#never feel like i can get them down very well

[hurlingdown]

                     THE BAAAAD TOUCH!

synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.

tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)

a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.

“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”  

he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity. 

 “fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory. 

“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there. 

“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.” 

you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair? 

“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?” 

“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle. 

he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust. 

“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?” 

“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.” 

“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.” 

“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.” 

“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.” 

jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really. 

“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?” 

he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him. 

“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.” 

and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it. 

his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.

VANDER

. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes. 

“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…” 

he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide. 

there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty. 

vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care. 

it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is. 

“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust. 

“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.” 

who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were. 

“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock. 

hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it. 

before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed. 

the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it. 

“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.” 

he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted. 

“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.

SILCO

silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon. 

“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?” 

silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes. 

“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts. 

“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.” 

“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?” 

silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through. 

“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.” 

you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that. 

“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.” 

“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?” 

“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.” 

“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?” 

but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?” 

“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.” 

you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content. 

he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good. 

“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?” 

“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.” 

the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly. 

you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything. 

“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy. 

“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.” 

you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name. 

you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.

VIKTOR

“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.” 

his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it. 

“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?” 

viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so. 

“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.” 

it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him. 

but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?

he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself. 

it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is. 

maybe it’ll fit. 

“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.” 

“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all. 

“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…” 

you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only. 

he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.” 

you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak. 

he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.

it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined. 

“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.” 

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.

masterlist!

[quarterlifekitty]

heyyy

can I ask for a part 2 on fuckboy soap?

i want to know more about what happens with reader and simon

in my head, Simon HATES seeing Johnny treat the reader that way. i can envision Simon taking her out, treating her right and all but stealing away Johnny's toy.

So, I posted a part 2, but I have these asks about it and I’d hate for them to go to waste— so I thought I’ll do a little bit of expansion on the relationship. Some shite exposition.

Uhhhh I’m back from writing this now and I didn’t mean to do this but I kind of made this like a prequel or like a part 1.5 I didn’t mean to make it so long oops

Promethean: how to starve a beast

Simon does not involve himself, in any way, in the nasty hookup miasma that Soap is a part of. That most of the frat is a part of, honestly. Motherfucker doesn’t party. This man is on financial aid and has a part time job. He is studying because he’s the one paying for his schooling and for his living expenses.

He doesn’t care that Johnny fucks people under less than savory pretenses. People get played by him? Better they learn their lesson with some harmless douche with a mohawk than with someone who will actually do some damage. Ultimately, not his business. He’s seen plenty of people come and go across the hall, and he’s not fussed.

He doesn’t respond to the conquest stories from the other guys when they’re sharing takeout, or the occasional ‘family’ dinner. Really, the only reaction he gives, even internally, is when one of them comments on something some girl did that was gross, or something about them that wasn’t hot.

A complaint that her period started when she stayed the night. I’d like to fuck a girl while she’s on the rag. Bet it’s fucking warm and slick.

A complaint that she had cellulite. Way to out yourself as being a porn addict, mate.

A complaint that her nails dug too hard into his skin. I’d love for a girl to make me bleed when I fuck her.

He didn’t feel any sympathy. Just accumulated little, harmless fantasies.

Until Johnny started talking about you.

Simon didn’t know you. Had never met you. Seen you once or twice, maybe. Hadn’t learned to even recognize your face.

“Kept leanin’, think she wanted me t’kiss her.”

“So fockin’ bad at giving head. S’a bit cute, tae be honest.”

“Tried tae make a grab for my hand the other night. Can ye believe it? Tryin’ tae hold my hand while ah’m givin’ it tae her. Daft thing still doesnae get it.”

Then he starts to notice you when you leave Soap’s room. The way you very gently close his door as if you’re worried about bothering him. The way you pause, like there’s something you want to say, before you move on. The deep breath. The odd sniffle.

And then, when you show up. Yanked inside without so much as a kind word.

Simon has to strain and get close to the door if he wants to hear you. Soap’s loud as all fuck, but from what one can hear from the hall, he may as well be in there alone.

It’s like there’s an electric coil in his belly. Every time there’s something to do with you, the dial ticks over a notch. The current heats the metal. Every time Soap brags about what he’s done to you. Every time he sees you shake when you walk down the hall and out of the house. Every time Soap brags about what you, the stupid little thing he keeps for a fuckpet, really wants—

The coil is red hot. Even if he could figure out how to turn off the burner, the heat would stay. The metal would be hot to the touch. The heat radiates the very air in front of him, like a mirage. He thinks of you when you’re not even in the house. When no one’s talking about you. You’re a parasite that’s squirmed deep into his gut and you can’t be removed without pulling his organs out with you.

He feels like he’s gone mad. How can no one else see it the way he does? How can Johnny not see how privileged he is to have you even look at him? How can he not want the perfect devotion you’re so keen to give him? How can you not know that any man would thank god for your returned affection, if you’d only set your sights on one that wasn’t a complete and total fuckhead? How has no jealous classmate or longtime friend come by and set Johnny’s nose bloody and crooked for how he’s treated you, sensitive and dangerously endearing as you are?

Every time Johnny talked about you, he had no idea that it was another rusted staple under his best mate’s skin. Building your mythology. Making you a prize. No, that wasn’t right.

Making you seem utterly wasted. Shackled yourself to a mutt with no sense for what he had writhing and submissive beneath him.

Soap has the perfect thing, the finest yield of flesh, right between his teeth and he won’t bite down.

Content for you to rot in his maw.

Well, Simon isn’t.

[scartale-an-undertale-au]

So... I see this a decade after i decided to simply... Stop instigating conversations because i felt like im simply burdening others with my presence and that they actually felt annoyed having to hear from me and wished i wouldnt send messages.

The thing is that none of them ever approached me afterwards. When we saw each other after a while we would be ecstatic but there was a wall between us already and i dont know if its simply life going on and us being very different than back then, or that they truly didnt see me the same as i saw them (as my besties).

One time i met one of them (this one specifically was my best friend from first grade until twelve basically) on the street and i see that she's married and walking with her husband. Turns out the wedding was that sunday and i wasnt even notified of it happening or of the engagement. I wasnt mad about not being invited, but i was hurt for not even being notified! She then turned to her husband and said that im a friend of her from high school.

Its been a decade from high school so i can see why she said that, but that hurt me so badly that the moment i waved them goodbye and they disappeared around a corner, i collapsed and just sobbed. I was so heartbroken. It seemed that i was the only one who still thought of her as my old school's bestie or had thought of including her in any future milestones simply because she was so important to me.

So i dont know how i feel about this post. I understand where you guys are coming from and its in good intentions, but the main issue is that many kids who become the sole instigators were never shown that they can be vulnerable in front of their friends about this matter. It felt like its your duty and how you contribute to the group. And when it became harder and harder, the friends never questioned why you pulled away or asked for your wellbeing. It turned into a situation when you feel more like a nuisance than a leader.

Fortunately, i have now friends who instigate so much more than me and i keep telling them how i appreciate it and apologise for how terrible i am at texting back and that its never because i dont want them to text me. Its simply because texting or answering messages had become so hard for me and so mentally taxing i sometimes shut down when i see messages i need to reply to.

So rambling aside, as much as i appreciate your sentiment, i think a different approach would be helpful.

My approach (which is not better or worse, just a different approach) is to get comfortable with a 'friends for one day' reality. I go so many times to so many places and meet so many amazing people, we always say we'll contact one another and keep in touch and then never contact one another again, and that's alright.

You have to be comfortable with being friends without focusing on the 'keeping the friendship going' let people come and go. Those who truly want to stick around will stick around, and they usually have a much deeper connection with you that isnt dependant on who instigates the conversations.

My friends are those that mostly text in memes and reels since we dont see each other often. And i do the same in return. Its easier and relays so much more. We have proper conversations here and there, but our actual interactions happen physically. And they instigate meetups much more than i do and i always make sure that they know that i appreciate it. One of my friends and i also have some differences in opinions, so we have some long discussions.

I also have a friend who i dont text to at all but invites me to shabbat meals once in a while and i come over and its like no time had passed. I invite her back for bbq or shabbat as well, but thats also once in a blue moon.

Another friend is across the ocean so its mostly photos and small comments and talks about our lives and since the war began, she keeps checking if im alive and well.

Another friend is also across the ocean and we mostly speak about our realities of being jews or squeal over her precious daughter or make plans for when she finally comes to Israel.

So my friends arent part of one group but many branches of different aspects of my life. I would say i have around seven/eight of them that arent my current co workers (work friendship is also temporary and i accept that fully and enjoy our time together) and im truly blessed because i had let go of the desperate need to keep my friends together.

So please dont call us a bitch for not willing to talk about it. And we're certainly not mini community leaders, we're just people who are friends with those that never cared about reaching out first or affirming our friendship in any kind of way. Its not fair to put the expectations of reaching out onto the one who constantly did that. Friends who truly want to keep up a friendship will attempt to do so when they see that the other side isnt as present as previously.

Sorry im all over the place, im on my phone and its harder to articulate on it

every now and then the internet decides it should revamp the ole “stop texting first and see how many friends you lose” when in reality you could literally just communicate that u feel bad that ur the only one texting first

[rafesangelita]

…SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER AU

⋆𐙚₊˚🍺⊹♡

SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who spend a lottt of time in the back seat of his cop car. they have an age gap that would raise all kinds of alarm if the people of the small town they resided in ever found out. sheriff!rafe is beefy, his muscles bulging through every shirt he wears. farmer’s!daughter!reader is too busy raising hell all around town in hopes that someone calls the police station so rafe can handcuff her and get her act cleaned up. “you can’t just go actin’ a fool whenever you feel like screwin’ i mean it!” he’s pulling her underwear up her thighs as she lays face down against his leather seats, completely fucked out. “whatever you say, dad.” rafe is groaning at her words as he uncuffs her. “yeah? i oughta’ take you home right now then and let him know about all the trouble you been gettin’ into.”

SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who go on their dates in the next town over so they don’t run the risk of being caught by any locals. farmer’s!daughter!reader who teases rafe all the time, calling him an ‘old man’ and saying he’s a perv for entertaining her antics. “there’s a motel not too far from here.. just ‘sayin.” there’s a hint of a smile playing on her lips, the older man in front of her looking unamused. “you’re suggesting that i take you to a motel and you’re callin’ me a perv? get outta here.” despite his faux disinterest, they end up checking into the said motel for the night, his stomach slapping against her clit as he fucks her into oblivion on the dingy mattress of the cheap room. sheriff!rafe who actually knows farmer’s!daughter!reader’s father very well, both of them going all the way back to their high school days.

SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who can’t stand each other sometimes. rafe is scolding her, telling her that she shouldn’t be wearing those ‘godforsaken’ shorts of hers since it draws a lot of the wrong attention. “you’re just mad because jj maybank is wondering what color panties i have on..” she’s leaning into the window of his cop car, his jaw clenching as he eyed the scruffy looking blonde who stood not too far away, shot gunning hot beers with his friends. “mad at the ‘maybank kid? please, darlin’ he’s a joke.” she’s laughing at his words, getting close to his ear before whispering; “i’m glad you think so, because i’m about to go over there and tell him i’m not wearing any..” that sets rafe off and it isn’t long before he’s slamming jj down against the hood of his car and arresting him for underaged drinking..

SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who are such polar opposites, even they don’t understand how they work together. sheriff!rafe has a rough exterior, seemingly cold, closed off and never smiles, whereas farmer’s!daughter!reader is dancing on tables in bars she shouldn’t even be at, and being a little minx to see how many free drinks she can get out of the regulars. so much so, that rafe started patrolling around town at night so he could stop her from doing something stupid. and of course, without fail, he’s getting a radio call saying there’s been a report of a quote, unquote ‘young woman resisting arrest and assaulting an officer.’ and rafe is arriving onto the scene almost immediately, cursing under his breath when he see’s her being held down by at least four of his men in uniform.

SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who eventually have to get serious with one another, both of them knowing that what they have is anything but casual. sheriff!rafe who doesn’t know how to go about it, so he decides it’s best to just be blunt. “so uhm— what do ‘ya say to moving out of your pop’s and living with me instead?” farmer’s!daughter!reader is staring at him from across the table at their favorite diner. “what?” she’s frozen, holding her knife over her plate of fluffy pancakes. “are you serious?” rafe is nodding as he takes a cigarette out of his pocket, placing it between his lips. “yeah, but this rowdy act of yours needs to stop. m’not gonna have you actin’ reckless if i’m the one taking care of you.” he doesn’t have to tell her twice before she’s nodding, throwing her arms around the grumpy sheriff before pressing kisses to his cheek.

[drunkinyourbenz]

can you do a billie with reader who has her period and it feels like literal hell please?

୨ৎ whatever you need. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff

୨ৎ content: period cramps (obviously), overwhelmed reader, established relationship, this is soooo fluffy and billie's big on physical affection!!

୨ৎ note: anon baby u read my mind my period started today and ugh it’s literal hell so writing this came sooo naturally to me because this is exactly what i need rn (cried while writing this i'm so so emotional) i tried very hard not to make it super specific to my experiences so this is basically my morning minus my specific symptoms and plus billie!! i hope this brings u some much needed comfort baby, we're in this together <3

when you woke up, the sun was barely even peeking through the curtains, and your room was still bathed in darkness. you reached for your phone, groaning at the bright screen and rubbing your bleary eyes. two am, that’s what your phone read. that’s when it hit you, the sharp pain in your lower abdomen, a pain so intense you had no idea how you hadn’t noticed it straight away. you groaned, rolling over in bed and burying your head in your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut. your nails dug into your palms, anything to distract you from the constant excruciating pain you were feeling. 

after about half an hour, you dragged yourself out of bed. you trudged into the kitchen, where you ate half a mandarin before taking some pain medication. the meds didn’t tend to work, but you’d do anything to think you were making it better. you managed to force yourself to take a quick shower, just to freshen up. after the shower, you got changed into one of billie’s oversized t-shirts and some shorts, and you collapsed back into your bed. you were well aware that you should get yourself a heating pad, but you didn’t have the energy. 

after about half an hour of laying there with your legs hugged halfway to your chest, begging for the cramps to just disappear magically, you remembered something. today was a day where billie had a big surprise date planned out for you, and you really didn’t want to be a buzzkill, but… 

you grabbed your phone again, going straight to billie’s contact. you typed out a few messages, deleting them over and over again, before finally settling on one. 

hi baby, i’m so sorry i don’t think i can make our date 

it didn’t take long for billie to respond, and just over a minute later, you had a new text from her. there was no disappointment or frustration in the message, just concern.

bils: you okay angel? it’s 3am?

you stared at the text for a moment before responding simply.

eh, cramps. 

that time, her response was instant. you could picture the concerned expression on her face, and you were hit with a wave of adoration for her. she just cared so much. 

bils: aw baby, i’m coming over rn, okay??

no bils it’s 3am you don’t have to don’t wanna be a bother 

bils: please, u could never bother me bils: i’m coming over, end of story

you pouted softly, overwhelmed with love for her. 

i love you

bils: i love you more bils: anything you need me to bring?

just you and maggie’s baking if u have any

bils: ofc ofc i’m omw mama

before you knew it, billie had gotten to your place. you heard your front door open, she had a spare key that she used once in a while in situations like this or when you weren’t home. you heard her soft footsteps approaching your room, and soon enough your door opened and she walked in. she had on some sweatpants and a baggy hoodie, and a bag in her hands. 

“hi, angel.” she walked up to your bed, leaning down and kissing your forehead. her voice was soft and soothing, and you were reminded then that you could literally just listen to her talk for hours on end.

you opened your mouth to speak, but she continued talking before you could. “i brought some of mum’s cookies, you can have as many as you want. anything you need? can i get you a heating pad or some tea? what about pain meds?”

in reality, all you wanted was to curl up in bed to her and cling to her like she was your lifeline, but you knew that a heating pad would be the wise decision. so you nodded, “i’ve taken my pain meds, but a heating pad would be nice…”

billie quickly left the room and grabbed you a heating pad, passing it to you so you could put it wherever was most comfortable. she looked like she was about to ask what else you needed, so you bet her to it. you opened your arms up, holding them out for her and pouting up at her from the bed. a smile spread across her lips, and she didn’t waste time climbing under the covers with you and wrapping her arms around you. her fingers found your hair, and she let them gently brush through it. 

your head nuzzled into the crook of billie’s neck as you closed your eyes, fiddling with the edge of her hoodie to try and distract yourself from the pain. you could feel her eyes on you, and after a long moment, you lifted your head from where you’d hidden it. “i’m sorry ‘bout our date. i know you planned it all out.” your voice came out in a mumble, muffled against billie’s shoulder. 

she kept stroking your hair softly, “don’t apologise, baby. it’s totally out of your control. plus, there’ll be other days we can reschedule it to. i’d rather you be at home and comfortable.” she paused to press a kiss to the top of your head. “i love you, and i’d go wherever you asked, even at 3am. you’re not burdening me with anything, i promise.” 

you could already feel yourself getting overwhelmed with emotions at her sweet words, another thing that your period often caused. you groaned softly, burying your head back into the crook of her neck. “shut up, i’ll cry if you keep being so cute.”

billie just giggled, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, then your forehead, then your nose. “love youuu!” she said in a singsong voice, clearly trying to distract you from the fact that the date couldn’t go ahead. 

you knew that she was trying to take your mind off it, and you didn’t mind. it was reassuring that she was happy just to be there with you. the two of you spent a while just cuddled up together, when another wave of cramps hit. your cramps were constant, but some definitely worse than others. you groaned under your breath, your grip subconsciously tightening on the hem of billie’s hoodie.

she looked down at you, asking again with that ever so soothing voice. “need anything, angel?” 

you simply hummed, trying your best not to just double over in pain and not speak for the rest of the day. after a moment, you mumbled, “herbal tea? and maggie’s cookies?” 

billie leaned down and kissed your forehead, “at your service.” 

she spoke with a small playful grin on her face, and slipped out of the bed. she returned a few minutes later, a mug of lavender tea in her hands and a plate of maggie’s cookies. after placing those on your bedside table, she reached for her bag, pulling out another hoodie. it was one of the ones she wore most, and therefore also one of the ones that you wore most. you were the hoodie thief of the relationship, and billie certainly didn’t mind—if anything, she encouraged it. 

she slipped the hoodie over your head, and you let out a sigh when her smell enveloped you. it smelt like a mix of her perfume and that one moisturiser she used every single day and loved more than life itself. you hummed in satisfaction, “this one’s my favourite.”

billie chuckled, slipping your arms into the hoodie. “trust me, i’m well aware.”

she held the mug of tea up to your lips so you could take a sip, and she felt her heart warm at the small smile that spread across your lips. 

soon, billie slipped back into bed with you. the cramps were still tearing you apart from the inside and you still felt like absolute hell, but at least she was there with you—that made it a tiny bit better. 

the next half hour passed in a comfortable silence, the only movements being billie giving you a gentle kiss or stroking your hair. it didn’t take long, however, for a thought that you had pushed from your frustrated mind to return. it lingered there, clawing at your brain until you finally spoke. 

“i hate that this happened so close to christmas. i still have presents to wrap. i had so much i needed to do, and now i’m just–” 

“i can wrap your presents.” billie’s calming voice cut through the mess of thoughts in your brain, and you fell silent—only for a moment, though. 

“but–” 

“shhh, baby. no buts. i’ll wrap any presents that aren’t for me. i want to help you, yeah?” 

a pout made it’s way to your lips, “you’re too good to me. i can wrap maggie’s and—” 

“angel, i’m not going to tell my family what you got them. just let me help you, yeah?” 

after a long pause, you relented. “...yeah. thank you.” billie smiled, kissing your forehead once again and squeezing your hand. “It’s nothing. i’ll stay with you today: wrap your presents, make a nice warm dinner, run you a bath, and cuddle you to sleep.” 

at that, your heart practically melted. you weren’t sure if it was the period making you extra emotional or just the love you held in your heart for her. you were so full of adoration for this girl, you had no idea how she managed to be so completely and utterly perfect. she knew you like the back of her hand, she knew just how to make your day better, she knew just how to bring that smile to your face. sometimes you swore she knew you better than you knew yourself. 

you spoke again, your voice soft. “what did i ever do to deserve someone as perfect as you?” 

billie smiled and kissed your forehead again. “you deserve all the good things in the world, my beautiful girl. i’m just lucky to be one of them.”

[gamerexdrex]

"Hey! Let me go you oversized lizard!" Screamed the farmer, struggling against your grip.

Honestly, if it wasn't to prove to the stuck ups at the council, you would have never bothered even looking twice at this human, much less putting up with her screeching; but alas, sacrifices must be made for your tesis.

But it's damn hard when the human has been biting at your fingers. You are not sure why she thought it was a good idea, it has only been bothering you and might hurt her teeth.

When you finally, FINALLY, make it to the old castle, your are about ready to sleep a hundred years; but it isn't the time! You need! To teach! The human!

You land on the patio of the castle, with plenty of space for practice, and gently put the raving human down.

"Listen human-"

WACK

The human somehow found a large stick in the five seconds you've been in this place and immediatly hit your eye.

You should have just horded gold like your mom

"Listen-"

WACK

"human-"

WACK

"do you-"

WACK

"want-"

WACK

"to learn-"

WACK

"magic"

She stops in her tracks, and looks at you confused. "Soooo you are not going to eat me"

Your eye twichs "If I wanted a meal, I would have eaten the king's whole army of horses"

"Oh"

There is a bit of awkard silence

"So when do we begin?" She beams

You smile

"When I finish taking a nap, give 5 minutes and we'll start."

.....

You scribble the runes yet again, and once again, nothing happens.

The dragon seems even more disappointed than before somehow.

"It should work now, I don't know how this is possible"

You stare and can't help but feel frustrated with yourself. it's supposed to work, you two have been trying up until sundown.

It's probably your fault nothing happens.

You can hear the dragon's voice above you "let's take a break, shall we? Maybe when our heads are clear, we'll find a solution"

You wonder if the dragon is either very positive or very stubborn

After a fire and a couple of sheep the dragon got from...somewhere for dinner, you stare at the stars. You don't think you've seen this constelations before

"I'm sorry"

You turn to the dragon, surprised.

"I brought you here against your will, told you I would teach you magic, and we have yet to get a reaction from the runes" He lowers his head "So I apologise little human"

After a moment of shock, you smile sadly "It's alright, I guess I just wasn't cut out for this"

"Don't say that human; acording to my research, every human has the capacity to channel magic; and we did everything right"

You bite your cheek "If you say so" you look over the runes "what does it say anyways?"

You don't notice the dragon freezing in place but you do notice when he speaks up

"What"

Confused, you turn to him "well, yes? I don't know what we are writing so..."

He stares some more "Isn't this common knowledge? There are books written by you humans! That's how I know you could do magic!"

Is your turn to stare

"Quick question, how are those books?"

"There are just a little over a hundred yea-" the dragons stops and, after processing the imformation a bit, slams his head on the ground.

"I forgot to account human ages, of course I did"

You sit besides the dispairimg dragon "Soooo I assume meaning and understaning are important for magic"

"Mhm" He answers, head still on the ground "We've been writing the true names of spirits and powerful beings. You summon or imbude the strenght of those entities by writing them on this language. But it only works if the entity is understood to be powerful."

You ponder for a bit, and run to grab your big stick

"Can you tell me your name?"

The dragon looks up "huh?"

"Or at leats how it would be written in that weird old language, I have an idea"

The dragon looks at you a bit more, shrugs, and begins writing on the ground with it's claw

You carve the runes on the stick, now with the understanding that this is the name of your teacher.

Once finished, you looked at the letters and something odd happens. They begin to shine.

You aim at the sky, and a blast of purple light comes out of the tip of it, so strong that it send you flying. You are caught by the dragon. The hairs of your neck are standing up.

There is silence

"Y-you did it"

"I did it"

"YOU DID IT"

"I DID IT"

You both begin to laugh, of delight, of satisfaction, of relief, of excitement.

You did it

The other dragons laughed when you shared your thesis that humans should be capable of learning magic. Infuriated, you fly off to capture a human and teach it the ways of magic.

[secriden]

This line. God, this line! It has been eating me up inside for 2 days now, because let's not forget, this line isn't about love, it's about trust. And that has implications that make me want to scream.

It's a direct reference to this moment earlier in the episode:

At the start of this discussion, Style and Fadel still have a kind of playful air about their conversation:

Style: Oh? Not even me? Fadel: You're at 80% at best. I feel like you're hiding something from me in the 20%.

In this exchange, though, there's a sense that Fadel is issuing a challenge, like there's something specific which Style can do to gain Fadel's full trust. And while Style knows there are things he cannot (yet) reveal to Fadel, I think a part of him is determined to be as honest as he can be, which is why he issues a challenge of his own by asking for more specificity:

Style: What do I have to do to gain your complete trust?

Part of this question is a simultaneously inquisitive and deflective - What (and why) do you think I'm hiding (something) from you? - but there's also a moment after Style finishes speaking where he stills and goes quiet that feels... genuine, weighty. Or, as @airenyah has pointed out in her meta on Style in episode 4, the "grounded[ness]" in Style's demeanour is a signal that Style means what he's saying in the moment. Maybe about his own desire to be worthy of Fadel's trust, maybe about how he genuinely does want this relationship to be real in whatever way that matters to Fadel.

I think Fadel sensed that too, because the moment looses all the lightheartedness it had before. Fadel pauses, and then gets a look on his face that just... breaks my heart. There's a sombreness there, like he knows he's going to have to say something that makes him sad. Fadel looks away, and then down, before he seems to steel himself and says:

Fadel: It'll never happen. No matter how much you love someone, I just don't believe that you can completely lay yourself bare in front of them.

Fadel says this like it's fact. Like what he's expressing is something foundational and true and irrefutable. It's not even about his doubt in Style's honesty, because this statement has no qualifiers or conditions put on it to connect it to Style. Rather this is what Fadel fundamentally believes about relationships and trust: he finds the very concept of being fully known and still accepted an impossibility.

Sure, maybe this is because of the falling out (or betrayal or disappearance) associated with the former lover; but I also think it might be because Fadel is acutely aware not only that he's hiding a rather big and dark secret (not to mince words, but: actual literal premeditated murder), but also about what it implies about Fadel. Because being able to kill another human, coldly and clinically and without remorse, takes a certain type of person. Because, yes, Fadel has lived through an absolutely harrowing and traumatising event (his parents' murder), but it's also undeniable that it changed him. Because there's something about Fadel that twisted dark and which he never quite got back. There's an anger, a hurt that colours every moment of his life; that enables him to look a man in the eyes, smile politely, and pull a trigger.

And at this point in their relationship, Fadel's understanding of Style is that he's... well, kind of innocent. Especially in comparison to Fadel and Bison, and even Kant.

Style, who easily reveals facts about his life which Fadel already knows (winning a car tuning competition), making Fadel doubt his own instincts about Style hiding secrets. Style, who also reveals the things Fadel doesn't know, like the tender and secret pain of a mother lost to cancer (which, now that I think about it, Fadel may also know) and his worries about a father who "lost his bearings for a bit" (which he probably doesn't). Style, who tries to comfort Fadel in his own loss by offering a safe space and a sympathetic ear.

Style, who doesn't just see Fadel for his tragedy, but is asking to be given the chance to accept all of Fadel as a person. Style, who not only wants but has the capacity, to be the only person Fadel needs to rely on. Style who, despite the sea of differences between them, understands Fadel on a level that is so very foundational.

I'm going to slightly segue and mention something that may not resonate with everyone, but really hit me in the gut this episode: because I lost my father when I was 16 after he battled cancer for 2 painful years. And this revelation about Style has totally shifted and coloured everything Style has done in a new light for me. Because not only does this totally explain Style's sometimes almost stubbornly childish demeanour (it's common in adults who've had to 'grow up' too early), but also why Style shows seemingly random flashes of insight and maturity when they are most crucial. Notably, Style has this almost instinctive sense of when he needs to back off a sore point with Fadel that I couldn't quite put my finger on until this episode.

I've seen a few jokes about Style's awkward subject change, but I've actually got a friend who I hold very dear to my heart who was one of the only people to give me a sense of normalcy and comfort when my dad was on his last few days and then at his funeral. And part of that was the instinctive way she would know when I needed to just. Not be a grieving daughter for a few minutes. To get a small respite from the overwhelming hopelessness and sense of impending loss. To get a moment to breathe and gather my strength, because knowing I was never going to see my dad again, or hear his voice, or hold his hand was tearing me apart back then. Sometimes she'd talk to me about college drama, sometimes she'd introduce a new kpop video to me, sometimes she'd just ask me what I wanted to eat and take me to go have a meal with her. And sometimes there really just isn't anything else to say other than "I'm sorry." Nothing you say - nothing you can say - is going to ever, ever make this grief go away, and in most cases, it was better when people (especially those who couldn't really understand) didn't try.

And I think if you look at Fadel very closely, there's a moment of genuine surprise (Fadel wasn't expecting the subject change at all) and then... something that looks like fondness mixed with exhausted relief. Because I don't think Fadel was ready to talk about his parents yet. This was honesty he wasn't ready to give Style, mostly prompted because Style himself had willingly been so vulnerable that a part of Fadel wanted to reciprocate. But further down that path lies not only his darkest memories, but also the connection to the part of his life he is not willing to share with Style yet. So this subject change is a relief, it's a blessing, but it's also Style knowing when he shouldn't push any further with Fadel's fragile heart.

Which brings me back to how well the episode's theme of trust (both deserved and undeserved) was woven in this episode. This is true on multiple levels and characters but I'm not even going to attempt to touch Kant in this post because... Lord, that is beyond me at the moment. Someone else needs to do that, pretty please, so I can reblog it and scream.

It starts, somewhat unexpectedly, with Fadel asking for entrance into the intimate spaces of Style's life.

So, this episode was not about Fadel's fear of his own feelings, desires, or even affection for Style - that appears to be fully addressed in episode 4. I think that's why we see Fadel be so physically affectionate and indulgent of Style in this episode. He's come to terms with his lust for Style's body (hence his comfort in initiating sex), he's accepted Style as his boyfriend and so can enjoy Style's playful teasing (still reluctantly, but Fadel is still an introvert even if he's mostly enjoying Style's rambunctious nature), and give into Style's (and Bison's and Kant's) cajoling with relatively little fuss.

He's even comfortable toying with the edges of revealing his darker and more sinister side by reminding Style implicitly about how violent Fadel has the potential to be. Recall that Fadel knows Style knows some of his capacity for violence; he just doesn't know how very thoroughly Style is aware of the full scale of this truth. It does help that Style evidences no actual fear and, in fact, looks positively euphoric. Like, buddy, pal, dearest one... please control yourself.

And yet something very, very telling is the way the show makes it a point to depict Fadel very deliberately getting drunk during the double date. Even before the date has started, Fadel looks to be about half a beer in and we see him constantly drinking, drinking, drinking during the whole date. From the conversation about trust he has with Style while Kant and Bison are being off key and adorable about it, to after Kant leaves and Bison gets worried. And we've seen Fadel cope with emotional and mental distress with alcohol before, so we know that Fadel is internally fighting some kind of very intense battle even as he is also very clearly enjoying moments with Style on this date (most notably when they're dancing by the bowling lanes and when Style asks him to go home with him).

So here's my take: rather than being about love, this is about Fadel fighting to hold onto his own philosophy on relationships and trust. Because as much as I do believe Fadel believes he's telling the truth when he tells Style that 100% trust is "impossible", I think it's clear that's not what he wants.

What he wants is to finish this last job so that the only thing he can't be honest about with Style will finally stop being a factor in his life. What he wants is to fully and completely reciprocate the openness Style seems to be giving Fadel. What he wants is to switch off his brain and let his heart lead for once, to stop fighting a battle he has no desire to win anymore, only he can't. Trust (not love) is Fadel's final frontier, and one which he can't quite give up in spite of himself.

Which is why I think Fadel intentionally gets himself drunk here. Because he wants to let his guard down around Style. He wants to open himself fully, he wants to "lay himself bare" for Style, he wants Style to know the full truth and accept him anyway - and he gets so close, but can't quite get there - because he doesn't know that Style already has.

When Style says this, Fadel thinks it's empty words, not knowing that Style has long passed the bar Fadel thinks is insurmountable. And just like Style was able to offer safety and reassurance to the vulnerability Fadel was showing in episode 4, Style instinctively gets to the core of Fadel's darkest fears again:

Style: One day, I'll be your 100%.

This isn't (just) a promise that Style will wear Fadel's stubbornness down, or that Style will be worthy of Fadel's 100% (which, already, has me in tears, ngl). Beyond that, this is Style promising Fadel isn't ruined for this; that it isn't too late, that whatever hurts and wounds Fadel has can be made whole again. That the kind of honest and all-encompassing and unconditional trust which Fadel says is impossible can, in fact, be his. That Fadel still has the capacity to trust and be trusted the way he so desperately, painfully longs for.

I know a lot of people have said Style in this episode is writing cheques he has no ability to honour, but I think it's more layered than that. Because in a very significant and profound way, Style is wholly deserving of Fadel's trust. Because in all the ways that Fadel has ever known he should want, Style actually IS worthy of his trust. Style knows the truth Fadel is hiding, knows what this man is capable of, knows the danger of being in his arms, knows the likely nonexistent future Fadel has to offer him -- and wants him anyway. Style is a man who would stare into Fadel’s darkness and reach out first. Strip away the complication of Kant being blackmailed and dragging Style into his mission, and Style is literally perfect for Fadel. He is exactly what Fadel wants (and possibly has wanted for a very long time). He is, in fact, exactly what Fadel needs to ever experience anything beyond the shadow of a life he's had so far.

But oh, the cruel narrative means that Style is also, simultaneously, painfully undeserving of Fadel's trust; and this is something Style is very much aware of. I think that's why he's trying so very hard to be worthy in all the other ways he can be. Style's awareness of what Fadel is hiding enables Style to (counterintuitively) be completely honest about his feelings for and about Fadel even as he cannot reveal his motivations. So he gives Fadel as much honesty as he can: offers the vulnerability of his own pain and hurts; the comfort of his true understanding and acceptance.

And just as Fadel's vulnerability in the abandoned factory was met with Style choosing a form of physical connection that prioritised Fadel's pleasure (it's made very clear that Style is jerking Fadel off and that all his focus in that moment was on Fadel, not his own pleasure), so too is this moment met with Style very intentionally choosing to worship Fadel's body with all the tenderness and genuine emotional weight that Style wanted Fadel to have in their first time in the storeroom.

Because, crucially, this was Style giving Fadel the chance to lay himself at least physically bare. This is the closest either of them can get to full honesty with the secrets they both are keeping. It's why Style tries so very hard to show the care and adoration and genuine feelings he has for Fadel. Why he makes sure that the vulnerability of Fadel getting himself as drunk and as relaxed and as trusting as Fadel can allow himself to be is tied only to gentleness and tenderness and pleasure.

Because Style actually knows that Fadel can't (and shouldn't) trust him in the way Fadel truly wishes to.

And as much as I believe that Style genuinely means this from the bottom of his heart, the horrifying full truth is that it is Style that has the metaphorical knife hovering over Fadel's chest. He is the one with the capacity to actually give Fadel a new scar that would truly matter. He is, in fact, the only one Fadel wants to fully trust -- and this, along with Style's compromised heart, makes it so that the circumstances will doom them both.

[love-byers]

we all know about the parallel of mike hugging karen when he feels like he's lost will, but i've never seen anyone talk about the other parallels in the s1 and s3 heroes scenes. there are more than you think!

will's fake body being pulled out of the quarry VS will (+ the others) pulling out of the driveway for california

a close up of mike looking at both

mike leaving the scene on his bike after 'losing' will

in one, he has no hesitation. he gets his bike and doesn't look back. not at wills fake dead body, not at el (which would be odd if he knew he was in love with her then...), not at dustin and lucas, not at anyone. he keeps moving forward.

in the other, he is full of hesitation as the other bike away, not looking back. mike stays back and takes one last look at will's house, looking nervous, before hesitantly tearing his eyes away and biking off, trailing behind dustin lucas and max.

do i really need to explain the implications of that....

mike entering the wheeler house visibly upset after losing will, and karen immediately noticing

mike seeking out a hug from karen, something he rarely does

mike hugging karen

note how both clips end with mike moving/sinking deeper into the moment. i'm not sure what the best way to describe this is, but im talking about mike shoving his face into karen's shoulder in the s1 scene and his eyes flicking down in the s3 scene. i know it seems like it doesn't matter, but it does. sprinkling things like that in as a director is purposeful! it's showing how mike is processing the events. in s1 he sinks deeper into karen's comfort, further breaking down because he thinks will is dead. in s3 he doesn't do that. he is extremely still, eyes not moving as he is in shock. then his eyes do move at the last moment, showing he is further processing whatever event has occurred, transitioning from shock to really processing whatever happened.

raw emotion vs icy shock.

and oomf @reo-bylerwagon who is a film major told me that the way the camera tilts upward in the s3 clip is used to show that a realization has occurred, or that something new is being revealed. does that not PERFECTLY line up with:

1. the way mike seems extremely shocked as though he has realized something huge

2. the fact that LITERALLY over that moment is a hopper voice over where he says "to turn back the clock, to make things go back to how they were"

and 3. the way he behaves in s4 (being weird about touching will, rink o mania, etc.)

so yeah, these are definitely parallels through and through and it's really interesting. mike has lost will in both, but in different ways. his reactions say a lot about how he's processing the events and how he views them/his relationships.

also reminder that this is not delusional in the slightest because heroes has only played twice and it's in these two sequences.

and to anyone thinking "well they're just trying to show that mike deeply cares for will, just not in a romantic way!"

......

why in the fresh FUCK would they eat up SO MUCH screen time to show that mike platonically cares about will, rather than use that time to develop his relationship with el and, i don't know, show that he loves her??? why would they feed into will's unrequited love like this??? spoiler alert: THEY AREN'T.

that would be doing WAY too much for a relationship that will end in an amicable split so one can get married and one can get over his deep seeded love for the other and navigate the (extremely homophobic) world alone.

like yall are very clearly not writers or creatives in the slightest 💀💀💀 any writer (or anyone with the faintest creative/analytical bone in their body) will immediately understand why that's fucking dumb and makes no sense. yall are just heteronormative af and instead of admitting that it's greatly affecting your perception of the characters you double and TRIPLE down until you sound like a homophobic disaster

also

season 1 - heroes plays (when mike feels like he lost will)

season 2 - heroes does not play

season 3 - heroes plays (when mike feels like he lost will)

seasons 4 - heroes does not play

season 5 - heroes will play...? perhaps the original david bowie version? and byler will finally kiss as though nothing could fall and the shame will be on the other side? and they can be heroes? just for one day?

so yeah anyways byler endgame

[mossangelll]

yandere!viktor x reader

machine herald controlling you you to the point of infantilisation⁉️

this is probably on the fringe for a lot of people but the idea of a yandere going to such extremes because they “know what’s best for you” and experiencing such a dehumanising loss of agency scratches an itch for me

tw: forced age regression, uncomfortable dynamics, forced drugging, toxic behaviour

“Do you want the crayons or the storybook, hm?” he holds them up to you in either hand, “Speak up for me. I know my darling can do it.” If you didn’t know any better about him and the horrific things he’s capable of, you would honestly believe the gentle cadence paired with his own unique twang was calming and paternal.

What a sick fuck.

He had that smarmy grin plastered to his face as he watched you in silence, waiting for a response that obviously would never come. After all, he made you a makeshift pacifier that was strapped inside your mouth using soft fabric that also wrapped around your hands. He took your voice and mobility all in one fell swoop and you were helpless against him.

“Aw, poor little thing. You must be tired, eh?” His cold metal hand comes to press against your forehead, thumb easing away the tension etched there.

He hoists you up with ease from where you were sat at your miniature table and carries you over to a large mattress in the corner of your room, what he’s lovingly dubbed your “crib” due to the child-friendly gates surrounding it, and places you amongst the sea of soft plushies and pillows.

He sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and smooths the stray hairs that have come out out your immaculate hair do, one he did for you, of course. He wants to be a reassuring presence for you but as you lay before him, you feel bile rise in your throat.

The frustration continues to well up and your eyes burn with unshed tears until you can’t hold them back anymore and you sob. But even your cries come out muffled and you’re not able to truly express the anguish that rages inside of you, a freedom that is your birthright.

Why, out of everyone, did you end up with this psycho that treats you like a child?

Viktor lets out a soft gasp and immediately crouches down by your side. “Shh darling, everything will be ok. Seeing you like this makes me very upset, you know.” He coos but the wide smile he doesn’t even bother to hide tells a different story.

He leaves you for just a moment, fearful of what kind of accidents you could get into in his absence, he once said. You rolled your eyes at the time, still fighting for your independence with venomous words and sharp rebuttals, and was promptly punished for your disobedience. It wasn’t the first time and definitely won’t the last, but now you’re more accepting of your position with Viktor’s - better to make your life easier by giving into his unusual desires than be punished again and again and again until you finally learn your lesson.

He comes back with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, cooled just enough that it wouldn’t burn your mouth.

He pulls a vial full of a pale yellow liquid out of his pocket and drops two splashes of it into your drunk before giving it a good stir. He does this in plain view of you, knowing that there’s nothing you can do to stop him. Though your untrusting gaze cuts right through him, he continues on not caring about what you think is “moral”. He scoffs at such black and white thinking; you don’t have the knowledge and power he does, so how could you ever care for yourself the way he can?

“Drink up, darling. You’ll feel right as rain in no time.” He doesn’t give you the option of declining as he’s quick to pull out your pacifier and press the mug against your lips, cradling your head forwards so you don’t choke.

The hot chocolate is rich and velvety, smooth and indulgent with a slight edge you’re not quite able to place. Something of his invention, no doubt. Viktor often forbade you from eating too many sweets so this was clearly his way of placating you, baiting you into being on your best behaviour.

It’s unnerving, the way his curious amber eyes stare into yours with no intention of looking away, as if you were a perplexing equation he needed to find the solution to. You were simply something he needed to fix, a small stepping stone that meant nothing in his greater plan to solve humanity’s suffering.

Your head feels cloudy as you slowly fall into a smaller version of yourself, one that’s scared of the dark and cries whenever Viktor leaves.

You hate that he’s reduced you to a shadow of your former self, forcing you to act like a child while you frantically grip onto the disintegrating remnants of your past life. You hate the way your eyes start to flicker as drowsiness engulfs each of your senses - you especially hate feeling like you’re rolling over and simply allowing him do as he pleases, but as much as you wish to protest and scream you’re rendered still by whatever concoction he spiked your drink with.

Either way, he would probably get some depraved enjoyment out of you having a tantrum, since it only goes to prove that you need him to look after you and you’d rather not supply him with more fodder for the fire.

Viktor begins to hum a childhood song from the undercity but when the melody reaches your ears, it’s dampened like your head is submerged deep underwater.

He reaches for your hand which you limply grab onto with what little strength you have left, “There, there, little one. Close your eyes and sleep. You’re safe here.”

And sleep you do.

[fallenclan]

wow! it feels weird for this moon (and ravenstar's leadership/arc to finally be over)... i have some Thoughts, particularly about the exiled trio!

patchback -- i like that, of the three, she's the only one who looks genuinely angry. the same is true when ravenstar is killed. levi and sleepydawn look more surprised in that instance as well. given her history, this is the SECOND time patchback has been exiled. i imagine that she enjoys being a part of a clan. possibly, being exiled for the first time was the worst thing that ever happened to her, so when cherrystar gave her a chance, patchback chose to try and "adapt," to be whoever cherrystar would accept. but then ravenstar gave her the room to be herself... surely, with his support, and levi as deputy, then patchback will never have to fear exile again? ha! wrong.

levi -- levi only joined fallenclan after realizing an opportunity to hold power awaited him. i highly doubt levi cares about clan life. i think he's disappointed/annoyed, but not particularly "devestated" in the way that i imagine patchback is. levi will just... move on with his life, and try to find power somewhere else. i think he and patchback will stick together, since they're friends, and there's power in numbers. i believe levi likes power, but doesn't like to be the one making decisions (he likes his second-in-command spot imo). so, with ravenstar gone, patchback becomes his first-in-command. better yet, i imagine levi enjoyed ravenstar, but didn't like him. levi actually likes patchback, so being her second-in-command, backing her up, or better yet, being her partner is especially appealing.

sleepydawn -- he just looks numb. after ravenstar's death, i imagine he quickly resigned himself to what his fate would be. it's also noteworthy that his mate, ashblink, won't be joining him. ashblink could easily have chosen to leave with sleepydawn, but didn't. their relationship felt very shallow from the beginning. while i do think they care about each other, i think sleepydawn's loyalty to ravenstar would always come over his affection for ashblink, and ashblink would ultimately realize that sleepydawn isn't looking for love. within their interactions, ashblink is shown being caring/supportive (as best he can) towards sleepydawn, who looks bored/disinterested or rebuffs him. sleepydawn doesn't know how to be in a relationship. he needs to sort his own shit out before having a boyfriend. i think there's a 50/50 chance that sleepydawn will set out on his own, and try to "find himself" while also seething in bitterness and grief, versus deciding to throw in his lot with patchback and levi.

silly idea: patchback starts her own clan (ravenclan? after the first cat to ever """accept""" her for who she is) with levi as deputy. sleepydawn joins. teeheehee. it would be funny, but in all likelihood, i think the three of them will just have to face reality and Cope rather than getting any sort of resolution they would have hoped for.

anyway, yay wolfstar!!! yay kestrelfeather! yay pondshine and flamefall and cloudtuft!! yippee!! i love how happy wolfstar looks for once, and i was delighted to see broccoli and pepperswipe <3 i know sweetclover is so proud... but also trying to be there for her parents

also finchbeak kits next moon! is the father chumtail or flamefall? or a mysterious, third cat... comment down below! /j

-🐉

MY GOD dragon once again you have hit the nail perfectly on the head... i don't even need to make an explanation post you got it in one. incredible

[duyuforu]

Pick-a-Card: What is next in Love?

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Pile 1 - ₊˚⊹♡

Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself

Pile 1, hi! I want to warn that your reading is a little heavy. I got a pretty strong message so please really take what resonates, and mostly trust yourself and your guts. Cards are saying you could have searched for a lot of seriousness in your relationships lately, perhaps wanting to settle down, you may also be serious about a certain person right now, or you are with someone and you desire to see it run far away and for a long time. You want to have long term plans with someone at least. But perhaps you either haven't found the one yet, you may have been very disappointed lately, particularly in romance or because of potential lovers, and you may feel lonely, or like you'll never find what you are looking for. You could have felt betrayed before, or you are currently feeling this way. I see strongly it didn't workout with someone, and perhaps it looks like a failure or a disappointment, yet cards are saying it's something good, you'll soon realize your luck to not be involved longer with this person.

What is next in love is that you may realize soon those failures and disappointments were to teach you a certain lesson. If you recently have felt betrayed because of someone in your romantic area, you'll soon understand why, you'll have the truth, a light. You'll also see the situation from a different point of view. You'll feel like instead of losing someone or something, you actually won. You'll see the good side of it. Though, you need to also remember that in order to attract new things, you often need to get rid of what is currently wrong in your life. You'll learn this valuable lesson, and you'll want to indeed change, get rid of what doesn't serve you anymore. Cards are also telling me someone new will come into your life soon, someone with whom it would be possible to start a new story with, someone who also wants a long term and serious partnership...

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.

Pile 2 - ₊˚⊹♡

Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself

Pile 2! Welcome to your reading. Well, this looks pretty good for you. I see that what is next in love for you is that you may encounter someone, a romantic interaction. If you already have someone, please take as it resonates, but I see a lot of flirting, exciting moments coming. You'll message or perhaps already messaging someone, you'll text a lot, call a lot, perhaps also spend a lot of time together, dating, etc. You could feel feelings for this person, you'll feel like your heart is bumping already. You could feel safe with this person, you can feel like you can trust them. But perhaps you'll feel like things are moving too fast, you could also feel a little scared, anxious since you can have the sensation things are too beautiful to be true. Cards are saying perhaps due to past traumas or bad experiences, this is a normal situation and a normal reaction. But perhaps it's time to let go of those, I do not see any bad vibes from this person at least. You could feel on defensive mode sometimes because of them. Yet, you will not need to worry for your heart.

At least, you'll realize that eventually, that indeed, you can trust this person. Yet, once you do and relax more, things could unfold quite fast after. I see a lot of fun times and sensuality, so perhaps if you are in age to do so, you could have more steamy times, and a lot of more hot moments with this person. Things can get more passionate and more physical at least. Though, do not be scared. If it does go far, this will not go without a more serious engagement. I do see some steamy moments coming, yet stability and seriousness go with it. You'll perhaps have this person asking you to be more serious with them as well. It can seem to be a little scary, but at least, I'll tell you, this person sees very serious future with you! Good luck!

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.

Pile 3 - ₊˚⊹♡

Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself

Pile 3, hi! So, you could be on your own right now, single, and that you may want something coming or not, you could actually be more going with the flow, focusing on you, your life, etc. You could also want to know yourself better, perhaps also love yourself more, work more on it, you could also want to appreciate just being with yourself more. You could think again of your desires for a relationship, what you truly want. Yet you could actually come to a conclusion. You could realize something with this thinking. You could realize what you truly want. Yet, if there is someone you already have feelings for, someone who has long departed from your life, or someone you may have not realized you have feelings for yet, this may be a good time for it. You could realize it's okay to feel sad about your love life, but you could also realize it's okay to miss that person. You may accept you are still connected to them, that you still love them, and that the love for them is different from all the other people you loved before.

This is a very specific message, so really if it does not, change your pile :) But cards are saying you may reflect on your past mistakes, perhaps even realizing and thinking of what failed before. You could realize you may have met the one for you before, you may already know them, or you may have a strong desire to reunite with someone specific, perhaps from the past. You can realize you haven't forgotten about them at all, perhaps even if you have tried to move on from them. You love them, very much. You may accept those feelings. Though I also want to add, something may happen with this person. They may also come back, or someone may express their love to you somehow, perhaps you'll have a good surprise. But this could also be a way you'll see you have feelings for them too.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.

Pile 4 - ₊˚⊹♡

Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself

Pile 4, welcome to your reading! Pile 4 you could be currently single right now, you could also feel quite good, happy with your current life situation, at least, when it comes to your romance. You could go with the flow. Yet, something may happen soon to you in love, and you could have full influence on it. A person from the past may come back, someone with whom you thought it was over with, someone you thought forgot about you, someone you have felt like you had a strong connection with. A revival could happen. You may have thought this person and you had a strong thing going on, perhaps you thought you were soulmates, twin flames, or anything else like this, your souls had a link. You could have felt like something failed between you two in the past, that you dates or not. This person could have hurt you with their actions, and you could feel like you need to be carful with them now, at least you'll want to be careful because you do not want this to happen again.

This person seems to want to come back with good intentions, they feel the link between you two as well. They want to speak with you, be in contact with you again because it may be harder for them to be far from you, or to be in no contact. They want to reconnect, explain themselves. They want to make you see they do not want to hurt you anymore, and they have truly changed. They see you as someone they hold dearly in their heart. They have indeed become more mature than before. You could want to be careful, take your time with them, little by little to be sure it's true and that they are not lying. This person is in love for sure tho, and with you. They want to offer you their cup. They have good intentions, they want to settle down with you. What is next in love as a key word is "hope". You'll choose, but you'll need to go slowly, to reassure yourself. Good luck!

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.

back to index ; ask ; requests

[capseycartwright]

see the lights, and hang the stockings

Eddie finds out that Buck has never ever had a Christmas stocking of his own. He's very determined to change that and share a few Diaz family traditions.

ao3 link

for week three of @winterofbuddie - holiday history.

Eddie knew he was inclined to go a little overboard at Christmastime. It was his favourite holiday, and he’d inadvertently (and very happily, might he add) made it Christopher’s favourite holiday too, their house always filled to the brim with decorations, Christmas music playing on a loop as soon as Thanksgiving was over, and he and Christopher agreed it was socially acceptable to dive right into the Christmas of it all.

Eddie loved Christmas, was the point, and even now, when Christopher was a relatively grumpy teenager, so did his son, Christopher happy to spend one of his precious Saturday evenings decorating the tree with Eddie, and Buck, instead of hanging out with his friends. 

Well, to a point. 

They’d gotten the tree decorated before Christopher had sneaked off to his bedroom, the chatter of his teenager calling his friends comforting background noise as he and Buck carried on the decorating duties. There had been a time where Eddie had worried he’d never have a house filled with the noise of Christopher simply living his life again, and so he was grateful for it - even when he’d hear Christopher up chatting far too late, his bedtime long past. 

Eddie only got to have his kid be a kid for so long, and he’d lived through a dark few months where he hadn’t gotten to have his son around at all - so, he could be forgiven for being a little lenient with him sometimes. 

“Mulled wine,” Buck hummed by way of explanation, pressing a mug into Eddie’s waiting hands. Eddie liked getting to do this, decorate, with Buck. Buck was his best friend in the whole world, and Eddie had done enough work unpicking a lifetime of repression to know that his feelings for Buck went a bit further than solely platonic, but even putting the whole, being in love with him, thing aside, Eddie just loved to spend time with the other man. 

“Thank you,” Eddie hummed, inhaling the comforting smell of spices, the aroma of mulled wine sinking into every inch of Eddie’s house. Christmas baking would join the party soon, he knew, because Buck was determined to make all of their nearest and dearest cookie boxes this year, like he’d seen on TikTok, and Eddie knew that his kitchen would be the stage of choice when Buck committed to executing his twelve-point plan for perfecting cookie gifts. 

“I think it needs more cardamon,” Buck admitted, a tiny frown furrowing the space between his eyebrows. Eddie sort of always wanted to kiss it. 

“It’s perfect,” Eddie disagreed, taking another sip of his drink. “You make the best mulled wine.”

An adorable flush appeared on Buck’s cheeks. Just another thing Eddie wanted to kiss. “You’re an unreliable reviewer,” he shook his head. “You like everything I make. I can never tell what’s really good, and what’s just okay, because you tell me everything is good.”

Eddie grinned, setting his mug on the fireplace. “That’s because I think everything is good,” he shrugged. It wasn’t a lie. Buck was a fantastic cook, and a great baker, and Eddie’s house was ground zero for many delicious experiments - the cheesy, twisty garlic bread Buck had made for their Italian themed family dinner had been a recent highlight. Buck’s sourdough starter even lived in Eddie’s fridge, not his own, for crying out loud. 

Pressing play on his carefully curated Christmas playlist, the sound of Wham! and Last Christmas filling the living room, Eddie passed Buck a snowglobe, his best friend indulging and setting it down on the coffee table, where it always lived. It was a cheap, silly thing that Eddie had bought the first Christmas he’d been out of the army, from the Dollar General, but it held so much sentimental memory now, Eddie didn’t have the heart to throw it out. Buck had bought them a beautiful snowglobe a few years previously, from a small business based on the Northern Californian coast, and that was pride of place on the fireplace, but the cheap one still had a home - different eras of Eddie’s life all coming together here, in LA, in the first place he’d really chosen for himself. 

“I love your decorations,” Buck hummed, careful fingers tracing the lettering on one of the tree decorations - it was an imprint of Christopher’s tiny baby hand, the black writing announcing to the world that it had been his very first Christmas. “They all have so much meaning.”

Eddie hummed. “You know me,” he joked. “I’m a sentimental old fool.” 

“No - it’s good. Great, even,” Buck paused, for a minute. “My parents' Christmas tree had a colour scheme, growing up. There were no sentimental ornaments - only these picture perfect gold and red baubles. I broke one - I think I was seven, or eight - and my mom yelled at me for so long that it made me cry. She said they didn’t make the ornaments anymore, so she’d have to change them all now, because of me. I didn’t think she had meant it, but the next year, she’d thrown out all the red and gold, and we had green and silver.”

Eddie knew that Buck had grown up with emotionally neglectful parents, but sometimes, in moments like this, when Buck made an admission about the reality of his childhood, it really struck him how bad it must have been for Buck, growing up - how lonely, and sad, he must have been. It was amazing, really, how Buck turned out to be so kind, and wonderful, given the house he grew up in. How Buck was still Buck, despite everything he’d been through. “Buck, I…”

“I’m sorry,” Buck shrugged it off, like he always did. Buck never wanted to burden other people, and sometimes it made Eddie want to yell, and scream -  it made him want to beg Buck to burden him with every thought and feeling he had. Eddie wanted to be there for him - he wanted to know what Buck had for breakfast every morning, and what he thought came in the afterlife, and everything in between. “I don’t know why I said that. Tonight’s meant to be happy, and here I am, making it all about me.”

read the rest on ao3

[starburstminibot]

Ok, seeing the post about the playlist, you mentioned how Breakdown only gets his act together after finding out that Bee was carrying

So it got me thinking (and this has actually been in my mind since i first came across the au tbh), but how was it while Bee was like, carrying?? There's the fact that, at first, many of the bots probably don't like Breakdown too since, well, he was not the best bf let's be honest.

Idk, I'm just curious to how things were before Breakcheck came to see the world

(Im going out of town for a week and cant draw so im just answering this with a straight up fanfiction-esk paragraph I’m so sorry wish I could be artistic for you anon)

Long story short: the Autobots are very forgiving but they can also be petty motherfuckers.

I mean they welcomed Megatron among their ranks and treat him (for the most part) as an equal and sometimes even a friend. Of course, Megatron earned that trust after years and years of repentance.

I imagine Breakdown is going through a similar arc. He’s never really been THAT loyal to the Decepticon cause. He just… kinda ended up there and didn’t care enough to do anything about it. He views Autobots as these goody, righteous people that he doesn’t feel like he belongs with. So really… what’s left besides Decepticons (considering yourself a neutral at one point was pretty much a death wish. A faction was the only way to acquire any sort of Energon or medical attention. Something Optimus tried hard to avoid, but the reality was safety in numbers.) the only kinship Breakdown ever felt was with the Stunticons… and they’ve been scattered to who knows where… if they’re even still alive.

Except he did have one friend. A friend he’s somehow managed to keep despite being on opposite sides of the war. He tried to convince Bee to join the Decepticons a few times but it was never with genuine intent. Bee was too good for the Cons; Breakdown knew that. He asked to get a rile out of him more than anything. Of course Bee would retort with his own argument of why BD should defect. He was serious about it… but Breakdown knew his place. He’d already done too much…

Now the war is over. And the leader of his faction doesn’t even believe in the cause anymore. Now, Breakdown’s never been a fan of Megatron anyways, but he sure as hell is pissed off when he abandons them to go be buddies with the Autobots. Maybe Breakdown is a little jealous (Of course, he’d never admit it) That Megatron, possibly the cruelest and most unforgiving of them all, is allowed to be redeemed.

He feels betrayed. All the Decepticons do really… He feels like he was led down a path that would only end in self destruction and at the last moment, the one who was paving the way jumped ship, leaving them all to suffer the consequences alone.

He never even wanted this.

But it’s way too late now. He dug this grave and he’s going to see to it that he’s buried in it. But despite the betrayal, and most of the Decepticons now stabbing each other in the back, trying to claim whatever power they can while holding on to this flimsy cause they can barely call a functioning faction, he still has Bee… who is maybe more than just a friend at this point but that’s a lot of feelings Breakdown isn’t ready to unpack.

And he still runs every time it feels a little too good to be true. Still proclaims his loyalty to the Decepticons because he’s too stubborn to admit he’s on a sinking ship. And he still keeps his distance because he refuses to take Bumblebee down with him when it finally goes under.

And maybe they’ve got a fling going… and maybe the autobots start to catch on. It doesn’t matter though, Breakdown doesn’t stick around long enough to see their sneers.

Until… he finds out Bee’s carrying that is… because damn he may not be the best bot in the galaxy but he’s not a complete deadbeat.

And when it hits him… that he’s going to be a sire… well maybe… he start’s sticking around to see the sneers. He hears the mumbles of disapproval. And boyyy does it make him so angry at first. How dare these holier-than-thou bots. They don’t know him or what he’s had to do to survive. How many comrades he’s lost thanks to them. They don’t know what Bee means to him. They don’t know just how much he loves Bumblebee. How he would lay down his spark for him in a klick.

Then Breakdown questions… Does Bee even know that?

From then on… Breakdown realizes, preserving his ego isn’t worth this. He has a chance now. A real honest chance. To do better… to have the life he actually wants… with the one bot who hasn’t ever given up on him.

He wants it so bad.

So he puts up with the comments and the obvious distrust. Because he’s willing to put in the work it takes to earn it. He’s going to prove how much he wants this. He’s going to prove how much he cares. He’s going to prove he is capable of doing better… and maybe along the way he’ll learn… he’s deserving of better too…

Breakdown is lucky Bumblebee has always been a little spoiled because it didn’t take too much convincing for the autobots to give him a shot. To attempt to accept him into their ranks.

He thought Optimus would be the worst of it. The one who practically raised the bot Breakdown knocked up. And for a while it is. Optimus lectures him every chance he gets. Any small hiccup, any little mistake. He doesn’t go easy on breakdown. Optimus at least pretends to be polite about it, or at least professional.He doesn’t yell, or make unnecessary insults. His words are always very honest (which makes them that much harder to hear) but Breakdown will take it… he’ll sit through it, no matter how hard he has to bite his tongue against saying something he’ll regret. He knows how thin the ice is. But he’ll do it for Bee.

The others are a little more brutal… Elita especially so… they are more sharp with their words (and sometimes their blasters) letting him know just what they think of him.

But no… the worst of all… is Megatron. Because Megatron is probably the only bot in the whole faction who looks at him and empathizes. Breakdown doesn’t want empathy. Especially not from the damn bot who betrayed him. Megatron doesn’t give lectures, he doesn’t verbally or physically abuse him when he steps out of line. He barely even raises his voice. And it pisses Breakdown off more than anything. Sometimes he slips up in front of Megatron just to push his boundaries, just to see if he can break this peaceful facade the ex-brutal-dictator seems to be taking. He’s witnessed the warlord beat bots into scrap for far less… and yet… Megatron won’t. Megatron seems to be attempting to guide Breakdown, to offer a new start to their relationship, and Primus Breakdown wants nothing to do with it. He’d rather be lectured and assigned extra training.

And it takes a long while… longer than Bee’s carrying term, and a little while into Breakcheck’s sparklinghood for the Autobots to really start to come around to him. Optimus’ lectures seem to have a bit of fondness to them. And perhaps Breakdown listens a bit more earnestly and takes to heart some of the genuine advice the Prime gives him. And maybe the sparring with Elita has turned less from a one-sided fight and into an enjoyable workout. And MAYBE… he doesn’t intentionally push Megatron as much, and has come to a realization of his own that his Megatron… is nothing like the one who betrayed him… and perhaps there is more in common between them than he’d like to admit.

And when people look at him now, he’s not just the Con Bumblebee has been sneaking around with. He’s a Sire… and a devoted Conjux…

And maybe this is what he’s always wanted. And he can be deserving of it too.

[lost-romantique]

Stolas - Five Stages of Grief (Sinsmas)

One thing I don't hear many people talk about is the fact that Sinsmas illustrates Stolas learning and accepting his new reality that he's thrusted into, and through it he goes through the Five Stages of Grief. I think it's also important to note that Stolas' grief is due largely in part to not having Octavia around, and the fact that he's been off his antidepressants the entire month.

Denial- A temporary response to loss, where you might not fully comprehend the reality that your in.

Day by Day illustrates the very first month Stolas is spent living with Blitz, he goes about the day(s), living life with Blitz and while he's happy to be with Blitz, you can tell that he's also struggling.

Listen to the lyrics:

Keep it calm, life goes on, and on, and on Nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong So why do I still feel this way?

Stolas is living life with Blitz domestically, going out on dates here and there, seeing how he lives, seeing how imps live, and he's just at a loss, confused, not really knowing what to do. But he pretends that everything is okay, everything has to be okay.

Anger- Stolas letting all his anger and grief from the current situation he's in out and about.

Stolas has what is essentially a mental breakdown in the span of a minute: breaking Blitz's phone (Stolas sweetie don't break your bfs phone, that's his job), ripping and tearing stuff apart, blaming himself for his stupidity for having ruined his life in order to fulfill his fantasies.

Note: When Stolas calls himself stupid for fulfilling a fantasy, I honestly think he's talking about the context of him and Blitz and their transactional arrangement. Remember, during the very beginning of their transactional relationship, Stolas was very much chasing a fantasy.

Bargaining- Making promises to do better or be better whether it be to a higher power or to yourself.

Stolas begging Octavia to listen to him, to what he has to say. Stolas is extremely desperate to get Octavia to listen to him, to get Octavia back in his life.

"No! No! Never Via, sweetie please, you have always been the only good thing in my life." "I love you Via so, so much. Please sweetie let me explain..."

Depression- A feeling of dread that feels like it will last forever, but is a necessary part of the healing process.

Stolas, immediately after getting home from the palace, sits down on the couch just to process everything. Stolas spends, what looks to be hours, sitting on contemplation- occasionally resting his head on Blitz's horns.

Note: I love how Blitz stays close to Stolas the entire time, never leaving his side, except to help decorate for the Sinsmas Party and to change into his Sinsmas sweater. Even when the Sinsmas party starts, and he starts looking content, he's always with Stolas the entire time.

Acceptance- You learn to live with the loss and acknowledge that both sorrow and joy can coexist.

Blitz helps Stolas learn to accept this new way of life, and for a moment he helps him forget all the pain as he leads them into a very romantic dance.

Stolas, for the first time since losing his daughter, is able to laugh freely and find joy in that moment, and it's all thanks to Blitz.

Stolas looks out into the sky as he realizes that this is his life now. From now on, he will have to live life of a commoner with his only solace being Blitz. The moment Stolas closes his eyes is the moment he accepts this new reality of his.

I love the tragic irony of Stolas spending the entirety of Season 2 pining and chasing after an emotionally constipated lizard to the point that he is unknowingly hurting his daughter in the process. But by the end of that season, he gets the unconditional love of the man he's in love with, only to lose the one thing he thought he would never lose- his daughter's love.

I do want to point out that I do feel bad for Stolas, but I also understand very well that this was his choice in the end. And from now on he has to live with that choice, to live with the consequences.

[komelliko]

manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader (& aventurine!)

summary: You get drinks with Aventurine, only to be interrupted by a rather cross Sunday. wc: 1.7k - cw for drinking, stalking... and heavy worldbuilding. oops! a/n: The guillemets «» are used to indicate Sunday's telepathy!

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 (nsfw) / part 4 / part 5 ---

Most bars and hostelries in Golden Hour had been established long after the rebellions has ended and the prohibition on alcohol was lifted. The Pendulum Speakeasy, however, was an exception. You had no reservations in believing that Aventurine had every inch of Golden Hour memorized—gambled at every table, met every bartender, sweet-talked every showgirl—so when he leads you to The Pendulum without even stopping to check for directions, it only feels fitting. "You go out drinking often, doll?" You shake your head bashfully, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "No, that's never appealed to me. Sunday took me to dinner earlier this week, but other than that... I just sort of like to keep to myself in my free time." You look down, knowing full well your outfit corroborates this—Other than the dress Sunday had delivered to you, the only things you can wear out are your work clothes. Fitted white pants, structured blazers, things of that sort. Aventurine's interest piques. "Oh, he took you to dinner?"

"Well—Yes," you concede. "-No? ...Yes. It was a work meeting." "Yes, but still. Never took him as the type." Aventurine wraps one arm around your waist, headlines flashing in his head: 'Stoneheart Missing After Scandal In Penacony', 'Rendezvous With The Family Gone Wrong'. He'd previously assumed that his plans would involve catching Sunday's ire somehow, but not yet considered to this degree.

Still, he surmises, he has faith in his odds. "Ah, but don't you worry your pretty little head about work tonight," he adds. "What I care about is you having fun." Finally winding the final turn into The Pendulum's alleyway, Aventurine thrusts his other hand into his pocket to pull out a small poker chip. You assume by the logo in the center and the golden sheen on its edges that Aventurine had stolen it—Maybe he'd slipped it into his sleeve after a game to take as a trophy. You'd heard of his exploits from time to time, and you can only assume the usual prizes of victory has lost their luster in his eyes. Perhaps he wishes to gamble for more unconventional things: Favors, promises, human lives. Aventurine knocks on the door, and a small set of twinkling Pepeshi eyes peers back at him from an open slat. You're sure the Pepeshi must be standing on a stool of some sort for them to be at Aventurine's eye level. "Are you welcome?" a squeaky voice asks. Aventurine smiles, flipping the poker chip in his hand up into the air one more time before catching it in his palm. "Very. 'Lady Arctus has saved me a table'." There was no need for any speakeasy in Penacony to still work on the password system—especially for one as well known as Pendulum's—but you assume that requiring it lent itself to some atmosphere. The atmosphere of a place like The Pendulum was its primary selling point, after all. When all of the drinks came from the same suppliers and every band played in whatever bar had an open stage, there was nothing else they could use to distinguish themselves but looks. Aventurine led you through The Pendulum by the hand, the two of you passing under a large chandelier decorated with fifty or some Halovian statuettes, each static crystal figurine draped in flowing cloth and ebulliently presenting sparkling glass bulbs of lights to the crowd of guests below them. The chandelier shook and twisted from the rumble of a car passing over the Speakeasy, sending an explosion of reflected rainbows around the room like a burst of confetti. As the two of you reached the bar, Aventurine lets you take your seat first, the barstool squeaking against the wooden floorboards. Once he takes his own seat, Aventurine raises his hand to call the bartender over. “An Interplanetary, if you may,” he asks. “And for my guest here—“ Aventurine looks back to you, his tongue tucked into his cheek as he stalls for your answer. “Pika White with an olive.” “Pika White with an olive,” he emphatically repeats to the bartender. Once the two of you are alone, he turns to add “My, how distinguished of you.”

You flush, eyes down looking at the velvet carpets over the floor. “Oh, no, that’s just what I got used to ordering for lunch meetings. Back when I started out at The Family, the easiest way to get people to like you was to drink with them.” You laugh under your breath, commenting to yourself “You know what they say, ‘Penacony is just one big party’.” “Indeed I do.” Aventurine’s own gaze is caught by the gleam of the poker table in the center of The Pendulum, itself swarmed with a small crowd of betters. He leans in to you, pointing towards the table. “—How’s about I show those guys what a real game of poker looks like?”  Aventurine gets up before you can even truly answer, but you follow anyways, adding “I don’t think anyone here hasn’t seen one of your games.” He shoots back a smile. “They could do with a reminder.” … … … … Aventurine wins nearly 40,000 credits before finally backing out, and you can’t stop yourself from hanging your head low in embarrassment on his behalf as he howls with laughter at his own victory. While the group of incensed Pepeshi that lost to Aventurine mostly sent him his winnings digitally, Aventurine finds a way to slip an extra 100-credit bill or two into your back pocket amidst the chaos anyways. “What a scene,” he remarks to himself, taking a sip of his Interplanetary. “Wouldn’t be a night out without a good game, would it? You saw that one guys’ face when he saw I still had a straight flush.” You cradle your glass of Pika gingerly in your hand, smiling into it. Between it and the sweet sound of the trumpet from The Pendulum’s stage, your mind is drawn between too many things to respond with more than a good-natured sigh. That is, until a noise cuts through over the sound of the big band and the chatter lingering around the bar. « ♪♫♪♫♫♪ » "Did you hear that...?" you ask, almost speaking it under your breath. "Hear what?" The whistling was probably in your head. It was the same melody you'd heard the other night while at dinner with Sunday, after all. « [Y/N]? Is that you? » You whip your head around to find the source of the voice, only to realize you can't tell which direction it came from. Unfortunately, its owner makes himself known quickly enough. "Aventurine of the Interastral Peace Corporation," your boss says. "I'm not shocked at all to see you here." Aventurine leans over in his seat, putting himself between you and Sunday. Maybe even... shielding you? Still, there was nothing in his voice that makes it seem like he finds Sunday a threat. "Been a while, Feathers," Aventurine grins. "Had to make sure you're not working your staff to the bone." Sunday smiles in a way that almost looks forced. "Never," he replies. "Though, I should warn you. It's against policy for Oak Family employees of a certain rank to consume alcohol of any kind. As the law that upholds Penacony, we must never let ourselves be of ill-affected mind." "That's never been enforced, sir." You feel a sense of shame splash over you the moment you finish your sentence, clasping your hand over your mouth as if you'd just cursed Sunday in front of his mother, or even broken a child's toy. You look back up to him to see if he would take the correction in stride. "Perhaps because until now, it has not been necessary to enforce it." Sunday inhales, his smile squinting his golden eyes as he looks back down at you in what you could only fear was contempt. "I don't want to have to report one of the hardest working people in Penacony for such negligence in following the rules."

"Sunday." Aventurine has fully moved in to separate Sunday from you. "I'm the one who invited [Y/N] out for drinks. They're not the one you should be having problems with here," the gambler sneers. "And what does it matter to you if your beloved secretary spends an hour or two in other company? Scared they'll share a bit too much?" Sunday's smile drops completely. It almost feels crazy to say, but you start to wish he was back to that unprofessionally-touchy, overly-sweet self you were used to seeing. You were able to ignore it because you were used it to it: You're not used to this. "If you think you will achieve any of your ends through [Y/N], Aventurine, you are sorely mistaken," Sunday scowls. "My employees are not playing chips for you to leverage at your behest, especially not my secretary." His golden eyes seem to pierce right through Aventurine's own as he asks "Have I made myself abundantly clear?" "That you have," the gambler replies through grit teeth. "Just let me finish my drink in peace, Feathers." Sunday finally shoots a glance to you before exiting the bar. You push your drink away, having lost all desire to finish it. "Sorry, Venny. I didn't even consider..." "Aw, doll, don't sweat it. Just not your lucky day," he shrugs. "But I'd be a chump to let him walk all over you." His voice lowers to a mutter as he adds "—Fuck, where's Gallagher when you need him? That boss of yours needs a good kick in the pants. Maybe his pretty face, too, if the first doesn't hit him right." "Aventurine, don't." Aventurine sighs, his grip on his glass tightening. "...Sorry, doll, what am I thinking? Not awfully nice of me to being speaking ill of the handsomest, most powerful man in Penacony." He downs the rest of his drink in one fell swoop. "If he's still hearing me, I'll get the sweep from him for sure. Then I'll really need a drink."

--- a/n: Arctus is the 12th of the The Hours in Greek Mythology, so I thought a reference to her would fit well in a Moment that's apparently one before midnight. tag list: @j1yu425 @crepezinhos @i-am-tiredd @8x9d @ruruize @herrscherofprocrastination @khxii-i @moonsaver

[russellbby]

There’s always pressure😣

parings: charles leclerc x sister!f2 driver!reader, arthur leclerc x sister!f2 driver!reader

in which: she’s very proud of them after racing alongside each other, but the pressure is always still on her..

requested: yes, by anonymous: Leclerc!sister being a F2 driver, watching Arthur & Charles both driving in FP1 session and being very proud of them but also feels a bit left out and feels there is going to be so much more pressure on her

Part 2 Part 3 (coming soon)

//

Y/n Leclerc, a rising talent that is currently driving in formula 2. She had just entered the f1 paddock to watch both her older brothers drive in FP1 together.

She smiled and waved at the cameras pointing to her, and made her way over to some of the fans that are waiting for her to sign stuff and take photos.

A few fans started to shout over to her..

“Imagine if you were driving today, Y/n!”

“Three Leclerc’s on the grid need to happen!”

“Why are you apart of Mercedes’s junior team and not Ferrari’s?”

“Don’t you feel like the black sheep of your family?”

“You need to get into f1 soon!”

Y/n smiled awkwardly when the fans shouted them, she quickly signed and took photos before heading her way to the Mercedes garage.

“Sweetheart, isn’t your whole family in Ferrari? What you doing here?” Susie Wolff, asked the young girl.

“Y/n, I told you that you don’t need to be anywhere near our garage today as both Arthur and Charles are in FP1 together” Toto said as he saw one of his junior drivers in the garage.

“I know, just don’t need to be reminded what’s happening today as I had enough of that walking into the paddock just now, I’m going to see Kimi so see you guys later” Y/n added as she left.

“Media never lets the kid breathe without comparing her to her brothers and why she’s not apart of the Ferrari junior team,” Toto said watching Y/n walk away.

“Well, she’s in great hands with us. Tell Lewis to keep an eye on her, he knows how to talk sense in her when she bottles up her feelings” Susie added.

//

“Y/n! There you are, where have you been?” Pascale asked her daughter who just entered the Ferrari garage.

“Just in Mercedes, sorry maman” Y/n mumbled as she stood by her mother.

“Toto and Susie told you that you didn’t need to be in there today due to this special moment between your brothers today” Pascale added.

“I know, sorry” Y/n replied quietly.

“Hey kiddo!” Carlos said as he messed up her hair making her slap him lightly.

“Hi Carlo! Do I need to remind you again not to touch my hair?” Y/n replied as she glared at him.

“Oh leave her alone,” Rebecca said as she appeared from behind Carlos.

“This is why I like her more than you!” Y/n teased as she hugged Rebecca.

“Love you too kiddo” Carlos mumbled.

A few moments later, Y/n watched as Charles and Arthur soon got into their cars and made their way out onto the track, she smiled proudly at them so ensure her mother and everyone she was happy but deep down she was feeling the opposite.

//

Y/n had managed to slip out of the Ferrari garage just before FP1 was finished. She quickly went back over to the Mercedes garage, before she was caught.

“Hey kid, you okay?” Lewis asked.

“Oh, hey Lew! I’m good!” Y/n replied.

“Why aren’t you in Ferrari? Family must be proud watching Charles and Arthur today, special moment for you all” Lewis added.

“Yeah, very proud of them” Y/n mumbled as she looked up to the TV screens that were showing Charles and Arthur with the whole family hugging.

“Shouldn’t you be with them?” Lewis asked.

“Rather stay out of the way, a moment for them to enjoy with the family” Y/n added.

“Y/n, c’mon kid you don’t need to pretend with me. Toto told me as he can read you like a book, I know you are feeling left out and you think there’s more pressure on you due to what the fans were saying when you walked in today” Lewis told her softly, as she look away.

“It’s not just confusing, I love them and very proud of them. But no one really takes notice of me, I feel left out and just adds more pressure to me as I’m their little sister and should be good at racing like them..” Y/n mumbled.

“Don’t even realise I’m gone..” Y/n whispered looking back to the TV screens that are showing what’s happening in the Ferrari garage.

“Hey, c’mon you’re still their little sister and you mean everything to your family. You are creating your own name for yourself in racing, you joined Mercedes which is a different route to both your brothers. I know how bad the media can be, you can’t let them bring you down as you are doing amazing in F2 right now” Lewis told her.

“Why are you so good at talking, I just want to be sad but you’re making it hard!” Y/n joked with a smile on her face.

“What can I say? C’mon, let’s go the hospitality as it will be comfortable and we can talk more” Lewis added as the youngest Leclerc nodded.

//

Lewis and Y/n has been in the hospitality for 30 minutes when Toto and Susie joined them, the five of them had been there for some time and Y/n kept getting messages from her mother..

Maman❤️

Y/n, darling! Where have you wondered off to?

You should be here with us all celebrating this special moment with your brothers!

It’s so disappointed in you, that you have decided not to be here!

You better be in Ferrari as soon as possible.

read

//

Part 2 anyone?👀