#i lied i actually enjoyed reading it a lot haha

[zzeu]

Mdrr en plus de 5 ans j'ai jamais rien fait d'autre ici que rebloguer des trucs pour les retrouver fastoche hmmm

Qqn serait intéressé de lire mes avis sur des bouquins ou des films tranquilou ? Je garantis pas que ça sera un tour de force intellectuel hein, globalement jme fais aspirer par des œuvres et jme sens dépassé.

Anyway j'ai fini de lire Effi Briest ajd et c'est pas mon roman pref du tout mais le sous-texte sur l'Aufklärung, l'autonomie oder so was ähnliches, le fait qu'Effi aspire à cette autonomie et est punie en csq, la manière qu'a tout le monde de l'infantiliser en permanence puis de la considérer comme de plus en plus adulte à mesure que sa relation adultère avec Crampas (le nom est pas anodin, le lien avec le Krampus, la culpabilité und so weiter) progresse, ça m'a plu malgré tout. Un peu long à lire mais tkrl.

J'avoue que ce qui m'a motivé à le lire c'est l'adaptation qu'en a fait Fassbinder, dont j'ai vu quelques extraits. Hâte d'avoir le temps de le regarder en entier, les plans avec les objets qui coincent Effi dans des sortes de cadres m'ont attrapé par les yeux et j'y pense tout le temps depuis des mois.

Nächtes mal jvais parler des films que jsuis allé voir au ciné ce mois-ci ♡

[tempo-takoyaki]

Merry Christmas!! I hope you all have a wonderful day <3

EDIT: I accidentally posted this too early but know this illustration is referring to a previous comic if you'd like to read it ! [Christmas 2023]

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: angst, yearning, humor, fluff, journalist!reader, established relationship

word count: 13.2k

There’s a lot of things you’d like to do differently in life. And the weeks leading up to that night is one of them.

inspired by doomsday, lizzy mcalpine , true blue, boygenius , cool about it, boygenius !

cherry here!… hello there. sooo this was supposed to go up a few days ago, but silly me scheduled the wrong date, haha, so this is me formally apologizing for that. on a more lighter note: i’m so excited for you guys to read this one considering this is the re-written version of ‘method acting’ if you guys even remember the original version. love u all very much, and enjoyyy :)

From his boyish smile, to his dominant smirk—you knew it all. 

The way it would slowly start to spread, but always ended with a dimple. You loved many things in life—many, many things—but nothing comes close to him. From the very start, he’s been gentle. A gentle giant, you’d sometimes joke with a teasing voice, to which he’d roll his eyes yet never deny. 

The way he’d start every sentence with—honey—and end with—I love you. The way he’d cradle your face between his hands, kissing the corner of your mouth first before pressing down completely. The way he’d translate for you with all the patience in the world. Everything about him had been so easy to learn, so easy to love.

But here, in a room, staring at each other, you begin to wonder if you ever knew him at all. Because suddenly you don’t know what the frown on his face means. What the furrowed brows with the pinched expression interpret to. You don’t know any of it. 

Why are you so surprised, though?

You caused this, anyways.

-

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you don’t know how to use a USB, Lis. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know—tech savvy?” 

Lissie aims a harsh glare before tapping her nail against the computer screen as if that might make the process a whole lot quicker. “So what? I lied on my resume. Everybody does it.”

You chuckle. “Who even uses USB’s nowadays?”

“Apparently Grandpa Will. Oh, yay, it's done!” She shimmies. “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” With that, she zips down the paddock without a second glance. You sigh, gathering your stuff and making your way down the busy crowd, heading straight towards Ferrari Hospitality. 

He’s on his computer when you first walk in, keys clicking. He nibbles on his bottom lip, knits his dark brows like he’s in pain. As soon as you tap your finger against the wall, he perks up, all his interest suddenly gone. He grins. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Lis,” you respond, claiming a seat next to him. 

The Monegasque hums, leaning in to kiss your lips swiftly. “Thank you, Elisabella.” You giggle, sneaking a quick peek at his open screen. “Whatcha’ workin’ on? Wait—let me guess. You’re getting your marriage license annulled?”

“To be with you, yes,” he agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “How do you think Joris is going to take it?”

A playful shrug. “He’s just going to have to accept it, no?”

“I suppose.” Snapping the computer shut, he fixes himself, head pressed softly against your lap, closing his eyes. The sight of his even breaths and curved nose makes you smile as you start threading your fingers through his hair. He sighs, tense shoulders instantly rolling back. “Journling, and whatnot. It’s a habit that has a near expiration date, for sure, but is quite nice as of now.”

And though he can’t see you, your neat brows raise up in surprise. “Journaling on an electronic device? Why not an actual journal? You know—something authentic. I actually know of a place back in Portland where they sell some cute ones, ver—”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for security.” A beat. “I’d lose it in a week, and we don’t want that happening, now do we? My laptop works just fine. Plus, I feel more at peace knowing it’s not something I will just leave behind.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you declare, enjoying the way his lips twist with a childlike snarl. “Anyways, I’m glad you’ve picked up on a new hobby. It’s good for you, Charlie.”

“Learned from the best.” You blush. “By the way, media shouldn’t last longer than an hour? Wanna go out?”

“Aren’t you tired?” you question, forcing his eyelids open as he squirms, pushing your hand away.

“A little. But I still want to do something with you.”

A tired sigh. “Cute, but I can’t. Lissie and William are out for today, so it’s just me, which means I have to conduct all the interviews by myself.”

The brunette bats an eye. “Why?”

“She forgot she had a deadline—hence why I was busy helping her—and Will still has to look it over. They have to send it in by midnight and it’s—it’s a lot.”

“Why couldn’t she just email it?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you screech, causing him to flinch and squeeze his eyes. Sheepishly, you pat his head. “He insisted on a USB. Says he wants all work done like the olden days.”

“That sucks,” he mumbles. “And who even uses USB’s nowadays? They’re so outdated.”

“That’s what I’m—” You stop, mid-sentence, lowering your voice when he sits up and scoots away. “Saying,” you finish, whispering. You purse your lips, sending a slight grimace. “You get it.”

Charles nods, standing up and placing his laptop into his duffel bag. “I’ll come back and pick you up, yeah? Meanwhile, I can maybe cook something for us.”

“Honey,” you coo. “I love you, but please don’t.” His face drops. What the fuck? You giggle. “How about take-out?”

“How about,” he mutters, stiff as a statue when you press your lips down onto his jaw, but quickly melts. “Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” Another peck. “I’ll call you!”

-

If you remember—and you do remember—you fell in love with writing ever since you watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a reset for you because before that you had seriously considered going to law. At first, you started with column writing in your school's newspaper. No one ever read it, you’d always find it on the floor after being trampled on, but you never cared. 

Soon after, you started publishing smaller pieces here and there on your fashion blog that has since been taken down, but that was the moment you knew. Thing was, you wanted to nurture this into a career, you really did, but nothing to do with fashion, rather sports. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that every Sunday your Grandpa would beg for you to come over to his house and watch the races with him. They were extremely boring at first. Who willingly drives for roughly two hours in loops? Then, it clicked. Everything changed and you were enthralled. 

After that, all you knew was that you wanted it bad. It was hard, studying over time in order to get done quickly and just start working, but it was well worth it. You met Lis the same year she started working with Formula One, so you both figured a lot of things out together, and for two years, it was just you and her, interviewing and writing about the drivers on the grid.

But he noticed you both years ago.

He first noticed the burn on the back of your left leg. He initially thought it was a band-aid by the way it healed, but later found out you had burned yourself with a curling iron back in highschool when you were rushing to get your senior pictures taken. Then he noticed your eyes and the way they always had a glimmer to them, even if something wasn't going your way. He respected the hell out of you after that.

 How do you do that? 

You freeze. Do what?

Stay so…so—optimistic. Happy, I suppose.

You laughed then, and he saw the way your hair fell over your shoulder like a silk curtain. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so stuck up on that. It’s all a facade. They way you see me—it’s not real.

Believe me, I don’t think you’re real.

You blush, looking back down at your journal where you’ve been too busy scribbling prior to his question. You just have to ignore them sometimes, you know? Remind yourself that they don’t know you and you don’t know them. Trust me, it helps.

And after that, you two never stopped talking. 

Whether it was about work, or perhaps even the weather, you two always had something going on. Something everyone noticed, but never brought up. And at one point, you confessed your next dream.

Journalist of the Year, he repeated, a goofy smile slowly itching his skin. Yeah, I can see that.

It’s not that easy, though, you retort, exhaling heavily. I mean, I’ve been doing this for quite a while now and I haven’t even been considered once, which is fine, maybe I’m not good enough, but maybe it’s also time to…I don’t know—give up?

He kept quiet, kept his eyes focused on you, and frowned. If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have. 

Pft, you scoff. Nah. Not this. It’s nearly unattainable for someone like me. Even Lissie has won, and we’ve been here for the same amount of years. Now I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, but that just comes to show that there’s always someone better. And I’m just here. You look up. It’s okay, you can laugh.

A beat. I could be a hypocrite to tell you that it’s not good to measure how talented you are or how talented you can be based on some award, but Jesus Chrsit, I do the same thing. I understand. And it’s because I understand that I’m telling you to keep working hard and prove yourself to them. You have it in you—I’ve known ever since we met. You smile. Your time will come, yeah?

And for the first time: you believed it. 

A nod. Thanks, Charles. Yours will too.

About a month later, you two started officially dating. It almost seemed too good to be true at times, but wherever he looked for you in the crowd, you knew it just had to be. 

But the start of your relationship was also the end of something else.

Interviews and articles? 

He nods. Right. None of that.

You follow his actions, nodding numbly as you blink. So, no more working together? Because you want me to have a fair shot?

Yes, he confirmed. I just don’t want you to be nominated—because it’s only a matter of time, I have a feeling—and feel as if they picked you simply because of your dating status. 

Who’s going to do all of that, then? 

There’s plenty of other reporters. Lissie? Will? Maybe even Natalie. He took a step closer, grabbing your hands gently. What I’m trying to say is that I want you to feel accomplished. That what you did was simply because of your work, and not having to do with your connections because trust me, that doesn’t feel good.

But I love working with you. You give his hand a squeeze, tilting your head and smiling sadly. You’re my favorite person to write about and talk to…

And he genuinely seemed to be pained by your words, wincing.

But you suck it up because you know he’s right. I’ll always be your favorite?

Only the best.

A hum. Alright then. You take a step back, extending your hand for a professional handshake. He smiles, taking it and giving it a good tug.

 It was nice working with you, Mr. Leclerc.

-

“I’ll never understand,” Lissie starts, pressing the elevator button for the twenty-fifth floor and chewing on a licorice. “Why you two ever create such a stupid rule like that?” A hard chew. “All I’m saying is that it could have definitely helped you out a whole lot. You probably would have won by now.”

You roll your eyes, but not without thinking how she might be right. You’ve definitely wondered about a world in which you two hadn’t taken this approach, and while it would have been nice, you also know that it would have felt a little less special knowing that being a nepo to Charles had something to do with it. Which is most likely what would have happened, let’s be completely honest here. 

“You came to this arrangement, what? Twenty years ago, maybe fourty? And it’s not to be rude, but you haven't been nominated, so was this really worth it if it hasn’t made much of a difference?”

“Okay,” you grunt, ripping the red candy away from her and throwing it into the nearby trash as soon as you step out of the elevator. She pouts, following along. “I think we get it, I fucked up, very funny.”

“No,” she hums. “I never said you did, I was simply thinking, that's all.” You scoff. “But whatever. I have a feeling this is it. You definitely have it in the bag. They’d be crazy not to add you for a fourth time!”

Spinning, you smile bitterly at the Brit girl. She gulps. “Thank you, Lis, your mild support is very much appreciated.”

You turn back around, walking faster.

“Sheesh, sorry,” she hisses, entering the familiar office with a lost expression.

Carly, your manager runs over, practically jumping onto you and hugging you tight. “Lis, close the door!” You groan at the loud sound against your ear, but she's none the wiser, already embracing you harder. “You did it!”

“I told you!” Lissie shoots smugly.

You freeze, heart racing. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying—”

“Why would she be lying?”

Letting go, Carly lets out a delirious laugh. “Everything—all of it—has finally paid off. You did it, you’re on the list!”

“Holy shit,” you whisper in disbelief, playing with your necklace as you pace the spacious office. Lissie and Carly both grin at each other from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically. You come to a halt. “Are you making this up because I said I would kill myself if I didn’t make it this year because, for your information, I was totally kidding!”

“It’s not a joke,” the redhead squeals, jumping again. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I am too!” Lissie shrieks, running and kissing you face as you try your best to swat her away even though you’re laughing. “Even after what I said in the elevator, I knew this shit was the real deal this time! Didn’t I tell you? Carly, I told her.” She twirls you, making you grin harder.  “You won!”

“Okay, let's touch some grass, ladies,” Carly cuts in. “We can’t forget that this is just a nomination and that there’s still work that needs to be done in order to secure our best chances.”

“Right,” you respond, elegantly fixing yourself and nodding up and down. You freeze. “Wait, what work? I thought this was it?”

Carly shakes her head. “Oh honey, we’re just getting started.” A pause. “You have to write an article.”

“I am—confused. What do you mean by article?”

The Brit takes a seat in a nearby chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s their one and only requirement. Show them why they should pick you.”

Carly nods, red hair bouncing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. You’re as talented as they come. Just do what you do, but…better!”

Color drains your face as you go back to pacing. “What do you mean better? This is all I got! There’s nothing left to show, oh God—”

“What are you talking about?” your manager yelps. “There’s always more!”

“Exactly,” Lissie hums, somehow munching on another piece of candy. “There’s always—that, yeah. More.”

Your eye twitches. “Okay, you already went through this and won. How did you do it?”

She pouts, tapping the licorice against her lips before clicking her fingers. “I wrote my piece on fashion and how it’s made its way into Formula One. Wasn’t even that hard. Well. Shouldn't be. Write what you know and it’ll come to ya, they say. Or maybe they don’t, but definitely still do that.”

Your shoulders drop, plopping down next to her and placing a pillow over your face. “Fuck. That’s genius.” It is, isn’t it? she mumbles, slowly chewing in deep thought. Screaming into the pillow, you feel the frustration you didn’t have a second ago finally erupt. “What am I going to do?”

“Sweetheart,” Carly starts, forearms pressed against her glass desk, and stern eyes trained onto you. “You have got to be one of the most raw writers I have ever worked with.” A beat. “Sorry, Lis.” 

“Screw you,” she snarls, focusing on her phone now. 

Your manager sighs, rubbing her temples. “And please take that as a compliment because it is. You don’t hold back, and you tell it how it is. That’s what makes you one of the best! And if it weren’t for you wanting this, I would have definitely sent an angry email on your behalf because you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Wow,” the Brit muttered, raising her dark brows. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cringing. “But you’ve won already, Lis, and we supported you, and now…” She faces you again with soft eyes. “We’re doing this for you. You got it, m’kay?”

“But—” your voice cuts off as you blink rapidly, losing focus with the thought of failing, imprinting itself into the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know what to write about, which is weird because I always have an idea, at least. That’s simply a bad sign, that much I know.”

“It’s only bad if you think it is,” Lissie says, clicking her phone off and smiling gently. “But in all honesty, I think it’s actually quite good. That means you know what's at stake, and you know you have to make this the best goddamn article in your entire life.” A beat. “Write what you know, I’m telling you.”

“What she said,” Carly squeaks cheerfully, eyes crinkling as she starts pouring champagne and handing them one by one. “But just so you know, we have to get this in by October thirteenth because they make their decision by the sixteenth.”

“But that’s Charles’ birthday week,” you wail, rubbing your eyes harshly. “Fucking hell—”

“He’ll understand,” Lissie cuts you off, clicking her glass against Carly’s who shrugs, sipping neatly. “All of us know he will.”

“Okay then,” you whisper slowly. You curl your hand tighter against the glass. “Cheers?”

“Cheers, mate!”

-

Entering his Monaco flat, Charles lets out a tired sigh, taking his shoes off and flinging his keys to the nearby coffee table. The loud thud makes him flinch before running over hurriedly. A large scratch lays across the rich wood as he panics, kneeling down to inspect it carefully.

“Are you serious, Charlie?” he hears over his shoulder, jumping to find you with a frown on your lips and hands on your hips. “That was a gift!”

“I’m sorry!” he squeaks. “From your Grandpa, I know, I’m sorry!”

You let out a breath, shrugging. “It’s fine. How was your day?”

He eyes you suspiciously once before getting closer to you and kissing you hello. “Eh. Decent. Yours?”

Plump lips twist before flattening back out. “Decent.”

He squints, noticing the way you play with your necklace. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you answer quickly. Defensively.

His brows furrow deeper. “Blow me.”

“Blow you?”

“Yes. Right here, right now—blow me.” He demonstrates, letting out a breath as if taking a breathalyzer test. 

You let out a sore laugh, rolling your heels as you stumble back. What? Your laughing stops, though tears run down your face as you try to get your words out. “You mean breathe out, not blow you.” Your giggles pick up once again, making him blush deep red. “God, you need to learn a bit more proper english.”

He looks away, cringing at the sound of his voice replaying, and then turning with a stoic face. “Don’t change the subject.” A pause. “Breathe out.”

You freeze. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.” “I’m not going to do it.”

“Just do it,” he presses harder.

You glare. “No. I’m not.”

Taking one last glance, he leaps forward with zero warning and starts tickling you, making your squeal. Stop! “Breathe!” I am breathing, you twat! “Blow me—God damn it! Whatever! Blow! Breathe! Blow!” 

“Fine, fine, just stop!” you screech, giggles coming to an end as he nods and stares down at you, which by now, you’re laid down on the couch with him towering over. You blush, breathing out lightly, nearly nothing. He rolls his eyes. Blow me harder. “Blow me harder,” you mimic, copying his accent. 

He groans. “You get what I’m saying—”

“I don’t, though,” you joke, laughing harder. As soon as your eyes shut, he smiles down at you affectionately, but when they open again, he reverts his lips back into a straight line. Your lips wobble playfully. Letting out a big breath, he whiffs strongly. “Gross, Cha!”

“You smell like strawberry sorbet, relax.” A beat. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

“Okay, this is getting really kinky.”

He aims for a deadpan expression. 

Rolling your eyes, you do as you're told and he lets out a scream. “What the fuck!”

“It’s red!”

“No duh, Charles!”

“Strawberry sorbet. The last pint. You ate it all, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So that's a yes.”

You frown.

“And we always share, but when we don’t it’s because you’re going through something and you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, we get it,” you grunt, pushing him off as you sit up. He does the same, staring at you, concerned. “By the way, does that upset you?”

“The ice cream? Nah.”

You nod, then yawn. “Why do you have to be so attentive?”

“Because I love you.”

You smile. “I made it onto the list.”

“The list?”

“The list.”

A wide grin dances across his pink lips as he jumps onto the coach, up and down, making you bounce and stare up with a soft look. “The list! Thee list. Holy crap, congratulations, honey!” Landing on the ground, he hugs you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it over and over. “You smell nice—congrats—is that citrus—wait, this smells really nice—”

“It is citrus,” you giggle as he separates from you. “And thanks. It means the most coming from you.”

Silence takes over for a second or two before his brows knit neatly. “What’s wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” They raise up higher. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared.”

Tugging you closer to his chest, he drags so you two are laying back down. You close your eyes at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you like some blanket. “About what? You totally got this.”

“Hmph. It’s just that, I, uh. I have to write an article on a topic of my choice, and—I. Don’t know? I have no clue what to write about.”

Listening attentively, he doesn’t interrupt as your words begin to pour out like a prayer. He doesn’t even interrupt when you say something along the lines of being “at best—mediocre”, even though he really wanted to. You scoff. “It’s a silly problem to have, I’m well aware, but…it’s the truth.”

The Monegasque picks your breathing patterns, mindlessly copying as you cuddle him. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swiftly look up, cheek pressed against his heart beat. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

What do you want him to say? Your lips open aimlessly, then close forcefully. 

He grabs a nearby blacket, covering you both and hugging you the same he’s seen you hug your teddy bear. “I think you need to have a little bit more faith. In yourself, that is. Because your mind…” Green eyes connect with yours as your breath comes to a strong halt. He tends to make your body react that way, quite often. He sends a simple grin. Dimples and all.

“It's the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

-

Abu Dhabi 2021.

It’s been talked about too much already.

Spain 2016.

You’re kidding, right?

Fine. Azerbaijan 2018—

You let out a muffled scream. “Pierre, no! I need something better.”

“Better than all that drama?” he dead pans, genuinely confused as to why his ideas are being shut down.

You exhale, hair flying outward. “I love it too, but I need something new. Unheard of.”

The Frenchman pauses, curling a brow. “I’ve gone blank.”

You bite down on your tongue, shrugging it off. “It’s okay. I should probably come up with my own topic, anyways.”

Getting up, you wave goodbye and make your way to the ice cream truck that’s been rented out for the weekend. Smartest investment, you think to yourself as you twirl your tongue around the lavender spoon. 

“This time I really do mean it—blow me.”

Squinting up at the sun—which so happens to be behind Charles like a halo—you chuckle, feeding him a spoonful. “Good, no?”

“Delicious,” he hums, going in for another. “Have you tried the funnel cakes?” They have funnel cakes? you squeal, eyes shining. He nods. “Want one?”

You deflate. “Later.”

Watching the crowd walk by, you two sit there, switching turns and enjoying each other's company. It’s amazing how no one comes up to Charles, either. Not that he would mind, but it’s definitely a nice surprise. Glancing over, he hands the spoon back to you. “Come up with something?”

“I have a few ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Pistachio ice cream melts away faster. “I told Pierre to leave you alone, I hope he didn’t bother you too much.”

“He’s actually the reason why I have these ideas. Don’t let him know, though, I would never live it down.”

Watercolor eyes go wide. “Really? Pierre actually helped?”

“Weird, huh?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Don’t stress out too much, honey. You still have time.”

You purse your lips. “But the sooner I figure it, the sooner I can start and just focus, and do the proper research and try and—”

“You have time,” he reaffirms with a knowing look. You cock your head and he sends a sly grin. “Plenty.”

“Plenty,” you copy as he nods along. Extending his arm, he signals to the spoon. You shake your head. “You can have the rest.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

-

Write what you know. Write. What. You. Know.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Biting down on your pen, you’re spaced out, staring at the picture frame. In it, Charles and Carlos smile, you can tell, behind their helmets. While the Monegasque’s eyes crinkle sweetly, the Spaniards are dilated and wide. Both nice, but nothing beats those green eyes. 

You can slowly feel your sanity slipping away, day by day. There’d be times where you thought you had it figured out, but then you’d bring it up and Lissie would smile and say—

“Yes! Stick to that one! Start it. Right now.”

It wouldn’t seem genuine because you know she just wanted you to get it done given it’s due in less than two weeks. And even though it was good, it wasn’t good enough. 

“I’m just going to brainstorm a few more ideas.”

She’d given up, mumbling beneath her breath and grabbing her keynotes and headed to her meeting. Well, technically it was your meeting too, but again. Time crunch.

Hence, why you’re admiring the picture and thinking harder than you were a minute ago. The door slides open then, the two Ferrari drivers back from their media duties. You rip your gaze away as soon as they make their way closer. “How does one fake their own disappearance?”

“Oi,” the brown eyed boy warns, toothy grin expanding. “Good question, though.”

“Oi, you,” your boyfriend warns back, glaring at his teammate. “At this point, I’m sure she’d go through with it.” He turns to you. “Honey, you’ve got to decide already, it can’t be that hard.”

“I know that!” you burst out, ears burning as you avoid their eyes. “But there’s just so much! I don’t want to jump the gun and make a mistake, is all.”

Carlos juts his lip, then rolls his jaw. “If only you took someone’s very good proposition.”

A scoff. “I wasn’t going to write about Papaya Rules, Chili.”

“It would’ve been so good, though!” A beat. “What about—”

“Nor multi-21.”

His expression drops, along with his shoulders, and strolls away, flipping you off. I hope you figure it out, then! A low chuckle makes its way as you exhale loudly. “C’mon, what’s the problem this time?”

You bite your lip, brows drawn in together as you gaze back at Charles. “I’m not entirely convinced.”

“Honey…”

“A-and I know I’m running out of time, but I just want it to be perfect!”

He smiles, throwing his arm on your shoulder. “And it will be, but you need a topic.”

“Yeah…” You raise a brow.  “What happened to having ‘plenty’ of time?”

The Monegasque wiggles his brows. “You can’t take up too much advantage.”

-

I’ve decided. 

That’s the lie you settle with because quite frankly, you’re done with the constant questions. If you were going to come up with the best matter to write about, then you need to have a clear head. Carly is over the moon, Lissie is ecstatic, and Charles is proud. 

Great! What’s it going to be about?

It’s a surprise. 

At first, they were all as curious as can be, but later when you insisted that it’d be better that way, they nodded, though the interest was still there. 

Now—with only a week and a half before your due date—you lay, plopped on your stomach, fingers teasing the keyboard as you watch Charles jump into his race suit. You sigh, sitting up. “I think I’m going to stay in here today.”

He fixes the zipper. “Yeah?”

You nod. “That way I can work and watch you.” You point to the T.V. hung up on his room wall. “Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you need to do in order to focus, baby.” A wink. “It’s fine by me.”

They’re in lap sixty out of seventy-five, the last time you check, and your page remains as white as a ghost and as bare as a newborn baby. It’s both amusing and mind-boggling. Groaning, you hit your head with the back of your hand before running it down your face. Then, to make matters worse, your laptop dies.

Shit, you grit as you look around and spot Charles’ placed neatly on top of a nearby chair. Strolling over, you grab and open it, typing in his passcode and signing into your account. A few seconds later, the blank page resurfaces. Blinking slowly, you spot it. 

Notes. 

You take a look around, but really don’t know why since you’re the only one in his motorhome, and then click onto the App, furrowing your brows with concentration. 

Turns out, you really like to read because one after another, you skim through his journal entries without a second thought. Eagerly, might you add. Some things you know, others you don’t, but nevertheless, you’re caught off guard. How sensitive he is and how it portrays in every word. Not only are you amazed, but you’re completely engrossed. 

And it sparks something in you.

With a large grin, the brunette makes his way back to his room, trophy in hand and handshakes and pats on the back all around. Grazie mille, he beams as he makes his way closer, sending a final wave before opening his door. Finding you with his spare helmet over your head, he laughs. You giggle, opening the visor. “That’s one good looking winner!”

He laughs, placing the gold trophy down and enjoying you the way you struggle to take it off. You let out a loud gasp as soon as he assists you, tugging it off. “Shit.” Another gasp. “How do you wear that thing for two hours?” Fixing your hair, you pat it down as you send him a sheepish smile. “Give me a kiss!”

“No thanks. Too sweaty.”

Pouting, you pinch his ear tenderly before he gives in, pressing his lips against yours. “You were amazing out there, Charlie. You really were, I want you to know.”

Green eyes soften as he tries his best to savor this moment. “Only cause you say so.” You giggle, hugging his waist and he drapes his hands over your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head. “How far along were you able to get?”

A hum. “Quite far, actually.”

He lets out a whistle, making your cheeks glow. “Looks like we’re both having a good day.”

“Looks like,” you swoon. “Looks like.”

Tilting your head back, you match with his eyes as he sends a dimpled smile. 

Write what you know, you think to yourself as he leans back down to kiss you. His lips greedily crash against your own as you let out a soft moan, playing with his hair, large hands making their way down to your ass. And you, my dear Charlie…

He groans, shuddering as soon as you grind back against his thigh. You smile, admiring his open mouth.

I know you very well.

-

You feel guilty when you start on your first page, but by the time you make it to your third, you’ve talked yourself out of it. You would explain. As soon as you’re done, before you turn it in, you would explain it all to him. Tell him that this is simply because you love him. How he’s your biggest inspiration, and how this wasn’t you using him, but rather you showing others how amazing he truly is.

He notices it right away—the determination. And he admires you for it because he hasn’t seen you like that ever since your writer’s block. So, he tries not to intrude in moments where you’re on a roll, and instead makes sure to have a bath ready for you. He joins you sometimes, too.

Cracking your fingers, you yawn, exhausted, and stretch like a cat. He chuckles, closing his book like a light thud. “Update?”

“Six pages.”

“Wow. You really got it going on.” You blush. “You deserve something sweet. What do you want?”

“But it’s so late, and you have to be up early tomorrow…”

He rolls his eyes, already grabbing your trench coat. “It’s a bit cold out right now.”

You smile.

It’s not that far of a walk, three miles. After buying you a hot chocolate—with extra whip—he takes your mitten covered hand and leads you out the small coffee shop. By now, not many people are out, so it makes for a calm stroll.

“Shhh—ah,” you hiss, tongue sticking out as your face twists with subtle pain. He laughs, eyes crinkling. Drink slowly, he says, voice laced with humor. “The cool air helps,” you murmur, blowing on the hot drink. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

He shakes his head. “I just wanted you to unwind.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” you coo, enjoying the way his ears turn pink. You giggle. “Why do I feel like you’re thinking about something, though?”

“I am. You.” A gust of wind dances. “Always.”

You purse your lips, taking a slow sip, lipstick painting the white lid. “I’m serious, Cha. You’ve been quiet ever since you got off that phone call two hours ago.” Neat brows knit together with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answers, but it’s too quick for it to be the truth.

Giving his large hand a squeeze, you send a knowing look. His breath hitches. “You can talk to me—”

“Are you almost done with your article?” he asks, obviously changing the topic as he stares up ahead, and if not, down at his shoes. Pink nose twitches. “I miss you, and call me greedy, but I was hoping you’d be done before my birthday, at least, that way we could…I don’t know—” He shrugs. “You’ve just been really busy—which I get why, and I understand—but I miss y-you.”

Wincing, you chew your bottom lip a couple times before letting go. “Almost, but.” His shoulders drop, making your stomach twist. You panic. “I feel like I’m missing something. Like the final bang in order for it to be…” A beat. “I’ll be done before your birthday, you can count on that.”

Round eyes finally flicker up as he nods, a more relaxed look evident. “This makes me sound so needy,” he says. “Which I guess I am, bu—”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off with a reassuring smile. “But please, tell me what’s going on…”

The Monegasque stiffens. Despite walking, you can tell. You can feel it. Also, it doesn’t take a genius to notice. “They’re not renewing Carlos’ contract for next year.”

You stop walking, making him stop too. He’s still holding onto you, rubbing small circles against cashmere. “W-why?”

“Guess.”

Your mind races. The rumors have definitely been swirling—everyone’s heard—but really? “They’re actually doing it?”

He nods.

“Lewis,” you whisper like it the first time you pronounce his name. “This is, uh…wow. I mean, wow.” 

“Yup,” he says, popping the p. “Wow, for sure.” Letting go, he takes a small step back, but still faces you with an uneasy look. “They brought it up as a possibility, but I don’t know why I never thought they’d be capable of…” He grimaces. “I can’t even begin to imagine how Carlos must be feeling.”

“Weren’t they just praising him last time during your guys’ team meeting?” You curl the cup towards your chest. “That’s fucked up.” Charles sighs, pinching the tip of his nose swiftly. Your eyes fill up with concern. “What about you?”

“I got an extension.”

You let out a breath of relief, nodding. “O-okay, okay. That’s good, Charlie, that’s really good.” When he keeps quiet, you pause all movement and blink feverishly. “Why are you upset, then?”

“I’m not,” he answers. “Only worried.” Listening closely, you silently wait for him to continue. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly tired. “It’s just that…he. He’s Lewis,” he finishes like that’s enough explanation.

You curl a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A weak chuckle. “It means he’s better, and the team is going to favor him over me.” A timid shrug. “I get it, though. If anyone can bring a Championship home for the team, it’s going to be him.”

“It’s going to be you.”

“No.” The light in his eyes gave out, slowly and painfully so. “It’s not.”

Berry lips open, then close lamely, analyzing him like the world's biggest mystery. Sternly, you narrow your eyes down like knives. “World Champion?”

He flinches.

You click your tongue. “Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

“What?” he says, puzzled.

You nod. “Why are you giving up so easily, huh?”

Sharp jaw clenches. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a former World Champion, and I’m not.” He chuckles sourly. “It’s really not that difficult to figure out. I mean, I’ve been working for it for so long now, and look at me! I’m nowhere close to being there!”

Silence. Chest heaves. You never let go of your gaze, and he has no other choice than to do the same. He’s not mad at you—not mad at anyone, really—but he’s frustrated. And yeah. Maybe he is giving up the fight, but anyone else who was in his position would too. No one wants to be the laughing stock, no one wants to be compared. 

“Listen to me Charles Leclerc, and listen to me closely because I’m only going to say this once.”

He waits.

“If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.”

Pink lips turn upward as he tilts his head in the slightest of tilts.

Holding his face between your delicate hands, you raise your brows, shivering at the icy air. He can feel your hand vibrate against his skin as he grabs them, brings them up to his mouth, and blows hot air onto them. “I believe in you. Everybody does. Do you believe in that?”

And it takes a moment for him to answer. It takes a moment for it to register. He nods. Sure of himself.

“Only because you do.”

-

“A USB?” He frowns. “I thought you hated those?”

“I do,” you say, combing through your hair, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. “But I feel like this makes it real. Physically turning it in, I mean. It’s dumb, but…” You check the time, shrieking and grabbing your things. “Carly is going to kill me! Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, and then we can go with your family for dinner, or I’ll meet you there, yeah?” You huff. “Red or white wine?”

“Sparkling water,” he ponders. “Maman is trying to get to ‘quit.’ Which is probably not the right way to put it because it’s not like Lorenzo, Arthur, and I are alcoholics.”

“Oh. Alright then, I’ll just get that instead.” Tippy toeing, you peck his cheek briskly, sweet perfume hitting him. “I love you.”

Adoration fills his watercolor eyes. “I love you, too.”

Who knew?

Who knew that’d be the last time you’d hear those words coming from him?

-

Entering the familiar office, you wheeze, crouching down to catch your breath before sending over a coy smile. Carly laughs, clearly amused, before signaling to the chair that sits right in front of her. “We could have done this any other day as long as it was before the deadline, you know?”

“No,” you pant, heart beat barely switching back to its regular pace. Well. Sort of. “I need to get this out of the way, I promised Charles I’d be free before his birthday. He said it was his one and only wish, could you believe that, he’s so cute, isn’t he?” She blinks. Pink dusts your cheekbones. “Anyways, here it is.”

Looking down at your extended hand, she almost lets out a snicker. “I get I’m older than you, but really? You emailing it to me would have been just as effective.”

“I didn’t want to risk it going straight into your spam folder.” That, and I don’t want to see when you actually read it because I have a funny feeling you’re going to disapprove, which is okay, fair. “Here.”

“Very well, then,” she mumbles, retrieving it. “Why don’t we proofread it together one more time before send—”

Horrified at the innocent suggestion, you leap up from your chair, pushing back. “There’s no need, I checked it about a thousand times.” She raises a sharp brow at your outburst, the defensiveness in it. You laugh nervously. “And I should get going, anyways. Pascale is cooking Cha an early birthday dinner, can’t be late.”

Placing her forearms against the table, she nods slowly, but still unsure. “I won’t hold you back any longer, then. Tell him I said happy birthday.”

Tight lips form a forced smile, uneven breaths expanding. “Of course.”

You’re expected in an hour, so when you should be up forty-five minutes early, Pascale is pleased, but a bit surprised. Hugging you hello, she opens the door wider, letting you in. “They’re out in the back. Dinner should be ready in a bit.”

“No worries. Do you need any assistance?”

She shakes her head, thin blond hair swaying. “I’ve got it all under control, chérie.”

Nodding, you put your things down and start making your way towards the sound, beers clinking. You let out a snicker. “And here you are claiming not to be an alcoholic,” you joke. Flustered, Charles turns to face your soft voice. 

“It’s my first,” he squeaks.

“Third,” both Lorenzo and Arthur shoot, greeting you with a gentle nod. 

“It barely even has any alcohol,” your boyfriend tries defending, but the crack in his voice makes everyone burst out with laughter. Blood rushes to his cheeks. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Carly?”

“I was, but we got done pretty quickly.”

“What’d she think?” he asks, tugging you onto his lap. You giggle, meanwhile Arthur gags and Lorenzo blinks unbothered. “Bet she loved it.”

“I wouldn’t know. I left before she read it.”

He cocks his head. “Seriously?”

You nod. “You said you wanted my full attention.”

“I didn’t say it like that—”

“Well, now you have it.” You kiss his nose gingerly. “Happy early birthday, Charlie.”

The Monegasque smiles deeply. “Thank you.”

“Arthur! Lorenzo! Come help and set the table!”

Arthur groans. “Why just us? What about Charles?”

Poking her head out the window, Pascale aims a stern look, making him dash up. You laugh, ideally going to stand up, but gets tugged back down onto his thigh. You roll your eyes. “I should help, too. But you stay here and relax.”

“I will, but only if you stay with me.”

“Pascale needs my help—”

“Right, but she has both of them already.” He gives your hair a gentle tug. “Stay.”

Sighing, you nod, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you. From here, you can see the breathtaking view of Monaco’s sunset. The ocean, the trees. Filled with satisfaction in life, you kiss the side of his neck, making him squirm slightly. “Carly says happy birthday. Early. Early birthday.”

A hum. “Make sure to tell her that I said thank you, the next time you see her.”

The sound of waves crashing sings softly. He traces shapes down your leg. “When will I be able to read it?”

You’re sure you stop breathing. “S-soon. After Carly gives me the green light, at least.”

A beat. “I’m excited.”

Your stomach churns. “You are?”

“Mhm. Very. Didn’t you know I was your biggest fan?”

Fixing yourself to look at him, you open your lips, feeling how dry they’ve become. “Charles—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

A sore laugh. “They’re calling you.”

You reach towards your back pocket, pulling it out. Carly Freeman. Clicking it off, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He wiggles his brows. “Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing. Answer her, it’s fine.”

“She’s going to have to wait until tomorrow,” you announce, standing up and dusting your hands off. “I’m here with you, and she's going to have to wait. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than this.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

He sends a worried look. “Are you sure? What if it has something to do with your article? You should pick up—”

“I said I’m here with you,” you affirm. “Tomorrow. She’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Standing to his full height, he sends a gesture towards the house. “Let's go?”

His hand reaches out, waiting for you. You smile, taking it. “Let’s go.”

-

Your phone keeps buzzing and it doesn’t let him sleep.

That, and Carly is a terrible liar.

Shifting in the bed as quietly as possible, Charles reaches for your phone, trying his best not to wake you. “Hello?” he croaks. The line stays quiet, static rolling. “I know it's you, Carly.”

“Charles! How’s my favorite driver?” 

You twist, unwrapping your leg that was draped over him. He freezes, soothing you a bit before you settle down. Climbing off the bed, he walks out, gently closing the door and heading towards the living room. “I know your favorite is Fernando, what’s up?”

She laughs nervously, cursing underneath her breath. “Is my little journalist with you?”

“She is.”

“Great! May I speak with her very quick—”

“But she’s asleep.” She groans. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

Sitting down on the couch, he leans back, placing his feet onto the coffee table. Normally, he wouldn’t, but you weren’t here right now, and lucky for him, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He clicks his tongue. “Does this have something to do with your guys’ meeting today?”

“Yes. And no.” More static. “Do you mind waking her up for me?”

“Um…well I do. Sorry, Carly, but she needs to get some rest, she’s been working non-stop, and—”

“No, no, I get it!” she squeals. “I totally understand. Can you let her know that I need to talk to her as soon as possible? Like—urgent. Please and thank you and have a good night!”

“Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows and pushing the phone closer to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. Too much,” she adds. “It’s just that I need a bit of clarification, that’s all.”

“Clarification?”

“Yup. On a tiny mistake of hers. But we can fix it together, she still has time, and if she hurries then we can still meet the dea—”

“She doesn’t make mistakes, though. Ever.”

A hiss. “It’s a tiny one, Charles—”

“Okay, tell me and I’ll tell her.”

“What? I can’t. I need to speak directly with her first.”

“Carly…”

“What now?” she grits. 

“What’s the issue?” he presses harder. “I’ll let her know right now.”

The line goes quiet. For a moment, he begins to wonder if she’s hung up already, but when she clears her throat, he listens carefully, but can’t decipher her mumbles.

“She gave me the wrong USB.” That’s it? She groans. “Listen to me Charles—the USB she brought to be today only has her title written on it along with a few notes about what it’s supposed to be about. It’s the wrong one and I need the other one now.”

“Okay,” he mutters slowly, nodding. “I’m sure she’ll bring it to you once I let her know, but that’s going to have to be until tomorrow.”

She gasps. “You said you’d let her know right now!”

He winces. “I know I did, but it’s late! Trust me, though. I’ll tell her you called and I’ll even drive her myself tomorrow to drop it off. It must be around here somewhere right…” And it sure is. Sitting nicely on the coffee table, inches away from his feet. He sits up straight away, picking it up as if it were some sort of new discovery. Which in a way, it was. “Carly, why is this so important to you?”

“She’s my favorite client,” she answers without missing a beat. “I only want what’s best for her, and right now we need to fix this little mishap and get this article in as soon as possible.” A beat. “Also, maybe don’t mention the first part to Lissie, she’d totally kill me.”

Analyzing the black USB, he remains stoic, blinking only because he needs to. “Goodnight, Carly…”

“Yeah. I, um—goodnight, Charles.”

Once he hangs up, he’s quick on his feet, retrieving his laptop from the counter and sticking the drive in without a second to process what he’s doing. He shouldn’t. Probably. Definitely not. But the interest Carly clearly has was enough to poke his mind and for him to start wondering what on earth is so significant? 

And it’s so obvious now why.

Charles Lecelrc: The Man Behind the Helmet

His eyes skim fast, narrowing sharply.

Like any other human being, he struggles with depression, though fails to admit. Many sleepless nights, many fights, many canceled therapy appointments, I begin to question: does every praise his fans give him make him think he’s above all these things? The truth hurts, but it's only because it's real. And Charles Lecelrc, you are nowhere close to being as perfect as everyone makes you out to be.

His heart stops, re-reading the last sentence. He wishes for it to say anything but that, but it never changes, and it only mocks him like a school bully. 

Many assume that the death of his late-father, Hervé, and his late-godfather, Jules Bianchi, have made him stronger in a sense. That it has fed the drive in him to succeed. To be the best of the best, but what if that wasn’t true at all? Would any of you be surprised? Probably, but again, no one truly knows him the way I do. So, what feeds his determination? 

The thought of failing the same way they did. 

Anger bubbles up inside of him, grinding his molar until they crunch loudly against his temples. 

But who can blame him for having that fear inherited down onto him? Tabloids also have a part in this, and so do unwanted changes. One way or another, we can relate with the latter, but never in the way he does. Reading and hearing rumors takes a toll on Charles, that much is true, but what can we expect when his next new teammate is a seven-time World Champion. 

I guess the only question that stands in not only our minds, but also his… 

Is he strong enough to come head to head with someone as talented as Lewis Hamil—

“Wake up.”

Groggily, you rub your eyes. “Charlie, it’s dark out, come on. Come back to bed.”

“Stop calling me that, and get up.” In a single movement, he rips the blanket away and yanks you from your wrist, forcing you to sit. You gasp, his change of heart sobering you up from your sleepy daze. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs. “Me? What’s wrong with me? Are you serious right now or are you stupid?”

You flinch, taken aback. “Don’t talk to me like that, what did I do?”

“I won’t waste my breath explaining.” He drops his laptop on the bed, making you freeze as soon as you spot the familiar USB. “I'll let you re-read it.” 

“Where did you get this from?”

“Really? That’s what’s important to you?” He rolls his jaw, rubbing it until his skin turns a light shade of red. “If you don’t want me finding it, then next time don’t leave it out.”

Your lips go dry, crawling to the edge of the bed, but as soon as you’re about to reach out for him, he grimaces, shaking his head and taking three steps back. “Charlie—”

“No,” he hisses, glaring at you with utter hatred. The sight alone makes your eyes well up. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me that ever again.” A cry rings through the air as you cover your hands over your face. “A-am I supposed to be impressed by what I read or what?”

“It’s no—”

“Did I do something to upset you or w-why were you talking about me like that?” he questions, genuine confusion taking over as he furrows his brows until they cause his eyes to pinch up too. 

Sniffling, you get up quickly, shaking your head adamantly until you get dizzy. “It wasn’t supposed to come off across that way! Are you kidding me?” Grabbing your heart, you soften your eyes. “I’m your biggest supporter.”

“Yeah? Well, that,” he snarls, pointing at the open screen like it's the most disturbing thing. “That doesn’t make sense with what you’re saying…” A beat. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Do what, though?” you whimper. “Everything I wrote about you is based on what you told me!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, making the distance between you smaller, making you shrink. “I told you! Just you! I never once asked you to air out my business, and quite frankly, I thought that was common sense.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “You called me crazy and troublesome among other things. Are you my girlfriend or wolves in sheep's clothing? I’m trying to understand your logic here.”

You push your hair back, breathing hard. “You can’t just say that, there’s context behind that, come on…”

“Oh. Okay. My bad. I’m crazy because I talk to my father’s tombstone and Jules’. It's troublesome because I used to do cocaine in order to de-stress. I’m in over my head because I actually think I stand a chance against Lewis—a chance you convinced me I had!”

“That’s not what I meant!” you squeak. “You’re taking it all wrong, Charles, I would never say that about you!”

“But you did,” he states firmly. “And you know? If I’m so unready to face a friendly competition against my future teammate, then maybe I’m unready to face a lot of other things, too.” You freeze, dreading his next words as you plead him silently not to say them. “Maybe I’m not as ready to settle down with you as much as I thought I was…”

That does it. That seems to cut the little oxygen you had, off. Stumbling back, you feel the tears start to form again. “You don’t mean that…” You smile weakly. “You’re just a tiny bit upset right now, okay, fine. That’s fine. But you don’t mean any of that.”

Glaring until it hurts, he maintains eye contact. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, you don’t get to do that!”

You flinch. “I’m sorry.” A droplet slides down. “I’m sorry, okay?” More follows. “For all of it. For all of this. If I could take it all back, I would, you have to believe me, Charles, you know I would.”

His gaze lingers for a while longer, taking in your rosy nose. Your swollen eyes. Your wet cheeks. Everything that's supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “I really did trust you…” You breath hitches. “And I really did want you to win…” Pause. “And I still do.”

Strolling over, he disconnects the USB, making the screen go completely black, and hands it to you. Blinking down, you shake your head, too embarrassed to even look at it. “I don’t want it.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want it either…” Forcing your palm open, he places it down, instantly making your skin burn. “Journalist of the Year.”

You let out a wet sob, shoulders shaking. You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, but what you do know is that this doesn’t feel good and that your heart breaks with every passing second.

Never in a million years did you think you would experience any of this, especially with Charles. The Monegasque cocks his head, curls following. “I’m glad you’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted, I really am.” He chuckles softly, eyeing you intently. “I just can’t help but wonder what that must feel like.”

“I was going to tell you,” you whisper meekly. “And you were supposed to understand where I was coming from.”

And if any anger was gone, well fuck that, it all came right back.

“Understand where you were coming from?” he spits out, shocked by your choice of words. “You really thought I would understand? I planned my entire future around you, and this is how you repay me? You went behind my back to write an article I didn’t even know about! We made a choice years ago!”

“No, you did!” you retort, despair rising hard and fast. “You came up with that decision all by yourself, Charles, I never agreed!” You look down. “Not entirely.”

“Huh,” he scoffs, squinting his eyes. “I was simply looking out for the girl that I love given that the internet is a scary place and she probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it, for God sakes, I guess this is my fault now, isn’t it?”

“I would have been able to handle it, but you never gave me the chance!”

“Yeah, because reporting on a driver and driver who's your boyfriend are two completely different things that you can’t seem to comprehend!”

Trembling, you blink carefully, gulping. “I would have done just fine.”

“You think so?” he challenges, a sour smile forming. You nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?” Closing the final distance between you two, your breath gets stuck as he sends a dirty glare, one that's meant to sting. “You’re not talented. You only have your position because of your dating status, when in reality, your work is utter shit. Everything is handed to you.”

There’s a mix of a whimper and a plea that comes out of you as you screw your eyes shut. “You’re being mean, Charles…”

He laughs, clapping his hands once with amusement. “That’s what the internet is! Maybe I was right, then—you can’t handle it.”

“I could…” you murmur, but it's no use. 

The brunette catches himself wanting to comfort you. To apologize for everything. But then he figures—why? It’s not like he truly did something wrong. 

“You’re the greatest disappointment of my life.”

Something ended the moment those words left his mouth—you both knew it. Sobbing hard, your shoulders vibrate violently as you seemingly gasp for air. He looks away. 

“You know, our life could have been so good. So fucking good. But you went and ruined it.” Green eyes flicker back. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you declare with wet lashes. 

“You did a bit more than that,” he replies, wincing, blinking rapidly. He smiles. “If you wanted to write your article on me, you should’ve asked me. You should have talked to me. But no. And the thing is, I would have let you! God. I would have let you write whatever you wanted—but not like this. You stole an interview from me with no right, honey…”

Quickly, you flicker your gaze up at him, hoping to see any trace of  love in that one word, but you’re not surprised when you don’t find any, deflating furthermore. He shrugs. Like what you did to him was no big deal. 

“You took it from me. But I would have given it to you.”

-

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can always change your mind, babe, it’s totally fine!”

“No.” You fix your hair, posture straight. You smile. “I need to.”

Lissie shares a slow nod, nibbling on her bottom lip before handing you her keynotes. “Alright. Good luck.”

The idea first sparked when the Brit girl mentioned how she was the only one granted permission to interview Charles at this year's FIA prize giving ceremony. You had debated back and forth with what seemed like forever, both Carly and Lissie trying to talk you out of it, but you pleaded until they reluctantly agreed. 

You haven’t seen him ever since that day.

It’s insane to think about, sometimes. You knew each other for two years, dated for three, and haven’t crossed paths for another two. And now, you’re here. He’d been upfront that day, didn’t even flinch with his one and only birthday wish, meanwhile you felt the last stab hurt more than anything.

I wish to never see you again. 

Not long after, he grabbed his things and left. But not before turning around, sending you one last glance, dull, empty, and nothing like him anymore. You still recall.

Turn it in, he said, smiling warmly despite his better judgment. Despite not meaning it. Don’t let this all be for nothing.

Shaking your hands, you grin, fixing your silk dress. The Brit girl stares worriedly, but as soon as you wink, she hides it. Not that well, but enough. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” she jokes, but it’s probably true. He has a soft spot for her, and he only gave permission to her. No one else. 

You wince, grabbing her hands delicately. “I really appreciate this, Lissie. More than you’ll ever know.”

Waving goodbye, you make your way to the private conference hall. It’s daunting, actually, the sight of the large table where he’ll be sitting and the small chair where you will. Quite the narrative. His picture is hung in almost every corner, from the beginning of his career to now. The latest one makes you smile as he lifts the trophy high up with a beaming grin, dimples poking out and eyes crinkled just the way you remember. 

You thought about apologizing again. Better this time. Once things simmered down. You really wanted to, but as soon as Carly informed you that the article would need to be published in order for fans to engage with your content and for them to decide on a winner, you knew the gist of him accepting your apology was most likely never going to happen. 

And you contemplated not posting it. Carly did too. Lissie did too. No one thought it was a good idea, but you still did it. Like he said—you couldn’t let all that be for nothing.

The hate came immediately, you expected nothing less. In their minds, you were a loyal girlfriend, but after reading your work, the comments came rolling in. You were honestly quite grateful because you know you deserved every last bit of it. 

But somehow—somehow—you won Journalist of the Year. 

You were shocked to say the least—bewildered. And you could see it in Lissie and Carly’s eyes too. So, while accepting the award with a forced smile, it hit you like a truck.

Did you truly earn this or was it all thanks to him?

Either way, does it matter anymore?

The door gently opens as he steps in, a loopy smile stretched onto his lips before coming to a complete stop. With your heart in your throat, you cough awkwardly, standing up and waving. You cringe, putting your hand down as soon as he furrows his brows, looking around. 

“S-she’s not here,” you say, voice cracking. You blush. “You’re looking for Lissie, right?” Utter silence. He blinks, unresponsive and as stiff as a tree. You lick your lips. “I-I-I can leave if you want.” But you really hope he doesn’t want you to.

The Monegasque’s features strike with something familiar—something you knew not long ago. Then…

He smiles at you. 

“It’s alright.” Carefully, he makes his way closer, scooting his chair right next to yours as you blink, sitting back down and staring with your plump lips slightly open. He cocks his head. “Y-you look the same.”

You giggle. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” When he fails to answer, you bite down on your lip hesitantly. “You haven’t changed much, either.” 

He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why are you here and where is Lissie?”

You flinch. Okay. This was expected. You practiced hours for this very moment. “Don’t be mad at her, okay, I asked her to let me do this. I wanted to…see you, Charles.” The sound of his name leaving your lips makes his heart stop because it's been so long since he’s heard it. Too long. A subtle blush. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Ah,” he winces, scrunching his nose. “Don’t. We’re cool.”

“Are we, though?”

He stiffens. 

Exhaling, you place your things down, pursing your lips. He watches the way your knee bounces up and down. How you play with your ring before covering it neatly with the opposite hand. That catches him completely off guard as he blinks rapidly, thinking he must be mistaken. 

“I know I don’t deserve any of this,” you say nervously. “By all means, I should have been kicked out five minutes ago, but you…” Round eyes soften, lashes batting slowly. “You’ve always been a kind and generous human being, Charles.”

“Stop,” he whispers. You frown. “Saying my name, I mean. You can talk—we can talk, but please, just. Don’t say it.”

“O-okay,” you mumble, stomach churning. “I won’t.”

He lets out a tight smile, tilting his head. Years ago, his hair was a tad bit longer, fluffier even. Now, it’s still the same, but somehow more mature. His eyes are still young and naive, but with a hint of wisdom. He usually would wear mismatching suits, but now it matches. A lot of him has changed, and you weren’t there to witness it.

“Congrats, by the way,” you add happily. “World Champion, eh?”

Pink spreads across his cheeks, slowly but surely. “Thanks. I was close to losing my mind.”

You laugh. “Seven years later, but it’s well deserved. I’m so proud of you.”

And for a moment, he goes completely numb. He’s heard plenty of kudos ever since winning his first title—and they were nice, they made him feel nice—but this. You? It’s the first time it makes him feel accomplished. And that feels more than nice.

Playing with his bracelet, he nods sheepishly. “How have you—how, um…God. I, um, how have you been?”

“Oh.” You let out a genuine smile. Soft. Angelic. And everything he wishes to find in any other girl that isn’t you. It’s not something he should notice. “I’ve been well.” You raise your hand. “Engaged.”

“You sure are,” he mumbles, finally acknowledging the silver band before flashing an easy smile of his own. And maybe it was real, or maybe it wasn’t, but he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. Just a tiny bit bothered, is all. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You lick your lips awkwardly. “You remember Carly’s son?”

A tide hits him as he internally screams. “Grayson, right?”

You nod. “She, uh, set us up a while ago and we hit it off.” You wince. “I’m sorry, is that weird?”

“No. Of course not,” he replies, shrugging. “You’re allowed to build your life with whomever you want. What happened between us was…” He chuckles. “So long ago. I’m happy for you both, I really am.”

And he means it this time.

Admiring the oval-shaped ring, you swoon as if you’re thinking of the exact moment he proposed to you, and that’s the prettiest sight Charles thinks he might ever see. Even if it didn’t end up being him. Once you look back up, he looks away, feigning interest in anything else stupidly.

“Yourself?”

“Myself?”

A playful eye roll. “Are you seeing anyone?”

A retch. “Ha ha, no! No, that’s not—that’s not for me.” You frown. He winces. “Please don’t be offended, but after you, I sort of lost interest in meeting other people. Pierre calls it trauma, I call it precaution.” A sore laugh. “B-but maybe one day. Never say never, am I right?”

The lights reflect directly towards you, so that lets him see the rosy blotches beginning to hug your cheekbones as your lips wobble. He panics. “N-no! Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”

“I ruined your life,” you wail, throwing your hands over your face. “Oh my God, I wrecked it!”

“You didn’t!” he tries. “I’ve gone on a couple of dates, here and there!”

You’re tiny cries take a quick pause. Sniffling, you shoot him a look, shiny eyes beaming back at him. “You have?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, slowly relaxing against his seat. “Sort of. Kind of.” A horrified expression maps out against your face. He grimaces. “I-It’s just not my thing!”

“I’m sorry, Ch—” You pause, rethinking your words. “I’m sorry.”

The Monegasque shrugs, hoping that’d be enough for you to drop the topic. “It’s okay, really. It’s a decision I made long ago, and I’d like to keep it like that for a while, at least.” You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding halfheartedly. “But please, um, tell me, how far along are you? Heard from Lissie that it’s a boy.”

You let out a wet giggle, wiping your tears away to the best of your ability. “Nineteen weeks. I’m in my second trimester.” Gingerly, you rub your tiny belly before your eyes light up. “Give me your hand!”

“What?”

Leaning in, you grab his large hand and place it down on your stomach, looking up at him to watch his reaction. At first, he’s weirded out, you can tell. He makes a silly face he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, but seconds later his features soften. His green eyes go round, no tension behind them. His brows lay flat, then knit together in amazement. He laughs, rubbing his thumb gently.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers. “When he kicks?”

You hum. “Sometimes it can. But I suppose it’s more discomfort than anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Cool?”

He nods rapidly. “Super cool.”

Pulling away, he can feel his adrenaline as high as a kite, and as fast as his car. He feels different, he notes, as if something has finally shifted inside of him. With this, he takes time to admire you in a way he hasn’t been able to ever since.

Your hair is cut into layers now, glossy and shorter than he remembers. Your lips, round, plump and berry tinted. Your eyes, doe, innocent, and pure in a way he can’t seem to wrap his head around. Smile, even, wobbly, and everything in between.

Your gaze flickers. “Question…”

“Answer,” he replies, studying your body language. 

It’s harder than you had initially thought it would be, asking him what you’d been wondering for these past two years. Was it all that bad? The answer might be yes. Yes, it was. To him, perhaps. But it tugs your tongue, and it burns a bit, but you push through, focusing on him and his watercolor eyes.

“Do you—”

But he still knows you. He can still read you. Before you, it’s always him who understands your train of thought. 

He shakes his head, dimples imprinting like a finger in sand. “No regrets.” 

A peach seed forms as you let out a sheepish laugh. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life,” you admit, cringing slightly. “Just yesterday, I bought the wrong plane ticket. Got stuck in the airport for three extra hours.” He chuckles. “Totally unnecessary.”

“It happens,” he comforts you, clicking his tongue. 

“I guess so,” you say, sighing. “But betraying someone you love? Yeah. That’s got to be the worst mistake of my life.”

He flinches, an old wound suddenly opening. “Hey, you—”

You raise your hand, pleading with him. “Let me just…” So, he forces himself to sit there quietly, to not intrude no matter how much he really wants to. It’s fine, he wants to say, I’m fine now, we’re fine now, seriously.

A wince. “Do you know how guilty I feel whenever Grayson polishes my award?” A scoff. “He means no harm with his actions, but it makes me feel like shit everytime I walk past it. I’ve begged him to put it away somewhere in the attic, but he’s as proud as can be. Say’s an accomplishment like that deserves to be shown off. That it’s proof of all my hard work.” You smile. “Much like you and your trophy.”

You exhale. “You were right, though.” A hum. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure,” you give in quietly. “But you did say that if I won, I’d always wonder if I was truly respected for my work or if I was respected because of you.”

He bites his tongue. 

You shrug lamely. “And that’s just something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life…” Steadily, you ease your eyes back towards him as you find him already staring at you, listening close and curious. “And I want you to know that I’m fine with that.” A beat. “What I’m not fine with is you being mad at me for the rest of your life.”

Charles opens his mouth, feeling his tongue as dry as the desert and his throat as dusty as the highest mountain. “I’m not mad at you…anymore.” He sits up straighter. “I said a lot of things to you that night that I shouldn’t have said, but you have to understand that you hurt me a thousand times worse.” 

Tears well up your eyes as you nod shamefully. He continues despite feeling the need to reach out for you. “I just wanted you to feel what I was feeling, even if that meant—well. You know. And, um…I tried to forget all of that, but I, too, felt guilty, so—I’m glad you’re here. That way I can say…I’m sorry.”

“No!” you wail, raising your arms up. “No, I’m sorry! I broke your trust, and I was a God awful girlfriend.”

“You did,” he chuckles before scrunching his nose in deep thought. “But you were also the best I’ll ever have.”

A wet sob escapes.

“I forgive you.”

“S-shit,” you let out. “You don’t know how g-good it feels to finally hear you say that.”

A gentle smile. “You?”

You giggle, standing up. “I have nothing to forgive you for, but yeah. Okay. I forgive you, as well.” You open your arms for a hug. He blinks. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Tsk. “You used to do this all the time wherever we fought,” he says, a hint of sadness wavering in his eyes before disappearing into thin air. Extending to his full height, he towers over you before going in to close the distance. He halts, coughing awkwardly.

You snicker, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Right. You're hugging two of us now.”

A wave of jealousy pangs his chest for a second. You’ve moved on, and he’s stuck in the year you were still in his life. Still his. He envies Grayson in every sense there exists, but he swallows down that pill because he’d always been a nice bloke the very few times he interacted with him. He needs to move on, too. 

Even if it takes him his whole life to figure out how. 

“The more the merrier.”

Your face has gone completely numb by now from how hard you're grinning from ear to ear. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he goes over your shoulders, you sigh contently as you catch the whiff of his cologne. His heartbeat quickened at the smell of your perfume. 

“Question,” he whispered. You chuckle against his chest. Answer. He gulps, nose twitching. “Would it make me a bad person to say that you’re probably the only girl I’ll ever love?” Silence. He screws his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. Why the fuck would he ever say that—

“I’d only say that I don’t deserve to be her,” you respond. “Anyone but me.”

A flinch. “O-of course. You’re getting married, you’re having a baby, what was I th—”

“Honey…”

He freezes. 

You lean back, holding his face between your hands and smiling. “It’s not your name…”

His voice catches. “It’s not…”

A deeper smile. Nostalgic. “A piece of me will always love you.” A pause. “You know me so well. Better than anyone. You’ve seen me naked. You’ve dressed me. You’ve seen me with makeup. You’ve seen me without. And…well—you’ve seen my good side. But you’re also the only one who's seen my bad.”

His palms quickly get sweaty as he tries his best to not do anything he might regret. And not because he’ll wish to take it back, but because you would. Neat brows draw in together as you graze his stubble with your thumb. As nurturing as a mother, which he supposes you already are. 

“I’d say that makes us pretty close, no?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be.” 

“You’ll find someone.” A beat. “Someone who’ll love you right.”

“You didn’t?” he questions before he can stop himself. “Sorry—”

“My love for you was honest. But I blew it.”

I’m still here, he wants to yell out. If you still want me like I want you, then I’m still here.

But he refrains from doing so.

“You’ve never done me wrong,” he attempts, kissing your palm gingerly before softening his gaze. You send a playful glare. “Except for that one time.” You snort. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore because—because it doesn’t matter anymore…”

Maybe it's the hormones, you sort of wish it was, but you know it’s due to his gentleness. You don’t deserve his sympathy, you don’t deserve even a fraction of it. Crying, you kiss his cheek, hoping everything you feel transfers itself into the warmth of his skin. And you don’t know, but it does just that.

Closing his eyes, he prays to dream about this kiss forever. Have nightmares, who even cares. As long as he doesn’t forget. 

You step away carefully, taking him in as his eyes flutter. 

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…”

He smiles. You smile. 

His dimples pop out. Your eyes crinkle.

He loves you. You love him.

And maybe it didn’t work out in this life.

But maybe in the next.

“May I have an interview with you?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna @emmaxdelicate

[otaku553]

Straw hat women redesigns :) I was trying to doodle some of the crew and came to the realization that I just Could Not with Nami so I wanted to play around with it a little bit

Some more design notes below:

Nami’s design actually went a lot smoother for me than Robin’s! I think canon post timeskip Nami is a very low bar. While you can argue that to some extent Nami being vain and seductive is part of her character, I do feel that there are many more integral parts of her character that can be highlighted in her design, namely map making and her combat. Though not one of the stronger straw hats, Nami does seem to be well practiced with her staff outside of its use for weather manipulation, and I think her being a physical combatant, even slightly, can be better reflected with more loose clothing for better mobility.

For her mapmaking, I wanted her to have constant easy access to her tools and to information about the locale, so around her waist she has one large pouch at the back for books and scrolls and maps in progress and one small pouch to the side for writing utensils and measurement tools. As backup she also has 2 pens in her bun, which also act as pins for keeping her hair up if she ever needs to move a lot.

I’m not sure how clearly it shows up in the notes, but Nami’s shoe soles are also made from whatever artificial cloud material makes up the weather island she stayed on during the timeskip, so that it both pads her steps to make them soundless and bounces for better mobility. The shoes are naturally shaped like heels but without the actual heel, since she tends to move around on tiptoes anyways- a nod to her epithet as cat burglar and her past as a thief.

I made her shoulders a bit broader because I think they probably get a lot of exercise with her staff, and changed out the bikini top for a more supportive chest wrap, with a loose tank over it for breathability. The compression socks and sleeve are more stylistic than anything, since I like layers, but they might come in handy for her if she spends extended amounts of time sitting down making maps for the crew.

Robin’s was a bit more difficult for me to figure out, and I might go back and revisit it at some point. For Nami, it was a bit easier to imagine what would pair well with her combat methods and her needs as a mapmaker, but with Robin, she’s an academic who fights almost completely hands off, without a specific weapon to her name. Because her strength lies mostly in her devil fruit, she has a bit more room for style over functionality, but I also still wanted her to have something that made sense with what she was. I don’t really think I succeeded in that regard, but it’s also hard to convey what she does visually— she’s more of like a professor than a field archaeologist I think.

I really really enjoy her cowboy hat but I didn’t think it would match with the rest of the outfit so I switched it out for a wider brimmed hat and kept the orange sunglasses on it, as a nod to the revolutionaries with the combination of headwear and eyewear. She deserves a trench coat. I don’t make the rules. And the rest of the fit mostly came down to things I think I would enjoy wearing, haha

The trench coat is partially a nod to the scholars of ohara, who seem to wear white coats like lab coats in some screenshots of robin’s backstory. I think also the reading glasses help to make her seem a bit more academic, but aren’t prominent enough to leave a strong impression. All in all I do wish robin’s design had more functionality in it but I also think that robin is a character who probably enjoys dressing up nicely like this, especially in the comfort and stability of the straw hats.

[rubywithecat]

Heeey I saw that you are writing for aot again! I use to read them a lot :) could you write the aot boys in a family dinner just something silly and funny pretty please? :) thankss

Hello! Thanks a lot for loving my AoT ones<33 I had no idea that u guys enjoyed a lot to my AoT hcs, I’m so grateful for it ^^’

AoT boys at family dinner (fem. reader)

Eren Yeager

-He had proposed you days ago so you invite him to your family dinner, to introduce to your family. He had prepared considerate gifts for your parent and ur parents immediately liked his behavior. At the dinner, he would be shy to take the dishes into his plate so you have to take for him. “So, how long have u been dating my daughter” your dad asked. “Two years, sir” he replied. “You called me sir?” Your dad raised his eyebrows. He was nervous. “Umm… you don’t like it…?” He asked, looking at you for help. “Haha it’s not that I don’t like it. U can call me dad, alright? We’re gonna be family anyway” he said as Eren was blushing. “Yes, sir…I mean dad” he said, squeezing your hand out of embarrassment and you and your mum laughed.

Armin Arlet

-When you told him your parents are gonna come this evening for dinner, he freaks out cuz he hadn’t prepare anything. “It’s okay u don’t need to, Armin. It’s a casual dinner anyway” U told him. When they arrive, he greeted them politely and they were impressed that he wasn’t nervous at all. He was smart enough to be adjustable and chose right kind of words with his conversation and bond with your parents immediately. The dinner wasn’t awkward at all. Now they even favored him more than you after that dinner.

Reiner Braun

-He wanted to be seen flawless by your family so he tried so hard which made him seemed more like overly suspicious. Your little bro dropped his spoon and he immediately got up and said, “don’t worry I will wash it immediately” then he stood up and did it. Your parents were just being awkward and looked at you and your mum whispered “Is there smth wrong?” she was worried. “I swear he’s not like that” you had to cover for him. “He’s just nervous, mum”. When your dad told a joke, he laughed so hard that made him more awkward. But overall, your parents understood him and when they told him like he doesn’t need to be nervous around them cuz he’s like their son, he felt relived and his actions changed more casual later on which made your parents loved him.

Porco Galliard

-You were so surprised that he’s so good at handling this kind of situation. He easily impressed your parents with his gentleman behaviors and slight humor. “I can’t believe that my daughter attracts this kind of perfect young man” your dad praised him and teased you. “Dad! I’m also good!” you defended. Porco just laughed and replied like “Actually, I’m so lucky to have your daughter. She has everything a man could ask for” which made him get million positive points from your parents and he smiled at you innocently. Before they left, they even reminded you like “don’t let go of this man, kiddo” and u replied like “I get that! I’m your actual daughter, not him, in case u forget” you got smiled fakely and you closed the door. You looked back at Porco, arm crossed. “What?” He smirked, patting your head. “It’s so suspicious that ur behaviors and speech were so smooth that how many times have you done with other girls before, huh?” you asked. “Oh, I swear this is my first time! No need to be jealous that I’m so good at it” he winked and u threw him with pillow.

Erwin Smith

-He actually cooked for the dinner and he lied for you that u did all of those. But your parents knew you couldn’t cook so u can’t fool them and they scolded you. “Don’t bully your fiancé, y/n” your mum said. “Mum I’m not!” U defended. Plus They were so impressed about him like his achievements and manners. And then your dad embarrassing you like “I’m so glad my daughter is marrying with you cuz I was worried if she would be eating cup noodle her whole life” Erwin laughed when your face got red. Your mum even gave him ancient vase that she liked collecting them. They liked him so much that they might even adopt him if you ever broke up.

—

—

[nightcolorz]

I stumbled on your blog and i love it sm!!

Its so weird, because i am a huge Marius fan, and you put many reasons why he is my absolute favorite character as things why he SUCKS! Its so cool to me, to read something so accurate and then have someone put out a completely different opinion on it! (i do not think he is Good, none of them are. But i think he is cool, his better qualities resonate with me the most of all the characters, i love lore, and i love reading about him the most)

There are few things, that i do not understand and it bothers me endlessly! I just can't figure out where some readings come from, very sinserely (because i want to respect other readings and interpretations), maybe you could help me understand?

First: that Marius dislikes being challenged and tries to "keep Armand to himself"(generalizing) - as i read it, Marius prefers people who challenge him, can stand up to him. All of his paramours are like that - Pandora, Bianca, Armand, Lestat, Daniel..even Botticelli actively defy him, in a way other characters don't and Marius himself is vocal on that being something he admires about them. He does not know how to deal with that, oh no, but he loves it - the fire he himself does not possess. He also actively helps Armand learn about his culture and family, ready to be left behind when they visit Kievan Rus. He also never shows any type of concern about Armands "daytime" personal connections. As i remember, he encourages it decpite objections, actually.. My personal reading is that most drama and abuse between Marius and Armand is about Marius refusing the codependency Armand desperatly wants. (and them being oppisitely unhealthy about that)

Second: there is a notion, that Marius would not want Armand to grow up? And i do not understand where it comes from at all... Marius actively states (and thinks) that his own wish is to see Armand grown into a Man and he refuses time and time again to turn him before then (or to turn him at all) , until Armand is on the deaths door. (i also saw a thing about shaving, but all of them are shaved before the turning as an old ritual, canonically, i believe, only Santino is unshaved so. I might be wrong tho lol. One of canon reasons (again, if my memories are not faulty) - facial and body hair might go in and out of style, so clean shave helps them blend in better)

I you would spare some time to let me understand where those come from i would be forever grateful, because i sometimes think i am blind (and i might be! Thats why i ask. I am a bit scared that i might be percieved in bad faith, but if i have a blindspot i will not see it myself, so getting outside help is the only way haha)

I hope you have a great day! Thnx for the very least reading my ask!

(this is going to be slightly shorter then I initially wanted it to be bcus I wrote a whole essay and tumblr DELETED IT, so I’m so sorry ur going to get a condescend version of my thoughts 😰 I hope they still make sense, anyways)

Thank u sm anon ur so nice omg 🥹❤️ it makes me so happy that u like my blog!!! Don’t worry at all about coming off as bad faith u only come off as respectful and curious to me. I’m going to answer ur questions the best I can! 🙏

I think that the reason a lot of my Marius posts seem to contradict parts of canon is bcus Marius is a very self contradictory character. His wants are often in conflict with each other, and in his relationship with Armand he is always warring between conflicting desires.

First: I definitely agree that Marius seeks out people who challenge him and does rlly enjoy it (to an extent lol). but the way I perceive it, marius likes to be challenged *to an extent*. He doesn’t want a partner who will be weak and docile with him, he wants a partner he’ll need to fight into being docile and he wants to loose that fight<3.He prefers someone with some fire in them, clearly, based on his choice of lovers lol. And I think this is bcus Marius likes the chase, like any vampire. He likes the thrill of being with someone who makes him hurt for it a little bit, he likes fighting and arguing and struggling to stifle a spark he knows is too bright to put out. But also, like most ppl lol, Marius likes to be challenged only so much as he isn’t challenged to the point of having to change himself. He doesn’t want to change his perspective, whenever a partner of his gets him to rethink how he thinks or acts he tends to get rlly mad. He wants to be challenged as long as it’s fun, if he’s uncomfortable or feeling like he might actually adopt a new perspective or change as a person he puts a stop to it. At the end of the day he needs that teacher and student or master and subordinate dynamic to stay in tact. He likes to be challenged but he doesn’t like to be weakened or caught off guard in anyway that makes him question his authority or his strength.

When it comes to Marius helping Armand rediscover his culture, yas! This actually is a good transition bcus this is also a good example of what I’m talking about when it comes to the being challenged thing. Marius is happy and eager to help Armand heal from the demons of his past by rediscovering the family and culture hes forgotten, so long as Armand is obedient and answering to his call at the end of the day. Marius is happy to be left on the sidelines, up until armand starts disregarding his authority and moving away from him on his own path. After coming home from Kiev Armand realizes that he doesn’t gain anything from learning from Marius and he would rather learn on his own by discovering himself and processing what this new culture means to him. And Marius let’s him have this, until he realizes that he’s loosing his control over Amadeo and he is not going to come back to him without a push, and he beats the absolute shit out of him 😭 again, challenged to an extent.

Second: when marius first buys Armand he explains in blood and gold that part of why he chose Armand was bcus he wanted a vampire companion in Bianca, but he felt too guilty to turn Bianca bcus she was a bright young woman with a future ahead of her, so he chose Armand to be his future vampire companion instead bcus Armand was broken enough to not have a chance of a future anyway (therefore turning him is guilt free). Then, marius learns very quickly that Armand could easily have a future just as bright as Bianca, once he’s under his care he starts to prosper, and he realizes that turning him into a vampire would be equally as cruel as turning Bianca. So his motive changes, and he decides that his desire to turn Armand is wrong and he should instead give him the chance to live a full human life just like any of the other boys. Marius wants this bcus he knows that it’s the right thing to do, to give up the person he loves for their own good. But it’s also, deep down, not what he wants at all, bcus it agonizes him to think of a future where he doesn’t have Amadeo. So this creates this self contradictory mess, where Marius is aiming both at the same time to turn Armand into a vampire and also to let him live a human life. He starts doing contradictory things, like feeding Armand his blood and exposing him to vampirism + getting him hooked on it, and then sending him out to “experience humanity” bcus that’s what Marius wants for him.

It caused Armand to be driven absolutely insane, bcus he’s being communicated two different things about what Marius wants for his future. I think Marius’s conflicting desire causes part of Armand’s desperate begging for him to turn him. Armand is so fed up with this mind melding conflict he just wants Marius to rip the band aid off and do it 😭 cuz they both know it’s what they both want. And Marius knows that this is the terrible abusive option, and he can’t get Armand to see this bcus Armand is too far deep in his love brain.

So my answer is, Marius wants Armand to grow up bcus he knows that’s what’s best for him, but he continues to hold out on the possibility of vampirism and refuses to cut ties with Armand bcus he rlly does want to turn him against his better judgement, which in my opinion reads as a desire to keep him young, under his control, in that limbo stage where he doesn’t need to make a decision. Partly bcus if Armand is young and compliant and his body isn’t changing the clock isn’t ticking and Marius doesn’t have to confront that his choices r either loose Amadeo or ruin him.

when it comes to the “shaving Armand was part of a vampire ritual” personally I don’t remember that? It’s not that I don’t believe u, that could totally be accurate and it definitely sounds like smth that would be canon, but I’m struggling to remember if I read that and forgot. I’ve always perceived the Marius shaves Armand cuz he wants to preserve his youth thing as accurate bcus it’s interesting and makes sense for the characters and I don’t remember anything that contradicts it lol, I also don’t remember any other character being shaved pre turning as a ritual besides Armand so I didn’t consider if it was a vampire thing. but u could be right and if so oops I’m sorry for spreading misinfo 😭 but either way that’s still gonna be my headcanon and my interpretation is much the same lol

I hope u have a great day anon and find this interesting ❤️ thank u for the ask!

[mollymawkwrites]

Steddie Bingo Prompt: Madonna

This is my first completed prompt for the @steddiebingo and a bit of a warm up! Please be warned I know nothing about 80's US music so I just looked at top 100 songs of that time. Hope you enjoy reading!!

Steve used to be friends with a lot of boys his age. At least, he thought he did, before he learned what friends truly were. Not people you were in constant competition with, that you wanted to one-up or belittle. Friendship has a whole new meaning now, and even though it took several near world ending events for him to see it, he wouldn’t go back to how things were even if it made his parents come back.

He’s got Robin now, and the kids, and a new, much better relationship with Nancy than they ever had when they were together. And it’s untraditional and unexpected but he’s happy, he really is, now that the interdimensional horrors are (hopefully) never going to bother them again. When he was still in high school and proudly answered to the keg king title, he definitely didn’t think that, by now, his closest friends would mostly be girls he wasn’t even trying to sleep with, underage shitheads, and the town freak.

Said town freak being his only male friend of legal age.

Friendship with Eddie is in a whole other realm than with the basketball team guys, or even with Tommy. Eddie is loud but not posturing like teenage jocks do, not trying to assert dominance with ridiculous displays of strength or random acts of cruelty. He’s loud because there is too much of him to keep inside, and it does sometimes grate on Steve’s nerves, but he never wants Eddie to change for him or anybody else. Many people have tried to change Eddie, push him into a neater box, make him conform, but he is still unashamedly himself. Steve is jealous of that. He’s tried so hard to be who people expected him to be; his parents, his high school friends, his girlfriends, that now he had a hard time finding who he actually is behind the façade. Does he truly love basketball, or did he only play because it made him popular and loved? Did he enjoy the other jocks’ company, or did it simply help him rise to a status his parents could be proud of? Had he truly ever only liked girls, or was it that any other option was impossible to consider?

He is answering these questions one at a time, with his new friends by his sides, and the answers aren’t always easy but he’d rather be a bit uncomfortable trying to find himself than sit in familiar lies for the rest of his life.

All of that to say, it may have been a while since Steve has been friends with guys his age, and Eddie might be completely different from the boys he’s used to, but some things stay the same. Unspoken rules followed by all teenage boys who want to have a good relationship with their peers. The first rule is: don’t make fun of someone for popping a boner when you’re watching a movie with a hot actress. Just ignore it and pretend you’re not just as bothered. The second rule is: don’t ever, ever look under someone’s mattress, unless they’ve allowed you to.

But those are hard to apply when lately all he wants to do is look at Eddie, talk to Eddie, know everything there is to know about Eddie. He’d open him up and look at what’s inside if he could. Find what’s making Eddie so special, so different that Steve’s eyes can’t help but be drawn to him in any room, in any situation.

That’s why, one night they’re hanging out in Eddie’s bedroom, high from his personal stash and summer heat, Steve doesn’t think twice about kneeling next to Eddie’s bed and lowering his head to the ground to glimpse underneath. It’s a mess, just like the rest of the room, but after rummaging for a minute, Eddie blessedly too busy rambling about some asshole client at the shop to notice what Steve’s doing, Steve gives a little triumphant noise before dragging a shoebox out of the pile.

“Steve, what-“

“Haha!” Steve raises the box over his head triumphantly, delighting in the wide eyed, panicked gaze Eddie gives him as he realizes what exactly Steve is holding.

“Oh no no no-“ He throws himself from his desk chair, but Steve is too quick, jumping on the bed to avoid him.

“So, let’s see if Eddie Munson’s as freaky as they say!” He rips the lid of the box open, toppling the contents over the rumpled covers.

Instead of dirty magazines and photographs though, what stumbles out is a handful of colorful tapes.

And not the kind of tapes he’s had to stash in a bin so Keith wouldn’t steal them for his personal porn collection when they’ve gotten donation boxes at Family Video, either. It’s regular audio tapes, the kind that litters the floor of Eddie’s van, except: these ones don’t read Metallica or Dio or Megadeth. Instead they’re covered in Eddie’s scratchy writing and little doodles. Mixtapes. Eddie gave him one as a birthday gift earlier in the summer, titled “Actually Good Music 101”, meant to “educate him to the superior taste”, filled with loud bass and complicated guitar riffs. Steve knows he’s made some for Max, too, but he’s refused to tell Steve what was on it. “Just some stuff to expand her horizons”, was all Eddie had told him about it.

Those ones don’t seem to be for anyone, though. There are no titles, only tracks listed, too small for Steve to read even when he squints down at them, so he lowers himself, careful not to kneel on any of the plastic cases, and picks up one of them.

It’s ripped out from his hand immediately, and he startles a bit, suprised to see Eddie holding it up with a crazed look on his face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Harrington?” He says with a cool voice, but his eyes are wide and there is a blush high on his cheeks.

Steve smiles, relaxing a bit. Eddie’s not actually angry with him, though he’s trying to pretend; he’s embarrassed.

“What are those, Eddie? You hiding secrets from me?” He picks up another tape, rolling away when Eddie’s arm shoots out and tries to grab that one too.

“Isweartogod-“ Eddie lunges after him, the bed creaking in protest, and Steve sticks the tape in his mouth to free both his hands as they wrestle, kicking the other tapes to the floor with their gesticulations. It doesn’t take long to overpower Eddie: he’s scrappy and fights dirty, but he’s still recovering from being in the hospital for a month, and tires quickly. Steve is careful with him, holding back just like he does when he tussles with Dustin or Lucas. When he feels Eddie’s breath hitch, his strength starting to leave him, he puts an end to the fight, trapping both of Eddie’s arms against his sides with his own knees, sitting on his stomach to avoid the heavy scarring on his chest.

Eddie’s face is red, frizzy curls sticking to his cheeks and forehead with sweat, and Steve pointedly does not allow himself the luxury of daydreaming about this in a different context. Instead, he rips the tape from his mouth, swiping the drool on his own shirt before bringing it to eye level.

To his surprise, he recognizes every song. He’s heard them many times, in his own car, at work, at the arcade. Top 40 songs. Wham!. ABBA. Steve has to reread it twice to register what he’s seeing, and then he puts the tape down on Eddie’s chest, reaching for another one that landed next to his knee. It’s just more of the same: Cyndi Lauper, Blondie, Wham! again, and…

“You said Bon Jovi was a sellout,” is all Steve says, still reeling from the discovery.

Underneath him, Eddie’s face is redder than ever, and Steve knows that if he could, he’d hide himself behind his hair. “He is. Can’t deny he writes some catchy tunes, too.”

“You did deny it. Several times. Very loudly.”

“Well, I have a reputation to huphold. If I let the sheepies see my standards aren’t as high as they think, they’ll never let me live it down, and I can’t have that.” Eddie squirms underneath him, discomfort written across his face, and Steve pushes up on one knee to swing the other over, freeing him.

“So, what, you listen to-“ he interrupts himself, lifting another mixtape to squint at the tracklist “- Tears for Fears -really, dude? You gave me so much shit about them - in secret like a looser?”

Eddie shrugs, pushing himself against the headboard with a resigned expression on his face.

Steve lets him pout in silence, fishing around for the rest of the tapes, giving each of them a look — Blondie, Michael Jackson — before dropping them back in the shoebox. A couple of them are different though, instead of a mix of artists, only the song titles written on the back. Steve, of course, recognizes them all.

“Dude, why d’you have so much Madonna?”

Eddie’s face, which had gone back to a normal color, flushes bright red again, his eyes shifting to avoid looking at him. “I don’t know, she’s… cool, I guess?”

Steve gives him an unimpressed glare. “You, Eddie Munson, think that Madonna is cool? Even I am not stupid enough to believe that.”

Throwing his hands in the air with a wince at the tug on his scars, Eddie admits: “I don’t know, you said she was super hot when we watched that movie the other day. The shitty Shanghai one. And I didn’t see why you’d said that, so I looked at her music videos. And I… kinda started liking some of her songs.”

Holding back a laugh, Steve comes back to a detail that piqued his interest. “And? Do you see why she’s super hot now?”

“Steve.” Eddie deadpans, his trepidation only betrayed by the flush still adorning his ears and neck. “I’m gayer than Elton John in the I’m Still Standing music video.”

That brings Steve up short, his mouth clicking shut as his heart suddenly beats in overdrive. Those are the words (or at least similar ones) he’s been hoping to hear for a while now, even though he’s had no idea how to bring up the subject without having to unveil a part of himself he’s not quite ready to yet. He’s had time to think of an appropriate answer. His brain doesn’t muster up any of them though, his face twisting in a confused grimace and his mouth sputtering: “Elton John’s gay?”

Eddie stares at him with a dumbstruck expression, before the fear Steve hadn’t realized was tensing his shoulders sloughs away with a full bellied laugh, head thrown back as he cackles. “Jesus, Steve, you’re the straightest man ever. How is it possible to be so oblivious?”

Well, I’m not the only oblivious one in the room, Steve doesn’t say, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

They stay silent for a couple of minutes as Steve finishes gathering the tapes. The tension from earlier is gone, replaced with a quiet comfort pretty uncharacteristic to Eddie. As Steve stuffs the box back under the bed, Eddie nudges his thigh with his foot, almost toppling him to the floor. “Why were you looking under my bed in the first place, by the way?”

It’s Steve’s turn to flush slightly, though he’s pretty confident his summer tan hides it better than Eddie’s pale skin. He shrugs, affecting a nonchalant tone: “I was trying to see what kinda porn the town freak hides under his mattress.”

Eddie arches an eyebrow. “You’re a weirdo, Harrington. Can’t you leave a man his privacy?”

“Well, you know all the girls I find hot. It’s only fair I know what kinda guy does it for you.” And if I would ever fit into that category, he doesn’t add.

Eddie crosses his arms behind his head, long body stretched on the covers, and smiles his big, I’m-weird-and-you-should-be-afraid, grin. “Wouldn’t you like to now, big boy?”

That throws him for a loop, just like it did in the RV, just like it does every time Eddie calls him that, and Steve almost misses the rest of Eddie’s sentence: “Anyway, I don’t hide my skin mags under my bed. That’s a rookie mistake. Everyone would look there first, case in point.”

“… does that mean you have porn hidden somewhere else in this room?”

“Y-“ Realization hits Eddie and his eyes widen in alarm, just as Steve throws himself from the bed, aiming for the messy drawer and its contents.

[holnnetd]

Catfisher!König Part 3

Part 1, Part 2, ..., Part 4, Part 5 (is a question)

Meow meow, I can't sleep, so here is.....

PART THREE, YUPPIE

Warning: Suggestive content, brief mentions of pornography, low-key incel behaviour, some sex talk, just a guy being loser, a little stalker behavior, a little obsessive, please be 18 or older if you read this, or just don't tell me you're minor, I can't stop you from doing anything tbh.

This is only fiction, please remember.

Three months spend texting eachother, and the intentions slowly changed. Fuck, they changed vastly.

Who would have realised the guy that's formally know not to care for any female validation, that has very conservative views on women, and refuses to talk with women just because he believes he's better -fucking virgin ass- actually fell in love with a girl that he always mocked for dressing so feminine.

That's some funny shit if you ask me.

Haha, incel likes bimbo! Wohoho!

Ahem.

From just wanting nudes from the pretty girl, he started to get genuinely interested in every little aspect of your life. You got new textbooks? Those are his her favourites of course!

Woah, the new set of markers. Surely the saturation must be great on those, write his her name down in different colours just so she can see if it's really that great!

You went on a date? Girl, please. He was an asshole! He didn't open the café door for you? You REALLY should block him. Maybe date someone taller.

What does height have to do with opening doors? A lot, really! Please just date the tall guy in your school.

He was starting to fall down that comfortable blanket if lies do much he started to genuinely believe you are best friends. He started being nicer to you in person. Which caught you off guard.

Oh, he brought a delicious pastry for the class just because? What a coincidence, just yesterday you told Alexandria that it's your favourite!

The grown ass college student started to get swooned. Well, he is swooned.

And you two have grown so close over this time, it's just girl talk when the topic starts to go into sexual direction.

Surely asking what your favourite sex position is, is normal between friends. Yeah. He- I mean she enjoys sex shower. I mean shower sex. Ehm.

Surely, you would like it too! Yeah...

It came to a point that hey, what about a meet up?

He fucking stilled. A meet up??? With you? As someone who doesn't exist...?

And how does he get out of this mess now....

Tell the truth? Haha... No.

You couldn't ever look into his eyes if you found out the big weird austrian student that really loves war actually catfished you into giving him literally every information anyone needed to blackmail you.

Hold on...

Blackmail.

Information to blackmail.

Lol, did I promise you guys smut in part 3? Sorry guys, I get too yappy. 😇

I swear smut will come somewhere. Surely.

Yeah....

Part 1, Part 2, ..., Part 4 (surely will come)

[celestie0]

If someone looked at me the way Gojo was looking at Y/N after ugly crying I think I’d be carrying their kids tbh…

Poor Y/N is so scared to let someone in she puts up wall after wall the moment things get a bit too real 😭 but I get her. Every meaningful relationship in her life has been “temporary” (for lack of a better word) so far: her father left them, Choso abandoned her the moment he wanted Yuna’s pussy (although he was gone way before that), and her mom can’t really be there for her anymore through no fault of her own. I get why she has walls up when it comes to Gojo, they entered the relationship knowing it wasn’t real so why set yourself up for the inevitable hurt when it’s over.

The guilt of lying to someone you love even though you know it’s probably for the best is so painful, I hope Y/N allows herself some grace. Mourning your parents so young, at any age really is never easy and she’s doing it all alone too. I hope she has the happiest of endings because I feel like she’s going to need all the support she can get as her mom’s illness progresses 😭

Y/N is so much stronger than me because I’d probably have taken him up on that sex to blow off steam option even if he wasn’t being serious (I feel like he’d be so down though) 🤷🏽‍♀️

I’m super excited to see how their relationship progresses. The emotional connection they’re developing is actually extending my lifespan.

Thank you so much for the chapter, this is genuinely one of the best works I’ve ever read so I sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing your work with us 🥰 I hope you’re doing well and that life is treating you amazingly! Can’t wait for the next chapter, I know it’ll be fantastic

(P.S - his mom’s wedding ring fitting her perfectly had be kicking and blushing 😭 if that isn’t a sign they’re meant to be then IDK WHAT IS)

hi my love oh gosh i could CRY!!!!!!!!!! this ask made me so happy because you 100% hit on like literally every single point that i wanted to emphasize in the chapter and also even managed to predict things that are to come as well??? i ask for your hand in marriage pleaaasseeeee 💍💍

HAHA yes i liked writing the parts where she’s like basically just blowing her nose on him 😂

aaaaaaa yess she definitely has sm walls up bc of how many people have left her and/or betrayed her, i think an additional heartbreak is the fact that she is literally a night shift nurse who saves lives, but isn’t even helped by the very system that she serves (healthcare)…i would be so jaded if i were her too :”( but tysm for having empathy for her!! i think it would take a very patient person to be w her n i def think ihm gojo is that guy hahah

YES ihm will have a sweet ending and we will see as the series progresses that reader softens and starts to reclaim her life once more :) but you’re so right! one of the devastating things about caring for a loved one w dementia is weighing the white lies vs the potential distress over relaying the truth…having grace w oneself is def so important

LOL ya i think he would be so down too 😂 it’s funny cause like? reader? girl? i mean you’re already stressed tf out why not at least get eaten out on a regular basis while you’re at it LOL (the time will come)

ouuu i’m so happy you enjoyed the chapter n thanks so much for interacting so meaningfully w it 🥺 a lot of stuffs u touched on in this ask are elaborated much further in what i have planned for series so i’m so excited to bring that to you!! much loveee (and yes the wedding ring fitting was literally a sign from god LOL)

[sahrii]

THE RETURNED LETTER | makhina

To: @dearru

Dear Mak,

I want to start off this letter by saying thank you for accepting our invitation! Iwaizumi and I had a lot of fun and were very grateful for the room hinata booked! Dinner was amazing and we really enjoyed our night with you! I’m going to return a thank you gift for attending the date! But first, I’ll briefly go over what we did as a small reminder.

The date started off with you guys turning up a bit late. Truth be told, Iwaizumi was pissed off a bit because we had to wait outside the restaurant in the cold for half an hour. I wasn’t really cold because he gave me his jacket and he refused to get it back claiming that he wasn’t cold, but i could tell he was. When you and hinata turned up, hinata appearing to be very excited, iwaizumi almost popped a vein, especially when he learned that you guys were late because hinata insisted on wearing the shirt you got him for his birthday that says “I ❤️ MY HOT GIRLFRIEND” and spent an hour searching for it.

Anyway, fast forward to the actual dinner—the it was pretty nice at the start. The food was really good, he actually insisted on ordering your food for you which i thought was really cute. He also insisted on feeding you after he saw iwaizumi feed me a spoonful from his dish. He pointed at us and turned to you and asked “Can we do that?”. When you said yes, he fist bumped the air and gave you a sloppy kiss on the cheek while reaching out for his spoon to feed you.

However, when it was time for the drinks, things started going downhill. “it’ll just be two drinks babe, I promise,” but who was he lying to? Oh and by the way! I could see you holding hands under the table…you weren’t very sneaky….haha. Anyway, he actually stuck to his word for a while, then while you and I were in the middle of a convo about pickles (yes, i love pickles. no, you can’t point at me and laugh) we both heard iwaizumi say something he should have never uttered. “Can you even handle more than two drinks?” he asked cocking his eyebrow but then realised the grave mistake he made. It’s true, the words slipped out accidentally. Both our heads snapped to Iwaizumi while hinata was already ordering more drinks…way more than he should have. I nudged iwaizumi in the ribs while we both glared at him. He raised his hands in surrender. “I barely even completed the sentence,” he defended. “nope, not my fault, you’re dealing with drunk hinata today,” you replied. “hey! who said i’ll be drunk? i’ll be tipsy at max” hinata whined. And he lied, because after 20 minutes, his head was draped across your lap with flushed cheeks and a lazy grin. His fingers reached to poke your own cheeks. "Babe." You sighed, glancing down at him. "Yes, Shoyo?" “do you know that i love you soooo much,” he slurred.“yes shoyo i love you too” “did you always smell this good?”. You blinked at him. “you—“ “no—oh my hod how did i get so lucky,” Iwaizumi, who was not very drunk as he was our driver for today, made a gag noise. “shut the fuck up iwaizumi you did this” you snapped at him while hinata continued slurring random words of affection. Oh and by the way i was secretly recording you guys! It was really funny.

I forgot to say, the two small envelopes attached with the letter are some other gifts I thought you guys would like! Please open them then continue reading the letter!

ENVELOPE ONE — a makhina moodboard

right hugs that lift you off the ground + playful nudges + late night walks + loud laughs + sloppy kisses + lazy morning cuddles + warm calloused hands against yours + exaggerated gasps

ENVELOPE TWO — snippets of our date

Once again, thank you so much for attending! It was really fun! I’ll send over the video for you next time…don’t forget to thank hinata for booking the room!! Thank you again!

P.S We blasted Melting — Kali Uchis

Lots of love,

Saiwa.

[kukuandkookie]

Because I’m…temporarily…not really active on my Twitter anymore and I’m still waffling on getting a Bluesky, both due to anxiety, I’ll just throw this thought out here lol:

The 188男团 taking over my brain has made me crave fanfiction in a way I admittedly don’t usually. 😆

If I were to guess, it’s because when a story is so angsty and sad in canon, it makes me crave post-canon fluff all the more. And I have found some absolutely lovely fics on Ao3, Lofter, and Weibo!! 99% of them have been in Chinese and I need a translator to help me read them, but I still love them so much.

But I will say there is a specific brand of “freaky” on Ao3 that doesn’t appear anywhere else, which…makes sense haha (it’s because of censorship LSNGKSHS). Weibo fic authors do sometimes throw out some freaky nsfw stuff too, usually by including a link to a different site or asking fans to dm them, but…Ao3 is where people may go to like…really let off steam.

I think that’s totally fine! I’m of the firm mindset that people should be allowed to enjoy whatever fiction they want, as long as it’s not hurting anyone in real life (the fact I’m obsessing over the 188男团 which is famously toxic may show that lmfao). But I’m not writing this to get into pro-ship versus anti discourse here. x’D

I’m writing this because I swear I’m technically a multi-shipper so I can be chill about breaking ships up (although I do prefer following canon) and I also know sometimes fanfics are just written to scratch an itch, but…

Why am I filled with such…banal frustration over the 188男团 characters being mischaracterized and having canonical ships broken up in an OOC way just to get some freaky sex (often with multiple people)? 😂

I’ll get into the main reason later, but I guess part of it could be that there’s shockingly few fics on Ao3 for Lijian and Yubai despite Lijian being so popular in China, so when a lot of the fics in the novel tag actually break up the main ship, it is a bit painful for me SLFJKSDH.

In reality, I know it’s not a big deal, and I’m totally cool with letting people play in their sandbox haha. And obviously I don’t harass writers for writing something I didn’t vibe with, and I avoid fics that make me uncomfortable.

But still. I have read a couple because sometimes tagging isn’t done perfectly in Chinese on Ao3 (I don’t blame them; language barrier and it’s often an unfamiliar website to them and all that, I get it), so sometimes I check one out when I want to get a feel for a fic…

And that’s why I’m emphasizing it’s a banal frustration—I know that in the grand scheme of things, this doesn’t matter. 😆

Regardless, I read a couple fics where they had Yu Fengcheng top Li Yu and it’s just like…they would not do that—let alone in that way—guys LDGMSHSKS.

I can kind of get people wanting Li Yu to be dicked down for his arrogance and temper, but seeing him being turned into a coquettish mess in fics where he bottoms is killing me a little haha. And Yu Fengcheng, who is my favourite 188男团 gong so far, being shown as disloyal to Bai Xinyu kills me a bit more because…he loves Bai Xinyu so much. He wouldn’t just abandon Bai Xinyu like that because he’s horny. 😭

In fact, every 188 gong is like this so they’re all possessive of and obsessed with their partners, but also…Yu Fengcheng has this specific brand of disliking sharing and even this sense of “mysophobia” where, before he even realized he was in love with Bai Xinyu, he already didn’t want Bai Xinyu or himself to touch anyone else.

And he is such a determined person when he tries to win Bai Xinyu back, and unlike other 188 gongs (that I’ve read so far), he never blames Bai Xinyu for disdaining him even though the ultimate thing that broke them up wasn’t fully Yu Fengcheng’s fault, and he hated being away from Bai Xinyu so much that he chose to be tortured closer to Bai Xinyu and he’d even feel a masochistic pleasure seeing Bai Xinyu spurn him, all because he didn’t want to be apart from him.

So what I’m saying is!! I like Yu Fengcheng a lot so obviously I’m biased, but seriously, he’d be one of the last people to leave his partner to fuck his “saozi (sister-in-law)” just because they’re pretty LSNGKSHSH.

My feelings are strong enough I do have a fic idea for this lmfao where Lijian and Yubai are shopping and while holding their partners’ bags, Yu Fengcheng and Li Yu get mistaken for being a couple, much to their chagrin. Bai Xinyu would find it funny, which would annoy Yu Fengcheng a bit, and with his shamelessness, he’d show everyone there that Bai Xinyu is his wife. And Li Yu wouldn’t want to be upstaged despite his own embarrassment at doing anything inappropriate publicly, especially when his Jian-ge may misunderstand and get upset. 😂

And yes, I do have (quite a few) Lijian and Yubai fic ideas. My obsession has officially run that deep lol. I just haven’t been in the mood to write lately due to kind of depression, but I’m hoping to pick myself back up soon.

Anyway, ending this little ramble with another “yeah, I know, it’s really not that big of a deal” (we do see a lot of jokes about this and how much pain super OOC fics and headcanons can bring us, but tbh I fault OOC headcanons and analyses more than I fault OOC fics, since the former can “damage” fandom perception of a character or theme in a more direct way. Overall though, it’s obviously not that important and I just wanted to mumble a bit about it here to get my thoughts out).

[sadhappylady]

If you’re still answering the fic asks:

14, 21, 33, 37.

If there’re any duplicates - feel free to sub something you wish you’d been asked 🌻

Thanks a lot for the ask @gulliblelemon! Some of these were quite hard, so took some time to figure out (and I 'unfortunately' had to reread all of Ex by @stretchoutfics to be able to answer the first question - what is a girl gonna do?? 🤷)

14.          your choice of fanfic for each season

Spring: maybe Känsla by despassurlaneige? I think it is set during summer, actually, but it's all about new beginnings and new feelings, so it has that 'I just have to dance barefoot in the garden even though it's far too cold, because the snow is gone and the sun is warm and God! everything is just perfect' vibe, if you get what I mean.

Summer:. Matters of adjustment by @sflow-er is the summerest of all summer fics. And Ex by @stretchoutfics is a summer holiday fic that is just too extraordinary to forego.

Autumn: inte framför dina ögon utan, utan att du knappt ser det by graveyardorgarden is depressing and sad, and really nails that November feeling, just ten times worse. (TW: eating disorders. Thank god it has a sequence where they're doing better.) Heartily recommended anyway, for anyone who reads Swedish.

Winter: I already gave you all my Christmas favs, so maybe Put Me Back Together and Take My Heart by @notalotgoingonatthisinstant. A winter fic where Simon gets a head injury and Wille doesn't care what anyone says anymore. Lots of angst! (Or if it's more of a fluff day: will you hold me tight and not let go? by @toffeelemon. Valentine friends to lovers fic.)

Which is the fanfic with your favorite scene of this scenario ?

21.          a dancing scene

Definitely Dancing through life by @pagegirlintraining, because I love it! (Haha, I use every opportunity to say so.) So many great dancing scenes, but their last routine is my favourite!

33.          Henry and Walter favorite fanfic

I said I'd do a list, so here's your list 😌

Closure by @stretchoutfics. So sad. Post break-up story. Seriously so sad, but also sooo good.

You Have Reached the Voicemail Box of... Henry and Walter by @zee-has-commitment-issues (you should start from the first part of the series, though, you won't regret it). Has Walter seriously been dating Henry all this time, and not noticed?

Other people's secrets and Matters of adjustment by @sflow-er. Ace Henry friends to lovers fic. Henry is watching Wilmon being Wilmon through s1, while also having revelations about himself and his roommate. Must-read. (Matters of adjustment is the second part of the series.)

Last chance by @sflow-er. Also ace Henry friends to lovers fic/coming out fic. Super cute. 

There Is No 'Without Me' by @verukamtl. Friends to lovers fic, with lots of pining. And I seem to remember a certain hickey in there 😳 I love this one!

oops, didn't see you there by Elisabeth13. Cute, funny sickfic where Walter hates germs and Henry catches a cold.

37.          the trope you didn't expect to like

I think the YR fandom attracts writers that find nuance interesting. Which is to say that I have enjoyed some Wilmon superhero fics. I have never liked action movies or superhero stories much, because they often have very black and white perspectives. Either you are the hero, or you are the villain. But Wilmon superhero fics tend to add a lot of nuance to this picture. For instance:

Where we come from by This_time_its_just_me

what lies within by museraphoria

Falling in webs by Etvie

I'm still open for more asks, just know that if I need to find a lot of fics, the answers will be slow. Will get to it, though 💜 Or if you ever look for a fic rec later!

[legacyshenanigans]

Questions for OCs

These were in my notes and I'd forgotten about them, can't remember for the life of me who/where I got the questions from, but I wanna do them for the boys 🐍🐺

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

Marvolo:

Quite a while, he actually rather enjoys doing NOTHING. it gives him time to just relax his mind.

Rowan:

Not too long, he likes a bit of relaxation, who doesn't? But he gets antsy fairly quickly, he doesn't like staying still, he fidgets a lot.

How easy is it for your character to really laugh?

Marvolo:

Totally depends on what's being said/done. He has quite a dark sense of humour, so anything like that, he finds extremely amusing.

Rowan:

Very easy, Rowan has a very simple and often dumb sense of humour.

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

Marvolo:

He often likes to do some reading before he sleeps. Depending on...Activities..Happening before bed 👀

Rowan:

Rowan is the type who will just stay awake until he can't anymore, he'll often just drag himself to his bed, or ANYWHERE comfortable and simply pass the fuck out in seconds.

How easy is it to earn their trust?

Marvolo:

Not very, with the circles he's runs in and the kinda people he meets and sees. He knows how folk can be. Everyone is on their guard at all times, making it hard. But once he does have trust in someone, he keeps those people close.

Rowan:

It's not that easy for Rowan either, He prefers to make some form of emotional bond or a friendship before allowing his trust to people.

How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

Marvolo:

Quite easy depending on what's happend I suppose. Any form of betrayal is an instant trigger for Marvolo. He despises that more than anything, and is rarely forgiving of it.

Rowan:

Slightly more forgiving than Marvolo in many ways, but it's still rather easy to earn his mistrust.

Do they consider laws flexible?

(I think it's obvious that both Marvolo and Rowan don't give a fuck about the law haha)

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Marvolo:

As much as they may argue at times, a standard brotherly relationship obviously, spending time with Ominis doing something they both actually enjoy brings alot of nostalgic feelings from their better times as kids for Marvolo, and yeah, he enjoys it, though he'd never admit it.

Rowan:

Being in nature in general gives Rowan those feelings, out on the hunt, taking a walk in the woods, being in his wolf form prowling around, anything like that really, making things out of stuff like animal parts and woods and what not also triggers this feeling from being taught how to do these things when he was a kid with his parents. He likes the feeling, though it's bittersweet.

What were they told to stop doing most often as a child?

Marvolo:

Annoying Ominis (lol). And disobeying his father.

Rowan:

Worrying about and questioning his potential as a Lycan.

Do they swear?

(All the fuckin time lmao, both of them)

Do they lie? Does it haunt them?

Marvolo:

Marvolo frequently lies about certain things, to protect himself, and those he cares about. It doesn't haunt him.

Rowan:

I mentioned this on the emotions post i did the other day, Rowan lies about silly things mainly, like denying when he's broken something even though its obvious it was him, I wouldn't go as far to say it "haunts him" when he does those things, but he does feel a little guilty lying.

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

Marvolo:

Marvolo doesn't like being confused. He'll often just sit there and stare at the person with an irritated frown on his face, waiting for them to explain better.

Rowan:

Rowan seeks clarification. He's often confused, bless his heart haha. "Huh?" "What does that mean?" "What do you mean?" "Dumb it down for me".

What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

Marvolo:

Black and Greens, and he absolutely suits it.

Rowan:

Red, and he does look rather good in red.

How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

Marvolo:

It's usually on the spot, but he's very good with his words. He has the "gift of the gab" So he's very confident in the words he uses.

Rowan:

Rowan isn't a very good speaker, it's on the spot and mainly blurted out before he has time to think.

Are they easily embarrassed?

Marvolo:

Depends on the situation. Generally? No. But when he's caught during a fragile moment, he does, such as having a cute little moment with MC by other people. He gets a little flustered because that side of him is reserved ONLY for her, and he doesn't really like other people seeing it.

Rowan:

Not really lmao, Rowan is a no shame kinda person, he doesn't get embarrassed often, but talking to someone he really cares about in a romantic way can sometimes make him a little blushy, thus embarrassing him slightly.

What embarrasses them?

(Caught or generally expressing vulnerable feelings, for both)

What is their favorite number?

Marvolo: 6.

Rowan: 15.

How does jealousy manifest itself in them?

(Possessiveness, in both of them)

How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)? 

Marvolo:

If someone has something Marvolo wants, he'll take it. He will make sure he gets what he wants.

Rowan:

Mainly complaining and being moody about it haha. It makes him grumpy.

Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about?

(Absolutely, neither of them are shy when it comes to the pleasures of sex and talking about it)

 What are their thoughts on marriage? 

Marvolo:

Never thought he ever would have, until he met MC.

Rowan:

Isn't against it, but he also doesn't really want it for himself.

 What is their preferred mode of transportation? 

Marvolo:

Floo network, or he disapparates.

Rowan:

To be honest, Rowan just likes a good run (often in wolf form) or walk mainly, if it's somewhere far away though he'll allow Marvolo to disapparate with him but he HATES it lmao.

 Do they usually live up to their own ideals? 

Marvolo:

Marvolo is confident in pretty much everything he does, and always accomplishes goals, so yeah, I'd say he feels like he's lives up to what he sets out.

Rowan:

Sadly, no. But it's a personal anxiety thing for him. Even if nothing is wrong and he's perfectly fine, and can accomplish things well, he still feels that niggly anxiety telling him it's not good enough.

 Who are they the most glad to have met? 

Marvolo:

MC. She opened up his world in feelings.

Rowan:

Marvolo, because he gave him sanctuary and friendship when he didn't have anyone or anything for the longest time.

How do they feel about children? 

Marvolo:

Open to having his OWN children. But in general most children seem to find Marvolo scary lmao.

Rowan:

Hates kids. They put him on edge.

If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so? 

Marvolo:

"I like what I like, that's it"

Rowan:

Rowan would say he's Bi.

~

[pigeonstab]

Ohh the bittys being a more open and vulnerable self of their counterparts is actually a really neat idea. New ways to embrass poor crossy. Lol.

Like i imagine bitty cross just going for the cuddles when he really neads one, butting his little head at the patting Hand or starting to let out cute lil purrs. Everyone looking first shocked then amused and then giving big cross a ratger funny look like saying "want some too?" and cross just looking in mortification.

Or bitty cross trying to take care of them by asking question where they hurt or what he can do to help or giving them things he thinks will help them out? And everyone be like "awww criss cross actually caring about us? How sweet~" and cross just flipping them off with a blush.

Or bitty cross being a good boi trying to help out. At ecample in the kitchen when horror cooks by getting him things he need or watching over that horror doesn't miss the timing in case he gets a memory laps or something. Or bitty cross doing the cutest kitten sneezes and everyone just thinking he cute. Cross never gets a break. And pats, lot of them.

Or bitty cross spending time with nightmare who lets him move his tendrils into a nest to chill in when he feels to warm or tired out or bit sickly. Maybe nm unconciously patting his head, when cross just comes into the office to give his report on a Mission and his mind stops working by watching that scene crumbling into a embrassed mess by his smaller counterpart using nm, his boss, like a cooling pad or something.

Lololol. Cross just being *hiding himself into the void of his hood, a lilac light glowing out* STOP HUGGING ME I DONT NEED CUDDLES! I'M STRONG I CAN DO THINGS ON MY OWN! I'M A SOLDIER, I'M NOT CUTE! LIES I DO NOT LIKE U IDIOTS!" or something along the lines. Maybe. He just shy baby.

I could imagine that the more bitty cross grows on them the others feel compelled to spoil him a lil giving him lil gifts like a cookie or New tiny cool (fluffy) clothes or toys when he bored or idk. Things. Maybe not often but from time to time at least. And perhaps they sometimes play or read him too, spending time with him cuz they actually enjoy being togethet ecen if they fight a lot. And by doing all that, they trying to tell cross he can just be a bit more open. He will get to teased to hell and back. But they want deny if he needs something. They accept him. Cuz at the end of day, as much as they all avoid admitting it and being broken in their own way, they feel as family.

Just some thoughts i had wgen reading ur previous reply. Asdtozitdg they so ADORABLE! Anyway even if u created it just by a whim i'm very happy u did!!! They so cute to play with and thinking about scenarios. Thanks for bringing it to the world. 🥰🥰🥰🤗 i adore them dearly!

- 🍓

Haha, I'm glad something I made could have that effect, bitties as a concept are rlly fun to play with I think. And really, they're just so darn cute.

[indigostudies]

tagged by @goose-the-corvid (thanks for the tag!!!)

questions:

🎧Last Song: i think it was "dancing without music" by BRDGS? i usually just play whatever youtube puts in my mix

🖍️Favorite Color: black is my favourite colour but i do enjoy various shades of blue and purple as well ^^

📚Last Book: currently reading "Gender, Power, and Talent: the Journey of Daoist Priestesses in Tang China" by Jia Jinhua for writing and academic reasons, so far it's very interesting!

🎥Last Film: i think "Seondal: The Man Who Sells the River" because i'm staying with my family over break and it was the only all-ages appropriate film i could find that i was actually willing to watch

📺Last TV Show: i'm currently watching Mr. Queen/Cheorin Wanghu and the cdrama 成化十四年/Fourteenth Year of Chenghua/Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty (very slowly because i keep getting busy)

🍜Sweet/Spicy/Savory: spicy! i love spicy food ^^

🥰Relationship Status: in a relationship! but lowkey haha, it's not something i talk about a lot

🛜Last thing I looked up: a youtube video of the li bai poem 九日龙山饮 for my study post for today

❤️Current Obssession: does it count as "current" if it's been around for years? in that case, languages and translation! i'm genuinely incredibly passionate about both of these topics and pursuits

🔮Looking forward to: starting qazaq classes in the winter quarter and baking more!

tagging:

@tofulearns @potentiallypolyglot and anyone else who sees this post, you're tagged!

[deadbydangit]

Hey! Just read a really good one from you! Made me go all mushy inside haha ☺️ is there any chance I could ask for Ghostface with a shy S/O who can clam up when teased too much? 💛 Feel free to ignore if you're flooded or anything lol

Absolutely. I'm going to add a few more characters if that's alright. Enjoy.

With a Reader who's shy SFW and NSFW (No NSFW for Hillbilly)

Ghostface, Trapper, Hillbilly

Ghostface

SFW

Get ready for teasing.

Lots of it.

He's the complete opposite of shy.

"What was that? I can't hear you. Speak up. I don't know what you want."

Don't like social situations?

That's too bad, because you're going everywhere with him.

He'll even throw parties if it means making you have to socialize.

Even if it makes you super uncomfortable.

Don't want to talk?

"Hey Kazan. S/O wants to talk to you."

He really just wants you to come out of your shell.

Danny doesn't expect you to be the most outgoing person in the world.

Just be a little braver.

If the teasing is too much, you'll have to tell him.

But he won't know when to quit.

He loves you, he just wants to see more of you

He knows underneath that shy exterior, lies something more

NSFW

You think he's a tease outside?

Try in the bredroom.

He's going to make you ask for what you want.

"Tell me baby? Otherwise, it's going to be all about me. Understand?"

He's naturally dominant in the bedroom, so you being shy is an advantage to him.

He is going to edge you on and on until you either tell him what you want or you end up in tears.

Even if you're crying, he'll still keep going.

Say what you want, cause that won't end if you don't.

"If you want to cum, say it. I won't let you otherwise."

If you get really upset, he'll stop.

At the end, he'll praise you.

"You did good. I'm proud of you for speaking up."

"See, you just tell me what you want, and it's all yours baby."

He loves your shy side though.

And he wouldn't want it any other way.

Trapper

You're shy?

Well, he isn't the most social person.

You being more quiet doesn't really bother him too much.

Evan actually prefers having a partner who isn't super talkative.

He would rather stay home then go to some party too.

However, he would like it if you asserted yourself more.

He doesn't really tease as much as Danny would.

He's definitely more aggressive in his approaches.

"Speak up."

"If you want something, tell me. Otherwise I can't help you."

"Stop acting like that. You aren't a child."

It's because he loves you.

He wants to make sure you'll be okay when he isn't around.

He'd be devastated if something happened to you.

NSFW

Like Danny, Evan is a bit of a tease.

"If you want something, you better say it."

He's much rougher.

He won't let you cum unless you ask.

He doesn't care if you're crying.

He's going to make you toughen up wether you like it or not.

But when you do say what you want? You'll be in heaven.

For your bravery, he's going to reward you to the fullest.

"See. See how good I can make you feel if you just ask."

He's going to have you do one more thing before he gives you his best.

"Scream my name. Come on. Scream it!"

Once you do, get ready, he's going to rock your world.

It may seem cruel, but that's just how he shows how much he cares about you

Hillbilly

Max is pretty shy too.

So it isn't much of a bother.

And, unlike the others, he wants to make sure you're comfortable.

He would never push you to do something you don't want.

Want to stay home?

That's okay.

He'd rather be with just you.

Don't want to talk to that person?

You don't have to.

He does wish you'd talk more to him though.

He wants to help you.

Talking in general is difficult for him.

Not because he doesn't want to, but because he physically can't.

Let's work on this together!

It's going to be hard, but he knows you can do it!

He believes in you.

If it means you have to start going to parties, then that's what you're going to do.

He's generally liked by all the killers, so they don't mind helping him out.

He'll start small. Rin and Sally are good about helping.

He loves you so much.

He'll do anything to help you.