#idk. i talked too much about french not to tag it.

[boys-reverie]

This is Eleanor "Elle" Reed. My favorite Crush Crush character. And as such, in my infinite tboy wisdom, I (baselessly) headcanon "her" as a trans guy (aka basically an elle-based oc at this point).

I've actually just learned that his first full name was Eleanor, so when I first saw the name Elle, my mind went to the french pronoun. So for a name, I stuck with french pronouns. Except Il (il, 'he' equivalent) was too short for me, so I went with Iel (iel, 'they' equivalent).

I've also just learned I've been pronouncing "iel" wrong all this time. I was going "ee-el" all while it's way more fluid: "yel" <- another way to spell it. Luckily I've never had to actually use it but now I know for when I do. ...Still would have to figure out the general/most common way of neutralizing adjectives and other things that change for masculine/feminine. My french teacher talked about one way with a period in there ("acteur.euse" maybe he said?), which I wasn't really all that cool with but since then, I've seen a video about how german speakers are tackling it (they tend to use the gender star, basically an asterisk), so i really can't be bothered to have an opinion if this is just going to be a more common phenomenon among gendered languages in an attempt to be more inclusive (especially as i clearly dont speak a gendered language or have any knowledge that might help me create a system i like more).

[longagoitwastuesday]

So so indebted to u for posting those lovely illustrations from Cyrano <333 & even more so for yr tags!! I'm completely in love w yr analysis, please feel free to ramble as long as u wish! Browsing through yr Cyrano de Bergerac tag has given me glimpses of so many adaptations & translations I'd never heard of before! I'll be watching the Solès version next, which I have only discovered today through u ^_^ As for translations, have u read many/all of them? I've only encountered the Renauld & Burgess translations in the wild, & I was curious to hear yr translation thoughts that they might guide my decision on which one I buy first (not necessarily Renauld or Burgess ofc). Have a splendid day & sorry for the likespam! 💙

Sorry for the delay. Don't mind the likespam, I'm glad you enjoyed my tags about Cyrano, and that they could contribute a bit to a further appreciation of the play. I loved it a lot, I got obsessed with it for months. It's always nice to know other people deeply love too that which is loved haha I hope you enjoy the Solès version, it may well be my favourite one!

About translations, I'm touched you're asking me, but I don't really know whether mine is the best opinion to ask. I have read... four or five English translations iirc, the ones I could find online, and I do (and especially did, back when I was reading them) have a lot of opinions about them. However, nor English nor French are my first languages (they are third and fourth respectively, so not even close). I just read and compare translations because that's one of my favourite things to do.

The fact is that no translation is perfect, of course. I barely remember Renauld's, but I think it was quite literal; that's good for understanding the basics of the text, concepts and characters, but form is subject, and there's always something that escapes too literal translations. Thomas and Guillemard's if I recall correctly is similar to Hooker's in cadence. It had some beautiful fragments, some I preferred over Hooker's, but overall I think to recall I liked Hooker's more. If memory serves, Hooker's was the most traditionally poetic and beautiful in my opinion. Burgess' is a whole different thing, with its perks and drawbacks.

Something noticeable in the other translations is that they are too... "epic". They do well the poetic, sorrowful, grief stricken, crushed by regrets aspects of Cyrano and the play in general, but they fall quite short in the funny and even pathetic aspects, and that too is key in Cyrano, both character and play. Given the characteristics of both languages, following the cadence of the French too literally, with those long verses, makes an English version sound far too solemn at times when the French text isn't. Thus Burgess changes the very cadence of the text, adapting it more to the English language. This translation is the one that best sets the different moods in the play, and as I said before form is subject, and that too is key: after all, the poetic aspect of Cyrano is as much true as his angry facet and his goofy one. If Cyrano isn't funny he isn't Cyrano, just as he wouldn't be Cyrano without his devotion to Roxane or his insecurities; Cyrano is who he is precisely because he has all these facets, because one side covers the other, because one trait is born from another, because one facet is used as weapon to protect the others, like a game of mirrors and smoke. We see them at different points through the play, often converging. Burgess' enhances that. He plays with the language itself in form and musicality, with words and absences, with truths masking other truths, with things stated but untold, much like Cyrano does. And the stage directions, poetic and with literary value in their own right in a way that reminded me of Valle Inclán and Oscar Wilde, interact with the text at times in an almost metatextual dimension that enhances that bond Cyrano has with words, giving them a sort of liminal air and strengthening that constant in the play: that words both conceal and unveil Cyrano, that in words he hides and words give him away.

But not all is good, at all. Unlike Hooker, Burgess reads to me as not entirely understanding every facet of the characters, and as if he didn't even like the play all that much, as if he had a bit of a disdainful attitude towards it, and found it too mushy. Which I can understand, but then why do you translate it? In my opinion the Burgess' translation does well bending English to transmit the different moods the French text does, and does pretty well understanding the more solemn, cool, funny, angry, poetic aspects of Cyrano, but less so his devotion, vulnerability, insecurities and his pathetism. It doesn't seem to get Roxane at all, how similar she is to Cyrano, nor why she has so many admirers. It does a very poor job at understanding Christian and his value, and writes him off as stupid imo. While I enjoyed the language aspect of the Burgess translation, I remember being quite angry at certain points reading it because of what it did to the characters and some changes he introduces. I think he did something very questionable with Le Bret and Castel-Jaloux, and I remember being incensed because of Roxane at times (for instance, she doesn't go to Arras in his version, which is a key scene to show just how much fire Roxane has, and that establishes several parallels with Cyrano, in attitude and words, but even in act since she does a bit what Cyrano later does with the nuns in the last act), and being very angry at several choices about Christian too. While not explicitly stated, I think the McAvoy production and the musical both follow this translation, because they too introduce these changes, and they make Christian as a character, and to an extent the entire play, not make sense.

For instance, once such change is that Christian is afraid that Roxane will be cultured (McAvoy's version has that infamous "shit"/"fuck" that I detest), when in the original French it's literally the opposite. He is not afraid she will be cultured, he is afraid she won't, because he does love and appreciate and admires those aspects of her, as he appreciates and admires them in Cyrano. That's key! Just as Cyrano longs to have what Christian has, Christian wants the same! That words escape him doesn't mean he doesn't understand or appreciate them. The dynamics make no sense without this aspect, and Burgess (and the productions that directly or indirectly follow him) constantly erases this core trait of Christian.

Another key moment of Christian Burgess butchers is the scene in Arras in which Christian discovers the truth. Burgess writes their discussion masterfully in form, it's both funny and poignant, but it falls short in concept: when Cyrano tells him the whole discussion about who does Roxane love and what will happen, what they'll do, is academic because they're both going to die, Christian states that dying is his role now. This destroys entirely the thing with Christian wanting Roxane to have the right to know, and the freedom to choose, or to refuse them both. As much as Cyrano proclaims his love for truth and not mincing words even in the face of authority, Cyrano is constantly drunk on lies and mirages, masks and metaphors. It's Christian who wants it all to end, the one who wants real things, the one who wants to risk his own happiness for the chance of his friend's, as well as for the woman he loves to stop living in a lie. That is a very interesting aspect of Christian, and another aspect in which he is written as both paralleling and contrasting Cyrano. It's interesting from a moral perspective and how that works with the characters, but it's also interesting from a conceptual point of view, both in text and metatextually: what they hold most dear, what they most want, what most fulfills them, what they most fear, their different approaches to life, but also metatextually another instance of that tears/blood motif and its ramifications constant through the whole text. Erasing that climatic decision and making him just simply suicidal erases those aspects of Christian and his place in the Christian/Cyrano/Roxane dynamic, all for plain superficial angst, that perhaps hits more in the moment, but holds less meaning.

Being more literal, and more solemn, Hooker's translation (or any of the others, but Hooker's seems to love the characters and understand them) doesn't make these conceptual mistakes. Now, would I not recommend reading Burgess' translation? I can't also say that. I had a lot of fun reading it, despite the occasional anger and indignation haha Would I recommend buying it? I recommend you give an eye to it first, if you're tempted and can initially only buy one.

You can read Burgess' translation entirely in archive.com. You can also find online the complete translations of Renauld, Hooker and Thomas and Guillemard. I also found a fifth one, iirc, but I can't recall it right now (I could give a look). You could read them before choosing, or read your favourite scenes and fragments in the different translations, and choose the one in which you like them better. That's often what I do.

Edit: I've checked to make sure and Roxane does appear in Arras in the translation. It's in the introduction in which it is stated that she doesn't appear in the production for which the translation was made. The conceptualisation of Roxane I criticise and that in my opinion is constant through the text does stay, though.

[kaysungshine]

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .☽ fae trap ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

{ Pairing } - Elf!Felix x Witch.afab!Reader

{ Genre } - Smut, Dark, Fantasy

{ Synopsis } - It is said, that if you ever find yourself inside of a fairy ring. The fae will punish you, by making you dance until you are passing out from exhaustion. But when you find yourself doing a different kind of 'dance' on the ground, in the middle of one, with the most beautiful creature you've ever seen you might add, you wonder; is this truly a punishment?

{ WC } - 7.7k

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, dubcon, aphrodisiac effects, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected sex (piv; do as I say, not as I write & pee after sex!), rough/hard sex, overstimulation, big dick felix, dacryphilia, talk of breeding & mating, talking of mating rituals, please don't touch fly agaric mushrooms, srsly they're toxic and deadly, possible incorrect french usage.

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - For the love of all things skz. DO NOT EVER TOUCH FLY AGARIC/AMANITA MUSCARIA MUSHROOMS. THEY ARE TOXIC. DEADLY. This is also probably the darkest thing I've written on this account so far. But it doesn't feel inherently evil to me personally??? But it is enough to warrant a TW! This started off as a birthday oneshot for Felix. I'm starting to think I'm no good at oneshots. This could be left alone, but it could also be a series... I have so many world building thoughts, but idk if I wanna do that. What do you think?

Dusk was approaching as you made your way home from your walk. 

You were blessed to own a cute little home, right on the edge of a beautiful and mysterious forest. Every day you were able to take nature walks, wandering through the treeline, exploring the vegetation. Collecting materials, making sure never to take too much of what the woodland had to offer. And caring for as much as you could, though you knew you were not essential to the survival of wilderness itself. 

That didn't stop you from befriending the little critters who made their home there, or from essentially finding your own second home there. 

You never brought anything with you to permanently invade nature. Instead you wrapped your daily essentials in a little bindle. It usually contained a hearty snack, a book or two, endless vials and jars, your cell, and a small emergency kit. Homemade salves, balms, and tonics included. 

You always had some new shiny objects for your crow friends, making sure to exchange the gifts they left for you at your designated spot. And you always made sure to leave some nuts and seeds for the various rodents who liked to stuff their cheeks. Again, you didn't need to, but they really liked sweet black walnuts and salty peanuts in the shells. Who were you to deny them that treat! 

Some days you brought select crystals with you, cleaning and recharging them in the streams of spring water. Other days you'd use that same water, sealing it in jars and leaving it nearby to make moon water overnight. Those were about the only two things you ever left in the forest, always making sure to come back the next day and retrieve them. 

You always carry a little basket with you too. The forest was abundant in ingredients for many different things. Your favorite is mushrooms and fungi. 

There were many times you'd find a log of an oak tree, fallen over and resting on the ground. A bunch of chicken of the woods growing on it. You'd collect them, taking them home to cook for dinner or other meals.

Other days you'd find lion's mane, and make sure to gather some for your favorite tincture to make and take. It did wonders for your anxiety. 

You were a green witch through and through, and you were raised this way. You drew your energy and essence from nature, always taking little bits of it home. 

Today was no different. Forgoing mushrooms, you instead had bundles of mugwort and a jar full of mulberries in your wicker basket. Wrapped in a little cloth were a bunch of spicebush berries.

You were nearing the last clearing within the woods, your house was about a ten minute walk away at this point. 

The soft moss against your bare feet was grounding, and you were listening to the buzz and crackle of nightlife within the forest. Your white skirt ended at your knees, flaring out. The chiffon is blowing in the cool breeze. It was still tshirt weather, and that's exactly what you wore on top. A fitted one, pale and muted ivy green. You gave up on bras long ago, you were a solitary creature anyways. The friends who did visit never cared about your attire.

You were in your own world, playing a balancing game on a stump and humming to yourself, when flashes of red caught your eye. 

In the clearing, scattered in a broken circle, was fly agaric. 

Your heart fluttered at this rare find. You walk past this clearing daily, and never noticed any of the red mushrooms with white speckles there before. 

Eagerly, you approach. In the back of your mind, warning bells are going off. Thinking back to childhood, of the stories your mom once told you of the fae folk. You'd encountered fairy rings before, but never of this type of mushroom, and never broken ones. Certainly never one so big. You never breached the little white rings in the past, not wanting to mess with entities so possibly mischievous. 

But it would be fine right? This might not even be considered a fairy ring. It was sort of... circle-ish? But not really. There were so many gaps in between them, it wasn't a perfect circle like you'd seen in the past. And these mushrooms were so rare and so powerful, in so many ways. You could feel their energy radiating around you.

You glanced around, searching for any signs of immortal creatures lurking near. You saw and heard nothing, but that would be typical. They never willingly reveal themselves, in fact... You've never seen one. You've never seen any kind of fae folk. It's not that you didn't believe in them, you were sure some form of them existed. Afterall, you practice a form of magick. Your own form, and that exists. 

You were convinced all mythical creatures either exist or had existed, the idea of them couldn't come from nothing. Not when they were in so many stories across all different cultures. 

You paused for a few more moments, really trying to feel any negative energy. There was none, there was never any in your little forest. 

So, tentatively, you took a few steps forward. Then you paused again, waiting for something to pop out. 

Nothing.

You giggled to yourself happily, and then bent down to pluck the mushrooms from the marshy earth. 

They all varied in size, some were large with bulbous caps. Some were shorter, and had flatter caps. Each mushroom, you made sure to pick with a cloth barrier between them and your fingers. These could be deadly if used the wrong way or taken in excess. You had no idea what would happen if you came into direct contact with it, on your bare skin. 

You really should start carrying gloves with you.

You made your way around the broken circle, humming in between giggles, and unconsciously dancing. You were nearly prancing each bare step to the next. 

If you had paid more attention to your mothers tales, you'd realize the consequences of stepping inside a fairy ring were already taking effect.

You were collecting more than you needed now, your basket was overflowing. But still, you didn't want to stop. You felt strangely overcome with merriment. You never felt more at home in these woods than this moment. 

You mindlessly set your basket down, your humming growing in volume. You looked to the sky, as you allowed your body to sway back and forth. Arms stretched out towards the waning moon, coming to life in the dark sky surrounding you. 

Your eyes closed, soaking in the moonlight. And you brought your arms back down, letting them float at your sides as you twirled, and twirled. Your skirt flutters up to reveal your thighs even more, hair whipping in your face. You revelled in the feeling of the squishy dirt beneath your feet. You felt grounded, but as if you were flying all at the same time.

You don't know when your solitude was breached, or if you were ever truly alone in the first place, but you finally noticed his presence when his hands intertwined with yours. 

He was twirling with you, spinning you in circles. 

He was nearly glowing, strawberry colored lips revealing the sweetest smile you'd ever seen. His long, straight white hair framed his face stunningly, tendrils of it outlining his strong jaw line. And his face... so, perfect. He had hundreds of freckles splashed across his cheeks, nose and eyes. Even some scattering up to his hairline, and down to his chin. You'd imagine you could create many constellations with them, like the stars that twinkle in the night sky. He adorned various jewelry, all silver. In his ears, and a cuff across the bridge of his nose. He even wore a gorgeous crown that laid across his forehead as a head piece. It was thin, and wiry, made up of gorgeous silver filigree that shone in the moonlight. You knew that the rings you felt in between your fingers would be silver too. 

He wore all white. You couldn't be sure exactly what his outfit was, but his shirt was a flowing lace up top. Revealing delicate collar bones and toned chest. It was mostly a blur in the midst of his movements. 

Your gasp was delayed, only coming out when he pulled you closer to him. Your hand remains in his, while his arm is wrapped around your waist. You were nearly flush with him, feeling the rest of his chiseled torso against your plush body. But he kept your face at some distance to maintain eye contact. The smile never slipped from his lips. 

He has you captivated, and the two of you don't falter in your melodic movements once. His eyes bore into you, dark and sharp. Yet he exuded a certain softness, and you found yourself lost in the moment. It didn't seem real. 

But it was. 

You were seeing him. In all his glory, ever mysterious and breathtaking. The most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on. 

You were hearing him. He was humming the same tune you were, an old lullaby your mom used to sing to you. His voice was deep, and even, harmonizing with your breathy high pitched voice beautifully. 

You were feeling him. He was touching you, his hand interlocked with yours. His grip around your waist is gentle but possessive. He held you like he didn't want to break you, but knew if he was too loose, you'd go running. 

Though you weren't so sure you would run. 

Your mind was racing. There's no way you could stumble across a perfect stranger, who was immediately dancing with you, so close to the edge of the forest. So close to your house. Maybe this was some sort of hallucination. A side effect of being surrounded by so many toxic mushrooms. 

The mushrooms. 

That was it, it all clicked. Too late did the rest of your mother's words ring in your ears. 

His aura, his energy, his perfect pixie-like features. You noticed the point of his ears now, the glittery sheen to his skin. His smile is full of white pointed teeth, dull now, but you could tell they were once sharper in the past. His slight cat-like eyes, giving them that sharp look even though everything else about him screamed delicate.

Your humming stopped, but his didn't. Your mother's voice is filling your head, and you were repeating the words she once told you so long ago. 

'and if you're caught, the fae folk will punish you. You'll be dancing within the ring until you faint from exhaustion.' you whispered quietly. 

His smile only grew, a glint lighting up his eyes. 

He finally spoke, his chest vibrating against yours, "Wise words, from a magnificent young lady."

He had an accent, you couldn't quite place it. Something between old english and australian. It made you want to melt. 

He started laughing, and you were sure that if he didn't have a grip on you, you would've slid to the ground. 

You've both stopped twirling, but he's still moving you, moving with you. Swaying back and forth. 

"Who are you?" You ask curiously. 

"Who?" He chuckles, "Usually it's 'what are you', that people ask me. Though it's been almost a century since I have revealed myself to a mortal."

A century? Your mouth dries, and you feel something akin to fear course through your veins. But you aren't scared of him for some reason. Wary, suspicious, but not scared. 

"You're different though, you seem to have at least a diminutive amount of knowledge of my realm." 

You want to get angry at that comment. You'd like to consider yourself well informed and educated on all supernatural and magickal subjects. There'd always be more to learn though, and the human brain simply could not grasp it in its entirety. So he wasn't wrong. 

You're still saying nothing, dazed from his presence. So he continues. 

"You were right when you said fae folk." He assures. 

"You're a fairy?" You whisper, wonder dazzling in your voice.

At that he laughs again, and you swear you hear small chimes behind it.

"An elf. I believe that is the universal name humans gave us. Not all fae are fairies, there are others too." 

As he speaks, he lets go of your hand, bringing his fingers up to brush strands of hair from your face. His touch is warm, for some reason that shocks you. 

"Elf." You repeat, not a question, but a statement.

He hums, in agreement and starts to twirl you around again. His hand resting on your cheek, thumb brushing featherlight touches against it. 

You're trying very hard to wrap your head around the entire scenario. You shouldn't be surprised. You've dealt with other worldly things in the past. Spiritual realms are completely different from anything having to do with the fae world though. 

Worry floods through you again once you realize what's happening. 

"Am I being punished?" You lip quivers as you speak, "I-I was just trying to collec-"

He's bringing his head down, his forehead meeting yours. You feel the cold bite of the silver headpiece touching your skin. It's enough to shut you up.

"Shhh, darling. Don't view it as a punishment." 

"I don't want to dance until I pass out." You slowly say, even though your body feels otherwise.

Underneath the initial shock and caution, you still felt that overwhelming happiness. It was borderline euphoric... and strangely arousing. 

Everything happening inside your mind and body right now was so confusing. You were feeling lost, and found yourself clinging to the man--the elf, before you. 

"You pretty creature, don't worry. Danser dans le ronds de sorcières... that's for children." 

French? This being was a riddle. 

"I don't understand." You force out. 

He leans back a bit, so he can look into your eyes and your thighs clench, "We tell the kids, fae and human, that if a mortal is caught within our rings. They dance to exhaustion. The humans carried this myth with them into adulthood, while our kind later learned the truth of these special rings." 

He's still dancing with you, moving your body elegantly to a now imaginary song. Leading you in something reminiscent of a waltz, but you can barely focus on that when his touches are electric against your skin. 

"The truth?" You ask. 

He's dipping you down now, bending with your body as he once again is peering into your eyes. At first you think it's part of the dance. Until your back meets the land that was underneath your feet. The mixture of smells was potent. The scent of damp moss, and semi-sweet foliage filling your nose. 

He hums again, "It was never an entire lie, it always started off with dancing." 

The timbre of his voice was pooling wetness in your panties. You felt beads of sweat forming on your brow, and you were bewildered at how your body was reacting right now. It didn't make sense. 

His body is hovering over you now, his face coming close to yours. His nose is brushing along yours before he speaks again. 

"What better way to set the mood than a passionate dance, and in this case, under the moonlight?"

You whimpered, feeling disoriented and needing his touch. 

"I don't even know your name.", was the only thing you managed to mumble. 

He chuckled, and you felt his breath puff against your lips, "It's unimportant darling, but since you're so... alluring. You can call me Felix... I'd love to hear it rolling off your tongue when I make you cum."

You were mewling at the thought of fucking this mystical being, when you felt his lips against yours.

He was almost lazy in the way he kissed you. Seemingly in no rush at all. And it's not that you were complaining, but you wanted more. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing his body flush with yours.��

He was smiling against your lips now, and you took the opportunity to swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, begging for access. 

"So eager. Patience little dove. You'll get what you desire and more." 

You knew it was absurd to lust after a man--an elf, gods how could you keep forgetting that, that you just met. But your body was burning and it felt like he was your only rescue. 

His hands wandered your body, groping and massaging every inch. 

He had your leg wrapped around him, his hand trailing down the back of your thigh and his lips attached to your neck. He was marking you with what you imagined to be the most beautiful bruises. You were panting at this point, and it felt ridiculous to be this turned on by so little. By a stranger. But it didn't make you want to stop.

His fingers reached the edge of your panties, and you gasped. You felt his smile again, he was enjoying every bit of this. You felt powerless to his strokes against you. Your hips were bucking up, chasing for friction.

His hand gripped your hip tightly, fingers squeezing into your flesh, pinning you further into the dirt. 

You hissed before whining, begging "Please."

"I said be patient." His voice was stern as he spoke against your ear.

It still didn't stop you from squirming beneath him, your mind wasn't registering anything beyond wanting to feel him filling you up. 

He brought his face back to yours, eyes gleaming and the most naughty expression written across it. 

"Fine. As you wish, little dove. But don't forget, I was trying to ease you into this." 

He tore your panties off of you, and his fingers were rubbing against you harshly, sending jolts of pleasure through you. 

"A-aaah!" You were moaning loudly, his movements jarring.

"This is what you wanted darling, isn't it?" He's muttering against your lips now, slipping his fingers into you. 

Your body feels more alive than ever, waves of pleasure washing over you. His fingers skillfully curl inside you, while his thumb works your sensitive bud. Swipe after swipe, eliciting more and more of your arousal onto his hand. 

His kiss is searing, and feels like the only thing currently keeping you anchored to your body. You felt your orgasm building quickly, the band growing tighter and tighter in your stomach. It felt like you'd float away when it snapped. 

You can't contain the lewd noises you're making. Between the moans he's swallowing from your lips, and the loud squelching from between your thighs, it was deafening. Or maybe it was just that your ears were ringing. 

It felt like only seconds later when he brought you over the edge, his movements slowing but never stopping. You're whining, and your legs are trembling but you don't want him to stop. You're nearing over sensitivity and when you close your eyes, you see nothing but stars.

All you can think of are the freckled constellations on his cheek. 

You feel drunk on this moment, and you don't want it to end. It's as if he knows exactly where your mind is when he speaks again.

"You're not done little dove, don't you worry your pretty little head." 

When you open your eyes, and tilt your head up, his shirt and pants are discarded. Revealing a dizzying body. He was lithe yet chiseled. His body is almost dainty, but each muscle is carved in the most irresistible way. His abs were glorious, your eyes trail lower, following the v cut. You notice the faint spattering of a happy trail, and your eyes follow it. 

And fuck.

You've never been one to view someones cock as pretty but... his was. The tip was so swollen and pink, and leaking generous amounts of precum. Faint blue veins prominent along the shaft, and he stood tall and proud. His girth made you wonder if you could handle the stretch. It had been a while since you'd last been intimate. 

He brought his hand, covered in your slick, to his member. Spreading it all over in a mixture with his precum, making it glisten. Your mouth started to water, and your legs spread wider for him. You pulled your skirt completely up, presenting yourself to him. 

His jaw was slack, mouth hung open as he watched you, fist pumping himself slowly. 

"Such a good girl for me darling, aren't you?" He said with that charming smile. 

There was something about the way he looked at you, while doing such a perverse act that had your juices dripping down you. 

Then he was on top of you again, cock sliding into you. Your entire body tensed at the intrusion and you wailed, a mix of pain and pleasure. But it was so satisfying, you couldn't get enough. Your arms wrapped around his neck again, and he was thrusting into you at a brutal pace. 

Your back was digging into the ground, and you started to feel bits of grass and dirt against your skin. You pulled against him, trying to adjust yourself so you could lose yourself in the dance you two were now performing. 

He pulled out of you, and sat back on his knees, that's when you noticed his clothes underneath him. You had no idea he was wearing a cape earlier. It was sprawled out, creating a barrier between him and the ground. 

He picked you up, and positioned you to straddle his lap, facing him. Then he slid back into you, your eyes rolled back, and you let out a filthy moan. 

This position felt more intimate but still desperate, he was reaching deeper into you. The head of his cock pistoning against your g-spot. It felt so good you could cry. 

You were crying, you realized. 

"Shhh, little dove, you're taking it so well. It feels so good, doesn't it?" 

"Yes!" You sob. 

He's wiping the tears from your eyes with his fingers, and smiling at you like you're the most precious thing on this planet. 

"That's right, pretty. So pretty when you cry." He groans out, and his pace grows faster, rougher.

His hand dips down between you, and he's toying with your clit now. In any other circumstance, you'd be embarrassed by the way your body uncontrollably trembles. Your muscles are spasming at his touch. You just couldn't bring yourself to care, he was making you feel too good. 

"Darling," He purred, as he slowed his thrusts and pinched your clit between two fingers, rolling it, "I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum for me, can you do that?" 

You were mewling as you nodded your head frantically, feeling your peak rush towards you. 

At that he started fucking into you harshly, almost painfully, and you were coming undone with a loud cry on top of him. Your body tensed, nails digging into his shoulders, struggling not to throw your head back. His hand that was playing with you, gripped your jaw, smearing your own arousal on your face.

He was making sure you kept your word, maintaining your gaze on his while you clenched around him. Your eyes were fluttering as you tried to keep them open. He was biting his lip, eyebrows scrunched together as he fucked you through your orgasm. Watching your face contorted in pleasure. 

"So tight." He grunted.

You were scratching at him now, nails dragging down his shoulders. And your mouth was hung open in a silent scream, your voice having given up on you. 

It was becoming overwhelming. 

You still didn't want it to stop.

"I know you can take it darling, take it." He growled, gripping both your hips now to steady you.

So you did, until you were limp in his arms, and he was releasing into you with a groan. 

Your head was resting on his shoulder. Sweaty skin sticking to each other, and he was soothing you. Humming and stroking your hair gently. You were breathing heavily, trying to come down from this mind blowing experience. But you weren't descending, not mentally. You were still riding that high, stuck in a lust filled haze. 

He started to roll his hips tantalizingly slow, and you hissed at it, feeling slight pain. Mostly you were shocked he was still hard. 

His chest vibrated while he quietly laughed, "Did you forget the 'more' part, darling. I keep telling you, we're not done yet." 

You whined at the sensation of his gentle movements. 

"Shhh, there there." He's teasing you, "Are we a little sore?"

"Yes." You breathed.

"I can fix that." 

You gasped when he slid out of you, hating the fact that you felt so empty. 

He was positioning you to lay down on his clothes, taking care that no part of you touched the ground. You just let him handle you, molding your pliant body however he wanted it.

His hands were rubbing down your arms, and he was smiling down at you. When you met his eyes, you couldn't explain the exact emotions you were feeling. You'd let this man take your soul if he asked right now. 

He was licking his lips as his hand trailed back to your core. You gasped again, then whined when he dragged his fingers through your swollen folds. His touch was almost massaging, yet sensual. He was touching everywhere, teasingly avoiding your sensitive bud. 

The more he touched you, the more you writhed. And sensing another comment about how you can't be still or patient, you yanked him down to you so you could kiss him. 

You were tired of just laying there, you wanted to start giving. To start touching.

You didn't know where all this stamina came from, but you were determined to use it. You jerked your hips up, leaning more into his touch. 

It wasn't until you reached down to wrap your fingers around his length that he paused his movements. 

He was still slick with your cum. And you used that to give him slow strokes.

He let out a hoarse moan against your lips, before pressing his fingers directly on your clit, rubbing in small circles. He was matching your tempo directly. You whined into the kiss, your hand picking up pace. Pumping him faster now, and he followed your lead. 

Or so you thought, just as you felt your climax starting to build, his fingers were being pulled away. 

He took your hand off him, and then crawled down your body, coming face to face with your core. 

"So pretty, even here darling." 

You were blushing at his words, but you couldn't take your eyes off of his, as he stared at you from between your thighs. 

"Still sore? Let me make it feel better, little dove." 

And you felt his tongue lave through your folds. It was gentle and it felt hot, and it drove you crazy. The flicks of his tongue against your clit were maddening, and you wanted more. 

Your hips started slowly moving against his face, and this time he let you. He lets you roll your hips, and grind against his face. His tongue flattened against you, and you slid your hand into his blindingly white locks. You started grinding against him harshly, losing all sense and control of your body and just focusing on climaxing. 

He let himself be used by you, and as your grip in his hair tightened, so did that feeling in your stomach. You felt another orgasm come over you, and he let you ride it out, quite literally.  

You expected to start feeling spent by now, but you didn't. So before he could climb back up your body to kiss you, you were sitting up and pushing him onto his back.

He landed on it with a thud, puffing out air and looking at you incredulously. 

You let the primal urges take over as you lowered yourself onto your stomach, and took his member in your hand. You licked up the underside of his cock, your eyes never leaving his. He groaned as you watched his eyes roll into the back of his head. 

You placed a soft kiss on the tip, and licked the strings of precum off your lips. 

"Fuck..." He whispered.

"Let me return the favor." You mumbled before you took his tip between your lips.

You let your tongue swirl over it a few times, savoring his taste. He brought his hand down to your face, and pushed your hair back for you. 

You let your tongue run down the underside of his cock, and you sunk your mouth onto him. You had completely engulfed him, and were struggling not to gag. Still, you never intended to stop. 

He was grunting as your head bobbed up and down on him, saliva collecting at the corners of your mouth and dripping down to pool at his pelvis. 

"Making--ah fuck--such a mess for me, darling." He groaned. 

He lets you keep at your own pace for a while longer before he starts thrusting into you. He kept your head in place, and you gagged and tears started running down your cheeks. Each stroke became more and more erratic, until ropes of his hot cum were shooting down your throat. 

He pulled you off of him and you gulped down breaths of air. He was caressing your cheek, swiping a mix of tears, spit and cum from your lips before kissing you. 

That's how you both continued throughout the night. Pleasuring each other, nearly non-stop, under the moonlight. Your mind was fractured, nothing else but him existed inside of it. He'd touched, fondled, massaged, and embraced you, until you could only respond with breathy whispers of his name. 

"Felix..." You sighed, when he was bringing feeling back to your numb legs by massaging them.

"Felix..." You moaned, as he slowly took you as you both laid on your sides.

"Felix..." You screamed as you came undone on top of him, riding him roughly.

He took you in many different positions, and you indulge yourself in each one. When he wasn't fucking you, you were whining in complaint and going down on him. If he wasn't going down on you, he was edging you with his fingers. Your hands never left each other's bodies, always needing connection. You were sure he was just as familiar with your body as you were by this point. 

The exhaustion finally hit when he had you on your back in a mating press. The last thing you remember, is staring up into the twilight sky. Dawn was approaching, the stars were disappearing before your eyes, as the golden glow of the sun started to peek through. 

Your eyes were fluttering as you fought unconsciousness, determined to finish fucking this completely ethereal creature. Felix was barely putting in an effort to fuck you, but he still slid in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, as if he wanted to keep your orgasm at bay. You both wanted to extend this moment in time, but your body wouldn't have that.

When you finally let go, cumming on his cock for what felt like the hundredth time. That's when your eyes shut and you gave into the exhaustion. 

The familiar scent of nag champa incense filled your nostrils as you started to come to. 

Your bedroom, permanently infused with your favorite scent to burn, that's where you were. The familiar feel of your sheets beneath you, and your heavy comforter confirmed that.  

Your mind still felt a little cloudy as you started to recall how you got to your bed from the forest. 

That's when you feel a body next to you and your eyes shot open.

"Felix?" You croaked, your voice dry and hoarse.

He was laying next to you on his side, in your bed, in your house. 

He had the blankets pulled up to his waist, and was resting his head on his hand. Elbow propped up, so he could see you better. He was shirtless and he wore that same smile on his face, like he was so fond of you.

"Is that still the only thing you can say, little dove?" He whispered teasingly. 

"How- I mean, why-?" You stutter as you attempt to sit up in bed, but your entire body aches. 

You hiss at the burning sensation you felt between your legs. And your legs, gods, you don't think that they've ever felt so sore. 

"Easy darling, you need to rest." He said as he helped you sit up. 

He reached over to his side of the bed and handed you a glass of water, motioning for you to drink. 

You eyed him curiously as you sipped your water, finishing it rather quickly when you realized how thirsty you were. 

"I ran you a bath and kept it hot, when you're ready we should wash you up more." 

"More?" You questioned him.

"I did clean you up last night, I'm not a monster. The bath will help ease your muscles." He chuckled.

"How did you even know where I live?" 

"It's not hard to figure out, we weren't that far from it. Your house is the only one for miles." 

You still felt guarded around him, even after the night you shared. If the stories your mother told you turned out to be partially true, you could only imagine what other lore could turn out to be true. 

Now this mischievous creature knew where you lived, he was in your home.

"I know this is your sacred space little dove, I don't intend to intrude. However, I couldn't exactly leave you in the state you were in. How are you feeling? Is your head a little clearer?" He spoke softly as he brushed his fingers through your hair. 

It is. Almost all of that dazed feeling was gone, you felt more lucid. In that clarity though, a rush of embarrassment hit you. You felt your skin heat up at the more clear memories of last night. 

You were never the type for hookups or one night stands, yet the things you did with this perfect stranger... This perfect magickal stranger... they felt unspeakable. You'd never lost yourself so completely in someone else's presence, much less with your own... sessions. 

You hide your face in your hands and rub at your temples, trying to make sense of this entire situation. Of your own feelings. You didn't exactly regret it or hate it. Something still felt off. Not only was the entire act abnormal in general, and downright questionable. But it was so out of character for you. Did he use... compulsions? Did he have that type of magick?

"Thinking too hard will just exhaust you more." He said.

"Look..." You sigh, as you turn to face him, "I'm a little lost here, I don't know what to make of this all." 

Next thing you know, he's off the bed. He's picking you up in his arms, and you notice you're both still nude. Your face flushes again at that, and you struggle a bit in his arms.

"Be calm darling, I'm just taking you to the tub. We can talk about it all." 

You let him place you in the tub, and then he's sliding in behind you. Slotting you between his legs. He's pulling you back towards him, so you lay against his chest. You both sit like that for a few moments, absorbing the heat from the bath and getting used to each other in a new type of intimate way.

You should be kicking him out of your house. You should be cussing him out. Defending yourself, but why didn't you feel the need to defend yourself against him? Why were you drawn to him? 

When you think about the facts, some would say you were attacked last night. I mean there's a reason the Fae call it a punishment You didn't feel attacked though. You enjoyed yourself, as crazy as that is to say. 

You always knew you were an adventurous soul, but you never thought to this extent. 

How do you come to terms with actually feeling okay with this whole thing, when you knew you shouldn't be?

"You're a witch, right?" He suddenly asks you, breaking your train of thought. 

"I am... though I'm beginning to question the validity of that title, seeing as I have an actual magical creature behind me." You mumble. 

You knew the magick you practiced was real. You could feel it. It's not like you could create fire though, or move things, or transfigure things in front of you. You weren't even sure Felix could do any of that as an elf. You weren't sure of anything anymore. 

You felt like you were entering an existential crisis. Panic was starting to settle within you when you felt his chest vibrate with laughter, it was an oddly soothing sensation that you know you've felt before.

"No, you are. I can sense it, it's in your blood. It took me a while to piece it together, but you are a witch through and through. Sometimes humans don't know of their tie to the magickal world, but I figured... from your altar, among other objects and ingredients I've noticed here, that you knew." 

You hummed, your mother always told you that you were a part of a long line of witches. She raised you heavily within her practice. You never doubted her, but somehow this new revelation made it so much more real. You realize this was opening a whole new aspect in your own practice. A hidden world, seemingly waiting for your return.

"Is that why you came to me? Because you sensed a witch was near?" You questioned him, your hands playing with the water. 

"No, you stepped inside my fairy ring. I have to say I was shocked. I placed it in, what I thought was, an inconspicuous area. I hadn't realized your home was nearby."

"Okay, I'm going to need you to explain." You sighed. 

"Well... you already know what I told you yesterday. The stories you were told, were passed down by your ancestors and other mortals in general. You don't really just dance in fairy rings, that's a small fib we tell the children. As more human children found the rings, when we'd find them dancing. We'd send them off, warning them if they came in again that we would have them dancing until they faint. When our own children wandered into them curiously, we'd tell them the same thing until it became time for them to learn. It's just something stupid the ancestors came up with, I don't know... It does always start out with a courting dance though, but the main reason for them is, inside a fairy ring... you mate. They're essentially a part of an ancient mating ritual."

At that you nearly jumped up to smack him, but he was a step ahead of you. His arms tightened around your body, pinning your arms to your chest. 

"MATING?!" You screamed at him, trying to turn your head and make eye contact, "I don't fucking wan-" 

"Please, calm down little dove. It's not possible for me to actually breed you. That requires an entirely different ritual, one that hasn't been performed in centuries. I'm not even sure anyone would know how to perform it these days..." He trails off. 

"So then why even lay these stupid Fae traps for humans anyways?!" You screech. 

"They're not traps, and they're not meant for humans." He says defensively, and you can hear the pouting in his tone, "Think of it like this. You know how some penguins build big and pretty nests to attract a mate? It's kind of like that. It's a lot to explain in detail, and I had to create one. Now that I'm of age, it's expected of me to find a partner. Even if I don't find the need to." 

"And why do they exist in this realm if they're not meant for us?"

"Well, a long time ago, back when there was only this realm, and there were more Fae than humans, they came across one. That fairy was so angry at the human for intruding on something so intimate of his, and he threatened the human with a punishment. Before any of the other Fae could stop him, he entered the ring. When they both were inside of it, they were overcome with the magic of the ring. The courting dance had started, and no one else was able to enter. The desire for each other grew. In his anger he must've forgotten what the ring's intention was, and was only focused on punishing the human. But he never got that far. They ended up... mating. They never separated from that night, spending their lives together. It was millenia ago. It created an uproar though. Our kinds had never joined before that way."

You sat and listened, calming down a bit as he told you this story.

"There were battles, not an outright war but there might as well have been. They grew to love each other, and they led the winnings of those battles to stay together. They opened the door for Fae and humans to be together, but it has always been frowned upon from both sides."

There was an entire history of this world that you had never known. One that you could never even imagine to be true. But it is. Before your mind let you delve into it though, you thought back to something he said.

"Overcome with magic? These rings hold compulsions over beings?" You questioned hastily, needing to confirm your suspicions. 

"No. It's not like that..." He sighed, "Didn't you feel different last night?" He continues, "The mushrooms release something like a pheromone. An aphrodisiac, to enhance your sexual stamina. Among other mood boosting and energy boosting properties. It starts by uplifting your mood, making you feel the happiest you've ever been. Then you start dancing, your energy building up in preparation for what's to come. It's not until your partner enters that the aphrodisiacs start releasing. But it doesn't just take away your consent like that. Both parties have to be willing... it needs to be mutual. Though that's not to say that's not how every instance turns out. Evil exists in all realms." 

You shivered at his words, trying to process everything. You could clearly remember the primal urges taking over, the need to constantly be filled. It explained that off feeling, why you were acting so out of character. But you couldn't deny that you had wanted it. 

Craved it. 

You never tried to stop it, never wanted to stop it... In fact you initiated it to an extent. 

He started talking again, "That's why I couldn't just leave you there. Especially not in that forest, where other creatures lurk and might find you. I never felt anything dark there, but that doesn't mean it won't come along. I brought you home. I cleaned you up, I made you drink because you were getting dehydrated. I cared for you."

He was loosening his grip around you to rub your shoulders. It made you think back to the skilled massages he gave you last night, in between all of the sex. He made sure to take care of you the whole night it seemed.

"But none of this answers my question from earlier, why not place the rings in your own realm now? Why would any of the Fae place them here?" You asked.

"There are many different reasons..." He mumbled, "Some of them do it because they want to experience sex with a willing human. Some of them do use them as traps for humans, and those Fae are disgraceful, downright evil. Most of those types have been banished from the realm I come from. But some are like me. We try to hide them, from everyone. Because even though we're required to have them, we don't want to use them."

Then you thought back to his previous words, "Wait... 'find your partner' you said? Are we- do we have some sort of bond now?"

The silence was thick in the air. You waited for him to speak, but he didn't, so you turned around in the tub to face him. Your legs spread out on top of his, as you half straddled his lap. 

His eyes stared into yours, expressionless. It was much colder than his usual warm aura, so you grabbed his hand to hold it, and asked again in a softer tone, "Do we?" 

"We don't have to. It's not permanent. Most Fae who get humans within their rings leave them there once they've passed out anyways. Humans don't have the same stamina as we do, even with their boosted energy from the ring. The first woman passed out, that's where the ancestors got their silly tale from." He spoke tightly, like he was debating even revealing this bond at all. 

"I see." You replied, even though you had many more questions and didn't have a full grasp on it all. 

Not much made sense. In a span of hours you found out the true existence of a hidden realm, and these magickal creatures. You met one, you slept with him, then you actually slept with him, and now you bathe with him. You talk with him, as if all of this is a normal day.

It should all unsettle you more than it actually does. You should be freaking out, 100% meltdown level. This is the story of fairy tales, and maybe not a good one. This could be the big bad wolf and you could be little red riding hood. But somehow, you were comfortable in his presence. Comfortable enough to want to spend more time with him. To learn more, about him, his world, and this new bond. 

So you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving his lips a small peck. 

"Maybe we could... figure it out together? See what happens next, if you explain more to me, that is." 

His eyes lit up with hope, and his charming smile returned to his face. The thought that you could wake up every day to that smile entered your head quicker than you could blink.

You'd figure something out. You had to. He couldn't leave your life now. Not when it seemed like it was just getting started thanks to him.

Taglist:

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@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale @irrevocable-exposure

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But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.

[lovelookspretty]

hi can you make a one shot about meankook!reader bullying sofia for being a pogue just because sofia is dating rafe? and rafe confronting meankook!reader but all the reader did was to cry because she's still not over rafe (rafe and the reader had a past 😞💨)

french 75

rafe cameron x meankook!reader

warning: ruthie i fear .

authors note: hi so idk if u wanted them to get together, AND I LOVE SOFIAS CHARACTER but we’re using the “theyre not even really official and sofias so nice that she’ll probably just let this pass if rafe was still in love with his ex” excuse 😭

you've been feeling out of place lately. it's not like you haven't tried to move on, but it’s hard when the people you used to spend every day with are still around, circling like ghosts of a life you’re no longer part of.

you and rafe broke things off six months ago, and since then, everything’s been awkward. you still hang out with sarah, mostly because she doesn’t make things weird. topper and kelce are around too, and sometimes topper’s new girlfriend ruthie tags along. but there’s this unspoken tension whenever you’re all together—like they’re waiting for you to crack, or maybe you’re waiting for it.

the hardest part isn’t the breakup itself. you’re used to that; breakups are part of life. no, the hardest part is seeing rafe with sofia.

you heard about her weeks ago, whispers on the island, but it wasn’t real until you saw them together. inseparable. she’s always there now, tucked into his side like she belongs there, like that used to be you. and no matter how much time passes, seeing your ex with someone else just . . . stings. like you’re stuck, still standing where you were when things ended, while rafe's already miles ahead, moving on with his life.

you haven’t even thought about getting with anyone new lately, and apparently, that’s concerning to ruthie. you’re sitting at the country club bar, arms stretched out across the table and your forehead pressed to the surface.

it’s a slow afternoon, topper and kelce are leaning against the railing a few feet away, deep in conversation. ruthie’s beside you, eyeing you with this weird mix of disgust and amusement, like you're some kind of charity case she’s fascinated by.

“seriously? you haven't hooked up with anyone in the last month?” ruthie asks, her voice dripping with disbelief.

you can feel her staring at you, judging you, and you groan, burying your face in the table as if that might make her stop.

“two months?” she presses, raising an eyebrow.

“four,” you murmur, still not lifting your head. you can practically feel her eyes widen.

“god,” ruthie mutters under her breath, like you’re some tragic, pitiful thing. she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms and making a face like she’s disgusted by the mere thought of it. you finally sit up, tired eyes meeting hers with a sharp look.

“okay, can you just drop it, ruthie?” you snap, though it comes out louder than you wanted it to. you rub your temples, feeling the headache creeping in. “i’m getting a fucking migraine talking to you.”

ruthie blinks, like she’s taken aback, before her eyes narrow and her lips press into a thin line. she throws her hands up, palms facing you in a mock surrender. “whatever,” she mutters, scoffing as she stands. she’s muttering something under her breath before she struts off toward topper and kelce, leaving you alone at the table.

eventually, topper catches your eye from where he’s standing, mid-conversation. he doesn’t say anything, just watches you for a moment before leaving them behind and walking over to where you’re still slumped in your chair.

there’s a quiet, unspoken kindness in the way he looks at you, a soft spot he’s always had for you, even if he doesn’t always say it outright.

“did ruthie piss you off?” he asks, voice low and casual as he leans on the back of your chair.

you make a face. “she’s just annoying,” you mutter, sitting up straighter in your chair. “i don’t get why everyone still cares. it’s been weeks since rafe and sofia started whatever they’re doing, and months since we broke up. i just want people to shut up about it already.”

topper presses his lips together, looking down but still watching you with a sideways glance, that familiar expression that says ‘are you done yet?’ he doesn’t even have to say anything.

you stare at him for a moment, realizing just how much of a buzzkill you’ve been today. not that ruthie doesn’t deserve it—she’s always been the annoying one, poking at you like you’re some project she’s trying to fix. but still . . . maybe you went too far. your eyes flick over to her standing with kelce, hands on her hips, still talking animatedly like nothing happened.

apologize? you think for a second but dismiss it. no, she’ll live.

“you want a drink?” topper asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. “on me.”

you look up at him and just nod, too drained to argue or offer any witty remarks. topper gives a small nod back, tilting his head toward the bar in a way that tells you to ‘come on.’

you push yourself up from the table, rubbing the back of your head. “thanks,” you murmur as you follow him to the bar.

you approach the counter, scanning the drink options in your head even though you know what you want already. “a french 75?” you say almost immediately.

topper’s already placing cash on the counter, giving you a nod before turning and heading back to the others. you watch him walk off, then turn back to face the bartender, but the guy is sliding topper’s money over to himself and calling over his shoulder for someone else to handle your drink, like he’s too busy.

you wait, your eyes drifting across the room, taking in the familiar faces. your friends are just off to the side, still talking, but when you face forward again, you see someone else working on your drink. a girl, back turned to you, quickly mixing things with slightly impressive speed. you tap your fingers against the counter, trying to fill the silence while you wait.

it doesn’t take long. quicker than you expected, the girl is already turning around, glass in hand. “french 75,” she says, placing the drink on the counter—until her eyes meet yours, and her expression freezes. the glass hovers in her hand for a moment as if she’s debating whether to set it down or not. her face pales, and you realize why.

sofia.

your jaw clenches instinctively, and you just stare at her. her presence alone irritates you, but seeing her behind the bar, handing you a drink, like this is normal, like everything is fine? it’s suffocating.

kelce is the first to realize what’s going on. “oh, shit,” you hear him mutter, raising a fist to his mouth in a mix of surprise and awkward amusement. he taps topper on the shoulder to get his attention, and soon enough, topper and ruthie are glancing over, realizing who he’s staring at. they shuffle over to a nearby table, clearly coming closer to stand by you, or maybe just to watch the drama unfold.

you don’t break eye contact with sofia, letting your gaze slowly trail down, taking her in from head to toe with a grimace, like you’re trying to figure out how someone like her even fits into your world, let alone into rafe’s life. sofia purses her lips, setting the glass on the counter with a sharp clink, avoiding your gaze now.

without a word, you grab the glass and turn on your heel, walking over to where your friends have settled at the new table. they’re all looking at you, like they’ve already seen everything that happened and are just waiting for your reaction.

you sit down with a huff, glancing at them with a raised eyebrow. “why are we sitting here?” you ask, your voice low and laced with annoyance. it’s too close—too close to the front counter, too close to her.

ruthie just shrugs, but she’s looking past you at the bar with a little too much interest. you roll your eyes and take a sip of your drink, trying to ignore the knot twisting tighter in your chest.

ruthie leans forward, her arms crossed on the table, a glint of mischief in her eyes as she glances between you and the bar. you can almost see the gears turning in her head. “so, what’s it like,” she asks, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “watching your ex play house with someone so . . . beneath him?”

you sit there, caught off guard for a moment. topper’s eyes widen slightly, and he shoots ruthie a look, clearly knowing she’s trying to stir the pot.

the truth is, you hate how rafe looks with sofia. it’s not like you can admit that out loud, but now, with ruthie pushing you, it feels like the perfect opportunity to let it out. you don’t even know what comes over you.

you take a deep breath, your leg bouncing under the table, a small smile creeping onto your lips as you respond, “i’ll just say, she can play house all she wants. it’s not like she’s getting a permanent role.”

you notice topper staring at you, disbelief etched across his face. you say it so low and calculated, causing ruthie and kelce to snicker.

“he’s just keeping her around because she’s easy, she’s a pogue,” you continue. “no effort, no expectations. it’s not like she has anything to offer except, what, pouring drinks? fuckin’ classy.”

ruthie jumps in, her voice light but laced with sarcasm, “i almost feel bad for her. almost. but she’ll figure it out when he’s done playing.” she leans back, a mocking expression plastered on her face. “imagine being the girl who bartends at her boyfriend’s parties . . . awkward.”

it’s toxic, sure, but right now, it’s all you’ve got. the laughter and banter dull the sting of seeing rafe with sofia, if only for a little while. you lean back in your chair, your smirk lingering as you watch the laughter between your friends, even if a part of you knows it won’t last.

“hey,” you hear someone murmur behind you, and your stomach drops.

just from that, you know that it’s unmistakably rafe’s voice, smooth and casual, but with an edge that sends a shiver down your spine. you whip around in your chair, dread pooling in your gut as you see him standing there, a bag in his hands—most likely sofia’s. he must’ve walked up from downstairs, just in time to catch the tail end of your conversation.

rafe’s gaze is locked onto sofia. the way they look at each other that makes your blood boil. you literally feel like flipping tables right now.

behind you, ruthie’s laughter cuts through the tension, but you can hear topper nudging her to shut up.

you face forward and close your mouth, focusing on tracing the bottom of your glass, pretending to be absorbed in your drink as the conversation flows at the table, about other things.

a few moments pass, and you hear footsteps approaching from behind. curiosity pulls you in, and you tilt your head just enough to catch a glimpse of rafe as he approaches.

his hand barely brushes your shoulder. you instinctively glance over your shoulder, ready to tell him to back off, but the look in his eyes is different. “can i talk to you?” he asks.

anxiety twists in your stomach, but you mask it, meeting his gaze. you give ruthie a quick look—a silent plea for backup or perhaps a warning—but you know she’s not going to say anything. she’s too wrapped up in her own amusement, still chuckling at the earlier jab about sofia.

before you join him, you tilt your head back and quickly down the rest of your drink, earning a snort from kelce. you stand up, heart pounding in your chest as you face rafe. he stands tall. behind him, you catch sofia’s eyes again. she’s watching you, and you can see the faint flicker of concern in her expression. it’s irritating and satisfying all at once.

“let’s go,” rafe says, his voice low, and he turns to walk away, prompting you to follow him. you take a deep breath, stealing one last glance at your friends, who exchange looks before you slip out of their sight.

he leads you downstairs and out of the building. the chatter and laughter from the downstairs restaurant fade behind you. you can feel rafe’s anger practically radiating off him.

he spins around to face you, eyes blazing. “what the hell was that all about?” his voice is low but intense. “is this the new game you’re playing? you think talking shit about sofia is going to make you look good?”

the offense courses through you like a wave, your jaw clenching at his accusation. “you’re kidding, right?” you shoot back. “you’re the one who moved on like it was nothing. do you really expect me to sit here and pretend it’s fine? to just be okay with you and your new girlfriend flaunting it in everyone’s face?”

rafe’s eyes narrow, his frustration deepening. “look, i get that you’re feeling some type of way, but doing that with our friends of all people isn’t going to change anything between us.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “i don’t know what you want me to say. you want me to be happy for you? it’s not that simple,” you retort. “it’s a joke that you think i’m going to sit here and pretend i’m okay with everything while you’re acting like you didn’t just move on in record time.”

his expression hardens, and you can see the muscles in his jaw flex as he fights for control. “you don’t get it, do you?” he says, stepping closer. “this isn’t about you. it’s about sofia and me. if you really cared, you’d respect that.”

“respect?” you scoff. “you want respect after everything? you think just because you’re with her, everything should be okay? you’re so self-absorbed that you can’t even see how messed up this is for me.”

rafe shakes his head, “and you think this is easy for me? watching you act like a child while i’m trying to move on? it’s not just about you anymore, y/n. you’re not the only one who’s hurting.”

his words hit harder than you expect, a punch to the gut that leaves you momentarily speechless. you take a breath, trying to compose yourself. “then why don’t you act like it? you’re so busy playing house with sofia that you don’t even care how it looks from my side. it’s like you don’t give a damn about what we had.”

“what we had is over!” rafe snaps, and you take a small step back. “you need to let it go. it’s not my fault you can’t handle seeing me with someone else. you’re the one making this harder than it needs to be.”

he takes a step back this time, and you can see the hurt lingering just below the surface. his voice cuts through the air, “you have no business being in this. sofia isn’t even my girlfriend, and it’s been six months. you need to let go of whatever this is.”

“so what? just because you say it’s over, i’m supposed to be fine? you moved on so fast, rafe. how can you just act like it’s nothing?”

he rolls his eyes. “you’re the one making this a problem. i saw you with that guy a few months back. so don’t act like you’re sitting here heartbroken. you’re clearly over me!”

the breath catches in your throat, anger twisting into something deeper, more painful. “that was the first and last time i was even with anyone since we broke up, rafe! i didn’t want to be with him! i was just trying to get over you, to stop feeling like this.” your voice shakes as you speak, you’re crumbling in front of him.

“then why are you acting like this?” he demands.

you can’t hold it in any longer. “because i’m not over you!” you scream, the words ripping from your throat with a desperation that leaves you breathless. rafe blinks at you in stunned silence, his expression shifting from anger to something softer, almost vulnerable.

your walls finally come crashing down, and you feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. it’s humiliating to admit it all. “i’ve been a bitch because i’m not . . . over you, rafe. and i don’t think i ever have been.” the admission slips from your lips, and you can see the surprise flicker across his face. “and everyone keeps talking to me, asking about you, and then all the stuff about sofia when people started seeing you guys around the island . . . it’s just exhausting! i’m tired, rafe. i’m so tired.”

a tear spills down your cheek. you wipe it away angrily, frustrated with yourself for showing weakness. rafe steps closer, his expression softening, but the distance between you still feels vast.

“you think i don’t care?” he says quietly, the anger draining from his tone. the silence hangs heavy between you, your breaths coming in shaky intervals as he processes your words. “y/n,” he starts, but you can’t hold back any longer.

“it’s just . . . it’s so hard to watch you move on with someone who feels like a shadow of what we had,” you mumble. “every time i see you with sofia, it’s like a knife twisting in my chest. and i know i shouldn’t feel this way. i know i should be happy for you, and i am, but i don’t know how to move on when you’re still so present in my life, even when you’re not really in it. and it makes me feel pathetic. i thought i was strong enough to handle it, but every time i think i’m over you, it just hits me all over again. like i’m right back at square one, and i don’t know how to let go.”

your voice cracks on that last word, and suddenly the dam breaks. you don’t mean to, but everything comes rushing out. “i’m fucking mad at you. i’m mad at myself. i hate that i still care about you. i hate that i can’t even walk into a room without wondering if you’ll be there, or hear your name without feeling like someone just punched me in the gut.” the tears start streaming down your face, and you wipe at them furiously, embarrassed to be falling apart in front of him like this.

rafe just stands there, watching you with an intensity that makes your chest ache even more. “and sofia,” you continue, voice barely above a whisper now, “god, i hate her. i hate her. but not because of who she is. because she’s with you. because she’s standing where i used to stand, and i don’t know how to deal with that. i don’t know how to stop feeling like i’ve been replaced.”

you let out a shaky breath, trying to pull yourself together, but the tears keep falling. “i don’t know how to let go of you, rafe. i don’t think i ever learned how.”

for a moment, rafe doesn’t say anything, and you’re terrified that you’ve just completely exposed yourself, that you’ve made a fool of yourself

“rafe,” you whisper, feeling exposed, vulnerable. “i’m sorry.”

he steps forward again, and before you can say anything else, he cups your face in his large hands. “what the hell is wrong with you?” you breathe, staring into his eyes before gazing at his lips like they’re a threat. “get off of me.”

he keeps his hands cupping your face, his thumb coming up to brush any wetness away from underneath your eyes, his voice low, “y’know, i’ve missed you, y/n. more than you know.”

you blink up at him in shock, your tears momentarily forgotten.

“i don’t wanna keep pretending. i don’t wanna keep fighting this,” he murmurs, and in a heartbeat, his lips are on yours.

the kiss is slow at first, hesitant, like he’s testing the waters, unsure if this is what you want. but the second your lips meet his, everything else fades away, a rush of emotions flooding in. it’s as if all the anger, sadness, and longing come crashing together, igniting something inside you that you thought had flickered out.

his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, and you feel yourself melting into him, like this is the only thing that’s made sense in a long time.

you kiss him back with equal fervor, pouring everything into it—months of heartache, yearning, and unfulfilled desire. your hands find their way to his collar, gripping it tightly as you lose yourself in the moment.

the world blurs around you, and all you can focus on is him—the way his lips move against yours, the warmth of his hand on your skin, the way your heart is pounding so hard you can barely breathe. it’s the first time you’ve kissed him since the breakup, and it’s everything. too much, too fast, but exactly what you’ve both been craving. he tastes like everything you’ve missed, and the warmth of his body against yours feels like coming home.

when you finally pull back, both of you breathless, your foreheads rest against each other, eyes locked. his thumb moves, brushing lightly against your bottom lip, and your heart skips a beat. “french 75,” he whispers, like he’s tasted something familiar.

he knows. of course, he knows. he always knew your favorite drink. he can taste it on your tongue. you can’t help it—your lips twitch into a small smile, despite the tears still clinging to your lashes.

erm guys was that lowkey fastpaced as fuck.

[crystalflygeo]

Morning coffee? Morning tea... ft Neuvillette + fem!reader

cw/tags: this is just SUPER tender and vanilla sex ngl. Pet names (in french!!! <3) dirty talking if you squint?? itty bit of somno maybe? idk how to tag this y'all just smut with feelings.

notes: HI I DISAPPEARED AND COME BACK TO OFFER YOU NEUVILLETTE. I love him so much, I am down horrendous I love him I love him I love him AAAAAAAAAAAAA. The self control I had to practice not to make him speak full sentences in french lmao.

The room is dark and silent as you shift on the bed, yawning. You blink drowsily and realize you were asleep, only dreaming of Neuvillette’s soft touch, the brush of his hair, his gentle kisses and nuzzling, reserved only for private settings. You roll over and rub at your face, but the bed is empty.

Hm? Where is your husband?

It is very rare for Neuvillette to leave like this, unannounced. He’d always give you a kiss, hushed whispers telling you he has some business to attend to before slipping out of the room. Sometimes he doesn’t want to wake you and leaves a note instead, but now as you look around, albeit half-asleep, there is nothing…

Did something happen? You frown.

His side of the bed is still warm though, his essence lingers in the room, on your skin. He was definitely here not too long ago. The familiar scent of his cologne teases your nose and you decide to burrow into his pillow to chase it, hugging the soft thing wishing it was him.

Today was a day off, there was no need to worry about work or other responsibilities. Though you suppose Fontaine’s Iudex’s responsibilities never end…

You sigh and cling tighter onto the pillow, closing your eyes and desperately trying to recapture the essence of that dreamy state, sliding deeper under the warm comforter and rolling onto your side in the middle of the bed, slipping into memories of the night prior.

Neuvillette’s deep voice, the delightful sparks of electricity as his hands roamed your body and that feeling of being so full, complete and sated as he slid deep inside you from behind.

Oh, how you love him. Always so reverent with his affections.

Somewhere between the reminiscence of a high pitched voice you barely recognize as your own moaning his name, and Neuvillette’s low tantalizing whispers as he urges you to come all over his cock, you barely register the soft click of the door.

The subconscious is a funny thing and part of you wonders how can he be there and in your little fantasy at the same time.

Deep in the middle of your struggle between here and there, there is a soft rustle of fabric, and then the sharp clink of porcelain coming from the bedside table, sounds that pull you back from the drowsiness.

“Hmmm… Neuv?”

The bed dips slightly with his weight, and a soft caress at your hair has you stirring a little. The covers sliding off your skin and Neuvillette’s appreciative groan upon seeing your naked figure spread out before him brings you almost alert.

You feel the warmth of him sliding into bed behind you, his hair tickling at your cheek and his breath at your shoulder as he nuzzles here, planting a soft kiss. Strong arms circling your waist as he pulls your closer, your hips slotting together.

And then you hear him, in that husky smooth voice you’ve come to crave. “Ma chérie.” He beckons, soft and low in your ear. “Ma belle…” Your name velvet on his lips. Large hands shifting your body, maneuvering until you lay on your back. “Mon amour.”

You let out a soft sound of acknowledgement and he chuckles.  

Eyes still closed you tilt your head towards his shoulder, seeking to curl up to his chest and cuddle, but instead you feel his weight shift on the bed again. You whine and a tiny speck inside your head is ready to cry out for him not to leave, but before you can form a coherent sentence you suddenly feel him on top of you, his larger frame caging you, long locks sliding off his back and firm hands taking hold of your thighs, coaxing them to part.

“Let me take care of you, ma chérie.” He’s persuasive with both his touch and his words, spreading your legs gently, one of his hands sliding towards a calf where he squeezes lightly, your body soft and pliant like moist clay under the hands of a sculptor. “You’re so gorgeous… show me…” He kisses a trail down your neck to your collarbone, your chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm as you squirm a little, ticklish and aroused.

“Neuv…” You moan, eyes still closed but senses fully aware of him and everything around you. The room feels hotter, your skin simmering everywhere he touches. Your sides, your hips, your ass… lifting your bottom slightly to slide you into his lap, your legs instinctively curling around his torso and oh- “Oh…”

He shushes you gently, rolling his hips so his cock slides along your folds, teasing and rubbing at your sex, lathering on your slick and growing harder.

“So good for me…”

You whine again, eyes finally fluttering open to stare at his mesmerizing lavender ones as he ruts softly into you. It drives you insane, the want, the wait. And you claw and grip at the bedsheets in anticipation when the engorged cockhead catches on your hole for a moment before sliding again, poking at your little clit instead.

“F-Fuck… Neuv, please…” You groan breathlessly, arms reaching out for him to hold onto the pale skin of his shoulders.

He hums and finally guides himself inside, the first stretch making you keen and toss your head back into the pillow. You see his eyebrows twitch slightly, diamond pupils dilating. Your inner walls squeeze and gush as he pushes deeper and deeper. Goosebumps rising on your skin, sweat running down the back of your neck.

He bottoms out and groans, long and low, leaning into you to rest his forehead on your shoulder, savoring the way you clench before seeking out your lips for a kiss. It’s passionate, heated, but still sweet and you can’t help the smile that breaks when you taste his favorite tea on his mouth, bold, strong and decadent.

As morning light filters in through almost sheer curtains you gaze up at his face, the sharp elegant lines, his long lashes, his beautiful eyes and the slightly disheveled hair, partially falling over his face. You reach out with a hand and comb your fingers trough the white and blue locks, brushing them behind a pointy ear before sliding your hand back and reaching for a horn, petting it gently with pure adoration.

“You’re beautiful.” He says.

You make a sound that’s a cross between a scoff and a laugh, blushing and realizing that as much as you’ve been staring at him, he’s done the same. “Was about to say that myself…” You reply. You see the white pupils flicker, turning to slits and back to diamonds and a shiver runs through your body, acutely aware he’s still inside you. “I love you...”

“I love you too, ma chérie, more than you can imagine.” Your breath catches with his words, spoken so sincere, with such resolute feelings.

You are his, so wholly and utterly, but he knows he belongs to you too. Irrefutably intertwined, awakening long forgotten instincts on the old dragon. Neuvillette’s hands hold your hips again as he starts thrusting into you, filling you and then retreating ever so slowly. You bite your lip and try to push closer, canting your hips to that delicious feeling as warmth pool in your gut.

Your arms are back around his neck, fingers tangling on his hair and bodies pressing together as his pace increases steadily, gasps leave your parted lips. Your muscles already tensing on a tight coil.

Neuvillette hisses as he sinks into you, harder but not faster, aiming his cock right where you want it most, he feels you tighten around him, hot warmth sucking him right in and begging for more. It’s perfection that Neuvillette ruts into, pressing over and over. His instincts on fire telling him to lay his claim.

“I love you.” He says again, unable to stop himself.

You feel pleasure bubbling up, fast, faster than you’d thought, and intense. Your toes curl, legs gripping harder around him and your nails accidentally clawing at his back, surely leaving red marks on that pristine skin. He groans, the sound of skin slapping against skin getting louder, wetter. His thrusts aim deep, heavy and punctuated strokes that hit your sweet spot with accuracy. Labored breaths mixing together.

“Neuv, Neuv… ‘m so close, please pleaseplease-” You whisper desperate, needy.

His thumb finds your clit and you squeal as he draws lazy circles on it, lasting only a few more seconds until you can’t stand it any longer and come undone for him… all over him, gripping him tightly, head thrown back with a loud moan, eyes shutting close.

“Hah… that’s it, hng-si serré…” He mutters and smiles satisfied as he looks at you, flushed and tender, whispering tender words against your neck, love and adoration pressed against your skin before his fangs do as well. Keeping his carefully measured pace as you ride the high of your orgasm and he chases his own pleasure, releasing inside you with that same slow methodical drive and a hoarse primal groan.

You both lie there for a few moments, panting and feeling the aftershocks, soaking up on the feeling of each other. A tangled mess of limbs between sheets and blankets. Neuvillette carefully rests his body on top of yours and you coo happily, combing his hair with your fingers, scratching at his scalp gently as another kind of of drowsiness settles on you, leaving you feeling floaty and light in the afterglow of your lovemaking.   

Your bodies relax and wind down, putty against one another when he raises his head from his resting spot at your chest and kisses you again, short but not less sweet.

“Good morning, ma chérie.” He says, voice low and soothing.

“Morning…” You smile back at him. A little amused.

He slides off of you and you whimper, feeling the stickiness and a slight discomfort from the sudden emptiness. He leans over a little and reaches for something on the bedside table. “I brought you some tea.” He presents you the cup delicately, still warm.

You chuckle and scoot to sit up at the crumpled blankets, graciously picking up the cup and taking a sip. The tea is fragrant and sharp, the same taste on his lips minutes ago… ah, so that was it.

“Thank you, Neuv.” You peek at him from over the cup.

A warm tea and a good fuck… you could definitely get used to mornings like this.   

[auckie]

I think the things that offend me most nowadays in like, smaller interpersonal interactions rather than grand, sweeping trends in culture, are when people chose to not partake in a wide set of things. Like musical close mindedness, or refusal to try different foods from different cultures. Not watching an entire subset of films bc they’re ‘french’. Avoiding reading bc you say you have adhd and it’s too hard. Like dude I get it, I’m busy. I can be picky. Everyone can. But the willful ignorance of closing yourself off to those VAST portions of the human experience, and not having curiosity and a lust to learn and explore art that was made by someone worlds apart from you either in terms of their culture, era, whatever. I dunno man it just pisses me off so bad. I think it’s arrogant. Like oh you’re comfortable in your safe little bubble huh? And you’re enforcing its barriers with the excuse that you’re autistic and have sensory issues. With music made by black people?? lol okay. It is pretty presumptuous for me to assume malicious intent but I think those prejudices are borne from either the comfort of being someone who’s wealthy and probably white not feeling the need to learn past what they think is enough, or it’s a reflection of a society that’s taught you to prioritize what it shills— popular, current (white, depending where you live ig) artists who are making streamlined, easy to digest content. Often when I meet people with these issues they’ll have one particular ‘niche’, and it tends to be like. 70s music. Victorian literature. Anime and Japanese games. But they’re still not really investing beyond the media presented. Like there’s so much more to Japanese culture than liking some cartoons put out between 2010-2020. You don’t gotta become some sorta Einstein who learns the background of every little freak in FGO yeah. But don’t you wanna aim higher? Aren’t you interested in any of the historical figures? And nothings wrong with hopping onto a trend. You read Dracula bc of that Dracula daily thing. Cool! Read more. Some people will say they’re chronically ill or disabled and can’t get outside. That’s okay. The internet is full of things you can read other than fanfiction, YouTube has a shit ton of free music. There’s Wikipedia and free articles online if you have questions about things. Yeah nobody is spending four hours a day looking at the national archives website and studying art history but it’s imbued in the things around you, and youll absorb it ambiently as you go along. you dont have to be a jack of all trades and cover every major genre of every major medium, but it never hurts to try! I really love seeing ppl ask too. Bc it can be kind of humiliating to admit to what seems like some jackass hipster that you’ve never delved into, idk, Serbian films (lol not that one). And hopefully if whoever you’re asking will give you honest good recommendations and not berate you. I’m kind of berate a straw man rn I guess. The hostile tone def doesn’t lend to an atmosphere of sharing but I cannot tell you how many times I’ve rbed anything involving specifically jazz only to see someone rb and add the stupidest comment on the post, or in the tags, or go into my inbox to be like waaah I don’t like jazz bc it’s boring and old and for pretentious hypocrites who hate neurodivergent people! Like what are you TALKING about. Fine if you don’t like it but don’t try and rationalize that as a moral standing you shit lark. And just as they’re allowed to dislike jazz I’m allowed to not really enjoy people who don’t like jazz. Or country. Nautical knots. Knit wear. Watching urbex YouTubers get their shit rocked by squatters. Korean food. Pachuco fashion and stupid ugly low riders. Bollywood films. and they don’t want to try any of those things either yknow? The next thing I’m getting into is circuit bending.

[arrowheadedbitch]

Okay, we were talking about multilingual Shawn in the discord server and I just wanted to share it with all y'all

So, we decided Shawn should be fluent in (I know it's an unrealistic amount, let us live) 13 languages so he can say he knows a baker's dozen languages

Which leads to everyone else going "what the fuck does that mean"

There are some languages the we know he knows in canon and some that are more unclear, and then of course the rest of the languages are just complete fanon

We mostly chose languages we failed to learn lol

So, here's the list we chose.

English, Hebrew, Thai, Hindi, German, Argentinian Spanish, French, ASL, Welsh, Russian, Italian, Polish.

When he tries to speak two languages that are even semi similar, he ends up speaking a weird conglomeration of both by accident

"he tries to hold a conversation and ends up switching languages everytime he doesnt know a word" -J

But these are the languages he can speak, and just the fluent ones at that!

I think he has a completely separate list of languages he can read and it mostly does not coincide with the ones he can speak lmao

"Someone calls him stupid a little *too* rudely and he is not in a great mood today so he starts cussing them out in all the languages he can to prove a point" -me

He absolutely forgets words in English and can only remember it in pretty much any other language

But he uses it to further his "dumb" persona, no moment wasted

When he forgets the word in English, he'll just say whatever word he thinks is probably closest and let's someone else correct him

Then he goes "I've heard it both ways"

" It was the- um *fuck, I can only think of the word in French, but they don't know I know french!* uh, jigsaw!"

"You mean *hacksaw,* Shawn?"

"...I've heard it both ways."

"NO YOU HAVENT"

A foreigner comes up to Shawn asking what the word for something in English is but he *also* forgot the English word for it so he's just sitting there staring at it like *Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh*

He probably learned pineapple individually in every language he could get his hands on 💀

He probably learned curse words first lmao

He can say curse words in languages he doesn't even speak

Like "I can speak 13 languages, but I can say hello in 8 more and I can say fuck in 29"

His greatest accomplishment (in his eyes) is the acquiring of so many swears

"My goal is to be able to call my dad a bitch in every language known to man the day he dies"

#LetShawnSayFuck

Also we had to look it up and he wouldn't be on an FBI watch list for knowing 13 languages, but if the FBI ever found out he would NEVER know peace again (not that he leads that peaceful a life) because they would NEVER stop trying to recruit that man

He would be on a list labeled "PLEASE recrute this man, someone FOR THE LOVE OF GOD hire this guy, PLEASE" so not quite a watchlist but close enough

Now, to tag the people who were part of the convo! @j-snapdragon @thespiritssaidso and majesticrhyhorn but idk if they have a tumblr

[loquarocoeur]

Loquarocoeur info:

Firstly: Obligatory mature content warning

Hi, my name is Alex

Alternatively I am also referred to as loquarocoeur, loq, loquacker, loquawhatever, or other varieties of my username, and when I deserve it I will also accept several insults including but not limited to heartless bitch (re: Casual)

I do have other interests, but this is mostly an F1 blog

You probably know me from my Ao3 (Probably Yours Verse or Casual)

I think I'm mainly known as that insane Lestappen bottom Max/top Charles enthusiast, otherwise also a Landoscar enjoyer who lied about how much angst there would be in Casual (sorry again)

Lestappen complete masterlist here

Landoscar complete masterlist here

I am also a full time student with a busy life, so when the ask box is randomly off, I don't hate you, I'm just busy<3

I don't do much on here except answer asks, which sometimes turn into discussions, mainly yours verse

Other tags are not important, they're mainly for my personal organisation

FAQs under the cut:

FAQs:

What is that keyboard smash of a username?

My username is first and foremost stupid, secondly too old to change, and thirdly a silly mashup of the words loquacious (talkative) and coeur (heart in French)

Are you not answering my ask because I'm being annoying/rude/upsetting?

My ask box has occasionally gotten very busy, sometimes I miss asks, accidentally delete them, sometimes tumblr eats them, sometimes I forget about them until it's too late for it not to be weird, sometimes I'm just very busy or having another discussion and will get back to you. Occasionally I have a lot to yap about with you and need a while to gather my thoughts If you're being rude, hateful, or annoying I will absolutely also delete your asks, but this is very rare, don't worry about it I also might ignore asks about drama, I don't like arguing with anonymous askers about drama in the fandom, I value my peace and happiness and am not making internet enemies, so I prefer to rant about my opinions to my irl friends or my mutuals

Do you make banner posts or announcement posts when you post fics?

No, sorry, I'm lazy. Maybe I will do some arts and crafts if I write another long fic, but my home is ao3, tumblr is just where I yap, I'm not here to make work for myself I think you guys get ao3 emails if you subscribe to my account or a series? idk. Otherwise you'll hear about it in the asks probably

Do you accept requests?

No, but I'm always open to ideas, questions, and inspiration and I'll negotiate art for fic with mutuals if it comes up

[shinestarhwaa]

ALL THE STARS || ROWOON

The spicy scene in Destined With You inspired me to write this piece xo

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Rowoon/Kim Seokwoo x Fem reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Tags/warnings: Strangers to lovers ig?, they're just dating bro idk :), Lawyer!Rowoon, Flight attendant!reader, Dirty language, mentions of sextoys, oral sex (f and m receiving), rowoon has a big ass dick, unprotected sex, sex literally everywhere, porn with a little plot basically, praise kink, sir kink, slightly aged up!rowoon (to like early 30's), reader is in her early 20's, so much cum

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123

ENJOY!

"So you must've visited a lot of countries then," Seokwoo said as he took a sip of his water, ice slightly clinking against the glass. You nodded and told him about your schedules as you worked on finishing the dessert.

It was your third date tonight and you were just telling him about how you started your work as a flight attendant. That is actually how the two of you met; he kept eyeing you up and down on that flight to Zurich.

Seokwoo went on a businesstrip there, he menitioned, and he would send you flirty or cheeky glances and smiles. You were weak at the knees soon enough, something you wouldn't show easily. This man was so charming you could not win from him, he had you at his mercy and he didn't even know it yet.

Before getting off the plane he had given you his card, asking you to call him that night and so you did. You stayed in Zurich for the weekend before hopping back on a plane to Seoul and you had a lovely evening where he took you to see the Ballet and treated you on dinner in a lovely French-styled restaurant.

The man was insightful and considerate. He kept everything respectful and clean but his flirty smile didn't get past you. He brought you back to your hotel and gave you a goodnight-kiss on the cheek. Back in Seoul you met him again for a more casual coffee date and here you were in the most romantic Italian restaurant, panties nearly soaked by how hot this man was.

And it's not even just his looks. Sure, he's sculpted like a Greek deity, you were very aware of that. Gorgeous hair and thick eyebrows, sharp jawline, good nose and plump lips and the most beautiful skin could get him anything he wanted. He was tall and intimidating, yet soft.

It was his actions that really made you down bad for him. He listened. It was nearly embarrassing to say but he listened and asked you questions, had actual nice conversations with you and gave you all the attention and princess treatment.

The way he was careful with you touched your heart in some way. These days all the men were pigs, looking for sex, being selfish and toxic. Yet this man seemed to be different. You tried so hard not to fall too hard and fast for him but he had you all wrapped around his finger. His delicious finger that you just couldn't wait to have in your mouth, to suck on. Or in your wet cunt.

His hands were warm and beautiful, large like the rest of him. It made you wonder what was under this suit of him. If you could just peek that would be enough to keep you going for a while, you thought to yourself.

You'd be fine if he wasn't so fine and so kind. But no, he had to be mr. Damn perfect and you needed to get on him now. All the fantasies of you throwing the table away to the side to jump on him were slowly becoming too much.

You were still talking about your work as you watched Seokwoo listen intently, but your eyes noticed when his gaze kept dropping to your lips, your neck, your jaw, your breasts, scanning you carefully.

If he could just slam his lips against yours and get those hands on your breasts and squeeze them you'd be fine, honestly. But he wasn't doing that. He was still being mr. Perfect. Fuck.

After sharing a piece of the most delicious tiramisu you've ever had in your life he paid the check and guided you to stand up. He stood behind you, helping you to get your jacket on again. His fingers brushed against your bare skin making you gasp slightly. Goosebumps raised on your skin while you felt yourself growing hotter and hotter on the inside.

His fingertips lingered on your skin so you knew he noticed it. He knew the affect that he had on you. "Shall we go, Y/N?" He asked as he handed you your purse. You smiled and nodded. "Let's."

•

•

You were in his car minutes later, driving through the city. You hadn't discussed where you were going so you assumed he was going to drop you off at home again, which meant it'd be another night of you and your toycollection trying to keep yourself statisfied. But you weren't.

It had been quite some time since you've had some actual action and after a while the toys don't quelch that thirst any longer. You needed a real dick, a real man to tame the beast that awoke inside you.

Just as you were imagining another lonely night the man spoke up. "Do you mind coming to my place for a bit?"

Oh. There it was.

It sounded so innocent, coming to his place for a bit. Nothing had to happen, he could just comfortably get to know you. But you knew what he meant because the tension grew and grew, making you rub your thighs together ever so slightly. "No," you spoke, "I would not mind that at all."

He smiled and nodded, driving to his own place, which was apparently an apartment in a huge building. You knew the area was really wealthy so he must be earning a lot if he lived here. Of course he's a lawyer so that's kind of a given.

His apartment was plain but welcoming as you got in. You traded your strappy heels for comfortable slippers as you entered his living room. "Your place is quite nice," you smiled as your hand brushed against his arm. "I could show it to you, if you're interested," he offered.

And so he did, showing you every room in the place, except...

"What's in there?" You asked him, guessing for the bedroom. "That's my bedroom," he stated, confirming your thoughts. He opened the door and guided you in. The luxury was nearly overwhelming. Beautiful lights and materials were used and on top of that he has a gorgeous walk-in closet? Hand in marriage right now.

You walked into the walk-in closet and looked around, in awe of all of his clothes and shoes. "You really must be rich," you mumbled. He grinned and ran his left hand through his hair. "I am lucky," he nodded.

"But... I am even luckier to be going out with this beautiful lady," Seokwoo confessed as he stepped closer to you. His hand grazed slightly against your thigh before it caressed your cheek. He leaned in, his tall figure slowly coming towards you. The smell of his woody perfume penetrated your nostrils, making you sigh out of content.

His lips pressed against your own as he gently pushed you against the wall, accidentally turning off the light as you hit the switch. But he wasn't startled, his lips did not leave yours for a second. No, he was determined. Determined to claim you and make you his tonight.

The kiss was heated and set your body on fire. Your hands slid from his shoulders to his chest, slowly unbuttoning all the buttons of his shirt, revealing his toned chest and chiseled abs. He was perfection himself.

Seokwoo's fingers found the zipper of your dress, gently pulling it down. His hands landed on your ass and grabbed it tight for a second, making you moan into his mouth. You felt his tongue slide in and his hands were sliding down your dress. You were left in your black lacey underwear, a sexy revealing set that you had just bought in case this would've happened, which made you thank your past-self for doing so.

Your hands made it to Seokwoo's belt, undoing it and unbuttoning his pants. He slid off his pants and lifted you onto the large island in his walk-in closet. His hands slid over your legs as they wrapped around him, your hands entangled in his hair as he kissed your neck, softly sucking on your skin.

"Seokwoo," you moaned out. He kissed the valley between your breasts before undoing your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Seokwoo licked his lips and latched his tongue on your nipples, licking and sucking them. Your pussy clenched around nothing as his hands grazed your thighs, giving you goosebumps again.

"You're a fucking angel," he whispered underneath his breath as he kissed and gently kneaded your breasts. "God, please," you cried out as you felt yourself grow wetter by the second. You have never been this horny before, you must've soaked your panties entirely by now.

He slid off your panties and opened your legs, admiring you in all your glory. His cock strained against the material of his underwear, ready to be released. However, he needed to touch you first, he needed to get his mouth on you.

Seokwoo went down on you, hands tightened on your hips as his tongue slid through your folds, collecting your wetness. He moaned at the taste of you as he ate you out, making you throw your head back slightly. His tongue switched between pumping inside you and licking and sucking at your aching clit. You arched your back whenever you felt a little jolt of pleasure shooting down your spine.

You moaned out his name over and over again when he focussed on your clit now. You were worked up enough and you were ready to release any minute now. "Please, yes!" You cried out at a particular hard suck on your clit. It already felt better than the satisfyer you used every night. You clearly found yourself a new toy. Or were you his toy instead?

There was no time to think because suddenly your orgasm washed over you, making you moan loudly as your body shuddered, releasing your arousal on Seokwoo's tongue. You both panted out after he rode out your orgasm.

He took you in his arms and lifted you up again. Your legs wrapped around him with ease as he carried you to his bedroom. He let you down before sliding his boxers down, revealing his large, hard, leaking cock.

"Fuck," you breathed out. You pushed him down onto the bed as you got on your knees for him. He swallowed thickly as you licked it from the base all the way to the tip, collecting the arousal that formed in the slit.

"Please, angel," he hissed. You could see he was ready to burst, couldn't wait any longer, so you took his dick in your mouth. Your head bobbed up and down, tongue flat against the underside of his cock. Spit and arousal formed a mixture dripping down his cock, all the way to his balls.

He moaned out, not shy to be vocal as you nearly deepthroated him, something not many women could do. "You're so fucking good baby, so fucking good," he praised you as his hands found a way through your hair.

You noticed that he was getting close as his cock twitched in your mouth, so you released his dick with a pop. "I want you to fuck me," you stated. He nodded and laid you on the bed, towering over you. Before he could say anything you reached down and aligned his cock with your wet hole. "Put it inside me, sir."

He smirked and slid his hard length into you with ease. Seokwoo pushed it in deep, not having any mercy and not giving you any time to adjust to his size. No, he needed you now, he was gonna give it to you now. "Your pussy feels so good, it's so delicious and wet, baby."

"S-Seokwoo, Seokwoo, ah! Sir!" You moaned out as his cock moved deeply inside you, pace getting harder and faster with every thrust. "Please, oh God, please!"

"What is it angel? What is it that you want?" He grunted out. You cried out again as he slightly adjusted his position and moved faster, repeatedly hitting your g-spot, which he could tell from how loud you were getting.

"Fuck, right there hm? Right there, babygirl?" He groaned as he thrusted again and again, your brain clouded. You could hardly form any words as he fucked you into oblivion, slowly falling apart himself too. Your moans created a sinful melody together that would replay in your mind forever.

"It's so good, c-cock's so good!" You cried out as you felt his large member twitch inside you, signaling he was close to cumming. "Please, please cum inside me, sir, please cum inside me," you begged as your nails dug into the skin on his shoulders. His eyebrows furrowed and his moans got louder as his thrusts got erratic and sloppy, releasing his hot cum deep inside you.

He stopped moving and panted heavily as you caressed his cheek. Before you could say anything he lifted you up and put you on his desk. Like a habit your arms and legs were wrapped around him as he slid his still erect, cum-coated cock into you again.

"Seokwoo!" You cried out. "I'm gonna make you cum on my cock angel, don't worry, I'm gonna make you cum so hard you're gonna see stars," he moaned into your ear as he thrusted deeply inside you. "Yeah?" You breathed out, looking at him and provoking him with your eyes.

"Fuck, yes baby, yeah," he smirked. He pounded into you, desk and everything on it slightly shaking but he could not care less. All he wanted was to make you a shaking mess again.

It didn't take long before you felt your orgasm build up inside you, ready to be released. Seokwoo sensed it and felt you clenching down on his cock. "You're gonna cum on my cock, right baby? Gonna cum on my cock like a good girl? You're such a good girl," he panted, lost in his own pleasure.

You nodded eagerly as your whines grew louder as your orgasm got closer. Soon enough, the wave of pleasure washed over you, making your body shake around him. He fucked you through your orgasm, getting the loudest moans out of you as he showed no signs of slowing down.

''I haven't seen stars yet,'' you panted out, smirking at him. A cocky smirk played on his lips as he pulled out of you. He bend you over the desk, sliding into you from behind again. He fucked you hard and deep and your legs were so weak for him you nearly fell to the ground. ''Please! AH!'' you cried out.

''You like that hm? You just love my cock deep inside you, honey, right?'' ''Yes, Yes I love your cock, I love your cock!'' you whined loudly. ''Sir, please, please,'' you begged him but he just smirked. ''You wanna see fucking stars, right?'' His body covered yours as he fucked you hard and deep, fingertips finding your clit and playing with it, giving you another mindblowing orgasm.

Seokwoo's hands were everywhere and it was slowly becoming too much. This time he truly showed you all the stars. You were a moaning mess, unable to form a sentence. After a few more thrusts he moaned loudly and released himself inside you again, filling your wet pussy up to the brim.

He slowly stopped and spun you around and you fell into his arms, panting intensely. He got the both of you back on the bed and laid you down on his chest where you could come down from your high. ''I got you, angel,'' he smiled, ''you did so well for me.''

You nodded, caressing his skin gently. The tension in the room was gone and now you were cast by his lovespell. His arms felt safe and sound and you slowly dozed off, completely worn out by him. He chuckled as he kept holding you. ''You cannot fall asleep angel, you have to be cleaned up... And you need to go to the toilet.''

Seokwoo kissed your head and helped you back on your feet and guided you to the bathroom. He then went back to the bedroom to wait for you. When you came back you were shy and tucked your hair behind your ear. He opened his arms, welcoming you to lay back on his chest. ''You're beautiful,'' he whispered in your ear. You giggled and nuzzled your face into his chest, dozing off again, sleeping in his arms.

[assmaster-8000]

OKAY NOW THAT IM FINALLY FREE PREPARE FOR MY ASKS TO STEADILY FLOW IN BECAUSE YOU GET ME™️ was having thoughts about waking up to cécile thanks to your artwork (other things were going on that didn’t involve sleeping anndkss) but idk something about the softness of that vs him is just…it does something to me okay

also having thoughts about him fighting the urge to look at you in a certain way while you interact with gael

also having thoughts about taking advantage of him being off duty

and your tags on my fic meant sooo much to me, thank you again I’m so happy you liked it, talking to you about him made me think how important picking up on his body language would be for your mental sanity, and you’d have to be damn good at it too

no literally!!!! waking to cécile KILLS ME BECAUSE OF THAT ONE ASKKKK 😭😭😭👊👊👊👊

nsfw mention in the last paragraph

WHAT DO YOU MEAN CÉCILE DOESN'T SLEEP THE WHOLE NIGHT BECAUSE HE'S TOO ENAMOURED BY THE VULNERABILITY YOU'VE SHOWN HIM BY FALLING ASLEEP IN HIS BED AND THE VULNERABILITY YOU'VE PRIED OUT OF HIM FOR EVEN LETTING YOU BETWEEN THE SHEETS?????? OR MAYBE HE'S SCARED AS IN SO VERY SCARED OF THE WAY YOU'VE DESTROYED HIM BEYOND REPAIR BECAUSE NOW THAT HE'S HAD YOU HE'S GONNA KEEP WANTING YOU TILL HE HAS ALL OF YOU AND THAT THOUGHT IS MORTIFYING TO THE CLOSED, HOLLOW HEART OF HIS??? OR MAYBE HE HASN'T SLEPT NEXT TO SOMEONE IN SO LONG THAT THE FEELING OF YOUR BODY IS TRULY FOREIGN TO HIM AND HE CAN'T HELP BUT LEARN ALL OF YOU EVEN WHEN, OR ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE ASLEEP????????????? WHAT THA FARRKKKKK i think the first night with cécile is gonna be 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 because he's denied you for so long that he just... snaps. he snaps and he'll have you no natter what. but after the sex, after the passion? he's angry, shocked— scared. what have you done to him? and he has to get up early in the morning because he can't stand the thought of you seeing him like this past the lust BUT HE STAYS ANYWAYS UNTIL YOU WAKE UP. IM SICK. IM FUCKING SICK. RAVENSTAR DEVS ARE YOU HAPPY TO SEE ME CRY?? CÉCILE IS ALL DRESSED AND CLEANED UNTIL YOU WAKE UP AND KNOWING ACTS OF SERVICE IS SEWN INTO HIM, HE MIGHT HELP YOU FRESHEN UP BEFORE HE GOES OFF TO WORK. HE'LL SAY IT'S BECAUSE HE DOESN'T WANT ANYONE TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN YOU TWO WITH YOUR ' GRAVE INABILITY FOR DECORUM' AND MAYBE SO BUT CÉCILE, FOR ALL HIS CUTTING FORTHRIGHTNESS, HAS THINGS HE CAN NEVER ADMIT. SO HE'LL ALLOW HIS GAZE TO LINGER ON YOU BEFORE HE GOES BACK TO FIGHTING OFF AN UNBIDDEN DESIRE (DESIRE? LUST? NEED? HE DAREN'T THINK OF THE OTHER DIRTIER WORD BEGINNING WITH 'L')

ahem. pardon my french i got a little carried away! also a certain way goes so many ways here LOL i think for the most part he'd just be looking at you like you're a roach buzzing around gael. his master is a respectable and noble man and you're... you 🤨🤨🤨 unfortunately he can't let his face do all the talking because believe it or not, gael doesn't want his bodyguard to stare murderously at his guest.

the other way is the one that screams with conflict. again i really have to know what cécile thinks of his love for mc in relation to his love for gael because i have no doubt that even when you reach the end goal and become cécile's world, gael is still gonna mean so so much to him. at that point, would he sacrifice everything else for you? yes. but he knows the world includes gael too and it's a part of him nothing, and i mean nothing can heal. what im trying to say is; does cécile feel even more pained, looking at you when you're standing right next to his master only in name, now? can he stand to look honestly at gael when the bane of existence and the recipient of all his need makes things so fucking difficult? he has never been on gael's level, and for good reason.

he has no right to ask for gael's forgiveness nor understanding - even though gael would forgive him in every life time like jesus willingly kissed judas - but he can't help but... need to know. just this once, the loyal hound strays and he's sorry. he's so, so sorry. please know (yes, i know) that he did not go willingly (of course you did, and it's okay), that he will always love gael (i have no doubts about that, but it's about time you have a love to call your own, now - a master and a pet only for you).

and he can't help it, the smaller feeling crawling underneath his skin. that the exact same master he loves so dearly could treat you better than cécile could by miles— gael could sweep you off your feet, and cécile wouldn't even be angry.

also sorry but 'taking advantage of him' while he's off duty snapped me out of my angsty mindset and immediately got me huffing like a dog. heartbreak time over, we're pulling cécile into a bathroom stall to suck that dick till it's blue and black before sending him off again 🤷

[tapedsleeves]

(primer anon) Thank you so much!! <3 <3 I write at a snail's pace so no clue when I'll actually output anything but I loved reading your post 😭 if it's not too much trouble I'd love to hear a little more on keegs and adin since they're on your ships list and I don't know much about them (also maybe nic roy since I just found out he's quebecois?? For some reason I thought marchy was the only frenchy)

Or if you can point me in a direction I can go do my own digging and give your inbox a break 😭 I'd love to know if there's any go-to articles/video series/beat reporter or something, or a good blog/tag to dig through. the official social accounts post so much it's hard to find anything when idk what to search for

I always forget that Nic Roy is quebecois until he talks! There's actually another French guy, who probably will sign somewhere else this summer, William Carrier. Nic Roy is very very quiet. But he's got a cat and put that cat in the cup. Nic is is very chill and low key. Lots of guys on VGK are. Not a lot of them are like. Super flashy guys.

Will Carrier, also french, is SO SO SO square. He helped build his own house and while they were in the montreal series in 20-21, someone peed on his front door. He watched it on the security camera.

He often helps people fix things - he's very handy. But otherwise, he's very chill and low key.

Keegan Kolesar:

Danced with Mat Barzal at Ethan Bear's wedding. butt slaps and handshakes with Jack eichel. keegan is just. A really laid back, funny, sweet guy. His biological is absent, and his step (orr adopted) dad died of COVID complications in september of 2020, so he takes his mom on the dad's trips. It's VERY sweet that he does, and everyone makes her feel really really welcome. Annabelle is our Make A Wish signing and they had quite the fight :)) Here's his POV about it. Actually if there's kids, he's going. He goes to all the charity hockey / ball tournaments and ball hockey events that VGK does in the community. Every one has Keegan in there. did post game press with a chicken ceasar wrap (misattributed to a burrito)

why i ship him wiht Jack: after Keegan's goal against the Jets on 4/22/23, Jack did this, which looked like engagement photos to me

also very important to me: him holding the drunkest karly on stage at the parade. he was SO grabby. it was LOVELY.

I think they kissed on the mouth

Here he is kissing teddy blueger

Keegan kissing Nic Hague.

I'm pretty sure he's an affectionate drunk.

Adin Hill

Adin Hill is just very sweet and loves coffee. He makes his own.

Here he is laughing at Karly saying that his hamstring was "not chillin"

he was very drunk at the parade and referenced talladega nights

they did marchy SO dirty. They sent hilly & nic hague. the two tallest guys.

wore a UNLV basketball jersey to the parade, inspiring love from vegas

also took it off

gets fighty here's another shot

absolutely beautiful ok?

His kicky feets

HE'S SO FUNNY

why i ship him with paul cotter

it has less to do with adin and more to do with Paul himself. He's a goalie appreciator.

adin and tommy are REALLY CUTE tho

despite having the same listed height, adin is taller

their hugs are soo so so so tender. I love goalie.

As far as beat reporters: Gary Lawless is our insider guy, Jesse Granger is our beat reporter for the athletic, and Ashali Vise is one of our on-air broadcasters. All of them are pretty good sources of info. All of them I've referenced for stuff. But really I know most of this just because I like. Have been around. I pay attention. You'll note that some of this is sourced from my own blog, so like. Go nuts there too if you want. If you want older stuff, @himbeaux-on-ice has a bunch of good stuff. @vgkmarc also has some really good stuff, along with @golden-knights-of-the-realm , @at-empty-tables & @sevennone . @reneserseya is really good for Jack Eichel content with some Alec Martinez thrown in for fun & @goldenmisfits is as well. @lovethygoalie knows a lot about Nic Roy iirc.

Also I will say, Dave Goucher & Shane Hnidy are a fun follow, even if they're not exactly reporters - they're super involved and also very cute.

[deathonthe]

ferrari parked outside | 1633

pairing: charles/max

rating: explicit

word count: ~5000

tags: established relationship, slightly non-linear narrative, under-negotiated kink, somnophilia, riding

summary:

Max is an embarrassing amount of gin and tonics into the night when Lando shouts very loudly into his ear. “Does Charles pay for everything for you?” “What?” Max shouts back. “I mean like– Seems like he’s always paying for you, mate,” Lando says. Holds both hands up in the air and dubiously glances to the side. “Not that I’m judging or anything.” “He doesn’t pay for everything,” Max lamely insists.

director's cut:

the following are my notes and thoughts during the writing of this fic. they should in no way influence the way you've interpreted it! but feel free to read it to gain some extra insight into my pea-sized brain

ok. one thing u should know about me is that i will constantly push the max verstappen babygirl agenda no matter what. sugar baby max is pretty adjacent to that

i spent an awful about of time deciding the opening scene, between first scene (B) and the following directly after (A), idk how many times i swapped the two. i was afraid if i started off with B, it would kinda give a tacky record scratch effect when u reach A. but starting with A made the progression into B seem unnatural and too abrupt so. in the end i went with B, then A because the fic gradually loses its seriousness and matches the kinda light humour it progresses into

the line "I want chocolates and those bread rolls they bake fresh." took me a god awful amount of time to write. at first i wanted max to specify a monte carlo cafe to make it seem more genuine but all the reviews for cafes in monaco were in french! which i suppose i should've expected. in the end i went with that even though i'm not completely happy with it

another thing u should know about it is that i care about character voice and characterisation above all else. i try my best to emulate how these people sound. i always sift through so much interview material while writing a fic to try and get the drivers' voice tones and linguistic quirks and body language as accurately and naturally as possible. and too be honest, i don't think i did that very well in this fic. i think i could have imitated it better

a little bit of french, of course. they live in monaco, charles speaks french. max doesn't speak enough, so not quite as much french as other fics (for example, for esteban and lance, i would generally write about half of their dialogue in french if they were only speaking to each other in a scene. it feels more authentic as esteban and lance communicate in french when they are talking to each other in real life)

i designated charles three terms of endearment: baby, cheri and mon cher

nothing made me happier than when it became canon that max calls charles 'charlie' in real life, because i was gonna scrap it from the fic because i thought it sounded ooc

to be clear, i never intended to give charles a daddy kink in this fic. you can assume he doesn't have one. neither does max

the running joke is that this is actually a proposal fic and not a sugar baby one

in the lando scene, when max cuts him off before he can finish his sentence, lando is about to say: "and charles also paid for martjin to dj at this red bull party for u." i wasn't sure if the implication was very strong, though

in actuality, max cuts off lando with a "fuck off" and lando says later "why the fuck would i be, charles isn't my fucking boyfriend" but i thought that was too many fucks and ended up taking all but one of them out

i know charles doesn't drive a red laferrari

the other running joke in this fic is obviously charles is not ever watching the whale documentary seriously. he was instead always thinking or focused on something else in his head

the ice cream scene came to me in a fever dream

charles can't actually procure the cheesecake factory, he's about $125 million in net worth. the cheesecake factory is over $1 billion

i am not a fan (i.e., i am actually just a hater) of when max is depicted like an aggressive, overly possessive, hyper-masculine suave, dom caricature from an e l james erotica novel and when charles is just delegated the softer, more feminine counterpart automatically. so. u see me subverting that expectation a lot

i had a lot of fun writing victoria's part where she cooks both charles and max within 100 words

did you know this fic is exactly 14 pages on google docs? i thought that was pretty cool

if i had to sum up this fic in three words: chekov's schrodinger's proposal

thanks for staying 'til the end!

[dandelionflowery]

Intro post!

(breast cancer awareness post here/the legends of tumblr here, variations here and here , alt link for number 7/arch nemesis Cynthia here) [the two topics are wholly unrelated]

HII!!

My name on the internet is Dandelion, but you can call me whatever you like honestly. It's so hard to find a good name around here, the fae keep stealing them

I use any pronouns, online people default to they/them, IRL people default to she/her, you can use whatever you feel like!

I'm aroace 🧡💛🤍🩵💙 and my gender is up to interpretation lol

I'm 17 and I live in France but I have both French and American citizenship (so i do speak both french and english)

I'M A YEAR AWAY FROM BEING AN ADULT HELP

I have both scoliosis (diagnosed, 45°) and probably dyslexia (not officially diagnosed but all the internet tests I did were screaming at me to go get an official diagnosis- as has life lol) and those two really hate each other who deCIDED SCOLISOIS SHOULD BE SPELLED THE WAY IT IS (if i spell it correctly be aware that either I copied it from somewhere, or i thought about it for WAY too long, or it was a monkeys on keyboards thing)

I also probably have some form of undiagnosed neurodivergence, i think autism and some hints of adhd :)

I created a blog just for reblogging shit (aptly named @dandelionflowery-reblogs) but i suck at tagging stuff on most of my accounts 😭

I'm not often super active on here, at least not regularly, mostly because I have way too many classes but sometimes I go absolutely insane and spend like an entire day on here (oops)

actually i'm most active on here I think now lol

~~☆~~

I like:

- Harry Potter (Drarry, Deamus, Romione, Linny are my main ships but there's a decent chance you could get me to like a specific portrayal of just about any pairing lol) [also fuck jkr]

- The Marauders (WOLFSTARRR! Also Jily and aroace Peter and maybe Remadora. Same thing as before: open to other pairings [I know of and appreciate the ships with the girls but usually I'll lean towards the first ones mentioned actually I'll lean towards wolfstar with background Jily and aa battery Peter)

- Reading and books in general

- Fanfics, fanart!! (Both writing/drawing them and reading/simping for them)

Speaking of which, I have a side blog that's actually technically marauders themed! @mybrain-fanficedition

- Interactions on here!!

- there's probably some other stuff I like but I can't think of anything rn

~~☆~~

I don't like:

- Following from above, I said I was open to pretty much any pairing, ... I lied lol

Idk what jegulus did to me but i just don't like it for some reason (jegulily? lovely. jily? fantastic. jegulus? less.)

- Also the usual list of if you're pro-genocide, homophobic transphobic uh racist, pedophile or just a generally mean person

~~☆~~

I like talking to people even if you don't know what to say just say hi!

Also I have other social media, come find me if you want!

@/flowerydandelion, @/dandelionfloweryart and @/wands.swords.and.books on Instagram!

On Ao3 I'm like 90% sure it's DandelionFlowery and uh probably similar usernames on Discord and Reddit [though I'm not often active on there]

Wait if I link my ao3 that means i need to actually post my fics lol

Leave comments if you read my fics, I love feedback!! (or just leave kudos, it makes me irrationally happy lol)

~~*~~

tags about my current wips featuring really bad summaries:

#third time's the charm- Lily

(not going to be the actual title i think but first i have to write it, we'll worry about titles later)

Lily decides canon sucks and she's going to do something about it

woah i wasn't lying when i said really bad summaries

> Canon happens once, and Lily watches over her son from the afterlife. When canon gets to the scene in DH where Harry gets to see his parents again, something happens and Lily finds herself back in the past, reliving her life from Harry's birth on. She plans, dies and learns. The third time, she's ready.

#our broken hearts- an ode to wolfstar (this one is subject to change bc that title is way too sappy for me)

Sirius dated Peter. And Marlene. And Lily. And James. And then Remus?

>Originally this started in the tags of some post and i mentioned Sirius x Peter, and it blew out of proportion.

>Sirius spends many years finding out who he likes, and ends up with Remus after a lot of experimenting.

~~*~~

totally normal link trust me :)

if you still trust me (and why shouldn't you?), here's the ULTIMATE PRIDE FLAG lol)

let's see how trustworthy you think i am

wanna see some stuff i wrote? (warning, a friend said it took them half an hour to read just the main bit lmao)

an apology 1 | 2

useful tumblr post about hobbies

SNAIL CROSSING SNAIL CROSSING SNAIL CROSSING

~~*~~

side blogs: @x-lovegood @xenophilius-quibbler (Xenophilius Lovegood rp) @sybilances (Sybill Trelawney rp) @bleidd-ddyn (Remus Lupin rp)

@antheia-anthousai (nymph oc)

@mybrain-fanficedition (as mentioned above)

@am-i-a-crab (crab army!!)

+ another two gimmick blog but i'm not saying which ones >:) [maybe i should, they're both still active lmao]

small + pink means dead accounts lol

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

hi! this is the same anon who asked about the writing thing but--since they all had switched classes, is how you tagged/call them what they refer to each other as? (so like everyone refers to them as mediscout, engimed, demo-spy, etc.) or do they just refer to them as their new classes (so referring to the mediscout purely as Medic?) obviously they call solly spyder (which i think is so cute and very fun :>) but im curious about the others! so i guess this goes into the territory of: are there any nicknames they all call each other--or at least ones you think stand out?

Hello hello! First of all, thank you so much for asking so many questions and allowing me to talk about my AU to you all, I really appreciate that you guys are enjoying this as much as I am! <3

Second of all, I'm so sorry this took so long to answer!! I have seen your other ask concerning the writing for my AU, and I have to tell you beforehand that it's okay if you lost motivation or inspiration to write this during the long wait. I totally understand if you don’t feel like doing this anymore. Please don't force yourself to write for something you lost interest in. But I’ll gladly still infodump you about the AU!

Names:

Sure, if you wanted to you could just call them their job names. It would make it easier for the readers to recognize each character, but I do have some actual names I came up with if you prefer something more natural sounding!

All the job switched mercs chose their own names, but I deliberately made the names they chose sound as close as possible to the OG Red mercs'. Because the irony here is that they are clones who try so desperately to be unique and different from the OG team, but still managed to somehow copy them despite all their efforts not to.

But I'm really shit at naming things so the effect was kinda lost :')

Sniper as Soldier- Monday or Mondy

Reason: When asked about his name choice, he paused for a moment and asked back, "what day is it today?"

"Monday."

"Monday it is, then."

Soldier as Spy- June or Spyder

Scout as Medic- Germs (short for germinoma) (yeah idk what happened with this one but I didn't wanna call him Jerry either)

Reason: June chose the wrong day to ask Germs about name choices. When asked, the battle worn, tired, salty field-medic grabbed a random medical book from his bookshelf; opened the book; flipped to a random page; viciously stabbed his finger on a random spot on the page and read the word under his finger: "germinoma"- all the while maintaining direct eye contact. It was supposed to be sarcastic. June took it literally, so it became his permanent nickname (much to his dismay)

Medic as Engineer- Ludovic (sometimes they call him Ludo, for short)

Spy as Demoman- Louise, Lois, Lassie, Louisiana, Lyse (any name similar sounding enough to Lois works)

Reason: His "boom sticks" are modified versions of an actual French cigarette brand called "Gauloises". Since none of the mercs actually knows how to read French, they severely butchered the pronunciation and ended up just dropping the beginning of the word entirely, sticking with "loises". However, everyone had varying interpretations of how to pronounce THAT too. So his exact name remains a mystery, and he won't clarify either (he finds it fun to see them try and guess).

Demoman as Sniper- Trevis

Heavy as Pyro- Mikel

Engineer as Heavy- Belle

Pyro as Scout- Zippo

Reason: ya know... zippo lighters... and he's a scout now, so he ZIPS past you... get it?

These are all very bad names, I know, but hopefully you can tolerate my utterly abysmal naming skills :')

Nicknames:

- Monday sometimes calls Lois "Goldilocks" as his own godawful pronounciation of "Gauloises". It annoys Lois to no ends and Mondy loves it.

- He also sometimes calls Germs "bun-bun" to piss him off about his buck teeth. He feels too bad to joke about Belle's tho.

- Monday uses the most nicknames with others, 90% of which is to mock or annoy but it's all in good fun (usually)

- THEY'RE ALWAYS THE SILLIEST NICKNAMES TOO, WITH EVEN SILLER STORIES BEHIND THEM. Just think of the dumbest, goofiest, sounding names

- He once honest to God called Mikel "Jason" and did NOT elaborate

- Germs rivals Monday with his own silly nicknames for everyone, but his tend to be a bit more... vulgar

- "HEY FUCKNUGGETS"

- "fly high, chucklefest junior!"

- "calm down Colonel shrinky-dink"

Okay, that's it for now. love you, bye bye, I'll see u again in another ask!

[sky-kenobye]

⛵️ Five Fandoms, Five Ships ⛵

Get to know the blogger, via five different ships from five different fandoms!

Thanks for the tag @underacalicosky !!

Putting it under the cut because this is LONG, sorry.

I love them your honor. Doesn't even have to be romantic, I just want to see them being obsessed about each other. I'm also a pretty big obianidala fan, hence why I added her too. (I'm a multishipper really. I have my otp but there's a lot of ships that I enjoy)

1. Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker(/Padmé Amidala) (Star Wars)

When I first watched star wars (not that long ago, I only watched it because I wanted to see the sequels in theater lmao) I wasn't a big fan of the prequels so I mostly ignored them, but then a couple years ago I randomly rewatched them in the middle of the night and suddenly I was obsessed. I'm not even sure how I ended up on AO3 (did I go look for obikin? Did I stumble on it? Idk) but eventually I started reading Pining in Preschool, then realised that @palfriendpatine66 was on tumblr, I started interacting with more people around here, and now I'm (slowly) writing fics, and I'm having the time of my life here, so thanks Pal!

I don't think any if my past fandom brainrots reached my current level so I'm pretty sure I'm here for the long haul (at least it's not stopping anytime soon).

It's not super obvious here but I'm actually a huge Marvel fan (well, the MCU, I've never read a comic), and especially Captain America. Stucky is just, 🤌 so tasty (a lot of similarities with obikin actually imo). I'd like to talk to whoever thought "I'm with you 'til the end of the line" was a straight sentence to repeatedly say to your bro throughout an entire century though. Like?? I'm all for relationships that defy the boundaries of platonic and romantic, but still, that's kinda gay.

2. Steve Rogers/James "Bucky" Barnes(/Peggy Carter) (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

The first MCU movie I saw was actually captain america 2 (and not the first one lol) in theater, and I was instantly hooked, though since Endgame I've been less into it, since my fav is gone (and I have to agree with tumblr on that one: they're making too many movies and shows, I can't keep up 😩)

(And I'm still super salty about what they did to steve in canon, they should have killed him off instead of whatever the fuck that was, honestly)

I also added Peggy because she's great, and polyamory is so much better than love triangles or shipping wars. (I'm not polyamorous but I believe in their beliefs. I think it's because of the aromanticism)

Same as with obikin (and stucky too tbh) I don't really care how they love each other, I just care that they do. They're the most important person to each other, be it romantic, platonic, familial, idc.

3. John Watson/Sherlock Holmes (mostly BBC Sherlock, but from the RDJ movies and the books too)

I've obsessed over (non-existent) clues during the last season, and deluded myself into thinking they'd become canon, alas, it didn't happen.

I've translated a couple of fics in french for that ship, but I've never written for it (I thought about it tho), and I've read a lot. That's the fandom where I've read some of the best queerplatonic fics, and that's my favorite interpretation of the ship, especially sherlock being some flavor of aroace.

4. Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)

I love them as a queerplatonic relationship, and I genuinely think that's what they are in canon, the haters can suck it, that's not queerbaiting even if they dont become a canon couple.

Okay, I'm starting to see a patern here. Am I really that predictable? You can just copy-past what I said above.

(I'm fully on board with them being a couple though)

Hey, a straight ship! With a woman not added as a second thought!

5. Elizabeth Bennet/Mr Darcy (Pride and Prejudice)

Not quite the same vibe as the others, but I've read sooo many fics and books (straight up published fics lol), I've watched a bunch of different adaptations (even the one with zombies)... The worst part is that I think I've only read the og book once, oops.

I actually inherited that fandom from the women in my family lmao. My mom, sister and sister-in-law are all obsessed with it, so I read it to see what all the fuss was about and, yeah, I get it.

And that's it! There are other fandoms I'm into, and other ships in those fandoms, but that's pretty much it (the main one that's missing is Dinluke, the others are mostly smaller ones).

I'm not super actively in those fandoms (apart from Star Wars obviously) but i come back to them now and then. Usually I re-watch it then binge-read a bunch of fics (while my main fandom stays in the main spot in my brain) then I let it go again until it comes back (while obikin still stays in the main spot).

Also Harry Potter used to be my main obsession but JKR kinda ruined that for me so I'm not really into it anymore (hence why I didn't list it even though I have written fics for it).

Anyway that was way too long, if you've read all of this then props to you!

I'm tagging: @cottonraincoat @fem-anakin-skywalker @kingdomvel @ineffable-snowman @arobiwan (and whoever else wants to do it because I'm nosy and I want to know stuff about people)

[that-was-a-bit-stupid-of-you]

meeins cuz idk it's fun

basics

i'm ava

indian

bisexual

I have nothing interesting to say about myself

OH WAIT uh yeah I have adhd

I have no personality at all, but always open to conversation! (narrator: they don't know that she can't hold a conversation to save her life)

OH THAT REMINDS ME, my pronouns are she/her

most of the time, I don't tag any reblogs

that's... it. I like to draw and write. idk. I play guitar but I'm still learning

okay that's it I have nothing more to add

miscellaneous

books:

I first came here cuz of harry potter, but have long gone left that fandom (I'm fine with having convos about it, but that's it. fuck jkr, and hope she falls in a bathtub and- wait focus). anyways, so that's why you will find many old posts on hp, so yeah. disclaimer.

in the pjo fandom, but I haven't read all the books yet

completely against booktok and their rampant consumerism, romanticization of abuse and also. worst writing in history. I will judge you if you like colleen hoover.

fav books: animal farm by george orwell, not my problem by ciara smyth

currently reading: the woman's room by marilyn french and to kill a mockingbird by harper lee

books I wanna read: franz kafka diaries, the woman in the library, war and peace by leo tolstoy and many more

shows/movies:

I have watched the entirety of friends, however you will not see much of it on my blog

brooklyn nine-nine, and i will never stop talking about it. it is the best show ever, and ik it has its problems, but goddamn. in love.

derry girls because it is the funniest show in the whole world

one day at a time because if you don't see it. don't even speak to me, like.

the good place because I'm in the bad place right now

bridgerton. and no I haven't seen the third season

gilmore girls cuz it gives me the will to live

I don't remember omfg lemme check my blog

OH YEAH I ALSO WATCH MIRACULOUS (and lots of other stuff too I just don't remember)

if you see me post about chhota bheem (indian kid's cartoon) or doraemon (japanese cartoon). d-don't question it, okay?

music:

ex-swiftie. not a dedicated hater, but i dislike her a lot, so if you're a swiftie, you would probably hate me

current artists i like: niall horan, zayn malik, louis tomlinson, harry styles (can you guess which band I like lmao), hozier, beth mcarthy, chappell roan, sabrina carpenter and olivia rodrigo.

and a 🌟 if you guessed it, one direction

political views

this blog stands with palestine, and if you don't, boy do I have a list of curses for you

anti-billionaires and capitalists (can you guess why I'm an ex-swiftie hehe)

pro-choice

intersectional feminist

anti hindutva and bjp

atheist