, which made your ego bruise up a little, but at the same time his hands were warm and gentle. So gentle, you noticed he took your advice and avoided the areas you mentioned.

“Anyways, you’re forgiven, again, you’re very soft” Another cold feeling due to loss of touch, how annoying. You swallowed a lump of saliva before you could speak again, “Thank you, I take care of myself”.

“Oh and the note, thanks, it hasn’t been easy” he didn’t eased the pressure on your hips,  “Marriage ain’t easy, and being apart after thousand years of history must be rough” it’s not like the closeness bothered you, but it grant him a cocky smile and a sense of power over you, that feeling brought back the feeling of looking like a dog.

“I just…I wish I could make it up to Charlie” his hands grabbed one of yours, fidgeting with your fingers and the palm. “If it makes you feel more at ease, the sole fact that you’re here partially does more than enough” the light in his eyes lasted a few seconds, it was a lovely sight.

“Partially?” worried? Understatement. “If I say it you can’t hit me or anything” he made an X over his heart, then his hand went back to yours.

“She lied to you and you just went along with it? Parenting 101, mutual respect: she doesn’t lie and you don’t either” he applied a light pressure to your hand pads, making your claws come out and retract, that seemed to amuse him.

“So I have to…ground her?” his golden gaze went up to your eyes, but you were far too concentrated in his movements. “Well not now, but maybe speaking with her about it might be the right course of action”.

Melancholy, he had a feeling so he went for it.

“You were a parent?” he was right, your pained expression lasted a second but it was enough for him to feel a pang on his side. “For a day and a few hours” your eyes darkened, as if they were lost in thought. The warmth of his hand on your cheek and a soft ‘My condolences’ brought you back. 

“I just know appropriate parenting by taking my parent’s example and do the opposite” you masked your pain with a smile and a smart remark, just like him, “Yeah, me too” his response made you scoff, “Where would you’ve sent you daughter for this kind of idea, Heaven?”.

Laughter filled the room. He wouldn’t do such a thing, nothing Charlie did would make Lucifer banish her anywhere, much less punish her like that for trying to help others.

“I had a different perspective of you” your tail stiffened around your leg, “What, a soulless maniac killer and nothing more?” you used to be like that. He laughed, “I mean, soulless indeed” you ruffled the hair that fell on his forehead, “But I’m glad I was wrong, thank you for taking care of my daughter, I see she trusts you a lot” you wouldn’t call it trust, nor she relied on you much.

Now that you think about it, taking care of her was instinctive, “I just grew used to her this past eight years” he smiled, “Thank you” he sensed the shift in you, the situation tensed up very quickly.

“Don’t, and just to be fully open about it, you were the target” you would never show your fangs to anyone, looking like an animal doesn’t give you the right to act like one.

“Wait really?” his lips twitched, almost smiling. “I thought if I bruised up your daughter you would appear, but you saw how that ended” he hummed, rather amused. Your intimidation did nothing to him.

“Are you strong enough?” he questioned it? It felt insulting, “Are you offering?” you looked at him up and down, not a trace of malice. “I mean if that’s what you wanted” he was willing to fight with you? “Nah I knew I wasn’t strong enough, it’s no different now. I just wanted to pass into history as a crazy bitch who died at the hands of the devil”.

‘I’m oversharing, shut up’ you took a deep breath, adjusting yourself in between his legs, “I see” his breath hit your skin, “Now I just do this, and I’m fine with it”.

“I’d say, you’re terrific in the kitchen, no matter if it’s a served cold or hot type of dish, you always make it taste like home” your ears flattened against your head. “Thank you” he then looked up from your hand once again, a tender pink hue adorned your cheeks.

“Anyways” you needed to get rid of his touch, it was just enough to take a few steps backwards, away from the overwhelming warmth for the cold to embrace you again. “I have to make breakfast, and I just pulled you away because your constant fights with Alastor has gotten old very quick” you walked away, taking your white apron off the hanger, then tied a lovely bow on your back with the laces.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, see you later then” was that disappointment you heard? You didn’t know, and couldn’t care as long as your body remained trying to shake off the excessive heat, and the phantom of his touch still lingering. “Fuck” thinking about it made you cut your finger with a knife.

...

Hazbin Taglist: @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @zealousllamawolf @kittycat246 @littlebluefishtail

[f1-stuff]

You mentioned omegaverse in the surreal DC reblog where he’s commenting far too much on Charles’s smell lol and it made me wonder if you’ve ever considered writing omegaverse Charlos? Do you have any interest or not so much your thing?

Love your work <33333

Hello! ❤️ I didn't used to be into omegaverse very much tbh, but something clicked in the last couple years and I started to vibe with it a lot more. I actually did start to write an abo charlos fic, that's also a Victorian-era royalty arranged marriage situation (woo that's a mouthful 😂), but I haven't added much to it in a while...

The funny thing is that I find myself forgetting it's abo while writing bc there's so much else going on, and then I have to throw in a line about someone's scent asghfjlslsdk. But anyway, I'm gonna share a little more of it now just because I feel like it's been a while since I posted a fic or a snippet...

“Charles.”

Impatience has crept into his mother’s voice by the second utterance of his name, and yet Charles still takes the time to finish the page he’s reading before clapping the (dreadfully boring) book shut and looking up at her expectantly. As usual, she doesn’t look particularly amused by his stubbornness.

“Charles, I was thinking that perhaps you and I should stay away from the palace for an additional month or so.”

“What?” he frowns. “Why?”

“To rest,” she suggests. “It’s been a very tough week, and you still don’t look well-”

“Maman,” he sighs, rubbing his temple where a headache is starting to form. Of course, he won’t tell her that. “I feel fine. And I’m ready to go home. We already missed Uncle’s birthday. We are not missing Papa’s.”

His mother doesn’t reply. It’s not the first time she’s brought it up, and it won’t be the last, but Charles isn’t losing this particular argument. Not even if he has to escape back to the palace himself. A week away from his father in his poor condition is already too much to bear, let alone the prospect of more time apart.

Charles and his mother’s retreat to their country residence had been unavoidable. The ‘very tough week’ in question is Charles’ heat, which had been brought on early due to the stress he's been under, caused by his numerous advisors' renewed efforts as of late to convince him to sign the regency order. No doubt they’ll be hoping that now, weakened by five days of fever and delirium, he’ll feel further compelled to relinquish his power to a regent in the event of his father’s death before he’s come of age.

It’s never going to happen, and his mother doesn’t need to try to protect him by hiding him away for a month either. She, along with everyone in that damned palace, treats him delicately enough as it is. Ever since he’d presented around eleven years old, he’s been wrapped in cotton wool. But just because he’s an omega doesn’t mean he isn’t perfectly capable of standing up for himself. In fact, he can’t wait to be free of the silly protective measures that were put in place almost seven years ago. The moment he’s crowned, he’s doing away with all of it.

“Really, Charles. I hope you’re not upset we had to come here. You know that it’s for your own safety-”

“Yes, maman, I know,” he interrupts, then sighs and aims a small smile her way to soften his exasperated tone. “I’m not arguing that. But I don’t need any more time to recover. It isn’t as though I do much more than this in the palace, anyway.”

Reading books, painting, playing piano and chess - there isn’t much more that he’s allowed to do. The other activities that his brothers partake in, like horse riding and archery, aren’t permitted for him, nevermind that he performed them just fine before he’d presented. That argument has never worked to convince anyone to grant him allowances because it’s not really about whether he’s capable.

“Well...if you’re certain.”

“I am,” he says, firmly. His mother nods.

Good. That’s settled, then. She speaks again before he has a chance to reopen his book.

“The other thing I’ve been meaning to discuss with you - your uncle has invited the Sainz siblings to come and stay at the palace. You met their two eldest when you were very young, but I’m sure you don’t remember.”

“No,” Charles confirms, intrigued. “Who are they?”

“Their father is a Spanish duke, and his son, Prince Carlos, is just a few years older than you. Unlikely that he will ever inherit the throne, but it is a distant possibility.”

Ah. So a marriage prospect, then. Charles bites back a sigh. From one prison to another.

“You should get to know him better,” his mother says, reading his expression.

“Why?” he asks, just to be difficult. He knows very well why.

“Because. Your Uncle Thierry thinks it’s a good idea.”

Well, if his uncle thinks it, then so it shall be.

Charles sinks further into his chair, grabbing the book he’d set aside and reopening it pointedly. His mother takes the hint. (The book may be a dull one, but at least it serves its purpose as a conversation ender superbly.)

****

“Monaco could be a very important chess piece in future conflicts,” Caco explains, leaning against the table to address his young cousin. “It is under the military protection of France, and having the force of France at our disposal could be instrumental in quelling potential unrest.”

Carlos Junior looks up at him from his seat at the desk, notes of skepticism in his expression. He doesn’t make an objection just yet - his cousin would not be telling him this unless it had come from his father directly.

Caco sets down a piece of paper in front of him. It’s a drawing of a young man who can’t be more than eighteen, his boyish features evident even in sketch form. The other thing that is undeniable is his beauty, a sense of mischief and innocence dancing in his eyes that has Carlos wondering if it’s a faithful representation.

“Is he this pretty in person?”

Caco simply gives him a look, not dignifying that with a response. “That is Prince Charles, heir apparent to the Monegasco throne, seventeen years old. In the next few weeks, you will study everything there is to know about him - his favorite novels, plays, composers. You will brush up on your French-”

“Wait, wait, cousin,” Carlos interjects, blinking in confusion. “What does a prince have to do with me?”

“That omega...” Carlos’ gaze shoots up to his cousin, brows raising. “...has everything to do with you.”

Ah. That changes things, indeed.

“As I was saying,” Caco continues, sighing. “In order to keep the prince safe, he’s been kept sheltered from his father’s court for years, ever since he was a boy. Thus, when he does make a rare public appearance, such as at the opera or ballet, his mere presence causes quite a stir.”

Carlos’ eyes return to the paper in front of him, his gaze tracing a path over the prince’s nose and settling at the elegant curve of his lips.

“You must win his favor before anyone else has the chance,” his cousin says. “The first visit in a few weeks’ time will be vital. We can afford no mistakes. But always remember, you are first and foremost a Sainz. Do not forget the reason behind all of this, no matter how ‘pretty’ his face.”

Carlos tries to bite back his smirk, but likely fails from the look his cousin sends him.

“Charm him, Carlos. Make him smile. God knows you are good at that. The rest will be up to fate.”

[parisiterileymoon]

Alastor x gn reader when it's Alastor who fell for reader first, not the other way around. What Alastor likes about reader the most is their intelligence and almost entertainer-man charisma. Reader is very aware of Alastor's crush and they like to keep him on his toes on whether or not they like him back (they do)

OHHH BOY!!! YES!!! I decided reader is a silent movie actor from the early days of television since “entertainer man” reminded me of it

~~

You sat in the common room of the hotel, chatting up some random sinner that had wandered in for sanctuary. Suddenly, Alastor pops in, likely to annoy husker. “Alastor! Mon ami!” You shout in his general direction, speaking French because of the fact you remembered his hailing from the French quarter of New Orleans. Alastor, slightly caught off guard, turns around and greets you. “Ah, (____)! Hello my friend.” You roll off the couch into a pose(the one where your head is propped up by your fist and your leg bent and your foot on your knee). “What brings you out of your swamp cave?” You spring to your feet cartoonishly and walk over to him, resting your arm on the wall beside him. He avoids eye contact and the usual static that accompanies him crescendos. “Why, I was just going for a stroll, my dear! Care to join me?” You pull away from the wall and turn around on the ball of your foot. “Oh, I don’t know! I was just planning on staying in and reading.” Technically not a lie, you did quite enjoy reading and you WERE planning on staying in, but at this point you were teasing him. “Well I could join you! A bit of quality time never hurt anyone, hm~?” He draws out the /mm/, sounding a bit silly. You smile and respond “oh, I don’t want to keep you from your plans. I suppose I could join you!” You smile and he…well his face doesn’t really change. You proceed to take a stroll. As you step off the curve to an un-sidewalked street and roll forward, Charlie Chaplin style. “Well arnt you the agile one?” “I pride myself on it, dear!” This catches him off guard. Dear? Oh! “Oh Alastor, my friend, looks like we’ve arrived at Rosie’s!” Oh. Friendzoned. Damn. “Hmh, it seems we have.” “Something wrong, Al?” You smile up at him brightly. He blushes. visibility, actually, blushes. That’s actually quite cute. “Oh, blushing?” He clears his throat. “I HONESTLY don’t know why you would say that.” You place your hands over his on his cane/staff thing and slllooowwwly lean up at him…only to get interrupted by Rosie. “ROSIE! How are you, you absolute DOLL!” DAMN, FOILED AGAIN! Next time.

~~

This was so fun to write thanks for the req Andrea :D <3/platonic

[fandoms-in-law]

Ophelia's Son: Addams Visiting

Author's note: I'm not going to let Cleopatra actually visit Hawkins. I'm pretty sure the Party would immediately kill her. Also I do have more ideas to play with in this world so I'm not saying it's over forever, just for now.

Summary: A storm is forecast for Hawkins so what better time for the Addams Family to come and visit

Continuing on from Ophelia's Son Smoking What Will Grow and Abigail

/\

There was a storm due. Steve had been debating since hearing about it whether he should invite everyone over for a sleepover or just prepare to drive through the storm fetching anyone who got upset. Robin and Eddie had already invited themselves over and had been laughing together about his worrying.

The knock at the door stopped the laughter and had them all glancing to the closet he’d stored the nail bat in. Steve chuckled at the realisation they’d all done it and went to answer the door without grabbing it.

“Hello, um, Aunt Morticia and everyone. Come in. I didn’t know you were visiting.” Steve blinked at the half dozen people stood on his doorstep, including the giant carrying all the suitcases.

“Good lad, Steve. We saw the weather forecast and simply had to come.” Gomez greeted, shaking his hand rapidly before he’d held it out. “Lurch will bring everything in but you’ve got some wonderfully ominous woods Wednesday was begging to explore on the drive through. Hope you don’t mind us arriving then going out for a walk immediately.”

“In a storm?” Eddie asked, sceptically.

Morticia beamed at him, “Of course. What better weather. And the moon is full too which is wonderful for the skin when it spears through.”

“We’ll prepare rooms for you all while you explore then.” Steve agreed easily, letting Lurch past.

He would definitely need more blankets if the party needed comfort through the storm now, but extra company wasn’t a bad thing at all.

/\

Morticia had been close to frowning as she took in the Harrington house, but forced a smile for Steve, saying, “Oh it’s got a Je ne sais quoi about it, charmingly but far too bland.”

“Tish! That’s French!” Gomez stumbled out of his chair ceasing her arm to start ravishing it.

After a moment of watching this Steve looked away a little awkwardly, “Um, I’ve set up spare rooms for you. Yours is top of the stairs, second to the right. If you want privacy or, you know.”

“Much obliged,” Gomez agreed, now carrying Morticia up the stairs, kissing the back of her neck when he could. “We’ll talk later.”

“Steve, remind me never to speak anything other than English around any and all Addams’s from now on.” Robin asked after they’d heard the door shut. Granmama’s insistence that they’re in love over some Russian made a lot more sense if that was Gomez’s reaction to French. She did not want to test if it applied to other people speaking foreign languages or not.

Steve glanced at her, smirking, “I might be suffocating you if you do. Just to avoid whatever love dust is.” He snickered to hear Eddie’s yelp as he’d been finishing off the rooms somehow.

“Glad we agree.” She nodded briskly, “Now how are we going to make the kids witness that so they’ll stop trying to set us up?”

“I’ve got some French cook books I think,” He said after a moment, deciding to ignore the possibility of it occurring that night or just because of the kids nosiness about his relatives now, "Could do a family dinner.”

“Perfect.”

In the reactions of his Aunt and Uncle Steve had momentarily forgotten that there were also two kids staying with him. Granted they’d both quickly gone to entertain themselves and each other but he was usually more alert over anyone younger given his kids likelihood to get into deadly situations.

He was reminded of them by Pugsley coming through frowning. “Cousin Steve, you don’t have any tunnels yet.”

“No Pugsley, I’ve not found any.” He answered mostly hoping he wasn’t about to be told about Upside Down tunnels again. Having it happen once with Dustin was beyond enough/

“We’ll start making them now.” Wednesday offered, climbing out of the closet, cuddling a headless doll and his nail-bat. “Any pipes to avoid?”

Steve reached to take the nail-bat back, sighing, “Try the office for house plans cause I don’t know.”

“Thank you.” Robin shared a glance at him as the kids ran off. Neither had to speak to know they were both wondering if kids really were just looking for ways to die all the time and how neither of them had done that.

/\

The storm passed without any of the Party asking for comfort beyond radio confirmation everyone was okay and Steve now wished it was still going.

Gomez had declared after breakfast that it was time he got Steve acquainted with Zen Yogi and flipped into a headstand.

“That will hurt my flowers. Are there any other poses?” Steve asked, hand going to his hair and the sunflowers that he’d kept growing through the few experiments they’d done since the first one.

“Well, yes, but this is the most important one to master.” Gomez genially explained, somewhere he’d gotten a newspaper to read and had pulled a cigar out of his pocket, already lit somehow. “At least try it once. It’s wonderful for inner strength building.”

Eddie laughed, “Steve does need to work on his core muscles.”

“Nope, no more jokes like that.” Steve knelt, eyes narrowed as he worried over the flowers he was increasingly fond of. “If it damages my flowers, I’m stopping.”

He had done a few headstands before but not often so took a moment to get stable, during which Morticia clapped her hands together with a joyful noise, “Wonderful and if I may say, I’m thrilled to see such variety of plants growing. Ophelia always stayed so limited with daisies when there are much more delightful plants.”

Her warm tone had something in Steve relaxing, a worry they’d dislike or judge him over the flowers dissolving. “It’s become an experiment for the kids, testing what will grow. I’m pretty sure Dustin has theories over what should grow well in brains as well as what soil type my head it.”

“Gardeners?” Morticia sounded pleasantly surprised about the experiments. “Oh I wish I’d known. I’d have brought Cleopatra with us. She is a dear vine.”

“Maybe if you visit again you could bring her.” Steve decided not to question a plant being spoken about like a person. After all some of the ones growing on his head definitely felt like that to him now.

He came out of the headstand when the conversation seemed to have ended, immediately checking the hallway mirror to see if the plants and flowers were okay. Seeing they were he relaxed and moved to curl up between Robin and Eddie for the rest of the afternoon.

[solkwan]

Wonwoo suddenly shares his location with you.

He was in the middle of a park.

He texts something about going on a date. An off handed comment about how he’s having a good time.

He’s in the middle of tour. . . . And he’s on a date?

You think, ’have I not suffered enough? not only did I lose you, now I have i watch you fall for another?’

He tells you about the long walk he just took through the park.

He says, “the trail was longer than expected,”

You reply, “.”

And you turn your read receipts off. Having had them on for him so long ago.

Desperately, you start looking for any evidence he’s on an actual date.

Turns out, it’s a date w his members. A simple text from hoshi confirms it. He answers your sneaky text without any hesitation and he unsuspectingly tells you the park him and his members are at is very nice.

The relief that floods your body is embarrassing, to say the least.

Then you think, ’is Wonwoo trying to make you jealous? Couldn’t possibly be, right? What could he possibly gain from lying to you?’

He keeps telling you about the park.

You text, “wonwoo.” And “stop.”

Suddenly, “why did you like me?”

His true thoughts linger in the air. ‘What was so special about him?’

Unspoken and doubtful.

You ignore it at first. It’s been months. You’re over him. You’ve spent the better half of the past year struggling with your feelings. With your loss. Your best friend, no longer able to call him that. You lost Wonwoo.

And you have this thought and text it.

“doesn’t matter. doesn’t change what happened,”

Wonwoo immediately reads it and that’s that.

But his text racks your brain. You think. And eventually, hours later—you reply.

“You’re kind. It’s what got me first. It was the way you remembered the little things—my lunch orders, important dates, my favorite bands.”

Your kindness went beyond words. I was always grateful to see you. You made my day without knowing it. I was comforted by the mere thought of you. You, who treated others so sweetly. You, who spoke softly, but never hesitated to speak your truth. You were confident, but always humble. You, who I saw in your suffering and you let me in,”

Made my heart constrict in my chest to the point it started hurting,”

Your eyes twinkled, even if you didn’t know it,”

The way you looked at me, I was able to convince myself you felt the same. Those nights we spent under the stars, tracing constellations with our fingers, laying next to each other, your phone playing whatever song you knew I was obsessed with at that time. Your smile permanently etched into my mind. You emitted more warmth than any blanket ever could provide. Your happiness was my own,”

And having you? Being by your side? Even if it was just at the ends of my day?”

God, it was more than I could ever ask for”

I knew you didn’t feel the same way. You were starting to drift from me. But, I knew I couldn’t keep It within myself for any longer. I had to tell you the truth. I had to come clean,”

Wonwoo, I loved you. More than I could ever express with my words. More than you or anyone could ever imagine. I didn’t care that you always saw me as a second priority, that you never put me first,”

I was happy to have you in any way I could. That’s how I knew I would never recover from this unrequited love. Recognizing that, and saying it aloud, nearly killed me. The pain in my chest whenever I saw you started to spread to the rest of my body,”

My mind. It racked for an explanation and it accepted excuse after excuse. It told me lies,”

Wonwoo I loved you and even if that hurt me, especially so, I was so terrified of losing you that I pushed that love deep within me. Hidden. Always lurking,”

But the thing about love is it can never be hidden for very long,”

You pause. He’s reading text after text. Your messages are full of typos and rushed commas. Each bubble changes from delivered to read. You don’t care. You need to say this now or you’re afraid you never will.

“The thought of having you for the rest of my life lingered in me. I wanted to see your glowing. I wanted your light in my life. I wanted every side of you. You were more than a love to me. You were you, and that’s why I loved you,”

And he leaves you with those thoughts and never replies back.

Pain. It’s all you feel. Disappointment. Embarrassment. Hate. You hate him. You hate him for bringing these feelings up after so long. If you had just talked it out then, would things have been different?

You fall asleep dreaming about the stars that night.

I keep having dreams where Wonwoo and I are exes. Wrote this after waking up from another dream. Proofread on the train. Is it possible to hurt from something you never had? I’m not sure. But the ache that lingers in my chest after I wake up? Yeah, I’d believe it.

[outrunningthedark]

Sorry to anyone who love him, but I swear my problem with Oliver started like the only time he actually talked about Lou and how he was having fun on Twitter, because he also said something among the line of "previous li felt like they weren't treat right" (I don't remember the exact quote) and I was like ??? They didn't have to feel anything, they just were aware of all the horrible things b*ddies were saying about them if not directly to them

📢 LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK!

Nobody really started looking at Oliver funny until he said this in reference to a question about how Lou was handling the inevitable negativity:

“The Buddie fans… It’s been difficult for some actresses on the show before. I know that they’ve felt, sometimes, unfairly treated. Whether or not it was unfair, I don’t speak to that, but I do know it was something they had difficulty with.”

There he was. Admitting the relentless harassment made it hard for the actresses on the show.

And as if realizing he knew they were struggling and didn’t speak up wasn’t awkward enough, Oliver decided he shouldn’t even be the one to say they didn’t deserve it!

My guy, Megan might have gotten in a Twitter fight, but it’s because she was getting attacked the second she stepped foot on that set in season four.

And Arielle? Annelise? What did they do, exactly? Accept a job opportunity? Follow a script?

(And let me just remind people you can feel however you want to feel about BuckLucy while ALSO acknowledging that the show gave Arielle a false sense of security from the start by assuming the kissing scene would be nbd. Had her doing interviews as if Lucy was gonna be the next main ffs.)

Mind you, the person he gave that quote to admitted in the interview they’re a Buddie shipper, so here we have more evidence that Oliver says things he thinks won’t make the majority of his fan base angry with him. Because he can’t handle criticism. Which he just proved again by only opening his mouth after fans called him out on his attitude towards the breakup. 😑

Literally no one cares if Oliver actually likes Lou! They care that he’s a grown ass man who does things that make his fan base feel validated/vindicated because he doesn’t want to be the one they’re upset with!