#like imagine your own father saying something so nasty to you

[evansbby]

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[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

House Calls.

Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his college buddies bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student. ANGST.

Part three

1999:

Walking into a hair salon was an interesting experience. Pulling into an overly stuffed parking lot in futile anticipation of being in and out “in a decent time.” opening the salon door and walking into a room overflowing with peering eyes full of a mixture of both curiosity and judgment that covers you from your head to the bottom of your favorite shoes. Slinking down into chairs that go from stuffed and comfortable to hard as steel while waiting for the appointment that was due more than an hour ago. Out bursts of group laughter, “girllll, no she didn’t!” and “say what now?!” coupled with the familiar smell of hair sheen spray and neutralizing shampoo that seeps through the fog of sporadic steam that fills the air from the super-wattage, neck-burning hair dyers, steamers and marcel ‘top of your ear frying’ irons, reminds you that this is going to be long day.

Aaliyah Noelle Davenport sat in an unoccupied salon chair within a popular salon in Baton Rouge called Gina’s. Gina’s had been around for over ten years. The pages of her coloring book she was currently scribbling in with old crayons kept her busy so she wouldn’t go snooping around like last time. She burned her fingers touching a curling iron heater.

“He’s back home…coming to pick Aaliyah up in a few…”

Aaliyah’s mother, Rochelle, was currently doing a roller set on a client. She worked the rollers around thick strands of hair with her long, curved, golden nails. Rochelle was a hard working woman. She did hair and worked night shifts at a local motel to pay the bills. Anything to make up for Aaliyah’s father being in prison for six years.

She was the epitome of 90s fine: Rochelle embodied a beauty that was both timeless and undefinable, leaving a permanent imprint on anyone that crossed her path. Her unique blend of elegance, confidence, and charisma inspired and resonated with Aaliyah. That kind of fine isn’t just about looks — it’s about attitude, style, and an effortless grace.

“Make the money, don’t let it make you. Money can't make you anything…only your actions can make you something. Money can buy you things that make life easier but one thing it can’t buy is happiness…”

“Girl, stop acting like you ain’t happy he back home...”

One of her mother’s friends and fellow stylist, Donna, was flipping through one of many hair catalogs the shop owned.

“The less he know the better,” Rochelle added the final touches before she walked her client over to the hooded dryers, “It was one time, that’s it…”

“Rochelle, if you don’t calm your fucking nerves. He won’t ever find the fuck out if you don’t hush!”

“Okay, okay…shit–that’s him coming up right now. Aaliyah?”

“Mhm?” Aaliyah mumbled from her seat while coloring in a teddy bear.

“Your father is here…come on and get ya stuff. He’s gonna take you back to the house while I finish up. C’mon, little girl!”

Aaliyah frowned and pouted her lip while packing away her crayons and coloring book.

“Fix that face. You got homework to do…”

She climbed down from her seat and slipped her Barbie book bag over her shoulders. A candy painted Donk with shiny rims slowed to a stop outside of the salon and Aaliyah’s eyes lit up when she recognized her father’s low–cut ceasar with the deep waves. He shut his door and strolled over to the entrance of the salon with swagger.

Roland Davenport AKA Pressure. He was a smooth cat from Baton Rouge with a nefarious past and a deep love for his daughter. Aaliyah was his entire world.

“Is that my little girl! What’s up, Princess!”

He scooped up his six year old and spun her around. Aaliyah giggled joyfully while clinging onto her father’s crisp white tee. His skin was the deepest brown and blemish free. He flashed his pearly whites at her before giving her a kiss to the forehead. Roland put Aaliyah down and then he made his way over to Rochelle.

Aaliyah watched her parents hug each other affectionately. Their lips connected with a gluttonous passion. Roland’s hands roamed down to cuff Rochelle’s dump trunk and she squeezed his bulging biceps in return.

“Stop! Stop…I’m with a client…”

“How long ya gonna be, baby? I was thinking ‘bout taking my favorite girls out to eat.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rochelle grinned flirtatiously, “Where to?”

“It’s a surprise…”

Aaliyah’s parents talked for a few more minutes before her dad led her out of the salon hand in hand. She skipped along the way. Roland opened the back door and took her back pack so that she could buckle in.

“Daddy, I wanna sit up front.” Aaliyah protested with her sweet little voice, “Please?”

“Liyah. You can’t sit up here today. Maybe next time, okay?”

Aaliyah hung her head before fastening her seatbelt. Roland made his way to the drivers side and climbed in.

“How was school today?” Roland questioned, staring back at his daughter through the rear view mirror.

“Good.” Aaliyah flashed a grin with no two front teeth.

“That’s not what ya momma told me…”

Her smile disintegrated.

Aaliyah fiddled with her pleated, khaki uniform skirt. She avoided her father’s gaze, afraid he’d appear angry and she would be in big trouble.

“Look at me, Liyah…”

She did as she was told, staring up at her father.

“I’m not mad. You had every right to defend yourself. ‘Dem lil’ boys won’t mess with you again after what ya did…”

Aaliyah had been dealing with constant bullying from two little boys in her first grade class. They would pull her long plats, kick the back of her chair, call her names, and other cruel things that always resulted in her crying in the bathroom.

“Now if these lil’ niggas wanna have kids of their own someday, they better leave my daughter alone or I’m putting foot in ass…”

Roland made a silly face at Aaliyah and she couldn’t help but to smile and laugh.

“How ‘bout we make a pit stop to grab a snowball?”

“YAY!!!” Aaliyah cheered, her little arms up in the air like she’d just had a victory lap.

Roland cranked the radio, Sho Nuff by 8ball & MJG blasting through the speakers. Aaliyah could feel the seat beneath her vibrate. She watched her father rap the lyrics, a sudden gush of humid air flooding the car when he let the windows down. Roland extended his arm from the window to greet people he knew, the Chevrolet Impala Donk slow gliding through the hood.

They pulled up to a snowball stand that was situated next to a bowling alley and roller-skate rink. Rolland turned his music down before looking back at Aaliyah over the headrest of his seat.

“Which flavor?”

“Georgia Peach!”

“Aight, munchkin. I’ll be back…”

Roland climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Aaliyah peered out of the open window, her eyes following her father’s retreating frame. What she hadn’t noticed, however, was the way an all black Escalade crept up, all four doors opening in unison.

Everything went in slow motion.

Repeated muzzle flashes sparked the air like it was the Fourth of July.

RAT–rat-rat-rat-rat!!!

Her scream pierced the air.

——

Those memories flooded Aaliyah’s mind that Wednesday morning. She’d woken up in good spirits, ready for her Ethics and Psychology class and a lunch date with a special someone. After showering, Aaliyah slipped on a pair of light grey leggings that molded into her hips, thighs, and booty. She paired it with a fitted, white T-shirt and low top Vans. Glasses on, messy hair pinned back with a claw clip, she threw on a denim jacket and collected her school bag near the front door.

Before she could even leave, a hard, booming knock on the storm door of her Shotgun House caused her forehead to wrinkle with surprise. She paused for a second before walking up to the door. Aaliyah brought one dark brown eye to the peephole.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Aaliyah flinched.

“Aaliyah! Open the door! I know you’re here!”

It was her junkie mother.

She didn’t look like herself.

Acne, dull skin, and self-inflicted wounds from picking at her face. Needle marks and collapsed veins from shooting up.

Rochelle was unrecognizable.

One look at her, and all the trauma from her youth flooded her mind. After her father was shot down, Rochelle went into a deep state of depression. She lost her job at the salon, and the pay checks from her motel job didn’t keep the bills paid. Rochelle had no choice but to seek help from a man. Any man that was willing. She sent Aaliyah away at the age of ten for a few years to live with her estranged grandmother, Ruby. Ruby was a strict, Christian woman with no tolerance for misbehavior or rebellion. She lived in a different Parrish in rural Louisiana, closer to Shelby Springs.

Aaliyah was made to do yard and farm work. She had Bible studies on weekends and couldn’t hang with many children because their parents weren’t ‘Godly Folk’. The only thing Aaliyah really enjoyed was horseback riding whenever her grandmother would visit a church friend. When Aaliyah was nearing fourteen, she started sneaking out to see an older boy. Word got around and Ruby lashed out on Aaliyah.

“I didn’t have sex with him! We were just kissing!”

Aaliyah wailed, hands raised to brace herself from her grandmother’s blows.

“You’re just like your mother! Can’t keep your legs closed! Don’t lie to me, Aaliyah! I know you slept with that boy!” Ruby shouted.

She couldn’t stay there any longer. Aaliyah called her mother that same night, begging her to come get her. Rochelle drove an hour out and when Ruby opened her door, Rochelle shoved past her mother.

“You put your hands on my child?! You evil bitch!”

Aaliyah watched from the top of the stairs with her packed bags. Rochelle and Ruby were in the middle of a screaming match.

“You asked for my help, remember?! She lives under my roof, she abides by my rules!” Ruby argued.

“But did I ask you to beat on my child?! Just the same ol’ shit with you! I can’t even rely on you to be there for my daughter—”

“OH! Now look who’s talking. You couldn’t even get your shit together after Roland died to be a mother. Which man is it now paying the bills, Rochelle?! Look at all this,” Ruby pointed to Rochelle’s jewelry and designer, “Don’t look like you struggling to me.”

Rochelle remained silent, scornful eyes glaring at Ruby.

“Aaliyah! Let’s go…”

She hadn’t seen her mother in almost four years. Rochelle looked…fancy.

“Sully is in the car…He drove me here…I missed you, Liyah…”

Ruby watched with folded arms. She locked eyes with Aaliyah, a look of guilt flashing across her face for just a second. They left without a backwards glance.

Aaliyah was very careful around Sully. He was a drug dealer, bringing home money and gifts to spoil Aaliyah. She became used to the revolving door of other criminals entering her home. She was just happy to with her mother again. Aaliyah focused on her studies and poured herself into cheerleading and hip hop majorette.

Eventually, things started to go downhill. Rochelle was introduced to harder drugs, Sully owed people money and he had gambling debts. Things in their home started to disappear, bills were piling up, and Sully turned violent. It took for Ruby and Aaliyah to fight back for Sully to finally leave. It opened the same wound of her father’s death, Rochelle unable to stay strong. Rochelle’s addiction became worse, so bad to the point that she would steal from her own daughter.

Aaliyah couldn’t handle it. As soon as she graduated high school, she got her own place and left her mother behind. It broke her heart, but in order for her to evolve, she needed to break free. Aaliyah hated working at Hooters, and when she turned twenty–six, she started stripping at Crazy Horse.

“Make the money, don’t let it make you…”

Aaliyah opened the front door, but the storm door remained locked. Aaliyah stared down at her mother. Rochelle looked desperate and more frail than the last time she showed up. She’d relapsed again.

“Hey, baby…”

Rochelle pressed her hands against the door.

“Can you help me? I need some cash—”

“I gave you five hundred dollars when I last saw you, momma. I see you back on that shit again…”

Rochelle hung her head in shame.

“I’m trying, Aaliyah. You don’t understand how hard it is.”

“You’ve tried for over twenty years now. I’m tired of helping you and all you do is use me. Weren’t you staying with Mama Ruby?”

She definitely wasn’t staying with Aaliyah.

“I can’t stay wit’ you?”

“Hell no.” Aaliyah quipped.

“I’m your fucking mother!”

“Did you forget what happened the last time you lived with me?! You stole shit from my house! I don’t trust you!”

Aaliyah didn’t need this. She had to go to school.

“Please…please, Li–Li. I’m hungry…I’m broke…pleaseeee…”

Aaliyah stared her mother down with a venomous glance. There will always be a soft spot for Rochelle, but the repeated hurt was exhausting. Seeing her mother like this broke her heart. She just couldn’t stop using.

“Okay…”

Aaliyah opened her storm door. Rochelle slipped inside quickly. Aaliyah kept a watchful eye on her mother while she admired Aaliyah’s cozy home.

“C’mon…”

They entered Aaliyah’s kitchen. Rochelle climbed onto a bar stool, peering around with a nervous look. Aaliyah opened her fridge, bringing out leftover catfish and grits she’d prepared last night for dinner.

“That piece right there…yeah…”

Aaliyah rolled her eyes.

She gave her mother the thickest piece of catfish and a good portion of cheesy grits. While the food heated, Aaliyah reclined her plush bottom against the counter. She stared her mother down, unable to shake the pain that fought to bubble to the surface.

“How’s school?” Rochelle questioned, unable to avoid picking at her skin.

Aaliyah tampered down her resentment and cleared her throat to speak.

“Good. I’ll be graduating in June.”

“That’s good, baby. Real good…June…How many tickets you gettin’?”

“Uhm,” Aaliyah checked on the catfish, “Not really sure yet.”

“Still dancing?”

Aaliyah rubbed her arms.

“No.”

The smell of the crispy fish wafted her mother’s nose. Aaliyah opened the oven to retrieve it. The grits on the stove top were nice and smooth now. After plating the food, Aaliyah wrapped it with aluminum foil and slid it across the kitchen island to her mother. She opened her pantry to grab a plastic fork and knife, securing it with some paper towels before holding it out towards her mother.

“I can’t sit here and eat?”

“You know you can’t…”

“Aaliyah—”

“Look, I have class. I’m gon’ miss it if you don’t take this shit and leave—”

“LOOK,” Rochelle stood, “I’m sorry you hate me so much. I’m sorry about all that shit, but I’m still your mother, Li–Li.”

“Oh? Last time I remember you being a mother was when I was six years old. Anything after that don’t count.” Aaliyah fired back.

Rochelle parted her cracked lips to speak, but her words stilled in her throat. Her tears flowed down her face and she wiped them away with the back of her dingy sleeve. Aaliyah stood before her with a rigid expression.

“Okay, I’ll leave…”

Rochelle grabbed her plate of food and Aaliyah stepped out of the way for her to walk in front of her. Tears prickled her eyes but she hastily pulled herself together. Aaliyah followed her mother towards the front door. She opened it, unable to reach her mother’s gaze.

“I love you, Li–Li…”

A solemn tear cascaded down Aaliyah’s face.

“…think you could look out for me?”

Aaliyah released a sigh before reaching into her bag. She plucked out whatever cash she had– one hundred and fifty dollars– handing it over to her mother.

Rochelle accepted it shamefully.

“Thank you, Li–Li. Take care of yourself…”

——

Professor Richmond carried his brown leather briefcase with him into the lecture hall. There were already students present the more he approached his desk in his brown dress shoes. His oceanic eyes swept the rows of students, his gaze zeroed into a vacant desk. Bringing his Apple Watch up, he was right on schedule. She would be arriving late today it seems.

Terry couldn’t go the remainder of his weekend into the early weekday without Aaliyah crossing his mind. She invaded and consumed him without her physical presence. He was two grand broker and overjoyed. He’d spend more on her in a millisecond. That shapely body is a walking sin. He found himself daydreaming of how it would feel to press his muscles into the softness of her curves. How would the curl of his biceps feel around her thighs? The ridges of his abdomen beneath her hands as she explored?

“I hope you all read up on Darwin and The Moral Sense. We’re jumping straight into discussion…”

Terry removed his navy blue suit jacket, then he rolled up the sleeves to his white, button down shirt that he wore tucked into matching navy blue slacks. He used a red Expo marker to write: Chapter Three of The Descent of Man. After capping the marker, he turned his attention to the class. With his pointer finger, he pushed his glasses back from the bridge of his nose.

“The keystone significance of morality in human distinctness is clearly asserted by Darwin in the first sentence…and the quote says….”

Terry snapped his fingers before pointing at a student within the second row with their hand raised. A white male with wooly, dark brown hair and a hooked nose.

“I fully subscribe to the judgment of those writers who maintain that of all the differences between man and the lower animals—”

“The moral sense of conscience is by far the most important, correct, James. But why is that?”

He cast his penetrating eyes across his students before flicking his gaze at the door. Another student bravely raised their hand and Terry motioned for them to speak. He continued to lecture shortly after that.

“We know from his notebooks that Darwin was reading the contemporary philosophical literature about moral behavior in 1837…”

As he continued, pacing in front of his desk, hands in the pockets of his slacks, the absence of Aaliyah weighed heavy on him. Minutes ticked away and soon enough, class was dismissed. Terry spoke with a student after class about the grade he’d given them for the midterm paper before packing away his things and leaving.

He made it back to his makeshift office space, shut the door and shuffled inside, careful not to knock his briefcase into stacks of decades old textbooks and files. With his thumb and pointer finger, he flicked on his table lamp, a yellow glow igniting the space. The swivel chair situated at his rectangular, wooden desk creaked slight as he settled down. Terry cracked his wrists, a habit of his when he felt too wound up.

iPhone in hand, he found Aaliyah’s contact.

“Here,” Terry handed Aaliyah his phone, “Put your number in.”

Aaliyah stared up at Terry through her curled lashes with a smile that enticed him into a further aroused state. She held out her small hand and made a come hither motion. Terry felt his phone slip from his fingertips and watched her with a sharp gaze and a slight smirk. She typed away, and he caught her eye before she saved it.

Terry texted her phone later that evening and Aaliyah replied with a kiss emoji.

Terry: Goodnight, Beautiful ❤️

Aaliyah: Nite Professor 😘

He texted her on Sunday, not saying much, just a simple greeting. He didn’t want to come off too strong, although he was fiendish for her attention.

Terry: Hi, Aaliyah. Hope you slept well ❤️ Any plans for today?

Aaliyah: Hi 😏 slept well thanks for asking. how was your sleep? & I’m currently out to brunch with friends.

Terry: You’re welcome. had a great rest. Brunch is fun. I’m sure you look great 😌

Aaliyah: I do 😉

Terry: SO BEAUTIFUL 😍

Aaliyah: Thank you ❤️ can’t wait to see you on Wednesday.

Terry: I’m looking forward to it ❤️

Terry sent Aaliyah a new text.

Terry: Hey, is everything okay?

It wasn’t like her to miss class. Terry unfastened the first few buttons of his shirt. He stood to stretch his sore legs from his workout earlier, easing his way over to the only window in his office. Terry looked out the window. The sky was tar-black and the large clouds seemed as if they were moving towards him. He heard a tapping on the window and then it became a pitter-patter. People ran for cover outside and umbrellas were opened as the clouds spat out their beads of water. Puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. The roofs of the cars danced with spray and he could hear the murmuring of the rain through the window. It sounded like the buzzing of angry bees.

Buzz Buzz

Terry back tracked to his desk, reaching over and grabbing his phone.

Aaliyah: I’m sorry I missed class, Terry. Everything isn’t okay actually. I wasn’t feeling it. Can I call you?

Terry: Yes

He answered immediately.

Terry took a seat, “Hello?”

“Hi…”

Her voice sent chills down his spine.

Terry sensed her sadness.

“Want to talk about it?”

“…Can we still meet for lunch?”

“We can. It’s raining pretty bad out. Sure you’ll be okay driving?”

“I’ll be fine, I’m standing on my back porch right now…looks like it’s slowing down.”

“Okay. Uh…I was thinking Noir. It’s a nice jazz inspired restaurant and it’s a great vibe for cozy and intimate dining. Do you need me to pick you up?”

“No, that’s okay. I can meet you there. I know Noir.”

“Okay, drive safely, love.” Terry said.

“I will, you too. See you there.”

——

Noir didn’t have many patrons that afternoon, and Terry wasn’t complaining. He scooted himself into a booth, the dim light hanging above him so dull as if a shade had been cast upon it. His wet dress shoes squeaked slightly as he made himself comfortable. Terry ordered two filtered waters with lemon and hot water to soak the silverware. His legs swung back and forth beneath the booth table anxiously. Eyes that appeared turquoise glanced towards the entrance and he made out the silhouette of Aaliyah Davenport entering.

She must’ve gotten caught in the rain. She was dressed casually, a large Louis Vuitton tote bag over her right shoulder and a denim jacket flung over her left arm. She paused, eyes searching for Terry. He leaned further out of the booth and waved her down. Aaliyah fixed her gaze on him and a small smile graced her beautiful lips. Terry watched her saunter over, and the further she approached, the more her smile brightened.

Terry stood, fixing his pants since they had ridden up on his thighs and bulged around his crotch. Aaliyah slowed down to a stop before him, an awkward pause with nervous glances between them. Ultimately, Terry opened his arms and Aaliyah giggled before wrapping her arms around him. Terry caught a whiff of her hair; coconut and hibiscus. Mmm…he could feel the slight dampness of her curls through his dress shirt.

Her T-shirt beneath his fingertips was slightly wet from the rain droplets. Aaliyah broke away from him and gave him one last look before settling into the booth. Terry followed, situated across from her. He loved how natural and beautiful she looked. Her curls were slightly heat damaged at the ends, giving it personality. She wasn’t wearing her glasses today, Terry able to enjoy those pretty brown eyes again. Her hoop earrings swung as she swept hair from her eyes.

“I ordered us some water for now if that’s okay.” Terry mentioned.

“That’s ‘awrite with me, Professor.”

She has such a cute voice. Honeyed.

“I hope I didn’t miss anything crucial. I’m sorry.” Aaliyah apologized.

“Don’t be. We discussed chapter three…have you read it?”

“I have. No assignments?” Aaliyah replied.

“No—Aaliyah, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t care to talk about class. He wanted to know what was bothering her. She looked so saddened. It didn’t sit right with him.

“Uh…it’s a lot. I don’t wanna pour my shit out on you.”

“I’m willing to listen, if you’ll let me. No pressure…”

Aaliyah tilted her head and considered his words. Their water arrived and the waiter was ready to take their orders. Aaliyah hadn’t even looked over the menu.

“Give us another minute, please? Thanks…”

Aaliyah started flipping through the menu. The conical body of the saxophone in the background soothing.

Terry decided to order them an appetizer. Mini crab bites. He wasn’t too sure what to order for lunch.

“Do you like crab bites?” Terry asked.

“I do. That sounds good,” Aaliyah peered up at him with a timid smile, “I was thinking of getting a salmon ceasar salad.”

“Tasty,” Terry stroked his goatee, “I’ll probably do a shrimp Po’Boy.”

Their waiter circled back and Terry ordered everything. Alone again, they sipped their water and caught each other’s eye. Aaliyah pushed the wedge of lemon in her glass down further with her straw. She released a sigh before leaning against the table.

“My momma showed up today. Right when I was leaving for school.”

“Ya’ momma? I take it you’re not happy about that…”

Aaliyah’s eyes glistened. Terry wanted to reach out and stroke her soft cheek.

“My mom is a drug addict. Been an addict since I was sixteen.”

Terry allowed what she revealed to him to settle into his mind. He gave her a slow nod, and his eyes fixated on her deeper.

Aaliyah continued with a shaky voice, “After my father was killed, she became depressed and she blamed herself for the longest time. I was there when it happened…saw the whole thing,” Aaliyah rubbed her arms, “He hadn’t even been out of prison for a year and he was shot…”

Terry watched her straighten her back and sniffle, trying her best to calm herself down.

“My momma’s been in and out of rehab. I’ve help her, my grandmomma helped her…she stole from me, disappointed me every single time…” Aaliyah stared down at her hands, “And all she can think to do is show up on my doorstep with her hands out. That broke me.”

Terry twisted his full lips and his eyes fell to her hands. He watched the way her fingers fiddled. With an impulse so strong, he covered her hands with his much larger ones, stroking them with his thumbs. Aaliyah watched the way his hands worked to sooth her. Like he was massaging the stress out of her. Aaliyah exhaled, and then she locked eyes with Terry.

“I love her so much…”

“I know you do, I can see it…I can feel it.” Terry spoke softly.

He released her hands so she could thumb away a tear.

“I’m so sorry, Aaliyah. Sorry about your father. Sorry about your mom…”

“Thank you, Terry. I really appreciate it. I know this is supposed to be a nice lunch. I feel like I’m ruining it with my fuckin’ bullshit.”

“There’s nothing ruined, love. I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to open up to me about it. I just don’t like seeing you like this…your mom isn’t willing to get help?”

“That’s the thing,” Aaliyah took a sip of her water to help get rid of the lump in her throat, “She’s been in and out of rehab plenty of times. It’s this guy she keeps running back to. I don’t really remember his name…all I know is that he’s a dealer. She’s always had a thing for criminals.”

“Your grandmother, what’s up with that?—am I asking too many questions?”

“No, no,” Aaliyah shook her head, “My grandma is…her and my mom have always had a strained relationship. She’s attempted to help, but it never works out. There’s a lot of unresolved issues and my mom just can’t stick around long enough to deal wit’ it, ya know?”

“I get it. What was your father like?”

Aliyah frowned slightly, “He was so funny. Had so much swagger to ‘em. Loved cars. He got himself mixed up in some shit. He was doing a favor for a friend that turned out to be a robbery and it landed him in prison.”

She had this faraway look in her eyes, as if she were recalling the nostalgic feeling of being with her dad.

“…I saw him…die…and…” Aaliyah exhaled, “Took me a while to shake it…”

“Damn,” Terry hung his head, “Aaliyah, that’s heavy…”

Terry squeezed her hands and sought out her gaze. Aaliyah looked across at him and a single tear cascaded down her cheek. Terry released her hand and lifted from his seat, scooting in next to her. He snatched up a few napkins and dabbed her face gently.

“It’s okay…it’s okay, Aaliyah…so sorry…”

One hand rubbed her shoulder while she bawled up the used napkin in her hand. With one last sniffle, Aaliyah turned her brown eyes that reminded him of cognac through a glass and just then, she leaned in and those lips he’d desired to feel grazed his cheek with a feather–like touch before molding into his skin with a pressure so soothing his eyelash’s fluttered in satisfaction.

“Thanks for listening,” Aaliyah whispered in his ear.

Terry turned his head at an angle towards her. He gave her a searing, sideways glance.

“You’re welcome. Anytime…”

“Crab bites…”

Startled, Terry leaped up from his seat and returned to his side of the booth. Aaliyah thanked the waiter and they put in their orders. Terry and Aaliyah shared the appetizer. After chewing, Aaliyah licked her lips before speaking.

“Tell me a little more about Terry Richmond.”

Terry gave Aaliyah an attractive half–smirk. 

“Ask me and you shall receive.”

“Why teaching? Is that something you’ve always had a passion for?”

“That’s a really good question. Uh…yes. I was an instructor when I spent time in the Marines. I trained Marines for combat and firearms. Each day was new and exciting. I’ve always had this…desire to share knowledge, inspire others, and make a positive impact. Although my pops wanted me to continue into the Marines, I fell in love with Psychology. So…I got my PhD a year ago, and here I am.”

Aaliyah sat her face into her hands with her elbows propped up on the table, listening to him like he was retelling a fairytale story. Her eyes sparkled with joy at listening to him drone on about moving to North Carolina with his parents after Katrina, enlisted into the Marines, finished his undergrad, living there up until the age of twenty–seven before he moved back to Louisiana to attend LSU. Both of his parents are still together and living in North Carolina. Their food arrived and they tucked in, talking in between bites.

Terry was happy that Aaliyah is in better spirits. She smiled and giggled and it warmed his heart. She thanked him for cheering her up. Terry was honored. The topic veered to hobbies and interests. Aaliyah shared that she used to be a majorette dancer.

“Fishing? Living outdoors? Wow. I grew up doing farm work and riding horses but nothing that deep,” Aaliyah responded with a giggle.

“I can take you sometime…show you what it’s like.”

Terry cocked his head to the side and stared at Aaliyah. She held onto his gaze, the tip of her tongue peeking through her teeth. Terry wanted to wrap his full lips around her tongue and suck on it.

“So…is it a date then? Taking me fishing and camping, Professor?” Aaliyah teased.

“I’ll take you anywhere,” Terry slurped down some water.

“Anywhere?” Aaliyah dragged out with her cutesy voice and lips twinged with a sultry smile.

“Anywhere…anything for you.”

“I like the sound of that,” Aaliyah smiled, “You’ve earned the privilege to spoil me.”

They laughed in unison.

“How did I earn it, exactly?” Terry quirked a brow up and narrowed his eyes playfully.

“Giving me two thousand dollars cash was enough to let me know,” Aaliyah replied bluntly.

Terry chucked. He licked his lips, eyes scanning the space before he lowered his voice an octave, “You liked that, huh?”

“More than you’ll ever know…”

“Let me know, girl…”

Aaliyah tucked her chin and giggled.

“Let me know…” Terry persisted.

“I didn’t like it I love it. I’m a princess and I should be treated accordingly.”

Terry’s eyelids lowered slightly. He leaned in on his arms, eyes roaming her body before staring into her eyes again. He felt a sensation so deep within his ripped core. Something akin to butterflies. Aaliyah excited him. That mouth on her…he loved it.

“The minute I laid my eyes on you at that bachelor party…you were gettin’ all my money…”

“Good, that’s what I wanted,” Aaliyah nibbled on her straw with a teasing smile.

Terry licked his lips. He stared at her through his spectacles while his fingers drummed against the table slowly. Aaliyah sat her glass down and leaned back against the booth.

Staring.

They were practically eye–fucking each other.

Beneath that table, Aaliyah took it upon herself to run her pointed, left foot up Terry’s right leg. She did it achingly slow. It traveled up and up until she stopped with her foot propped up against his seat between his legs. Terry did one lazy sweep of his eyes over her foot and his teeth latched onto his bottom lip.

”Aaliyah…”

“Huh?”

Terry was going to lose it. Lose all his control. He was itching to walk her to the back of the restaurant, push her into a bathroom stall, and beat that fat pussy up with her chest against the door and his large hands keeping her pinned in place and stable on that dick.

“If I could tell you how beautiful you are…how gorgeous you are a million times I would. The moment I laid eyes on you at the beginning of the semester…I couldn’t ignore it. The feeling. I just knew that I had to have you…”

Aaliyah sat transfixed by his words. Lips slightly parted, eyes misty. He loved that look on her face. He wanted her to look at him like that in a kneeled position with his dick hanging in her face waiting to be tended to.

The thoughts in his mind…

“Wow,” Aaliyah chuckled breathlessly, “You want me that bad, huh? Wow…”

She acted as if a man never pined for her so deep like Terry. His unspoken energy even spoke volumes.

He. Needed. Aaliyah.

Professor or not.

“You don’t even know…”

“Mm,” Aaliyah shut her eyes and nibbled on her bottom lip. Her eyes opened slowly, “Terry…you gotta stop.”

They chuckled, Aaliyah’s thighs clenching beneath the table and Terry’s thighs swinging back and forth.

“Why stop?” Terry whispered.

Aaliyah kisses her teeth, “‘Cause…”

Her cute voice was enough to make the tip of his dick respond. He could feel himself leaking.

Thank God the waiter returned with the check. Terry paid the tab, and Aaliyah looked at him, not quite ready to go. Terry didn’t want to, but he had an evening course starting within the next hour or so and he needed to head back to campus.

Fuck that class. Look what’s in front of of you, nigga…

“You ready?” Terry questioned reluctantly.

——

They hadn’t even made it out of Noir for two seconds before it started again. They quickened their pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. Up to now, the sky had been postcard-perfect, but it was changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade was beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of clouds were forming, blotting out the old-gold colour of the sun.

Aaliyah got the first splatter of rain when she was halfway across the parking lot. She took shelter under her Jean jacket, hoping that she could see out past the shower. Terry’s brawny bicep pulled her closer while he covered himself with his own jacket. Droplets of moisture began to drip from the leaves. They were sprinkling onto the concrete like a gardener’s hose. Then the rainfall became more intense. A wall of rain moved over the oak trees and the drops were drumming against the tops of cars. So much rain was falling that the sound blurred into one long, whirring noise. It reminded her of the rotor blades on a helicopter.

Terry’s truck was closer. He rushed to fling the door opened, helping Aaliyah inside before sprinting to his side and climbing in. He slammed the door shut before tossing his drenched suit jacket onto the back seat. The humidity caused the car windows to fog as it poured. Eventually, the noise lessened and the drops faded into a musical chime. They sought out each other’s gaze and laughed.

Aaliyah threw her head back and sighed with contempt. This was a great lunch date. She was so happy she came. After bawling her eyes out about her mother, she needed some fun. Terry was more than just his looks. He was so refreshing. Such a gentleman. Hard working. So deeply fascinated with her. And it was more than just a lustful gaze. A gaze Aaliyah was more than used to. No. This man wanted her.

Aaliyah turned her cheek against the headrest to watch him. Terry felt her eyes and he gave her his undivided attention.

“I want to see you again, as soon as possible, Aaliyah.”

The urgency in his voice let her know he was a man about action.

“I’ll let you know what my days are looking like…okay?”

Terry hummed. The sound vibrated her core. He was impatient.

“Why not check on that now? Friday for an hour and thirty minute class ain’t enough.”

The bite in his voice sounded so much different from his professional tone. Aaliyah was stunned.

“Okay,” She pulled out her phone from her bag, “I have plans Saturday with friends…”

“Friday night?”

“Nothing.” Aaliyah replied.

“Then how about Friday? I’ll take you to dinner.”

“I have to study, Terry.” Aaliyah said, a playful glint in her eyes.

Aaliyah clocked the way Terry’s chest rose and fell with each deep breath. She imagined what he looked like beneath his business attire. Her imagining could only conjure up enough for her to fantasize about. She needed to see the real thing. Up close. Touch on him and memorize the planes and valleys of muscle threatening to bring the freak out of her. He looked like he could bench press and squat three times her size and Aaliyah wanted to test that theory. In many positions.

“I’ll help you study.”

“Isn’t that cheating?!” Aaliyah replied.

“It’s called tutoring, baby girl.”

Baby girl? Oh fucking hell…

Aaliyah became acutely aware of her nipples hardening. So did Terry. His eyes were glued to her breasts sitting up and jutted out.

Terry reached down beside him and his seat reclined back. Aaliyah’s heart skipped a beat. He gave her a pointed look. Aliyah’s eyes fell to his inviting lap…and a rather mountainous bulge…

It was as if the blood coursing through his body carried downward and pooled into his…

The veins in his arms…she could see them clearer now. His large hands resting against his thighs…that man spread…she felt a buzzing in her ears. The silent dominance in his posture…

Aaliyah lifted from her seat in a frenzy, Terry scooped her up with one powerful arm around her waistline and Aaliyah climbed over his lap. She sat herself snugly over his thick bulge that protruded from the crotch of his navy blue slacks like an eruption was waiting to happen. Her fat pussy sat on that protrusion and her breath hitched.

“Professor…”

Terry’s large hands double–cuffed her thick ass and he forced his grip upward, arching her back. Those thick, long fingers sank into the plump flesh as he groped her. One hand above her, pressed against the roof of the car, Aaliyah allowed the feeling of him squeezing and jiggling her cakes to consume her.

His glasses had fogged up. Their mingled, uneven breaths along with the sound of the leather seats filled the space between them. Aaliyah felt his hands smooth around to the junction between her thighs and booty and he applied force, making her ass move on its own—left cheek, right cheek— peering down over her shoulder while she was pressed against him. Aaliyah had her feet folded over his knees.

“Ughhh….”

A deep grunt followed by his arms wrapping around her waist tight. Biceps cutting into her back. The new position had Aaliyah sitting over his print harder. They sat like that for a few minutes, Terry’s nose was pressed against her neck, inhaling cool air and exhaling heated air that caused goosebumps to spread.

His arms loosened and Aaliyah tilted her head down to meet his eyes. She removed Terry’s glasses, resting them inside of his cup holder. The interior of his car smelled like blackberry clove and leather. He smelled like sandalwood. Those eyes. She got lost in them before tearing her gaze away to stare at his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Terry asked softly.

Aaliyah closed the space between them and one of Terry’s hands tangled into her wet coils while his other hand sat above her ass. They gave each other an open–mouthed kiss filled with a feverish need for each other. Wet smacking noises sent signals of arousal. Eyes closed, heads swiveling, equally tasty and soft lips molding into each other’s. Aaliyah allowed her hands to run beneath his dress shirt and white better, coming into contact with warm skin stretched over an impressive physique.

“Unh…”

She found herself moaning.

A single finger of Terry’s traced the waistline of her leggings. The sensation caused her body to shiver. Aaliyah sat up, leaning back against his steering wheel. Terry locked eyes with her while his fingers brushed from her waist down to her pussy. The heat radiating from there could have added to the fog on the windows .

“You deserve so much…you’re so fuckin’ sexy…”

Aaliyah adjusted herself to tilt her body against his so that Terry could put his hand down her leggings.

“Damn…it’s like that, baby?”

“Uh-huh…”

Terry’s hand cupped her fat pussy through her thong. Aaliyah clung to his shoulders while holding his gaze. Terry’s tongue—thick and pink—poked out and Aaliyah accepted the invitation of touching tongues with him. His fingers moved her panties to the side. He grunted into Aaliyah’s mouth.

“Damn…damn…”

His fingers rubbed up and down. Aaliyah spread her thighs further.

“There you go…nasty girl… spreading your legs like that…want me to touch all over this pussy…I like that…”

His words. She whimpered when his fingers started doing that up and down motion between her swollen labia and over her stiff clit. Aaliyah couldn’t believe how wet her pussy is. Creamy viscous spread all over her.

“Unh…Terry…”

“This what you think about? You think about me expressing how much I want you with my fingers in your pussy?…”

Two fingers sank deep. Aaliyah’s mouth dropped open. Terry’s brows furrowed and his eyes would flicker from her face to his hand moving up and down in her leggings.

“Aaliyah…this lil’ pussy tight, girl…I can’t believe I’m fingering you right now…”

He looked like he couldn’t believe it. Jade eyes intense.

“It’s s–s–so, wet…”

His words stuttered out in disbelief.

“My pussy like you just as much as I do, Professor…”

Aaliyah chewed on her bottom lip and her head lulled back. She started bouncing on his fingers. Damn, she missed this. She missed being fingered the proper way. She ain’t have dick in almost a year. The last man to have her was a mistake and not even worth mentioning. All she could focus on was keeping her legs spread and that pussy open.

“Good girl…you follow directions well…I like that,” Terry dragged his teeth along his bottom lip, “Look at me, Aaliyah…”

She did as she was told.

“I played your little game. Now what?”

He was toying with her.

This man…this was another side to him she was more than excited to see.

“Now you make me cum…make me cum, Professor.”

Terry chuckled, “Make this pussy cum?”

His fingers were knuckle deep.

“Send me home in a puddle, Terry…”

“Mmm…that sweet, little voice gon’ get you in trouble…keep moaning…uh-huh…mhmmmm…”

Aaliyah clamped down on his fingers. She lowered her head over his headrest and rode out her orgasm. So intense. It hit her like a freight train. Terry pressed deeper, stroking a spot that had Aaliyah crying. Terry gently withdrew his fingers. Aaliyah’s breaths slowed down, but her body was still recovering from the after shocks.

His hand resurfaced just as the sun peered over the storm clouds. The aroma of her pussy and the cum clinging to his fingers flooded her nose in the best way. Terry held his manicured fingers up. Aaliyah locked her gaze on creamy–white goodness all over his fingers and dripping down to his wrist.

Terry played with it. Rubbing his fingertips together. Spreading his fingers to see how slimy it looked. Aaliyah watched him suck each finger while his eyes never left her face.

“I taste good?” Aaliyah asked with a smile.

“Fuckin’ amazing, baby…”

Terry licked his lips and Aaliyah leaned in to steal a kiss. They kissed for some time before Terry broke away. He released a growl of frustration.

“I gotta head back to campus…I have an exam for my next class…”

Aaliyah pecked his lips before climbing off his lap and into her seat. Terry had his lip pouted while fixing himself. Aaliyah giggled, her eyes dropping down to his neglected erection. He caught her watching, grabbing her wrist and sitting her hand over his bulge.

It…was…thick…

“It’s so big…”

Aaliyah explored, squeezing and stroking…Terry swiped his bottom lip with his tongue and closed his eyes for a second to gather himself. Aaliyah removed her hand and Terry looked over at her like he didn’t want her to stop. Ever. She didn’t want to go, but Terry needed to get back to Campus. The last thing she’d ever want to do is sabotage his career.

“I don’t want to leave, but it’s okay…I’ll see you Friday, right?” Terry questioned, grabbing Aaliyah’s hand and kissing the back of it over and over.

“Yes. I’ll be there…”

Terry made a come hither motion and Aaliyah obeyed, slipping him some final tongue before they parted ways. Terry put his glasses back on, giving Aaliyah one final look of longing. She knew she had to be the one to leave him behind because if she didn’t, he would have skipped the class and spent the rest of the day proving to her just how much he needed her.

“Bye, Professor.”

Aaliyah opened the car door. She hopped down from his truck, grabbing her jean jacket. She blew Terry a kiss before shutting his door and heading towards her Jeep.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the taste of her pussy on his tongue and her scent on his fingers while he lectured.

——

Aaliyah 🌹: Studying for an exam tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I had a really great time today 😏 just might touch myself thinking about it. Sweet Dreams, Professor. Xoxoxo 👄

Terry moved towards his living room, an NBA game on in the background. He was shirtless with black joggers on and a durag over his short curls. A single gold cross chain sat in the middle of his pecs. The heels of his socked feet sat into the throw rug beneath him. He had grilled salmon, broccoli, and dirty rice for dinner.

Aaliyah.

That woman awakened something primal in him. Although his eyes bounced back and forth across the screen, his mind wandered to the way his taste buds craved more pussy. He had such a good time getting to know her. The way her lips felt like the softest cushion against his lips. The soft, little whimpers she made drove him crazy. He dragged a hand down his face.

He studiously ignored the monster in his joggers.

Could’ve been full of something else if you had just taken what was in front of you.

The game did nothing to calm down his body. He flipped through the channels looking for something, anything to distract himself from the length of his dick pulsing against his thigh. Terry shifted his hips on the couch, the fight to ignore it impossible.

“Send me home in a puddle, Terry.”

Terry could still hardly believe that he had Aaliyah in his lap, lips against hers, fingers deep in her pussy, and in public. The morbid excitement from earlier returned to him in tenfold, echoing in the throb of his manhood. He stared forward at the movements on his television unseeingly, fighting his mind as it tried to conjure up an image of himself between Aaliyah’s legs. Her pretty pussy gleaming at him naughtily making his mouth water. He wanted to be the only one to taste her for as long as he lived. To bury his face in between her buttery–smooth thighs to kiss, lick and tongue fuck her until she was a whimpering, quivering mess. His name a constant chant on her lips as she feebly tried to push him away after her orgasm. He wouldn’t stop. Not until all she wanted was him.

“Terry…Terry…right there, Terry…”

“Shit,” he grunted as he lifted his hips off the couch slightly, pulling his joggers down to his thighs, his engorged dick springing free, curving up to look at him. The purpling head waved in the air at him in greeting and invitation. Terry scrubbed a hand over his face at the sight, exasperated at his excitement for a girl he’d never seen naked and his inability to turn this shit off. Sleep wasn’t going to come easily to him if he didn’t take care of big boy first.

Terry’s eyes tracked a drop of precum as it dribbled over his head and down his pulsating shaft, collecting at his heavy balls. His dick was quite literally demanding attention, the veins overly pronoucned along the sides beating in time with his heart, and he was hard pressed not to give in. He hadn’t touched himself in a few days, work had kept him busy and the thoughts of Aaliyah after the bachelor party had given him a reason to. He quickly contemplated walking back to his room and using his fleshlight to get the job done before he decided against it. He was too needy to move now.

Tentative fingers ran over the velvety tip, collecting the beads of moisture there and spreading them around slowly. He closed his blue–gray eyes and pushed his head back into the sofa cushion with a flex of his hips. A harsh ‘fuck’ escaped his clenched teeth at the sensitivity. This was going to be quick, rough and lacking any of the finesse he usually showcased in any moment of sexual gratification. Even if that moment was just with him.

Terry’s dominant hand wrapped lightly around himself, trying to mimic how his Aaliyah would touch him, his other dragging over his exposed abdomen. His hand pulled down roughly, electing a low groan from him, as a fantasy bloomed in his mind. He could see her behind his lids that had fallen closed. Kneeling in front of him, between his parted thighs, bright eyes glued to his expression as she bit her lip in concentration. Watching him with that sassy look she got any time she wanted things her way.

Terry spread his knees as far as his joggers would allow, his hand twisting and pulling himself, gaining momentum with every tight pass of the head. Thumb coming up to swiped over the moist slit. Half curses spewed out of him as his pace quickens, his free hand coming down to fondle his sack. Rolling it between his fingers. The sensation doing nothing to abate his impending release.

“Fuccccckkk…..” his voice hitched and raised, battling with the enthusiastic wet sounds of his hand pumping.

His fantasy girl looked between him and his twitching dick, her hand moving as fast as he was. She licked her parted lips and leaned towards his thick pipe. Her warm breath only heightened his pleasure as she whispered to him lowly.

“Cum for me, Professor…”

And he did just that. His heels dug into the plush rug beneath him, using it for leverage as he fucked up into his hand, the coil in his belly growing tighter until it snapped. A croak of Aaliyah’s name bouncing off his walls. Thick spurts of warm cum landing haphazardly across his upper body didn’t deter him as he continued to drag his fist over his oozing dick until the motion became too much for his overly sensitive body. Legs shuddering with each pass.

Terry let go with a deep sigh, taut body relaxing slowly until he was sitting naturally in his seat. Terry glanced down at the evidence of his ecstasy littered across his chest, stomach and hand.

He huffed an annoyed laugh at how quickly his orgasm had taken him. And how hard his dick still was as it bobbed in front of him, his stamina was working against him this time around. With a disbelieving shake of his head, he gripped the base, pulling his hand with a slow rotation of his wrist upwards. His release making the perfect slick for round two.

“F–fuuck, babyyy…” Terry hissed at the feeling. He let go, palming the head a few seconds to stave off the mounting pressure. He would not come that quickly again.

Terry took his time, languidly pulling at his dick, unrushed. Rubbing his free hand up and down his stomach, tweaking his nipple quickly before sliding back down. He repeated this process as his hand gradually picked up speed.

The short nails on Terry’s left hand bit deliciously into his skin as he raked them down his chest and stomach. The sharp pain was closely followed by a wave of hazy pleasure causing his hips to buck faster into his hand. He abandoned all notion of slow, the tightening in his balls and urge to reach completion pushing fast and hard to the forefront of his mind. The juxtaposition of two intense sensations never failed to throw him over the edge.

Terry threw his head back, neck straining as he clenched his jaw. A constant string of yes, fuck, yes screaming in his head as his abdominal muscles flexed and clenched. His hand is almost a blur with how quickly he’s moving.

Twist

Grip

Plunge

Slap

Squeeze

Fucking Aaliyah did this to him. Those eyes, that smile, her voice, that goddamn body…

Flashes of her twerking in a split, making that ass clap, looking back at it, licking her lips with that tongue ring, talking her shit, how sweet her pussy tasted, how snug her walls were around his fingers.

He wished it was her. Her delicate hand working him. Her brown eyes drooping with arousal. Her heavenly voice encouraging him to go ahead. Let go. He could almost smell her. Almost taste her.

Her pussy was so fucking sweet. He couldn’t wait to suck on her pussy. He wanted to bury his nose into it and draw in a deep breath that almost burned his lungs. He wanted to make her unravel beneath his tortuous tongue and lips. Over and over and over—

He erupted at the thought, breathing hard and keening through his messy release. The second nut even more than the first. Still, he continued to stroke, torturing himself, milking himself like he wanted her to.

Terry was out of breath by the end of it. Body spent and tingling.

So much for not cumming quickly.

He sat there for a long time, waiting for the hollow feeling to retreat from his bones, his cum cooling on his skin. He needed to take another shower.

But what he really needed was her.

Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter @dashhoney25

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Portgas D. Ace Headcanons 01

Excuse me Oda-sensei, but that 40 year old Ace is simply criminal. Thank you so much for blessing us with him

Anyway! Have some Husband!Ace headcanons For more Ace content please head to my Tumblr MasterList

Ace is, respectfully, a huge simp for his wife

To the extent that the Whitebeard crew straight up jokingly awarded him with a “Biggest Wife Simp” Award

They made it look official and had Whitebeard sign it and everything. There's even a stamp.

Ace has it framed and hung proudly on the wall next to your bachelor’s degree / college diploma / degree in general. 

I feel like despite his own personal insecurities, Ace still manages to be an amazing father

I imagine Ace originally setting out for like one or two kiddos at most (because y'know...what if he's not good enough) and ending up with 3 or 4 kids

Thing is, that’s both your faults.

Ace is tender and goofy with his kids, and he’s so friggin caring: to the extent that…well wouldn’t it be neat to see him with maybe another 2 or 3 kiddos of his own? 

(Your husband is hot okay?)

In his case, he swears you have a unique glow about you when you’re pregnant. But more than that when he sees you with your first born, he suddenly wants a big family with you.

I imagine his kids are an eldest son, then his princess, then the youngest boy who takes after his uncle Luffy.

His kids aren’t parentified. He keeps his issues far, far, away from them. Besides, he’s got you by his side.

He was dedicated to making sure they got as much playtime as possible.

He heard about learning through play, and he is DEDICATED to doing that as much as possible

Ace’s kids are spoiled with affection, but not spoiled brats.

While it’s true he’d give them the world, he’d rather let them go get it themselves. 

For example: when they asked for a tree house, he gave them the greenlight immediately.

But they had to build it themselves.

It was a super fun project lasting a little over two months with the whole family involved.

Oh and the Whitebeard crew helped too.

It took a while to get the design down initially, then the shopping logistics and whatnot (they used a lot of math here - see education via play)

Building the thing took maybe a weekend or two because the Whitebeard Crew and even the Strawhats came over to help

(It was mostly Franky and Usopp doing work, Sanji was cooking with Thatch)

Uncle Luffy was not allowed near the construction zone after an accident.

They almost destroyed the tree house with their partying once

Ace’s kids were not happy and no one was allowed in the backyard for the rest of the night

He makes sure they have proper manners and self-defense skills

You had to help out here, no lie.

He admitted he needed your help, especially after a dinner with Garp where Makino tagged along to see Ace again

He puts all of his kids into martial arts classes

especially his princess - he’s so proud of her when she beats up bullies

He’s not great at discipline though to be honest. He probably goes about it similarly to Garp. 

Ace will not tolerate any of his kids being nasty to their mother. No matter the phase.

You will have to hold him back if you want to let them get their frustration off their chest.

He’ll let them talk, but you’ll have to keep a hand on him somewhere, his arm, his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his back and rub soothing circles

Let’s just say, “talk shit, get hit,” is Ace’s attitude towards anyone being demeaning towards you (more so with adults, not his kids, but that's why they get a scolding)

"Ace my love" (he melts every time you call him that) "the kids’ll start thinking you love me more than them if you do that"

"My kids won’t disrespect their mother though!"

"They’re just venting darling, and when they say or do something that violates my boundaries, I'll be sure to reinforce it. Lead by example right?"

If they ever feel like pissing Ace off for fun they can just say something kinda not nice about you and he'll get mad and they'll flee from him giggling like the little gremlins they are

Ace is veeeeeeeeerry physically affectionate and he isn’t shy about it at all.

At gatherings with the Whitebeard family, he will gladly seat you in his lap, he will happily hug you as you are seated.

His arm is on your waist most of the time.

They tease him to make him tone it down, he does not.

He, in fact, dials it up. Turns up the heat lol.

You have kids? Not in front of them? What do you mean, not in front of the kids? It’s important they know just how much he loves their mama!

So he will continue to be playful with his hugs and kisses and other displays of affection.

It’s nothing too over the top. Just hugs and quick pecks wherever.

Your entire head is fair game for his smooches, your arms (he loves kissing your pulse and then making eye contact, sneaky guy that he is), your shoulders.

Maybe lifting you and spinning you around. Cuddles. Little bites.

He will play-wrestle his kids to “fight” them over getting to cuddle you, and then he’ll just put all his weight on all of you in a group cuddle

Just to let you know, your kids also receive all the warmth and love of his affections.

When his sons are still tiny and adorable, he smooches them all over. The kisses grow less frequent as they grow older, but the hugs do not stop.

Oh no, hugs galore.

Ace still pecks his little princess on her forehead though

When they’re all under ten he’ll wrap them in a hug (after he chased them down and caught them so they’re laughing and screaming) and start smooching their cheeks while they laugh and try to get out of his grasp

Also yes she’s his princess, but that girl has no problem throwing a fully grown man twice her size around, he made sure of it.

I reiterate: Ace is not remotely shy about displays of affection

Like his eldest could have a friend over, and Ace would still launch a full scale hug attack using the rest of his troops (daughter/youngest)

It's complete with screeching, screaming, and a lot of laughter

His kids used to get teased for it, but it didn’t take more than a few conversations for them to instead jeer at the kids that teased them.

"You’re all jealous your parents don’t love you like ours do"

"How sad, your parents don't hug and kiss you"

Their dad, grandpa, uncle - uncles really, are all gremlins - it's in their DNA

The kids are really physically affectionate with each other as a result

Deadass they’ll be kicking the shit out of each other one second and the next they’ll be all cuddled and huddled up playing Mario Kart or something

Ace is his kids’ hero.

His sons aspire to have his level of fitness.

His daughter, when she’s older, uses him as a standard for dating

You're relieved

Ace is touched and a touch nervous, because he is aware of his shortcomings, though he works hard to keep improving

Of course when you look at him, a twinkle in your eyes, and tell him, “I’m so proud of her, I’m so proud of you!” He feels better

When you continue: “if she can find a guy like you, who cherishes her as much as you cherish me, I’d be so happy.”

Ace loves you so much he swears

[arieswritez]

puppy love

puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 2

chapter 1

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization

about; . . i am not the boy you knew and you are dead to me you watch someone you know grow into static company - boy (alex g)

2.

your chest ached.

with changing seasons, countless birthdays, the broadening of your consciousness brought an expansion of your body. growing in places that made you walk with a slouch and had your hands tugging at the front of your shirt. the shorts you'd wear during summer turned into your shame whenever your parent(s) would ask you to go and change for something more. . 'appropriate'.

ridiculous, you thought. how could they be inappropriate? they were your favorite pair.

or they used to be.

a man old enough to be your father leered at you while you were out riding your bike. you took them off as soon as you got home. you're sure they sit at the bottom of your closet to this day.

your hands got bigger. your fingers stretched. you got taller. people often told you you looked like your parent(s). you didn't see it.

despite the passage of time, mark was still there.

your parent(s) had long received the grayson's blessing to allow him refuge in your home: playdates whenever he wasn't preoccupied with baseball and important school work. but as the pages of the calendars turned, your parent(s) worried your little playdates had gone on for too long.

however, much like the dilemma your teachers had, no one had the heart - nor the energy - to separate you two. the two of you were entering the age where interest in romance grew and your parent(s) worried. it was cute, at first. when a 6 year old mark would follow you home and your parent(s) would have to contact the graysons, lest they turn the world upside down searching for their one son. or the time in which he'd brought ring-pops and claimed you'd gotten married.

but the fact of the matter was that mark had changed, too. you didn't see it at first. didn't even imagine it could've ever been that way.

mark was a growing boy.

there was evidence of that etched in markings on the wall next to your bedroom door: comparisons of height done in pencil. one with your initial. the other in his. you'd always be surprised when he kept surpassing you inch by inch. and you'd make a face whenever you'd - yet again - failed to keep up. and after your parent(s) wearily watched the two of you engage in hand size comparisons, the door to your bedroom was to remain open at all times.

but the truth of the matter was that there was simply no need.

mark was hardly ever in your bedroom those days. and much to your disappointment - well, why were you? it's not like you didn't see it coming - he'd gotten friends of his own. friends who grew with him in height and mannerism. who'd say big, nasty words and who's eyes would follow girls down the hallway. who he'd sit and rough house with until teachers had enough and sat him next to the most 'well behaved student' - you - despite his huffing. friends who wouldn't spare you a glance even though you were walking with mark. who'd talk directly to mark as if you weren't even there and steal him away with excuses of baseball practice. or simply because they could.

and mark would go.

and once, you felt your face going hot when one of them scoffed, "sorry, are we stealing you away from your girlfriend?"

mark returned the laugh - you didn't know if he knew you heard or not. you also didn't wanna know - and said, "ew."

laughter.

and if you were anyone else you would've thought about throwing his own baseball bat against his back. but all it did was make you sad. it made you angry. it made you embarrassed. and you didn't know why.

mark was a growing boy.

you were growing, too.

but you wanted to stay little for as long as you could. and the dread that came with buying newer clothes each passing year left you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

you obsessed over magazines. the pretty girls on social media who's hair looked perfect. who's teeth were whiter. who's skin looked painted on. you're sure

the others in school shared your sentiment.

soon, you had to preoccupy yourself with shaving your arms or your legs or drinking large amounts of water in order to feel something in your tummy.

but mark. .mark never had to worry about that. he was a growing boy. he didn't have to worry about clothes or skincare. he didn't have to watch what he ate.

he was a growing boy.

who cared if he ate half a dozen donuts in one sitting? he was a growing boy.

who cared if all he did was run a few steps in baseball and eat like a chipmunk all the while remaining the same? he was a growing boy!

who cared if he could burp and sneeze loudly, sit like he'd bought the planet, and go outside at night?

.. certainly not you.

but sometimes you wish -

"it's so fucking hot." mark mumbled, hanging off your bed, voice muffled around his - seventh? - donut.

you stared down at the bowl of cotton candy grapes on your lap.

your teeth ached with need.

- . . you were a. . it was easier.

"yeah." you said, squeezing one of the grapes between your index and thumb until the flesh oozed out, shiny and sticky. "i know."

"you almost done?" he asked, turning onto his stomach and wiping the icing off his hands onto your bedding.

the homework sheets in front of you were nearly done. but you'd need a lot more time to finish homework for the both of you. you wonder if your parents knew that mark coming over to do homework just consisted of him distracting you while you did the work.

and maybe they did.

they were always so forgiving to people who weren't you.

in their eyes, you'd ask for advice if he was really taking advantage of you. and none of that whiny complaining of him being too rough, either.

you should've known what you were getting yourself into when you befriended a boy.

boys will be boys. right?

then, he doesn't know his own strength when you were mad at him when one of his playful shoves sent you staggering in front of his friends.

or, he was trying to be funny! lighten up. when he'd grabbed you and groped at your fleshy sides - also in front of his friends.

and most importantly, the two of you had been best friends for so long, there was no reason why something as innocent as you doing a couple of favors for him could cause such turmoil.

you should be nicer to him. i mean, how many other friends do you have?

and that's what the excuses were about.

your parent(s) felt indebted to him. after all, they didn't have the energy to deal with the tides of your mental state: the complex emotions, highs and lows, that only seemed to become that much more apparent as you entered your teenage years.

you imagined how they must’ve thought of you.

it couldn't be that much different than how everyone else did.

mark is so patient, so good at babysitting poor, socially inept you.

but as long as they didn't have to do the heavy lifting, they figured letting mark keep you was their safest bet. it did you good. mark didn't seem burdened. if anything, he seemed happy. he enjoyed taking care of you. and you knew he did. in fact, when he wasn't around his friends. . he was the mark you grew up with.

kind of.

he was still into the same stuff: comics and superhero movies. as long as it was just the two of you. . it wasn't that bad. he cared for you. and he'd show he wasn't all gone when he'd warned you about boys - who, ironically, seemed to perfectly describe his friend group. 

don't date them, he'd say, and it reminded you of when you'd gotten that ring pop and he told you you were his.

his protective demeanor wasn't a problem when he had the strength of a six year old. but mark wasn't six anymore. the jealous fits weren't as endearing. he was rowdier. moodier. and he'd grown into his body. . meaning he had the mass to back his words up.

but you weren't cowed by him. not much, anyway.

which caused you to push away the pile of homework and snap, "why don't you do your own fucking homework? it's too much."

you knew the most mark would do was sulk and pout. that's all he ever did when you'd be preoccupied with other things. . or grouped with the opposite sex. but there'd be moments in which you'd caught the flicker of darkness in his eyes whenever the two of you had a disagreement.

when you said no.

"i'm tired after baseball." he said, slowly, like it's something you were supposed to know.

"yeah, well, i'm tired, too!" you huffed.

"yeah? of doing what?"

"of thinking for the both of us."

"you calling me dumb?"

"you said it." you muttered under your breath, doodling onto the page to distract you from the annoyance bubbling inside you.

you didn't notice him getting up. he'd have a habit of sneaking up on you. maybe he was just quiet. or you were just too absent minded to notice. but either way, before you knew it, you were lifted off the floor from around your waist.

you don't even get a chance to react before he pinned you to your bed. the shock causing your face to grow hot before you begin to thrash beneath him, spitting out insults and trying to hit him in any soft spot you could.

but he was faster, stronger.

repeating, "i'm stupid?" while fighting you off like it was nothing.

he'd always had better stamina, and soon, you're tired and pinned beneath him.

and then he. .

just froze above you.

mark's world had gone still. he could sense everything. the air shifted around him and all his attention landed on you. he could feel weak throbbing beneath the palm of his hands as he held your wrists in a two handed grip above your head.

he could smell your perfumed skin. hear the blood soaring through your veins. the heat from your face warmed him like a furnace. and the realization slammed into him like a freight train.

he'd gotten his powers.

you'd brought them out of him.

“um. can I get up now?” you'd whispered from beneath him, flustered. your eyes narrowed towards your door, the one your parent(s) demanded you to keep open at all times.

mark blinked.

then, shuffled off of you with burning cheeks.

you watched him hastily sling his school bag over his shoulder and waddle out of the room. confused, you called after him - you had a test to study for for christ's sake! - but he didn't stop.

you scrambled after him.

but like years before, you couldn't keep up.

he was gone before you even made it out into the hallway.

CHAPTER 3

[eldritch-spouse]

I can imagine a distant future of Santi overcoming his nature and finally realizing his dreams of having and raising kids. Then, one time he goes to visit his old friend Vesper who's like " So how are you and your *gags* chi- *gags* child *gags* the family is doing ?"

[*Snort*. This is a collection of little moments between Santi and Vesper after Santi has kids.]

Santi doesn't visit as often.

It's only a given, not only does he now have children of his own to take care of, the incubus also knows his presence has stopped being as pleasant to the Ring of Lust as it once was.

He's not necessarily surprised by such.

After all, Santi behaves in a much more subdued manner, dresses a lot more, his clothes have the stink of children, even when he washes them. He can't blame Vesper for scratching at himself and snorting in distaste every now and then. They are still friends, but life has taken them down very different paths.

That doesn't mean some encounters aren't funny to the incubus.

" No. No no! " The King covers his eyes with a clawed hand. " You did not just walk into my chambers with a turtleneck sweater. "

Santi's cheeks are puffed. " King Ves- "

" A fucking sweater, this absolute- " Santi can't help but let a cackle slip. " Take it off right now, I feel sick- I'm going to call the imps over to strip you if you don't! "

[...]

Santi passes his phone to the King, allowing the demonlord to swipe through an album full of family pictures.

Vesper's lips keep curling higher at every picture, no matter how much he tries to muffle that response.

" Well uhm. They're... They sure are. " The King tries, but all he sees are snot-nosed ankle biters who likely stink of all that's nasty.

" They are. " Santi parrots, a devious grin on his face at the other's discomfort.

" I- " A long, pensive hum follows. " They look... "

" Is it really that hard? " The darker demon snickers.

" I'm finding it, Santi. Be patient. "

[...]

While cooking, you get to listen to a call between your husband and the King of Lust on speaker. When the topic becomes inappropriate, both adults switch to infernal language. Santi helps your daughter dress her baby doll, while your son sits by the carpet watching his favorite show.

" Alright, I should get a move on. " Santi says, watching you struggle with a few pans. " We can catch up eventually. Say bye to uncle Vee. "

Both children parrot mildly enthusiastic goodbyes, until your son pipes up. "Dad? " Santi hums. " When will uncle Vee visit? "

" Never. " Comes from the phone immediately, and the incubus doesn't need to see the King to know he's shivering in dread.

Your kids start deflating, to which their father is quick to think of something. " Ah, see, uncle Vee can't visit us. "

" Why? " The little girl sits her doll down, now brushing its hair.

" Uhm. " The incubus opens and closes his mouth a few times. " He's trapped in a biiig castle. " Pause. " And there's a dragon. "

" A dragon?! " Your son's fixation has been mentioned, he's almost vibrating.

" Yes. " Santi nods. " It's very big. And it doesn't like little boys and girls. "

" Aww.... " Both of them huff.

The girl frowns. " I'm sorry uncle Vee. "

" No, it's quite alright. I'll live, the dragon isn't that bad. " Vesper seems to sigh in relief.

" That means a knight is going to save you soon! " She brightens up immediately. " And then he's going to woo you, and you're going to marry! Can I go to the wedding, uncle Vee? Can I? "

Santi covers his mouth with his palm so as to not openly bark in laughter.

" I uh- Y-Yes, of course sweetie. Goodbye now, the uh, dragon, is calling me... "

[ceilidho]

Hi crazy Johnny with a single mam anon back because im insane and have brainrot and am seriously contemplating writing it bcus i feel compelled by the power of Christ (Johnny’s cock) to write something pervy and nasty and creepy but ultimately sweet but im also just braindumping and sharing bcus not enough johnny content floating around I fear so have to pull up my bootstraps and do it myself (this is so long ceil im so very sorry)

anyways so I think this is sooo much hotter if Johnny is either on a prolonged medical discharge or he’s been forced into retirement for one reason or another (because then can keep an eye on you lol) he and like this has been touched on before but he’s just got. nothing to fucking do. And holy hell he’s going crazy. He needs something to do. So his silly, terribly adjusted brain latches onto the poor single mam next door who DEFINITELY needs his help.

Im a sucker for forced codependency. You, who thinks you’re doing great on your own, versus ‘can’t handle this all on yer own, eh little lass?’ Johnny MacTavish. He’s SO fucking subtle about it. Commenting on how hard it must be to have to raise a baby all your own, and gods love you just look knackered here let me take the bairn for a bit. He comes round and makes little comments about your house being messy (disorganised, but not messy) and immediately starts ‘sympathising’ because you just mustn’t have time to clean up but it’s important to keep hazards out the way of the baby, here he’ll *help*.

Never questions your ability as a mother, god no, just slyly drops suggestions that you’re not coping as well as you thought. And it fucking NAGS at you. And eventually, you start going to Johnny more and more for help. I honestly think he would cause problems in your flat (fixable ones, like fucking up the electrics or messing around with the pipes but stuff he knows he can fix) so you either have to A. Move in with him temporarily or B. Have to ask him to fix them. Eventually just says that your landlords a cunt for letting you live in a shithole and insists you just move in with him permanently. You do (it’s not really up for debate).

He doesn’t use condoms. I’m sorry he just doesn’t, but he will TELL you that he does- especially the first time you have sex. You’re all worried because ‘oh god Johnny I’m not on birth control I just put it off after I had the baby and we didn’t use a condom-‘ and he’s immediately tucking you into his chest and stroking your hair and shushing you ‘divvint be daft lass, course i wrapped it up, stupid thing just broke. Did ye not realise? Must’ve been heat o’ the moment, don’t worry yer little heed about it alright? Johnny’s here.” and kisses you on your hair and lulls you into sleep. Adamantly denies whispering about how pretty you’re gonna look pregnant as if he’s trying to subliminal you into pregnancy. lol.

Will legally adopt your baby. Like he’ll suggest it, straight up. And you’re probably a bit taken aback because it’s only been six months but he is insistent. This is probably the catalyst for his ‘im the biological dad’ delusions. Once he’s down as the father he’s actually losing his mind a little. Can imagine Simon or Gaz popping round to check up on Johnny on their next leave and suddenly he has a family and they’re actually a little concerned because when Gaz makes a comment about the baby’s being cute Johnny’s like ‘Yeah we did a good job, didn’we lass?” and between the two of them there’s just silence because johnny this is not your baby but they can see that slightly deranged look in his eyes. Defo asks about all the heavy details of your pregnancy and labour and the first few months so he can pretend like he was actually there for it and will talk about it as if he were actually there (extra bonus points if Gaz actually pulls you aside in the kitchen and asks about Johnny’s behaviour and tells you to be careful LMAO).

So yeah anyways.

PLEASE WRITE THIS IM BEGGING YOU!!!!!! im screaming at that last bit i need this so bad please......i don't ask for much but i swear to god please write this for me. this idea was designed in a lab to inflict the maximum amount of psychic damage on me. please write this and i will happily beta/edit it for you if you need any help omg

[vaporvipermedia]

My Rook Headcanons

[Mostly about his body]

Finally..my time has come.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

We all know that I have to start off with my Fox Beastman!Rook agenda. Even when he’s presenting himself in human form, people can see that his teeth are not normal. Having four sharp canines that peeks out whenever he smiles. Since too many people have noticed, he just resorts to more affiliative smiles.

The reason why Rook wants to hide his beastman traits was for the thrill of and excitement of people finding out who he truly is after all this time. Like: “Hmm, what if I just gaslight my friends into thinking that I’m fully human only for them to find out later that I was actually a beastman? Wouldn’t that be quite silly? Very mischievous if you will?”

He’d like to imagine their expressions switch into complete shock and surprise. Eyebrows raised, mouth agape he’d think it would be such a wonderful surprise. Thinking their reactions would be absolutely beautiful

His potion making skills are very exceptional to say the least but it took a lot of trial and error. Getting some chemical burns when messing with test-run potions.

Although the potion Rook created hides his more visible fox features, his ears and tail do come back whenever he gets too excited or gets a major spike of energy. Something that Rook never thought would happen. [That's why he’s scarily good at controlling his heart rate. He trained his body in order to make sure his features remained hidden.]

Ok, say it with me now. THIS. MAN. HAS. SCARS‼️‼️ This man would not have so much flawless skin while being a hunter. It’s frankly impossible. From nasty tumbles, to possible encounters with wild creatures, ANYTHING!

I feel like Rook picked his skin a lot as a child. Especially scabs. Leaving some permanent marks on his body. He probably did this due to the stress of going out into the forest, wondering what might try to attack him.

Dimples…I don’t have to go in depth with this. We both know we are on the same track here. He has dimples whenever he smiles. It’s there. It’s visible. Let’s move on before I go insane.

Listen…Listen…He has a birthmark on his lower back that looks like the Orion Constellation. IT JUST FITS! CMON!

Rook’s hair is actually a little bit curly and got it from his father’s side. But most of the time he tries new hairstyles to give himself more variety. That variety involves him straightening his hair sometimes.😭😭

BUT AS A BONUS IF HIS HAIR GETS WET HIS CURLS WILL POP OUT! SO THAT’S A WIN!

[Clutching my fist in anger] FRECKLES! FRECKLES DUSTING HIS CHEEKS AND BODY! THEY EXIST THEY ARE THERE! I KNOW THEY ARE!

Tans easily during the summer. [Got that from his mother] His hat can only do so much.

Hear me out. I’d like to think that a piece of his ring finger is gone due to an incident with a beastman child when he was younger. And instead of being afraid of that event, that drove him to becoming more interested towards beastmen behaviors. So his ring finger is a constant reminder of his curiosity and that very incident.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Whew…ok now I can pass away peacefully. Thank you for listening to my mad man ramblings. Well, actually you had no choice in the matter since I hunted you down inside of your own house.-

But nevermind that! You’re free to go.☺️🫶

[crazyk-imagine]

Obsession lies Beneath

Pairing: Dark!Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!reader

Characters: Dark!Benedict Bridgerton, Fem!reader, Anthony Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton

Warnings: Slight dark fic content, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, Benedict gas lighting reader, special tea use, Benedict getting high, reader is innocent, reader not your average dark fic reader, near the end of season 2, reader can be oblivious

Word Count: 2,016

Requested by: @flowercrowns-goodvibes probably something along the lines of him being obsessed with reader and wanting her to marry him, and basically trapping her with no other choice because he knows she’s the only one for him. maybe through arranged or forced marriage or kidnapping

A/N: This is my first dark fic so if it's kind of off or not a normal dark fic, yk why

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After taking the drug infused tea, he got addicted and couldn't do anything else to calm himself other than create terrible art and then came you.

He had no idea what to do then, it felt like there was nothing he could do but then there you were, and he was hooked (in more ways than one).

It was the latest season for young, eligible ladies to do their best at finding a man to call husband and, from his dear sister, he hears you have no one to call your own.

Although it may be troubling for your family, it does leave room for happiness within him, in his hazy mind.

There’s no one eligible enough to marry you, not when he plans on having you for himself (even if you don’t know it yet).

He closes his eyes, imagining you in more ways than one should. No one knows about this, the way he thinks of you.

How could they? They’d think he was insane and lock him up or banish him into his room with nothing to entertain him with.

Either way, a life without being able to see you is not a way he could live- survive even.

The first time he started thinking of you in a mature way, was an accident but once was enough for him to become addicted, a habit he can't break.

His brother couldn't have known what would become of him when he first offered the tea to him, it's not his fault.

Benedict doesn't remember how he got it since his brother was traveling but, as he sips his tea once more and it flows through his veins, he doesn't care.

His mind slows down the more he drinks and the more he drinks, the more he creates. He sets the cup down, staring at the page and sighs. He groans loudly to himself, "why isn't it, right?"

-

You follow Eloise, who happily drags you along with her.

After her minor falling out with Penelope, she didn't explain much about what happened nor did you ask, feeling it wasn’t your place to do so. She needed a friend and found- or re-found you.

You knew the family when you were little but moved away because your father had gotten a business proposal to work out of town and now that your family is settled and has gained a profitable fortune, you decided to come back to the one place you felt... at home.

Daphne, Eloise, and Anthony were the ones you spoke to the most during your youth, not speaking to the others as much and felt you could build a bond with them but didn't want to make them uncomfortable.

Benedict though, he noticed you; he always did. It became a habit over time, another thing he couldn't break, a nasty habit he knows some would say.

She enters with ease, not minding the noises coming from her brother, who disagrees with the sound of someone entering.

With the tea fully sated in his stomach, he stares at you for a little too long; not that you noticed.

You almost never do, not that he minded, it fills his obsession, and he enjoys the fact that you're a little too oblivious to his antics. You wander around the room and his skin feels like it's on fire.

Have you gotten more beautiful since the last time he saw you (two days ago).

You stand beside him and the scent of your perfume wafts through his nose, he closes his eyes, memorizing the scent to memory.

His eyes open, pupils dilating but no one notices as he offers a small smile. "Has something caught your eye?"

You turn your head to face him, a shy smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Sorry, I was curious about this one. You seem so," you pause and work on finding the right word. "Focused. I've always wanted to see an artist at work."

Could this be the sign he's been waiting for since you two grew into young adults? "Have you? Perhaps-"

"You've helped me enough, we're leaving now," Eloise pulls you alongside her. "We'll see you at dinner."

His chest heaves after he rolls his neck and turns to his left, reaching for his cup. This seems to be the only thing keeping him sated as he waits to see you again at dinner.

-

He enters and his eyes are on you, the seat beside you is open, giving him the opportunity to take it before anyone else can. His hands shake as he reaches for the utensils, freezing when your pinkies accidentally bump into one another.

He feels hot the longer he sits beside you. He makes small conversations when you initiate it but there's only so much, he can do without making him sound like a complete idiot.

God knows what would happen if he was to make a fool of himself in front of you, the person of his dreams.

His mind wanders and he's lost in thought with... you are laying on the couch beneath his window, showing just enough skin to make him lose his cool. He'd lean closer towards you and lean in, listening to every little noise that comes from you.

He would stare into your eyes until he's close enough to gather the courage and kiss your perfect lips. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to close his eyes at first, longing to see every twitch of your eyes, even though they're closed.

He'd study you every moment he could (and does). He owlishly blinks, finding you looking at him, a questioning look on your face. "I'm- I'm sorry?"

"Are you feeling alright?"

Oh, your caring nature, how his heart beats faster when it's directed at him. You're too kind to someone having such crude thoughts as he; fitting really.

He messes with the napkin in his lap. "I- I- I'm fine, believe me I am more than fine," he mutters the last part under his breath, not wanting you or anyone to overhear him share his thoughts.

-

He ponders the drawing, trying to figure out what's missing but can't and rips the page out of his sketchbook before crumpling it and tossing it across the room.

The ball of paper lands at your feet, you don't know what to do. "Is everything alright?" You ask.

His body tenses. "Are you spending the night?"

"Unexpectedly, the carriage broke, and repairs won't be able to start until tomorrow when there's more lighting." He nods, glancing down to find the cut on his hand from when- he discreetly wipes his hand before you can see it.

"Are you working on something else?" You step closer, inspecting it with intense interest, one Benedict could barely wrap his head around.

"Aren't I always?" He jokes.

You chuckle at the joke because it's true, lately he hasn't been able to focus, nor has he been able to continue with one project. "Are you drawing a model?" You tilt your head, trying to figure out the position you're seeing. "Is that- you draw nude models?"

He nods, "I do, it's one of the important ways an artist can capture the human body on paper." In his haze, he sees the way your eyes trail back to the page even as flustered as you are, you're human and seeing something like this, his art; it exhilarates him. "Would you want to be my model?"

Your head snaps over to him. "Me?" You stutter, "I don't- I don't think that'd be such a good idea. I'm not- I'm not the model type."

"Nonsense," he shakes his head. "You are the perfect model."

"I don't think this is an appropriate topic we should be discussing, Mr. Bridgerton-"

He grabs your wrist, preventing you from leaving. "It's a harmless conversation between adults, is it not?"

He takes in your figure, then your dress, and your hair; all of it, reminding him of a little lamb (one who's wandered into the wrong den). A little lamb away from its family, all alone and waiting for its hunter to snatch it up.

"I suppose but-"

"I mean, it's not as if you'd actually be willing to model for me. It's just a conversation about art." Said the lion to guide the prey into his trap, he thought to himself.

"That- that's true."

Are you truly thinking about offering to accept and be his model? Even when you know if someone were to find out, your reputation would be ruined?

"I want to do it."

"Do you?" A sly smile tugs at the corner of his lips. And the lion caught the lamb. "Why don't we start now?"

You hesitate, fiddling with the sides of your dress. "I don't know. I don't think now is the-"

"If we do it now, no one will know. Everyone in the house is asleep and if they aren't, they know better than to disturb me when I'm working."

"I," you gulp before nodding. "Okay."

Maybe he's right, now would be a more idle time to practice.

"Okay?"

You give him a reassuring look.

-

He turns, the chesire cat like smile never fading even as he adjusts you to the position, he knows will come out perfectly.

You're nervous, letting him see you this way, so exposed, your heart beats at a mile a minute. You don't know whether to let him continue or leave while your morals are (barely) intact.

He glances up; the charcoal dancing across the paper brings you out of your thoughts. "Can I move? My arm is hurting."

"Not yet."

"But-"

"I said, not yet!" He elevates his voice.

You gulp, not saying anything further, deciding it's best not to aggravate him further.

After a while and 2 candles later, a satisfied sigh escapes him.

Your shoulders feel lighter, knowing that he's happy with his latest creation.

"You," he starts off.

You open your eyes, turning your head to face him, seeing his proud expression.

"You are my best model, I- you are my new muse."

You start pushing yourself up.

The smile falls from his face, "what are you doing?"

You furrow your brows in confusion, "I'm getting up because we're done," you say even though it sounds more like a question the longer you stare at him and take it his expression.

"We have more to do," he sets his sketch book onto the table beside him. "You are the inspiration I have been looking for. You are the reason I will thrive in school, even if my brother paid for my seat."

He kneels beside you, "we will be well-known because of your beauty," he brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "And my skills." He switches between looking into one eye and then the other. "But I can see tonight was a lot, you're tired and should get some sleep."

You don't say another word as you sit up, holding the blanket close to you.

-

He helps you with your corset, making you feel as though you did something wrong.

You shouldn't have done this.

He wraps his arms around your waist. "Get some rest, we'll get a head start tomorrow."

"I- I don't-"

"Don't tell me no, please. I can't do this without you," he spins you around to face him. "I wouldn’t survive without your help. You are the reason I can create again. Please don't leave me alone."

How can you say no when he stares at you like that?

You can't tell him no and then come to the house and pretend as if you didn't do this, pretend as if everything is okay.

"What if someone found out about you modeling for me tonight? What would happen to your family?"

You furrow your brows, suddenly your thoughts spiral back to the beginning of tonight and it's something you shouldn't have agreed to but it's too late to back out; you're too involved and he's the only one who can save you.

You no longer feel at home.

-

Tag list

@readingwithsass

[everythingne]

akin to a pride, mv1

[series, 1] - 'the lions come at night'

Reina 'Little Lion' Matsumoto is known for her reckless driving on the track, earning her the nickname she partly shares with a certain 3x WDC. Off the track, however, she's known for being bubbly, bright, and kind. When she's reached out to by F1 about joining their new 'Siblings Mentorship,' a program that will pair her with a 'similar F1 driver' as her mentor for the upcoming season, she fully expects Daniel or Lando.

Her surprise comes in the form of Max Verstappen, and though she thinks they won't be that much alike off track, she's quick to find it's quite the opposite. Reina learns she needs someone who understands what shes going through to lean on, and Max learns that sometimes healing comes in breaking a cycle that's not your own.

(multipart series, non-linear in writing)

warnings/notes: mentioned/implied abusive father, father being manipulative and nasty via phone call, [word] used to show other languages being spoken, probably inaccurate/purposefully inaccurate f2/f1 information but its for the plot, also purposefully incorrect NASCAR information (RBR having a currently running NASCAR team being part of it), and probably incorrect Japanese culture (please correct me, I'm not Japanese myself!!), 5k words.

face claim: nina hillman

MAX HAD ALWAYS ENJOYED MEETING YOUNG FANS. Especially the ones who were karting or just getting into motorsports, there was something strong and pure in their hearts--a full love for what they were doing that was so refreshing to him. The media could wear him down day after day, racing every few weekends and changing time zones over and over making him a bit of a husk. He and the people he worked around were always so drained and tired, but one meeting with a young fan, listen to their proud "I'll be just like you when I grow up" and a big grin as they snapped a photo with him would always set him right.

Victoria had called him soft but he didn't care. He was the go-to babysitter of her two sons for a reason, the so called 'baby whisperer' by her husband and the beloved Uncle Max who they cheered on every other weekend on TV. When Victoria's eldest had an F1 themed birthday party with his class, Max had shown up with some of his gear in his car just in case, and ended up being the life of the party as he let each kid try on some of his old helmets and gloves and such.

Max loved the few and far between meetings he had with kids because they always seemed to come to him at the perfect times. Like the day Christian asked him if he wanted to do a program a few other drivers were a doing. It was a season long 'older siblings' mentorship for teens in the F3 or F2 leagues so they could get insight into what being an F1 driver was like and how it differed from what they were doing now. It had been mentioned off hand, with Christian expecting Max to say no and that he 'didnt want to do that media stuff', but imagine Christian's surprise when the man instantly said yes. He said it with no hesitation, a small smile peeking on his lips as he asked who he'd be helping.

"Reina Matsumoto." Christian had said and Max's eyes widened with a mix of excitement and genuine happiness as a grin peeked at his lips as he looked through Reina's social medias. It was a face Christian hadn't seen much, typically reserved for Penelope or Victoria's boys.

"Oh, wait until I tell Kelly!" He'd laughed, following the driver and shutting off his phone as he'd crosses his arms and smiled.

Geri had laughed with her whole heart when Christian told the story to her that night, watching as she attempted to pack three school lunches, do the dishes, and clean up while he was making his way over to help her. He dropped his bag on the floor by the island, hands coming up to her back as he slipped behind her and into the kitchen.

"He's got a big heart," Geri said gently with a grin on her lips, pausing mid sandwich packing to press a kiss to her husband's cheek. Her nails scratched slightly as she pat his shoulder as she handed him the dishes she needed put away, "and look at him and little Penelope! He's practically her father."

"This is a teenager though." Christian emphasized as he opened the cabinet with one hand, the other balancing a stack of plates from dinner--porkchops, he'd missed it due to being in the office for the exact thing they're talking about.

He sets down the dishes in their respective spots and shuts the cabinet as he turns back to Geri, "She's seventeen, she’s Bluebell's age.”

"First of all," Geri zips closed the remaining lunch bags for the kids and turns to Christian as she points at him, "Teenager or not, Max knows how to deal with kids. We've seen that."

Geri then flicks her wrist to show a peace sign she points at Christian once more, "and second, she's from Formula Two and she? Is it Matsumoto?"

"Yep. The Reina Matsumoto, Miss Little Lion," Christian nods, the girls nickname being given due to her driving style being very similar to Max's when he was her age. Controlled chaos, slightly reckless depending on the day, but she almost always left unscathed.

"Her dad was one of Japan's top Tour Racing drivers," Christian explains as he moves to help Geri finishing wiping off the counters, "Her mom raced drift cars in the states, works in NASCAR now. Reina used to live with her dad in Japan. She just moved to England to continue pursuing racing."

"So she has two motorsports parents... how much pressure is on her?" Geri crosses her arms as she leans back on the kitchen island and Christian lets out a low whistle as he rubs his forehead.

"I don't know, they don't exactly brief me on her entire past, Ger. But from what I was able to dig up on her father? It's not good."

"Do you think they teamed her with Max because of how they were both raised?" Geri pushes off the counter to open the fridge and waves over Christian to help her stuff the lunch boxes inside with all the leftovers and other foodstuffs stacked in the fridge,

"I don't know. But looking at the words 'Project Matsumoto' as the third term when I looked up her name; and having it be an article where her dad says he pushes her to be her best 'no matter what he has to do to make her'? I can't imagine it's anything good."

Geri sighs, rolling her neck and then nodding, "But how's her mother?"

"Oh, Hana is a sweetheart. She owned the NASCAR side of Red Bull Racing until about... two years ago, when she took full custody of her daughter. Now she does engineering, she has nothing but good articles about her."

"So, dad who forces her to be the best in every race she does, and a mom who was in racing but doesn't seem to push her too hard. Parents divorced, she lived with her father, now she lives with her mother." Geri recounts and when Christian nods sharply she starts to laugh and rub at her forehead.

"So... literally Max?" She says and Christian just nods again. There's no other way to explain it, she was simply a younger version of Max. But maybe there was a chance here, to save some of the love for the world she had left, because while Max was a genuine sweetheart he was always a bit haunted in Geri's eyes.

If she could save Reina from looking the same way, that would be her own personal WDC.

reinamatsumoto made a new post !

liked by biancabustamente, lilymhe, premaracing, and 15k others...

reinamatsumoto: winter break recap. whew. what a time. from my dad's place in fukushima to my grandparents home in washington state, to buying an apartment by myself in london :D!! (with my mom living there until I know how to adult because lord knows I can't be trusted by myself yet..)

also, big news! I am excited to announce ill be joining in the f2 to f1 mentorship program! I cannot wait to see which f1 driver I get to annoy with my useless knowledge of everything (and katsu…)

tagged: mrshanatanaka

mrshanatanaka: [my beautiful daughter] xx

user1: so pretty!!

biancabustamente: so i need your whole workout routine

⤷ reinamatsumoto: when are you back in london ?? I can take u to my trainers .. 👀

premaracing: so happy to have you back reina!

Dear Reina Matsumoto,

I READ MY NAME FOR THE THIRD TIME, fingers dusting over the slight texture change from the ink on the white paper that slightly creases in my hand. René had handed it to me at Prema last weekend before I went home for Christmas. Inside was a little invitation from Formula One. I had assumed, and kinda prayed, it was some sort of contract for any team (my fingers had crossed briefly for Red Bull) but was also a bit more delighted to see it was an invitation to their 'siblings' mentorship program. I took my time reading the letter, glossing over the words asking if I would be fine being trained by a handpicked Formula One driver who matched my driving style and my personality...I was elated.

I didn't know many drivers who matched both, maybe like Lando as the closest, or if we pushed it a bit maybe Daniel but his driving was more reserved than mine. I had explained to my mother, and she had joked saying my closest match would be Max. But I doubted they'd put him with me. I doubted he'd even said yes to the whole thing, everyone knew Max hated media stunts that didn't involve him driving some weird ass vehicle or like, putting snow chains on an F1 car.

I roll over to slide the note back on my bedside table, sighing as I curl deeper into my blankets to try and fight off the chill I still felt after my afternoon run in the light snow. Probably my last exterior run of the year, I was lucky to get one so close to the end of December.

The heater fan is on high blast next to my bed, rolling warm air across my chest as I look out the window and into the setting sun on the snow tipped trees of Washington State. My mom had worked hard to get us here, to her parents home up in a coastal town, where I can faintly smell some sort of curry dish being prepared by my grandmothers nimble hands. My grandfather a fisherman, my grandmother a school treasurer, my mother a business owner and engineer, her only daughter an aspiring Formula One driver.

Quite a group.

My attempt at warmth is abruptly ended by my mother knocking on my door, waiting only a brief moment before entering. She's dressed from work, I can tell it was some sort of zoom meeting by the slippers she has on. Her hair is pulled back, makeup light on her face as the warm golden rays slip through into my room from the hallway.

"You got mail, Rei, did you not see it on the counter?" My mother asks with a slight huff, sitting on the edge of my bed and cranking up my heater with a complaint about how its still too cold in my little room. It was supposed to be an office, but when I visited my grandparents and moms side of the family (since my aunt and cousins lived with them here in the states) it became my room so I didn't have to share with toddlers.

"Jiji was cooking, didn't wanna disturb her." I say softly, looking over at my mother and noticing the giddy expression on her face. Her eyes are sparkling as her nails crease the edges of the letter.

"What?" I ask, looking up at her through the thick fuzzy blankets that cover me and basically cement me down to the bed with their weight. Another wonderful thing about my grandparents, they were always prepared.

"It's from Oracle Red Bull Racing." my mother emphasizes each word with a huge smile that only seems to grow. My mother had raced for Red Bull back when she was a bit older than me, and owned their NASCAR team for years, which she now was an engineer for. I think her excitement bleeds onto me as I throw myself up into a seated position and snag the unopened letter. I take it and nearly tear the damn thing open, my mom laughing as I hand her the envelope and flip the letter open to read aloud.

"Miss Matsumoto/Matsumoto-san," I say and then whistle, "Someone did their homework."

My mom laughs and urges me to keep reading, and so, I take a deep breath and read the words that seem so powerful even with their tiny ten or so pixel statue.

"We at Oracle Red Bull Racing wish you well this holiday season, and it's an honor for me, Christian Horner, to welcome you to the family as the younger sister/mentee of three time world champion, Max Verstappen!--"

My mom squeals in excitement at the same time I do. The usually reserved side of her gone as she leaps off my bed and jumps around as I kick my legs in excitement. Seconds later I'm falling back as my mom is crashing into me in a bone crushing hug as she laughs with watery eyes I ignore for both of our sakes.

"Oh! Oh my god, that's so exciting!" She shouts.

"[Is everything okay?]" I hear my grandfather rough voice call from the base of the stairs in Japanese and my mother lifts her head away from my ear to shout through the doorway,

"[Yes, yes, everything is fine!]" My mother laughs once more, "[Just some very good news,] keep reading Rei, keep reading!"

"Okay, okay!" I laugh, grabbing the letter and continuing down the page, trying to keep myself from skipping ahead in excitement.

"We are very excited to get to know you over this season, and look forward to meeting you in person for the first time soon! In fact, we have extended an invitation for you to meet Max and the rest of RBR at our home base in Milton Keynes on January 5th-10th. We will provide you and one guest a flight over if needed, room and board at The Berkeley in London as well as transportation to and from our garage.

We eagerly await your response. Thank you and welcome!

Christian Horner."

But the letter doesn't stop there, in fact, there's a little hand written note that's been scanned to fit on the paper and I squint to read the scratchy handwriting.

'Reina,

Hello! It's Max, your 'big brother' or mentor for this upcoming season. As you may know, I'll be your right hand this season when it comes to advice with driving and media, but I wanted to extend an invitation for you to ask/talk about any of your interests or just life in general. I genuinely cannot wait to get to see how we get along (as I'm sure we will) and I hope you have a wonderful holidays with your family.

See you in January!

Max Verstappen.

(ps. I wrote my phone number on the back of this, feel free to send me a text/call and introduce yourself!)'

The exciting news brings my family to tears of joy as we celebrate with loud laughter and tight hugs. Max Verstappen. A three time world champion helping me of all people learn the real ins and outs of racing? It’s like a dream come true.

And even though I know it should be the absolute last thing I ever could even think about asking, he’d been raised similar to myself. I needed to know how he handled it, or the lack thereof.

redbullracing made a new post !

liked by gerihalliwell, reinamatsumoto, misshanatanaka and 674k others..

redbullracing: Introducing the final set of mentorship siblings for this season! Our @ maxverstappen will be mentoring @ premaracing 's @ reinamatsumoto for the upcoming season. Reina is known across Formula 2 for her bubbly bright personality and colorful disposition. Join us on TikTok Live, January 5th at 6pm BST to see them in action!

user1: sunshine x grumpy trope frfr

misshanatanaka: so excited for my little lion cub !

user2: they definetely picked her for her little lion nickname and yk what. respect.

reinamatsumoto: this is such an incredible opportunity, thank you so much red bull!!!

danielricciardo: soon we will have a whole god damn lion pride in RBR.

user3: unlikely duo actually?

logansargeant: and they wouldnt give ME reina???

⤷ maxverstappen: another L for logan sargeant

⤷ logansargeant: i'm gonna take your damn knees old man

⤷ reinamatsumoto: its ok logan i will never forget my first (and favorite) f2 teammate 💙

WALKING INTO RED BULL'S HEADQUARTERS WAS LIKE A DREAM. My mom chats with the woman whose brought us in eagerly, and excitedly points to a photo of her on the wall from the early 2000s. I'm shocked to see Christian Horner's in the photo as well. Reading the little plaque under makes it all click, it's a photo of all the 'team principles' or their equivalents of each Red Bull Sporting branch at the time.

My fingers skim over the names, EHC Red Bull München, FC Red Bull Salzburg, Hansen Motorsport, JMB Racing, and eventually I find my moms name, 'Hana Matsumoto (neé, Tanaka) Team Leader: Red Bull Racing (NASCAR).'

"Ah! Glad you both could make it!" A voice calls and I snap my head to its source, making his way across the big expanse of the lobby is Christian Horner, Geri following close behind her husband with a glittery smile. My mother shakes his hand and the two begin conversing, immediately snapping back into some sort of old pals situation while I step back to admire it.

My mother, after my father abandoned us when I was twelve, refused to touch racing for years, except for when it came to me and my karting. When I advanced to rally, she got back into working for NASCAR as an engineer, and then when I was going into Formula Four she had become a head engineer for Red Bull's NASCAR team.

I had never had an opportunity to work for Red Bull myself, narrowly missing making their junior team due to my dad's interference. I had hated Red Bull due to my fathers influence, but once or twice I caught my mother reminiscing over old images of her in her glory days of drift cars and owning a NASCAR team, and it made me wonder...

I wondered about wearing navy blue, standing on a podium, racing a car that would rocket itself around a track with no issue. And then slowly my mind would shift and I would wonder what else my father had stolen from her other than money and her daughter for years. A stolen daughter for some sort of prize he could never get for himself. A Formula One racer. Something I could be, something he would beat into me.

"And you must be Reina." Geri's voice catches me off guard and pulls me out of whatever pouty moment I've found myself in. The smile on my face is real as I allow her to pull me into a tight hug, her warm hands settling on my back as she squeezes me. It's safety in two arms, immediately, and I relax into it as I place one hand on the center of her back.

"Geri Horner, it's such an honor to finally meet my favorite Spice Girl." I say into the hug and Geri laughs, stepping back to squeeze me shoulders in her hands as she looks me over with an approving grin.

"Good to know you have taste!" She teases, turning to my mother who nods and laughs as she makes her way over to where Geri has come to distract me. Christian grabs his phone out of his pocket, glancing behind him, but I miss what he calls out as my Mom starts to speak to Geri.

"Yep! God, we have so much Spice Girls stuff in our house in Washington you'd think it was a museum." My mother giggles, patting my back as she sends me a small grin, "I think you even have a replica of the union jack dress."

"It's in Fukushima, so who knows if it's still there." I hum, my smile dropping for half a second as I remember the cold home I had lived in for years, before I force it back up, "But I bet I can find photos of it!"

"Would love to see them." Geri places a hand on her heart, then turns to Christian as he approaches us. He brings us to a small room, two chairs facing a few cameras, interns and workers milling around the room as I'm instructed to sit down in one of the chairs. I sit down as told, crossing my ankles as my mom frets with my collar and sweater for a few moments, then presses a kiss to my forehead and tells me to be kind before slipping behind the lights that shine on me.

"Alright, we're gonna have you introduce yourself..." A woman starts to explain the protocols to me. The stream is running right now, people can see me, but the audio is muted. On her signal, I'll introduce myself, and then they'll start a QnA with me while they wait for Max to arrive. I nod along, smiling when she compliments me and laughing at her jokes with practiced kindness. I wasn't media trained, but rather trained by walking on eggshells and keeping peace for years.

Eventually, I'm cued in, and I wave happily.

"Hello!" I cheer, "I'm Reina Matsumoto, known as Rei or Little Lion, this is my third year racing for Prema in Formula Two. I finished my first season with them in second, right behind Oscar Piastri, my second season I unfortunately didn't complete due to personal issues and an injury, and so I'm looking to use this season as a comeback to finally get my hands on an F2 win.

"I'm going to be mentored by Max Verstappen, which is... just really incredible." I feel heat rush to my cheeks and I let a giddy smile cross my face, "So yeah! Let's get on with the QnA?"

A man steps up so I can see him, and holds up a phone, he scrolls before landing on a question he likes,

"Can you explain your racing journey to us?"

"Oh! Yeah! So I started karting in Japan with my father when I was barely three, and started competing on my fifth birthday. I kept karting, I won, I lost, y'know, and got into rally racing for a few years when I was around ten to fourteen, then I went into Formula Four when I was fifteen, did half a season of F3, and then jumped to compete in Formula Two the last three years." I explain, having to pause a few times to think and make sure I'm getting my age right. Trying my best to keep my voice happy as I recount the time spent with my father, "Around the time I switched to Formula racing, I also moved in with my Mom, Hana Tanaka, in the United States and lived partially in England."

"Do you race for Japan or for the States?"

"I'm racing for Japan since I'm technically a citizen of Japan living on a work visa in the UK. I lived in Japan for years, my mother traveling back to the states a lot for work, and--uhm," I swallowed, glancing down at my left wrist briefly as my hand twitched and my pinkie struggled to close up in the fist I balled up, "I lived with my father there when my parents divorced, from when I was nine to thirteen."

"Do you have a favorite F1 driver who is racing right now?"

"If I say anyone other than Logan or Oscar they'll be very upset." I grin, kicking my feet a little, "They're basically my older brothers! They took me in when I started racing F2, since we all raced together, and I'm really proud of both of them and all their hard work."

After maybe ten or so more questions, the man leans back as someone whispers something to him and he nods, there's a bit of a shuffle and then I see a door open. I know it's Max who walks in even if I can only see his shadow behind the lights. I try to hide my giddy smile as the same woman from before steps in front of me and begins to announce Max and I are meeting for the first time. I take a deep breath, swallow my nerves, and plaster on the most professional smile I can muster. Max is much taller than I am, that much is obvious when he dips under a light to come in front of the camera and I stand immediately to greet him. I expect him to go for a handshake, but I'm pleasantly surprised with a hug. We take our respective seats, Max gives his little introduction to the camera, and then we're off.

"So this is a drawing challenge." We're both handed whiteboards and I grin, looking at Max who laughs and looks down at the whiteboard being set in his hands. I can see a little playful gleam in his eyes, something I've never caught before in the hundreds of photos and videos I've seen of him. It's intriguing but I don't have time to stare, and this is hardly the place to do so.

"You guys are about to be amazed at how much someone can suck at art." He says, uncapping his pen.

"You both have to try and draw each other in three minutes," She says, "and then there will be a poll on who won."

The timer goes off then and I prop the whiteboard up and begin drawing. I had doodled as a hobby, so I make it less realistic (because lord knows I can't do that) and make it more cutesy. I giggle at my drawing as I add a little flare to it and when times up, we flip them around. The crew audibly awes over mine and Max laughs, tilting it so he can see it past the glare of the lights.

"Oh my god, I need someone to save this so I can have it. This is genuinely the cutest thing anyone has ever drawn for me." He looks at it in awe and I laugh into the back of my hand as he takes the whiteboard from me and just looks at it.

"Proud dad moment," I grin, trying to hide my obvious giddy attitude at the fact that Max fucking Verstappen was praising my shitty art skills. He nods, holding it up and telling everyone to look, which only makes me blush and grin harder.

We move on from that a few moments later, we're asked to draw each others cars, then we play a few rounds of pictionary where Max fails horribly the whole time. By the end of it, I'm laughing teary eyed as I lean onto his chair for support--and he's pretty much in the same boat as me as we both struggle to catch our breaths.

"How the hell is this a cat?!" I wheeze out, pointing at the oddly long cat he's drawn with a much too big head and much too small legs, "don't you have two? Do you not know what they look like?!"

"I can't draw! It's the thing I can't do!" He leans back in his chair, struggling to catch his breath and I have to pause to dot under my eyes so my makeup doesn't run. After a while we catch our breath, and move into QnA.

Max asks me, from a Twitter tag we both idly scroll on our phones, "What are some of your favorites? Racers, colors, TV Shows, etc?"

I look up as he asks the question and a big grin splits across my lips as I proudly announce, "When it comes to F1, I'm one hundred percent a Vettel girl,"

"Really?" He says, and I start laughing as I nod to him, adjusting the way I'm sitting as I lean on the arm of the chair a bit and wave my phone as I speak,

"I grew up watching him and Lewis Hamilton winning, y'know, so it was always like--my dad would always reprimand me and say stuff like 'you should race risky like Hamilton' or 'go fast like Vettel' so they're kinda cemented into my brain as the like--top drivers."

"My dad was the same with some older drivers, always had to practice like I was the best of the best." Max nods, but waves for me to continue on with answering the ret of the question,

"NASCAR is huge in my family, my mom works for Red Bull's NASCAR team," I explain, looking to where I think my mom stands behind the camera, "So my favorite driver from there? I'd say Jimmie Johnson or Kyle Busch. I've met them both quite a few times, since they both raced with Red Bull, and Kyle is one of my sponsors for racing right now which is so kind of him to do."

I continue when Max doesn't have a comment, "Favorite color, blue." He agrees, "TV Shows..? Right now I'm binging Doctor Who--I'm on Matt Smith's doctor right now."

"Oh, which episode?"

"Uhm... I just finished The Almost People. So I think next is A Good Man Goes to War?" I turn and watch Max's face light up as he makes a soft gasping noise in the back of his throat.

"Oh you have to tell me how you like that episode. It's so good."

My eyes widen, "You've seen Doctor Who?"

"Kelly watches it all the time. When I started watching them with her she made us restart at The Ninth Doctor and watch from there, and then we went back and watched all the older episodes but her favorite is The Ninth Doctor so she made me start there. I think my favorite is him or The War Doctor."

"My favorite so far is the eleventh." I smile, kicking my feet a little once again and Max nods.

"A solid choice."

We run through another twenty minutes or so before signing off, and the energy in the room is light and almost electric as we begin to pack up. A phone call ends up with me slipping out into the hall as everyone mingles, my mom loudly laughing with Kelly and Geri as Christian brings Max over to introduce to my mother. I catch Max's eye fleetingly as I whisk around and slip out into the much quieter hall, pressing my phone to my ear.

"[Hello, Dad.]" I say into the phone, the ten missed calls from him already enough to make my blood icy and my hands shaken.

"[Why weren't you answering me? Am I not important?]" His voice is hard as it always is when he thinks I've wronged him. It makes my heart pound a little bit harder, makes me swallow, makes my hands twitch.

"[I was doing work with Red Bull, Dad. I wasn't with my phone, I'm sorry.]" I say into the phone, crossing one arm over my chest as I look out into the little track behind the building from the windows, walking up to lean against a pole that separates the panes of glass.

"[Oh, about that, you didn't want to tell me? Hm? That you even thought of signing up for that? You're going to waste the talent of a three time world champion on yourself? On the lack of talent you have? You couldn't even beat that Australian boy, now you expect Max Verstappen to want to help you?]" My fathers voice grows harsher, the insults digging deep into my chest and ripping at my confidence and my heart. I hear the door next to me open, but I can't even spare a glance as my fathers hateful tirade continues. I lose track of what he's saying, his voice louder, and when I don't respond he claims I'm 'losing my heritage' and switches to English to mock me. I feel someone behind me, eyes glancing up in the reflection to see Max leaning on the wall on the other side of the hallway.

"[Dad--]" I try, but he cuts me off with more ramblings.

"A waste of talent, a waste of that mans time!" He shouts, "You are nothing but--"

A hand comes to grab the phone, a thumb thats not mine pressing to end the call. I flinch at the touch, but it's warm, and when I look up Max just watches me before slipping my phone back into my hand and sighing. Nothing is said, he just turns and nods over his shoulder. Max moves like a ghost back to the doorway, eyes peeking over at me from under his hat and his voice carries down the hall to me.

"You're not wasting my time. I picked you."

And then he slips into the room where I can hear my mother replaying some story of my early racing days to someone, and I blink back the tears that well up with my shaky sigh. Then something hits me, eyes widening as I stare after Max's retreated form.

Max had picked me to be his mentee.

He picked me. Me.

And a giddy smile crosses my face before I can try and suppress it.

formulaupdates made a new post!

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formulaupdates: Reina Matusmoto (Prema, f2) joined Max Verstappen (Red Bull, F1) to welcome their 'siblingship' this season during a livestream on Red Bull's TikTok wearing the teams signature color in a vintage Ralph Lauren sweater! (+ a scanned version her drawing of Max for everyones icon needs)

tagged: reinamatsumoto, ralphlauren, premaracing, redbullracing, maxverstappen

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[hyperfixingfr]

It bothers me the way people, especially in this fandom, will "simp" for villains who are clearly mirroring real life bigotry and hate (misogyny, racism, homophobia, child abuse, etc). I get going head over heels for a villain who is evil in a way that feels very cartoony and silly (ex; Stickybeard, Toiletinator, Knightbrace, Spankulot, so on) because, well, they aren't exactly hateful... Nor does their impact hurt anyone truly. But if you look at Father, after seeing him abuse children, kidnap them, brainwash them, force them into racist and misogynistic/sexist conformities, and imply that he has MURDERED people, and you say "he's hot" you're... Kind of weird. Him and Mr. Boss are probably the only two who I'd argue shouldn't be simped for yet I see it all the time.

Before I get attacked, let me back up WHY this is weird. To start, I am an abuse victim. I have seen with my very own eyes as "friends" would disregard what my abusers did to me and call them "attractive", knowing everything they had done. This phenomenon I described with Father as an example? It exists in real life. And it happens FREQUENTLY. You can find numerous cases of real life crimes being disregarded and failing to bring justice to victims simply because the perpetrator was good looking. By doing this with fictional characters, you are reinforcing to people who do it with real abusers and bigots that they're not doing anything wrong by disregarding their actions with physical looks. It's the same reason you should hate proshipping. It's not cool to simp for characters who are genuinely terrible people, and it's especially not cool to try and pretend they aren't shitty just so you can like them. It's gross, especially to abuse victims or victims of bigotry. If you try to say, "well I can tell the difference from real life/fiction" or "I don't like REAL abusers" this is a talking point of proshipping. The "fiction" excuse. There's a huge difference between getting the hots for something that is a complete figment of the human imagination and has no true real life problem parallels (aka... Toilet themed villain) and getting the hots for something that can, does, and will unfortunately happen more with frequency in real life OR parallels the real life issue (Father being abusive and bigoted for example). The fact that it's a fictional character doesn't stop the very realistic aspects of gross behavior from being there, and by "simping" for them just because they're fictional, you're sending a really nasty message to abuse victims. I should also reiterate that your content of simping for a shitty character can and will be used as justification for someone who does the same to real life abusers. Fiction affects reality, I promise. If fiction didn't affect reality, people wouldn't be so determined to see representation of minorities in media. If fiction didn't affect reality, sharks wouldn't be overhunted and endangered in the real world simply because of a work of fiction. If fiction didn't affect reality, cats wouldn't be having emergency vet visits after consuming milk due to the fictional concept of adult cats drinking primarily milk. Please be careful about this stuff.

PS; I am NOT saying you can't personally find his looks attractive. You can say he's hot. But like... Don't "simp" for him.

[igglemouse]

Alana laughs with a knowing smile on her lips. "No, your father didn't believe it, Miss Matlock. Your father KNEW it to be true. Why do you think the Realm hunted him down and killed him?"

"Because..." I start, but do I know for sure? I don't know. That's the truth. There are two sides to every story and no matter what I've been told I do know that my parents loved me. That counts for something, doesn't it? So instead of answering I change the subject. "And my mother-"

"Came from one of those realms," Alana smoothly cuts in like a lawyer ready for the question. "A parallel universe, one where power is freely accessed and used. Your mother was a blood witch, nasty business to be sure, especially considering her rare 'half-vampire' state, but it was with her power and ability that Spellcasters have cast down the great vampire. Vlad, gone. Mr. Chevalier, gone. The Vatore's? Missing. All thanks to your mother's knowledge of blood magic, although, I must say, she was always a friend to those leeches, Mr. Chevalier especially-"

"Well..." I almost revealed that Mr. Chevalier might not actually be dead at all. I'm not sure why but I imagine this would put my vampire associate in some trouble? I'm starting to wonder if they are as bad as others tell me. I'm starting to question many things. "W-what is all this for?"

"This?" she says, a wicked smile on her lips as the chanting from my friend and two strangers continue. "This is all for you, Miss Matlock. For you and Valerie Van Vilet, whose parents were great friends of your own. For you and Kyla Britt," she says motioning to the woman with short brown hair. "Who was some random girl with potential who was not allowed into the realm because of their silly rules. For you and M. Nobusawa," again she motions, but this time to the noted ivory skin and pink hair that was the curse of her magic. "Who went through the trails of the seer, lost her name and identity, only to be kicked out of the realm as well. This is for all of us who are misunderstood."

"And where do I fit in?" I stare at her, my head swirling with mixed emotions and thoughts. "Why is this for me? I'm useless, I have no power. I can barely make sparkles."

Gracelyn Matlock ~ Next Post

[trashogram]

frrr its just like bro cmon do something different. I like it when shows explore parental issues and stuff but it just feels overused at this point. and yeah charlie and via’s are def not explored at all.

for charlie, i mean i kinda get it but not really? theres been like foreshadowing of how they were “pulled apart” and its not j like lucifer idk leaving for no reason, but still one lil father daughter duet doesnt erase that yk? and (theory) if lillith or some external thing pried them apart why didnt lucifer just say that to charlie instead of pulling up and being like “lol sorry. caviar mountain anyone?”. i hope we focus on that next season and more of like morningstar family lore instead of backstory stuff. Alastors cool but damn i actually dont want him to be the main focus. sometimes i forget charlie’s the like “main” character of the show.

AND OCTAVIA OMGGG BROOO. WE PHYSICALLY SEE STOLAS BEING SHITTY AND NOBODY FOCUSES ON IT 😭 LIKE HUH?!!??? BRO TALKED ABOUT HIS NASTY SEX LIFE W BLITZO IN FRONT OF HER THATS DISGUSTING OMG. stolas is literally just like- omg bro get ur head out of the gutter. stop focusing on urself for like 5 seconds pls and pay attention to your poor child. he hasnt even like tried to talk to her or anything like imagine ur dad cheats on ur mom and then ghosts u for his boyfriend that he also treats like shit. justice for octavia

Yes, using daddy issues as traumatic backstory for multiple characters is not great. I agree with you. But the thing that really takes the cake for me is one thing in particular. And I wanna say for the record that this is my personal opinion so keep that in mind.

As far as using Daddy Issues as a major theme in Hazbin Hotel —They dropped the ball so fucking hard with Charlie and Lucifer. One of the reason the pilot for Hazbin caught my attention was because it looked like the daughter of the Devil was going to be this optimist that wanted to help people rather than hurt and scare them for all eternity. And in turn, Lucifer (and Lilith) would be disappointed in his only child for turning out that way because Lucifer would be more akin to how he’s normally portrayed (evil).

I was so on board to root for Charlie. And I was excited for the possibility of Lucifer, after practically disowning his daughter for not meeting his expectations, realizing that Charlie is his own reflection: a rebel adamant on changing the status quo.

Y’all know I love Hazbin’s Lucifer. He’s my poor little meow meow. But damn it, we could’ve had something really beautiful!

…Yeah.

And oh god. Honey I could write a 10 page paper on Stolas’s neglect of Octavia and how mistreated she is not only by him but by her own creators and the fandom for Helluva Boss. It’s wild. It’s mystifying. It makes me grip the bars of my cage as I wait for the day when a lot of these younger fans get older and realize how messed up the whole thing is.

[mcheang]

I have a prompt idea! So a rich kid transfers into DuPont who is the son of the prime minister or something. He can be bratty like Chloe and deceitful like Lila. The first thing he does is put Chloe in her place since her dad can’t do anything to him and exposes Lila as the liar she is with the help from his connections.But here’s the kicker, he has a massive crush on Marinette. But she has a massive crush on Adrien, someone he looks down on. Cue jealousy and retribution. Basically Adrien gaining an antagonist of his own because if he can have FOUR girls getting into a cat fight of her (two of whom are nasty bullies) then Marinette can have her own evil love interest. Bonus points if he is beginning to endear to Marinette after standing up to her bullies.

Remy Gusteau

Can you guess where I got his name? But I imagine him to look like Draco Malfoy if he has to keep saying “My father….” Lol

Your prompt is the first in a long while that has given my that old flair of imagination :D Thank you. Also, for anyone else who wants to send me a prompt, note I have not watched the latest season yet as I am waiting for all episodes to air first. So no spoilers please.

The only reason Remy even agreed to go to Paris after the rise of Hawkmoth was because it was the capital of gastronomy.

Even so, he refused to stay as a guest at the Le Grand Paris. There is no way he is staying in the same hotel as that bully Chloe. Honestly why Ladybug even let her remain a hero after she purposefully endangered a train full of Parisians is beyond him. And ever since he saw her purposefully sabotage a cooking show, he has been asking his father why her father was even still mayor if he could not even raise his daughter properly.

Even so, the mayor personally welcomed Remy at the airport.

Mayor: my daughter attends Dupont too, she can be your tour guide.

Remy: I certainly hope she learned to improve her personality. It doesn’t look good on France if the mayor of our capital has a bully for a daughter.

The mayor paled at the threat. “Of course she has improved. Why else would Ladybug give her a miraculous again?”

Remy: I guess we’ll see.

Later that night, Andre begged his daughter to be on her best behavior because otherwise, it might cost him his job.

Naturally Chloe was appalled. She started to protest when even her mother agreed with Andre. “It would never do for my darling to lose his job. All Chloe has to do is act nice in front of the prime minister’s boy, right? That’s easy to do. Chloe, if you can’t handle even this much, ask your sister for advice.”

The next day Chloe went out of her way to greet Remy and did not even give Sabrina orders…only to be ignored by Remy.

Ugh. Who did he think he is?

Sabrina: Um, the prime minister’s son?

The only seat left available was next to Ivan, right in front of Lila.

As Caline told Remy that Marinette would be his tour guide, Lila volunteered instead.

Lila: Oh, I can do it. As the ambassador’s daughter, I’m sure Marinette would has a lot to do anyway.

Marinette scowled at Lila. And she wasn’t the only one.

Remy himself was not happy. He recognised Marinette because of her parents and uncle. He had actually been looking forward to discuss recipes with her. Why did that nobody have to butt in?

Well that nobody was Lila, and clearly she never heard of personal space. For someone supposed to be giving a tour of the classrooms and teachers, she sure talked a lot about herself instead.

Don’t tell him that everybody actually indulged her like this?

Later that day, after class ended, he asked Caline why she does not try reining in Lila’s tall tales.

Caline: Lila has a special disease. She didn’t want her classmates to see her differently because of it.

Remy stared cooly at this dumb woman. “Hmm. Do you know something, I’ve heard the other students tell me I was in the akuma class. I thought perhaps it might be due to Chloe but perhaps you have something to do with it too. I wonder if I should ask my father to bring an inspector here.”

Caline: If you think it’s needed. I have only ever encouraged my students to forgive each other.

Remy: right, which is why you never told your class they were being lied to by Lila and denied them the chance to forgive her.

True to his word, Remy did bring an inspector around, and was he thorough! Marinette’s previous expulsion case was brought up and both Damocles and Caline were fired for mishandling the case. Remy even forced them to apologize to Marinette. Some, including Adrien, might protest this was harsh, but Remy drily pointed out that Caline’s method of forgiving bullies without punishing them was called enabling. Did she expect them to forgive Hawkmoth too? And Damocles is not supposed to turn school property into some cheap owl cave, nor punish the school for Chloe’s misdeeds. They were like children in the bodies of adults.

Oh, and Lila was exposed too. She had to confess her special ability to the whole school, outing her as someone who likes to tell tall tales.

Understandably, akumas appeared. Curiously though, they never got much chance to cause chaos. Mainly because the no-nonsense inspector and Remy struck them in the head once the transformation had finished, giving them no time to react, and proceeded to keep hitting them till they passed out.

Everyone stared at them.

Remy: What? The miraculous cure will fix everything.

And Remy finally got to discuss baking with Marinette! He just didn’t understand why she was so fixated on Adrien Agreste. The model reminded Remy of Caline, always about forgiving bullies. Spoken like someone who has never been bullied himself!

He just has to help Marinette see that Adrien isn’t worth her time. Some planned situations to show how useless the boy is. Good thing he has the mayor’s daughter at his beck and call. And he just knows she is dying to be mean again.

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 8/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

-----------------------------------------------

When Keekee suddenly showed up at the hotel without her dad, Charlie had a slight moment of panic. Thoughts of 'oh my god, did they kill him?', 'is he locked up in Heaven???', 'I knew I or someone should've went with him', and 'please don't be dead dad!' went through her head.

Thankfully the cat familiar took pity on her and relayed her master's message and whereabouts. It didn't really stop Charlie from worrying but it eased her just a little bit to know that her dad is safe back home.

Charlie: I should go to him, right? To make sure he's really fine?

Angel: Toots, I think short king just needs a little time to himself. Just cos he said you can go doesn't really mean you have to go now.

Vaggie: I hate to say it but I think Angel is kinda right, surprisingly.

Angel: Oh fuck ya! I can give sound advices too, yaknow.

A chuckle from Cherri Bomb is what started a whole roasting session that they will surely laugh about later.

Cherri Bomb: Pfft, sure.

Angel: I do!

Husk can't help but join in on the teasing too.

Husk: Angel, just give up. You're gonna give that Fizzarolli guy a run for his money telling those jokes.

Angel: Gasp! Huskie, you too?! Betrayed by my own boyfriend.

Husk: I'm not your boyfriend!

The blush on the bartender's face could rival Alastor's outfit's shade of red. It became redder when Nifty let out a sinister-like gremlin laugh that no one in the hotel would like to hear if they can help it.

Nifty: Hehehehe. Not yet~

Angel: Husk, baby, have you been talking to others about your feelings fo' wittle old meeee?

Husk: No!

They continue to bicker and Charlie can't help but look at them with adoration. All of them have come so far and she can confidently say that they have evolved into somewhat of a family unit. A bit dysfunctional but she won't have it any other way.

Vaggie: Why don't you let the man sleep for a bit.

Charlie: I just worry, Vaggie..

The soft look her girlfriend gave her would've melted Charlie into a lovesick puddle if she wasn't so preoccupied with her dad.

Vaggie: I know, babe.

Alastor: I do have to agree with them, dear.

The ex-exorcist yelped in surprise at Alastor's sudden presence beside them while Charlie had grown accustomed to the man's nasty habit of sneaking up on people. Maybe she should invest a bell for him. Hmm... She wonders if her dad can make Al wear one.

Vaggie: Jesus, Alastor!

Charlie: You too, Al?

Alastor: Why don't you join us for a meal first, hm? That should give your father enough time to rest. I seem to remember that it was your turn to set the table, isn't that right, Vagatha?

Vaggie grumbles something in Spanish that Charlie is sure is a curse word but doesn't argue anymore.

Vaggie: Everyone, dining hall. Now!

And just like that, everyone stopped talking and went straight to the kitchen, leaving just Keekee, Charlie, and Alastor in the lobby.

Charlie absentmindedly pets Keekee who climbed up in her arms while looking at her family fondly. She takes notice of Alastor next to her sporting the same look as hers.

She's glad that he's opening up bit by bit. She wonders if her dad had anything to do with that or if Alastor just learned to trust on his own.

Speaking of Al and her dad. That's a can of worms that she was, at first, afraid to open. She's happy for her dad, don't get her wrong, but there's still days where she misses her mom. Sometimes, if she's in a really bad place, she imagines her mom coming back and all three of them living happily ever after again.

With Alastor in the picture, she became a bit afraid. Of being replaced as the most important person in her dad's life or how her once dream happily ever after will never be reality, she doesn't know.

But seeing Alastor's genuinely care for her dad; never leaving his bedside after the Roo debacle, leaving Marigold's everywhere (how romantic is that, Vaggie!), and providing solace for her dad that she knows she can't always give. Those actions told her that maybe despite not getting her original happy ever after with her mom and dad, she can always dream of a new one.

There's something different about Alastor right now, though. He looks more stiff than usual but sagging at the same time. It could be also be worry but Charlie thinks she knows Alastor enough to tell that he's irritated. And he's definitely leaning into his cane more.

Alastor, probably feeling her stare, sighs.

Alastor: What is it, my dear?

Charlie at least had the decency to be flustered for staring.

Charlie: Sorry, Al. But um... are you okay?

Alastor: Whatever do you mean?

Charlie: It's just- you look, I don't know, irritated? Or like annoyed? I know I sound hypocritical but dad's gonna be alright.

Alastor: I appreciate the sentiment, Charlie, but I have full faith in your father. He is not the source of my... mood. Not directly, anyway.

He accidentally said the last part instead of just thinking about it but thankfully it was quiet enough that Charlie didn't caught it.

His answer just made Charlie more confused. Tilting her head, she looks at the radio demon quizzically.

Charlie: So you are in a mood?

Alastor: Nothing for you to be worried about, my dear! It might just be my cravings.

Charlie: For... human flesh?

He gives her one of his more sinister grins, the one she's seen when he's hungry for blood (and not the cannibal kind). He's just being silly, she thinks to herself. She made a note to ask her dad about partner choices later.

Alastor: Fried fish.

And with that, Alastor disappears into the kitchen. Keekee purrs in Charlie's hold as her eyes trail the retreating shadow.

Charlie: What a creepy guy, huh.

Her pet only meows in response.

-----------------------------------------------

This wasn't how this chapter was supposed to end but I decided to cut it in half anyway.

Tomorrow is some meal moments and Charlie going to see her dad.

Don't worry, we'll get back to Luci in a bit!

[darklinaforever]

Nah i have so many arguments on why Alicent is 1000 times better than Rhaenyra, but are you mad cause im stating straight up facts? Emma is ugly. They look like a man lmao it's just awkward 😭 the photoshoot with Olivia was like beauty and beasts, two men and a gorgeous redhead woman.

Rhaenyra is hypocrite weak ass and useless just like her father. Only good to cry, spread legs and giving birth. That's what your so called “rightful heir” did the whole season. I hate Daemon too, but i enjoyed when he choked her out, it was actually good scene. I would have done much worse to her. I hope he will in the next seasons, and the leaks is saying he's treating her like shit. Sounds good to me, are you ready to cry Daemyras? 🤪 Ryan is coming to destroy you all 😂

It's funny, because Alicent only expression throughout the series is watery-eyed... (We can literally make compilations about this ! ) But Rhaenyra is the one who's only good for crying ? Good joke.

Rhaenyra is a hypocrite ? It's funny, it seemed to me that it was Alicent who was hypocritical throughout the show ! Are you sure you didn't swap roles ? (Or simply being a hypocrite yourself, in addition to being stupid perhaps...)

I don't know which is more disgusting. Your comments on the physique of Emma D'arcy who is non-binary.

(Also, no what you're saying is not a fact, beauty is something purely subjective, and many find Emma D'arcy magnificent whether you like it or not. In fact I totally imagine that this reality makes you enrage. Oh. And I'm not sure Olivia Cooke, the Alicent actress herself, would appreciate this kind of gratuitous nastiness towards one of his friends... In any case, from the moment you decide to attack the actor because you don't like the character that this actor plays, you have a real problem in your head)

Or the fact that you enjoyed a scene of abuse against a female character, while hoping that she would suffer even more. (My god, what is wrong with you ?!)

Also... the deep misogyny you must be feeling !

Because I guess when you talk about spreading your legs, you're talking about Rhaenyra having to deal with her own sexuality, like it's some kind of shame ? Once again pathetic.

How long will Rhaenyra be blamed for having a sex life as if it were some kind of crime exactly ? (Again, hello misogyny)

I also want to say that Alicent also had children during the series. So she must have given birth at some point on her own, even if we didn't see her. The fact is that she also had children throughout season 1. So I don't really understand this criticism about giving birth / having children to Rhaenyra specifically... (While Rhaenyra must literally producing heirs, it's one of her obligations. Plus it's logical that we see her give birth since obviously having children is something that scared her at the start of the season ! Especially since we sees her having only 2 births out of 6, what's going on...) another proof of misogyny I guess ? Even Laena and Aemma have been pregnant and had childbirth. So frankly, apart from a gratuitous misogynistic remark, I don't see what you mean. Even in Fire and Blood the births of children are listed for several female characters ! So...why specifically blame Rhaenyra for having children/giving birth ? My god, this is so ridiculous...

You are truly a disgusting person.

Also, who really has nothing to do but come and annoy people. Once again, you're pathetic, except this is on an even more critical level than I thought.

And we call Rhaenyra the rightful heir because... well that's what she is ? She was designated by her father the king as heir to the throne, so that is what she is. Quite simply. A reality that you apparently have difficulty integrating. (Also, in Fire and Blood, Rhaenyra actively learned to be a future queen... And from what we saw in episode 6, she seems to have politically logical thoughts at the council table facing a Alicent poor in arguments)

I also would like to know what Aegon II, the son of Alicent whom she absolutely wants to place on the throne, did apart from harassing his own brother, twiddling his thumbs, drinking, raping women and forcing his illegitimate children to fight in an arena ? Does Alicent's son seem more worthy than Rhaenyra ? I do not think so. At least Rhaenyra learned her duties as heir. (As she says in episode 10 to Lucerys)

And I don't care what the show does. It has its own canon and is essentially fanfiction. The series is not the book. And as long as the book exists, I don't care what happens to this show. They are not the characters in Fire and Blood and never will be.

Your precious little Alicent from HOTD is just the massacre of the real Alicent Hightower who would be ashamed of this ridiculous counterpart that you all defend like crazy.

Alicent and Greens stans leave this in my inbox.

[legacyshenanigans]

Question about Rown I'm not sure has been answerd: So I know Rowan is a Lycan and that makes him like royalty in werewolf society, but do Lycans and Werewolves in your Universe also have pack dynamics like Alpha/Beta/Omega? I also know Rowan's pack was hunted and eliminated. Does he ever feel like he is missing something not having a pack of his own? Or is Marvolo his pack now?

In my Universe Lycans and Werewolves kinda merge into one thing, and I only really did that because of my lore for Rowan it made sense, as he possesses abilities from both sides. In general there isn't too much difference between werewolves and Lycans. But yeah 😊 Thanks for asking about him! I love answering things like this! I think I've touched on it before! But I'll happily say some things again for you 🤍🤍

Rowan Lore 🐺

Pack dynamic and mentality is definitely a trait Rowan has. Though from spending years alone and by himself as not part of a pack, Rowan doesn't really follow it so religiously.

Rowan knows he's strong, and carries peak 'alpha' traits. As part of a pack, Rowan would be a top candidate for the alpha position, silly as Rowan can be at times, he would make a GREAT pack leader. But the years of being alone, and the trauma, took that desire out of him.

Rowans parents often bickered and argued when he was young. His father, who was the pack leader of their clan, said Rowan was born and destined to be their next leader and had to he raised as such. whereas his mother didn't like that and always overworried for Rowan, and would encourage him to remain soft, humble, and safe. Rowan often felt very torn between these two things. His father wasn't a nasty leader by any stretch of the imagination, but he did lead with intense vigour and responsibility and was a very powerful and stoic man. His mother was extremely soft and caring and would often mollycoddle Rowan far too much.

Now, Rowan doesn't so much feel like he's missing out Per Se, but he definitely knows his strengths, he can very easily control and intimidate other Werewolves/Lycans he's crossed paths with due to his alpha traits and the demeanour he'll give off around them, but ultimately he's not trying to build a new pack with the likes of others of his kind.

When it comes to his "pack" now, he definitely sees the likes of the Gaunts and MC as his "pack family." Though it's important to note that Rowan does NOT see Marvolo as his Alpha, but as a friend. Usually if Marvolo asks him to do something he will do it, but that's purely based on the fact Marvolo helped him when nobody else did, Marvolo offered him sanctuary and gave him a proper life within society (to an extent.) And chooses to be loyal to him because of it, helping him out, doing favours, etc. But Rowan reeeeally doesn't see it as a hierarchy. He's does things for Marvolo because he WANTS to, not because he has to. There's been times where Rowan won't do something, and Marvolo accepts it.

Pack behaviour is something that still runs strong in him though. He always has to know where they are, if they're safe, stuff like that, he doesn't like it when they're out or sight for too long, and gets worked up if he can't find them or doesn't know where they are. He has the intense need to protect them at all times. He can't have someone taking down his 'family' again.

~