#no but seriously I think you're really nice thank you for all your wonderful comments

[amanitacurses]

more linkshipping? hmm... little odd as an experiment, but what about spirit and sacred? (hopefully i got the names right djzngdiddb)

You got the names right!

Spirit proceeded to have the midlife crises ever (and also bit anyone who tried to take it off)

[fastandcarlos]

On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others

oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️

35,058 comments

username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!

username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄

landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭

username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…

charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc

username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t

mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!

username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲

danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under

username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭

maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted two private stories

replies

georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂

oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!

ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩

danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!

nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕

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oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞

lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie

landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡

carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️

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liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others

oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀

36,950 comments

username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao

danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻

username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him

alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂

username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not

charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻

username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay

username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?

maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻

username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah

landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends

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liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others

oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻‍⚕️💞

57,492 comments

username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄

landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!

georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️

username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest

ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹

username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up

alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn

danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂

username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too

charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you

username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say

carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock

username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻

maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂

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liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others

oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️

63,957 comments

username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰

lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!

username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩

alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment

username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice

maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️

danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!

username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂

landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!

username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too

username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid

ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others

ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥

12,056 comments

username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍

alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘

username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing

charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮

username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life

carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺

oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear

username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂

username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks

danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn

username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life

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ynusername posted two stories

replies

landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂

oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be

ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???

carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!

alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞

ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah

georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you

charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others

ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend

14,592 comments

username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕

oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again

danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn

username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again

username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹

charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend

username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡

iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️

username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again

username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back

landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[bratphilia]

overtime (m. schmidt x reader)

request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"

note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary

after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.

you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"

he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."

awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.

you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.

"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."

"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."

both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"

"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."

mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.

"y'know—"

"so, i should really—"

the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."

you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."

he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."

your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."

mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"

before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.

instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.

much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.

"please, what, honey?" he teases.

you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."

mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.

as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.

he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.

"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."

"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.

his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.

mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.

you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."

mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"

you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman - Part 2

Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze

Alternate Universe : Military School

Words: 7k

Masterlist

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Monday, October 5th, 6:00 PM - Ona's Room

I groan in displeasure upon hearing a door slam. I take off my headphones, which are no longer playing music. I realize I’ve managed to fall asleep again, and someone has just woken me up. How do I sleep so much? I sometimes wonder. A girl with perfect brown hair has just entered the room. I guess she’s the roommate I was told about.

-  "Oh, sorry if I woke you," she says. "I didn't know you were already here! You're the new one, right?"

-  "Hmm." I make the effort to get up after stretching well. This girl isn't to blame for my bad mood, so I’ll try to be nice for our first meeting. She gives me a smile that shows her perfectly aligned white teeth. I briefly look her over. She seems nice, that's something. She’s not a bimbo, and she’s rather pretty. Probably a girl who turns many heads.

-  « Alexia Putellas" she introduces herself, holding out her hand.

-  « Ona Batlle" I reply, shaking it.

-  "They gave me your stuff," she informs me.

-  "Really?" I look at the clothes I’ve just received, frowning. There are different outfits, each given in triple copies. Tell me this isn’t what I think it is... I look at her to be sure. She’s wearing exactly one of the outfits I’m holding.

-  "No way am I wearing this."

-  "Sorry," she grimaces. "It's in the rules. You'll get used to it quickly, you'll see."

-  "I don't think so, no. I don’t plan on staying."

-  "Oh... I see." I feel like she’s mocking me. She’s immediately less friendly than I thought. I prefer not to comment on her attitude so we don’t start off on the wrong foot. Instead, I focus on what I have in my hands. I observe the set with a look of disgust. Uniforms, seriously! That’s not going to work for me. They’re all in khaki, black, or gray. As dull as this place. It seems like they do everything to demoralize us.

-  "Did they tell you that you have a supervisor or something like that?"

-  "I think so, yes. They mentioned something like that."

-  "Oh, and do you know the person’s name?"

-  "No, they didn't tell me anything," I say, shrugging.

-  "You'll find out tomorrow, I guess. Well, I was going to see some friends before dinner. Do you want to come with me? I'll introduce you."

- "Why not, yes," I reply after hesitating.

It’s not necessarily a good idea, but I’m here now. Might as well try to fit in until I leave. I don’t plan on staying alone either, and making new friends shouldn’t be a bad thing. I just need to be pleasant, but that might be complicated given my mood. Alexia smiles broadly, showing her pleasure. I put the uniforms she brought me into my wardrobe. If there’s one thing I can't stand, it’s people touching my stuff. Thanks to that, I’ve gotten used to putting everything away instantly. Alexia patiently waits for me to finish before we go downstairs. She talks to me about a room I don’t know yet. We reach the ground floor. I thought we’d go outside, but she leads me to an old wooden double door to the left of the stairs. I hadn’t even noticed it when I arrived, which shows how much attention I paid. I was probably too busy being angry with my mother.

-  "Here we are. This is the students’ common room."

-  "The students’ common room?" I repeat.

-  "Yeah, it’s a large break room where we can do whatever we want during our free time."

-  "I thought it was a prison and we had to go back to our rooms..."

-  "Oh no," she giggles. "You’ll see, it’s not that bad in the end. Just stay out of trouble and they leave us alone."

-  "Hmm..." She opens the wooden door, which seems heavy and rusty given how it creaks. It’s impossible to enter unnoticed.

She gives me yet another smile before entering the room first. I discover a large furnished room. Alexia is probably right. The camp might not be as terrible as it looks. There’s a TV, foosball tables, sofas, tables... Basically, a place to hang out. I think I’m going to like this place. I’m surprised people don’t care about our arrival. I expected to be the center of attention for being the new one arriving in the middle of the year, but apparently not. Everyone continues their activities as if nothing happened. There are bursts of laughter, conversations coming from everywhere, and even people with their noses in their books. I don’t know how they can study in this atmosphere. It’s impossible for me. I need calm to concentrate. The room must be well insulated because I didn’t hear anything from the outside. I come back to reality when Alexia stops in front of already occupied sofas. These must be the friends she talked about. The sofas are arranged facing each other with a small table serving as a footrest. I feel uneasy imagining that this group must have known each other for years.

-  "Hola chicas ! I brought some company!"

-  "Hi," I say timidly.

-  "Hey! You must be the new one? Alba, Alexia’s sister. »

OK, that’s clear. I didn’t expect such a warm welcome. They don’t seem at all bothered to see me, on the contrary. Irene smiles just as much as her sister, it seems. I stop analyzing and give a small smile back, introducing myself. I turn to the other two, who seem just as nice at first glance. According to Alexia, they are two inseparable best friends. Their names are Patri Guijarro and Claudia Pina. I learn that the group isn’t complete and that two more people will join us for dinner. I hope they’ll be as nice as these guys. Alexia sits next to her sister on the couch and pats the last spot beside her. I join her, and what I feared quickly happens. I’m subjected to a real interrogation about my city, my age, my class, and more. I answer vaguely to the last questions that became too personal. I don’t like revealing myself. They’ll have to be content with my answers. I’m not very brave, especially with strangers. They seem to understand because they go back to normal conversations. I don’t understand much, but at least they stop asking me questions. Alexia takes the trouble to explain some things so I can follow along a bit. It’s a quarter to six when we head to the cafeteria. We have to walk behind the administration building to get there. The cafeteria is a stone building that has been renovated. It looks like a café with its bay windows and a few tables at the entrance. It’s just a dream scene once you go through the second door. Reality hits with a cafeteria more in line with the school’s image. There are many tables and perfectly aligned chairs. I follow my new friends to the left of the room where a line has formed in front of a large buffet with staff to serve us. It’s early, yet there are already some people. I imitate Alexia by taking a tray and cutlery. She explains the process as we go. It’s similar to the canteen I had in high school, but she seems to enjoy explaining it so much that I don’t dare say anything. When our trays are full, I follow her to a table where two people are already seated. I recognize the principal’s daughter, Lotte, I think. I don’t know the other person, who introduces hermself as Leah Williamson. I sit across from Alexia and the girls quickly join us to start a conversation with the two new people. I’m reassured to see that the atmosphere remains the same as before.

-  "You got caught again Leah, ?" Alba mocks.

-  "Yeah... I got more laps around the field."

-  "That’s what happens when you try to skip out," Alexia laughs.

-  "Laps around the field?"

-  "Oh, yeah! Don’t try to defy the instructors," she warns me. "You’ll regret it quickly!"

-  "Hmm, we’ll see."

-  "Do we have a little rebel here?" Leah comments.

-  "No. I just don’t plan on staying locked up here."

-  "Trust me, I’ve tried everything! There’s no way out," she tells me.

-  "I’m sure," I sigh. This school looks like a prison to me, and Leah, seems to share my opinion. She tells me about all the infractions she's committed. She's the rebel of the group. I finally feel understood by someone. She wants the same thing as I do, and yet she's been here for three years. My dismissal might be more complicated than I hoped. She teaches me a lot by sharing all her crazy ideas for driving the instructors mad. She seems pretty funny. I appreciate that they've integrated me into their group so easily. It's as if I've been with them from the beginning. I even find myself feeling sad when it's time to go back to the room. Alexia is an easy-going girl. I shouldn't have any trouble getting along with her, just like her friends. I hope I won't ruin everything by shutting myself off. I answered many questions tonight, but none about my arrival. It must be a taboo subject because no one mentioned their reasons for being here when it was their turn to talk about themselves. At least I didn't shut down during the evening. I feel better than when I arrived since meeting them. I even continue talking with Alexia on our way back to our room when we discover that we are in the same class. It's good news; at least I won't be alone. She's the only one from the group with me, but it's convenient since we share the same room. I'm sure I'll never get lost at least. It's a bit before ten o'clock when Alexia decides it's time to go to bed. I'm disappointed and far from tired since I slept half the day. I try to change her mind until she mentions the word "curfew." I thought this school couldn't get any worse... That's the last straw. If it were up to me, I'd keep chatting, but Alexia has already turned her back in bed. I resign myself to doing the same, turning off the last light in the room. I try to fall asleep, but it's impossible. I turn countless times in my bed, trying to get there. I feel like the night is going to be long...

Tuesday, October 6; 06:00 - Ona and Alexia's Room.

I jump when the alarm goes off. Well, more like the alarm clock. Damn! I thank Joan at this moment for training me to wake up energetically. I grumble and pull the blanket over my head when the daylight blinds me. It wasn't there a second ago. I guess it's the work of my roommate who is shaking me energetically.

"Move your ass, Ona! Or you'll get busted!" "Hmm."

I don't even know what time it is, but it's way too early for my little body, especially since I fell asleep at two in the morning. She gives up on getting me out of bed and starts moving around farther away. As for me, I can't react. I'm so exhausted that my body doesn't want to move. I even curl up to try and get my sleep back, which isn't hard to return.

Tuesday, October 6 ; 06:30 - Ona and Alexia's Room.

"GET UP, BATLLE!"

I groan, sinking into my pillow. What's with that voice? It could have been very pleasant to my ears if she hadn't raised her tone like that. I tighten the blanket against my face. Whoever it is, I just want to fall back asleep one more time, but I doubt they'll let me do that.

"You have three seconds. ONE," she starts counting down. "TWO. THREE."

Go to hell. This thought comes straight from my heart, if only she knew. She'll have to lift me if she wants me to get up. It only took a fraction of a second for me to feel a draft followed by a wet sensation. I scream in surprise as water runs down my face. I inwardly call my unknown assailant every name I can think of, never imagining I could think such things about anyone. I don't have time to reply verbally before the mattress I was lying on is yanked out from under me, sending my body crashing to the floor. She dared! She dared to throw me out of bed to get me up! I never thought that phrase I was thinking would take on a literal meaning. I violently extricate myself from the situation to stand up. Now I'm wide awake and she's going to regret her actions.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!" I shout. "WHO SAYS I'M NOT CARDIAC!"

A pair of emerald eyes I wasn't expecting is fixed on me. I had already prepared a long speech to unleash, but I'm frozen. Who is this girl? She looks so young. I have to look away to hide my discomfort. I take the opportunity to analyze the room. Alexia is no longer there, and her bed is perfectly made. I think I'm in deep trouble. Maybe I should have listened to Alexia when she shook me awake. I turn my attention back to the only person present. She took advantage of my distraction to move closer. She looks angry while I am completely lost. I can't seem to organize my thoughts in the face of her imposing presence and unwavering gaze. I back away to escape her, but an obstacle prevents me. I look down to find the mattress she overturned earlier. I come back down from my emotional high, remembering her actions. The witch!

"So you're the new one," she begins in a surprisingly calm voice. "Know that if you were cardiac, you wouldn't be here."

"What do you know?" I retort bluntly. "And who are you anyway?"

"Your supervisor," she states sternly. "Keep defying me like that, and you'll be doing ten laps around the field."

I start to laugh nervously. I dare to look her up and down to muster some courage. Her, my supervisor? This must be a joke! She's barely older than me. They seriously put a young girl like her in charge of me? They really underestimate me. This girl is going to crack first. She'll soon regret having me under her care, given the hard time I plan to give her. I'll never manage to address her formally, and I sense it's these little details that will irritate her. She furrows her brows and yanks my arm with a sharp gesture, forcing me to follow her. I almost trip over the mattress in the process. She opens my wardrobe without any shame while I watch her, unable to move. I hate it when people rummage through my stuff. She glances through until she finds what she's looking for. She grabs a pair of black jogging pants and a gray T-shirt that's half too big for me and thrusts them against my chest. I catch them with a grunt. She continues searching lower this time to pull out the black combat boots brought with my uniforms. She places them on top of the pile with a khaki jacket with a military pattern. It's a really awful outfit. I grimace just looking at it. I look like I'm in the army.

"I'm not wearing that!"

"Yes, you are. It's in the regulations," she retorts coldly. "I'll give you five minutes to get ready. Then you'll make your bed properly."

"Dream on! I'm not a maid."

"And do you think I am?!" she snaps. "We're not at your service, Batlle. Here, I'm the one in charge. I give an order, and you follow it, period. Is that clear? So now you will listen to me."

I stay silent, taken aback by her tone. I didn't expect to be dealing with this kind of character. She's more authoritative than she appears, or maybe I just didn't see it coming. She yanks my arm again to drag me to the bathroom door. I reluctantly step inside. I'm going to have a bruise soon if she keeps holding me so firmly every time.

"Hurry up. I don't have all day," she snaps.

I slam the door in her face as a response and even go so far as to lock it for some peace. It's the only door with a lock. Maybe I'm annoying her, but she's annoying me even more. She splashed me with water, threw me on the floor, and keeps yelling at me. I get my revenge by taking my time getting ready. If she thinks I'm going to let her push me around! I start by fixing the mess the water made on my face, then brush my teeth. I then put on eyeliner and mascara after applying some cream and foundation. I finish with the hideous sports outfit. I mustn't let myself be intimidated, or I'm done for. I want to get out of here, and I will succeed, even if it means driving her crazy. I take a deep breath while looking at myself in the mirror. I smile, realizing I was right. My T-shirt under the military jacket is slightly too big. They're lucky I like large T-shirts; otherwise, I would have made a fuss. Time to face the tyrant now. If I could, I'd stay locked in. She might be a more formidable enemy than I initially thought. I gather my courage and unlock the door, putting my hands in my pockets. It's not my usual style, but I want to show her I don't care to irritate her further. My plan seems to be working judging by her tense expression.

-  Fifteen minutes for that? Seriously?! she scolds me in a bored tone.

-  I can take more time if you want... Shall I go back? I suggest mockingly.

-  No way, I must be dreaming, she mutters. Hurry up and clean up this mess instead of mocking me! Bingo, I've managed to irritate the little brunette. I hold back my laughter seeing her like this. It's simpler than I thought. Her finger points towards my bed. Now that I pay attention, there's a huge mess. My mattress is on the floor next to my wardrobe, while my quilt is on the other side.

-  You did this, and I have to clean it up?

-  As far as I know, you didn't get up. I wouldn't have done anything if you had followed the rules. And there she goes again. Does she only know that word? No one ever told me anything. I wasn't even informed there was a curfew and uniforms. So I'm definitely not going to know this damn rule.

-  Rules, rules, I mutter. You only have that word in your mouth. How am I supposed to know if no one tells me anything about these damn rules?!

-  What do you mean, you don't know anything?

-  No one ever told me the rules here. I just arrived yesterday! She remains stoic at my revelation. She seems to be thinking before running her hand through her hair with a sigh.

-  Fine, we'll deal with this problem later. In the meantime, keep a low profile and stop talking back.

-  I'm not talking back.

-  Yes, you are. You just did, and it won't go without consequence. Now, stop being smart and clean up this mess. I won't repeat myself. She points to my bed again with a stern look that doesn't make me want to listen to her at all. Yet she seemed friendly for a second, wanting to help me. Her threats seem serious, so I resign myself to follow her orders, starting with putting the mattress back. I then deal with the quilt, quickly making my bed to get rid of her.

-  There. Happy now?

-  No. She messes up my bed with a brusque gesture. I can't believe it. She must be messing with me; it can't be otherwise.

- Why did you do that? What's your problem?! I made your damn bed!

- Firstly, as far as I know, it's your bed. Secondly, I told you to make it square, and it was far from it. Thirdly, I've already told you to stop talking back, and especially, don't address me informally! Now do it again.

She doesn't bat an eye. She has incredibly controlled coldness. I regret listening to her. Now she knows she can do it again. I've lost this first battle, but my next attack will be even more terrible. For now, I show her my obedience and remake the bed. It doesn't look much different from before. I just tried to make the quilt neater by smoothing it out. I stand up to show her I'm done. She doesn't even bother to examine it before messing it up again.

-  No, stop! It was fine!

-  No, I said square. You will redo it until you get it right.

-  Damn it! I don't even know what a square bed is!

-  That's enough. I've warned you enough. You will immediately tone it down, or things will go very badly between us! A palpable tension arises. She is very intimidating in her stance and severe expressions. I promised myself I would stand up to her, so I must do everything not to look away. I'm supposed to be the queen of the staring contest, but it's hard to hold out against her.

-  Do it again, Batlle, she orders.

-  But I'm telling you I can't do it! I get angry. If it's just for you to ruin my work again, it's out of the question!

-  Then all you need to do is ask. I remain incredulous. I expected a sharp retort. She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. Is she mocking me? No way I'm asking her for help! I've never asked anyone for anything, and I'm not starting with her. I've always been free to do as I please. I'm not used to being given orders, let alone asking for help. I quickly had to learn to manage on my own. I bite my cheek as I look at the quilt on the floor. This time it's different. I have no choice but to ask. I don't know how to do it, and she has remarkable composure and patience. She will certainly not be the first to give up. My throat tightens just thinking about the words I'm going to have to say to her.

-  Help me...

-  Can you teach me how to make a square bed, please? she reformulates.

-  Can you teach me how to make a square bed, please? I repeat.

-  Come here, she says. I approach her to reach the foot of the bed.

- Redo it. I look at her incredulously. She rolls her eyes at my immobility.

- Come on, do it. I'll guide you. Understanding better, I comply. She takes her time explaining each fold to make and corrects me when I'm wrong. Finally, I realize it's not that complicated. It's just going to be annoying to have to

do it every morning as she just announced. I stand up and proudly observe my work when I'm done. It was short-lived as she undoes it again without hesitation. My blood boils quickly.

-  You had no right! It was just how you wanted it!

-  I want you to do it all by yourself, she says calmly. I just told you you'll have to do it every morning, so I want to make sure you can do it without my help. It's by doing it again that you learn, right? I roll my eyes. At least she didn't yell at me this time. I control myself and redo my bed the same way. I succeeded, but it's not as perfect as before. I look at her, waiting for her opinion. She doesn't seem angry or anything.

- There you go. I sigh in relief. Phew! I would have been very upset if she had undone it again.

-  Can I go eat now?

-  You should have gotten up in time for that. The service time is over.

-  You're not going to do this to me? It's not my fault I barely slept last night! Breakfast is sacred; you can't take it away from me!

-  I will, believe me. Think about it tomorrow morning; it might motivate you to get up. In the meantime, I have other plans for you anyway.

-  Oh yeah...? I ask, uncertain.

-  Yes. You and I won't be parting ways this morning.

-  Aren't I supposed to go to class?

-  I'm excusing you. I'm your supervisor, which means I have full authority over you. If I decide you're not going to class, that's my prerogative.

-  Basically, you're my hierarchical priority.

-  Exactly. Me and, of course, the principal. Other instructors are instructed to send you to me in case of any issues with you. I'm going to be the person you'll spend the most time with in the coming days.

-  What luck, I say ironically.

-  I think so too. Follow me now, we're going out. I miss classes, what more could I ask for? I'm wary of her intentions. I don't know her yet, but I've already seen her capabilities, and she's not one to joke around. I follow her through the hallways and stairs. She seems to know exactly where we're going. I understand the need for the jacket once outside. It's much colder than in Miami. I must not be used to it because my supervisor doesn't seem bothered by the weather. Her accent doesn't come from here, though. We're heading away from the dorms. I slow down when I realize her intentions at the sight of the gymnasium and sports fields. I don't think and turn around behind her back. I thought I could sneak away until a firm hand catches me in my tracks. I instinctively close my eyes at the contact. Damn! I should have left when I had

the chance! I try to struggle, but it's no use. She increases the pressure on my arm and drags me with her by force.

-  You won't escape, Batlle.

-  Damn it! I did everything you asked! She stops suddenly, making me bump into her before she turns around. I look up to meet her eyes. Bad idea... She scares me even more than before. I can't step back more than a step due to her grip.

-  Yes, you did, but you mostly talked back and addressed me informally. I'm not your friend, okay? I warned you to stop, and you didn't listen.

-  I won't do it again...

-  Oh no, that's too easy! We both know you'll do it again. If I punish you, it's so you'll think twice next time.

-  I promise I won't do it again! I say in a too confident tone.

-  And yet you're continuing, she raises an eyebrow. I want to retort, but I have no argument. I'm talking back and addressing her informally. Damn, she annoys me! It's not my fault she's young and beautiful! I would have preferred to deal with someone ugly and old. At least I wouldn't have trouble seeing her as my supervisor.

-  Okay, the informal address is going to be tough, but-

-  But what? she cuts me off. You're breaking both things I just told you. Not only are you addressing me informally, but you're also talking back and now negotiating?

-  Sorry, I grumble, powerless.

-  When I tell you to do something, you do it and stay quiet, period. Do we agree?

-  I guess, since I have no choice.

-  Fine. She continues on her way, still dragging me along. If it were up to me, I would break free, but I'm not sure she would appreciate that. At least she's loosened her grip. Just enough that I can't escape. She must be the devil incarnate to be ready to do what she's about to do! She makes me lose all my means and defenses. She's trying to unsettle me with her harsh, angry voice. It will be difficult to contradict her because her tactic is working. She will eat me alive and win if I let her. This wasn't at all in my plans. All I want is to get out of here. I fully intend to do so, with or without her on my back. She won't stop me from going home. We're approaching the grassy field. Doesn't she know it's cold? She releases me once we reach the middle of the field. I look around us. From here, you can see the entire camp space until it's bordered by the stone walls. On the other side, the gym blocks the view of the back. I wanted to turn around to see the buildings behind me, but the snap of fingers in front of my nose dissuades me and brings me back to reality. I refocus my gaze on my supervisor, who is waiting for me.

- You are going to do ten laps of the field.

-  Ten laps of the field? Are you kidding me? I scoff.

-  Hurry up. We'll stay here until you've done them all. Don't even think about leaving; I'll catch you before you make it.

-  That's way too much, ten laps! Do you want my death on your conscience or what?

-  Do you want fifteen maybe? I stay silent. She is capable of increasing the amount if I continue. I head to the edge of the field she indicates, not forgetting to sigh and drag my feet. I can't believe what I'm about to do, but I have no choice. She made it clear that there's no way out. If I start running, there's a good chance she'll catch me in no time if she's a bit enduring. I'm far from being an athlete, and on top of that, she has the home advantage. I don't know the camp well enough to hide somewhere. I could get lost or end up in a dead end by mistake. The worst part of this punishment is that she's watching me from her spot with her arms crossed. As if it wasn't already humiliating enough, she has to supervise me, showing her superiority. I stop after half a lap. I'm completely out of breath. I'm not enduring; it was to be expected. I haven't exercised in at least three years. I try to walk, but even that is difficult.

-  Hey, don't stop, she yells from the middle of the field. I said run, not walk!

-  Let me breathe, damn it! I manage to shout between breaths. This time I stop. I bend forward to rest my hands on my thighs. It's so cold that steam is coming out of my mouth. I thought it couldn't get worse, but I start feeling raindrops. This is hell! I will never get used to Manchester. I'm almost sure it's sunny in Barcelona. Plus, I'm certain she'll make me keep running in the rain. She made it clear we won't move until I'm done. We might be here for a long time given how long I'll take. My breathing is far from normal. My heart is pounding, I have a stitch in my side, and to top it all, I'm sleep-deprived, which doesn't help. When I open my eyes, I see a second pair of combat boots in front of me. A few seconds later, a hand rests on my shoulder.

Straighten up. What now? I manage to say. Can't I even breathe? She places her other hand on my other shoulder. I'm so weak that I don't resist when she pulls me up. Her green eyes are examining me. My condition hasn't improved, and I can't change it. Don't expect better from a former smoker.

- Calm down. Of course you can breathe, but not by bending over. Your body needs to be straight to catch your breath better.

Her hand touches my skin above my chest. It's warm, unlike my body. Her other hand still holds me so I don't literally collapse on her. I close my eyes to enjoy this moment of respite and regain my strength. My supervisor asks me to focus on my breathing and her hand following my body's movements. Then she sets a rhythm of inhaling and exhaling out loud. I focus solely on her voice, and I must admit it's effective. She only lets go once she's sure I'm better.-  Good, now keep running.

-  Can't you see I'm not able to? And it's starting to rain!

-  Of course you can, and it's just a few drops. The cloud is already passing.

-  Please, I barely did half a lap, and I'm completely dead! How do you expect me to do ten? At least lower the number!

-  No, I stick to ten. We have all the time, you have until noon. Stop when you can't go on, and I'll help you. You'll face this sanction more than once from me, so you might as well get used to it now. I grumble to myself at the edge of the field while she returns to her spot. To think I'll have to deal with her in the coming days. I'll die if she orders me to do laps every time. I'm already at the end of my rope now. What will it be like in the end? I sigh before forcing myself to resume running to get this nonsense over with as quickly as possible.

Tuesday, October 6; 12:30 PM - Cafeteria

I'm sprawled out like a pancake on the table. I finished my entire meal. It wasn't very good, but I needed it. My stomach was growling from my punishment and my missed breakfast. At least my supervisor was a bit kind. After my laps around the field, she took me to the cafeteria and got us each a chocolate croissant. I think she felt sorry for my stomach, which was growling loudly after my exercise that ended around nine. We stayed on the field for two hours because of me. I'm exhausted; she completely wore me out. "Are you going to be okay?" Pina asks me. "You don't look well." "Yeah," I mumble into my arms. I lift my head to see that I'm the focus of the table's attention. Do I look so terrible that they have to stare at me like that? I don't need their pity; I hate it. "What?" I snap, more sharply than I intended. "You haven't said anything since we started, and you weren't even in class this morning... It's enough to make anyone worry!" Alexia says. "Where were you this morning, anyway?" I ask. "You weren't in the room when I woke up." "Engen sent me to eat after I told her you were the new girl. She said she'd take care of you; there wasn't much else I could do," she explains. "I'm sorry, but I tried shaking you awake and you wouldn't budge!" I can't blame her. She did her best to wake me up. I sleep heavily, and I'm stubborn when it comes to getting out of bed. If I don't wake up on my own, someone has to jump on me like Joan does, or they have to use the radical method my supervisor employs. I realize that Alexia finally gave me her name. So, she's called Engen? She's a real viper. Speaking of her, she passes by the table right now. I glare at her. I follow her with my eyes as she heads to the line to dispose of her tray. I absolutely have to find a way to get back at her. If I don't, she'll eat me alive, and that's not what I want. I don't want to become a well-behaved student who follows all the rules. That's not me. "Is she one of your supervisors?" Patri asks me. "Yeah, the one on the right," I reply, turning back to the table. "Why?" "Ouch, you hit the jackpot," Leah laughs. "Why?"

"Let's just say she's the worst instructor here. You must have quite a file if Wiegman assigned her to you!" Alba comments.

Her, the worst? She's the youngest employee I've seen so far! Her and her companion. Given what happened this morning, I can believe it. I turn to look at her again. I underestimated her. She's not just some young, insignificant staff member... She's the worst. My mother is certainly behind this. She finishes placing her tray and our eyes meet while she waits for her colleague. Oh, the bitch! She smiles at me! She's mocking me! She must be proud to see me crumpled on the table. If she wants a war, she’ll get one! I let her win one battle, but I won’t let her win the next ones. I turn back to the table. I need to know more about her. I need to know everything, or I'm in big trouble.

"What do you know about her?" I ask.

"Her name is Bronze," Lotte informs me.

"I thought it was Engen? At least, that's who woke me up this morning!"

"No," Alexia laughs. "Engen is the one who accompanies her. She’s in charge of checking the senior floor in the morning. They’re partners, so they’re almost always together."

I try to process this new information. I saw Engen this morning. They share an office for the two of them. It makes more sense now that I know they’re partners.

"If Bronze was assigned as your supervisor, Engen probably called her," Leah says. "Everyone gets an assigned supervisor when they arrive. They’re the only person who takes care of us until we adjust," she explains. "Unless they're not available, which is very rare."

"Let me guess... Bronze is never absent?"

"Very rarely," Patri laughs. "I think it happened once in the three years we've been here."

"Great..." I sigh. "So, you all had a supervisor?"

"When we arrived two and a half years ago, yes," Alba responds. "I had Bright. She’s the second partner who supervises our year along with White."

"I don't know them," I admit.

"It’s our third and final year here, so it’s normal that we know all the rules and people," Lotte says. "You’ll get used to it, don’t worry."

"I don’t plan on getting used to it."

"You won’t have a choice with Bronze," Leah chuckles. "I told you we could outwit the instructors, but not the Commander."

"The Commander?" "That's her nickname here," she tells me. "No one can contradict her, not even me." "Well, I'll be the first then."

"Impossible, I’m telling you! Every trick I've found for the others doesn’t work with her! She always... I mean always, has a move ahead of us."

I groan in frustration, letting myself fall back onto the table. Bronze is indeed a demon incarnate. I need to be even more cunning than Leah. It’s very complicated, maybe even impossible.

"Is there anything else I need to know about her, besides the fact that she’s going to make my life a living hell?" I grumble.

"I don't think so," Alba replies. "The instructors don’t talk about their lives. They’re very secretive about it. We don't even know the first names of the new ones."

"Why is that?" "The rules were tightened two years before we arrived." "Okay. So Bronze is the worst?" "The worst of all," Pina confirms. "If we get stuck with her, it’s never a good sign."

So, they’ve figured out that I'm not here for nothing. Fortunately, it’s a taboo topic here. At least I won't be pressured to open up. I like them, but not enough to confide in them when I barely do that with my best friend. I hate my mother, I hate this place. She managed to cut me off from the world. She doesn't understand that I don't want to be anyone's puppet. I just want to be left alone, but that seems like too much to ask. We leave when we’re all done. The stress starts to build as I realize that my first day is approaching. Bronze kept me with her to help with the archiving. I had to go up and down stairs with her, carrying big cardboard boxes. As if the field laps weren’t enough. My legs are jelly because of her. I hope she at least made arrangements with the teachers for this morning. I think she did, but who knows. I sigh as the bell rings. I barely had time to recover from my morning, and now the afternoon is starting. Here’s hoping everything goes well this time.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Oh my God, I really need to have babies with your hubby tony, seriously! I would be the happiest wife in the world. Can you write a delicious baby making with him? Breeding kink is so hot and breeding kink with tony is even hotter, aaaand you write smut beautifully!

Nice and round for me

PAIRING | Husband!Tony Stark x Wife!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.3K

SUMMARY | You and Tony are enjoying your honeymoon in Switzerland, and you had a little more to drink this particular night than usual. You still can't keep your hands off one another, but when the night gets more heated, a specific kink of Tony's comes to light, and you can't help but indulge him in his biggest fantasy.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Smut [ breeding kink, daddy kink, lactation kink (without milk), cockwarming, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), squirting ], mentions of pregnancy.

A/N | Hi Nonnie, thank you for this wonderful request! It will be my first time writing a breeding kink, and I'm honored you want me to write it with the wonderful hubby Tony Stark! 🖤

This one-shot takes place during the same time frame as Baby, it's cold outside. You don't need to have read that one to understand this, but I would still appreciate it if you check it out if you still need to.

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist

You and Tony have been enjoying your honeymoon for the last week and a half, but neither of you has seen much of the beautiful Alps you're currently at. Today, you are planning on changing that.

''Babe, I really think it's time to go and enjoy the sights out there; I didn't bring my camera for nothing,'' you tell him while you're having breakfast together.

Honestly, you're still sore from yesterday since the two of you had been going at it all day and all night, so it would be nice to have a day off for once.

''Alright, but I might have better use for your camera-''

''No, Tony, we're not filming ourselves having sex. You can forget about that idea,'' you say sharply.

''Never say never...'' he said in a sing-song voice, quickly getting up before you could poke him in his side as punishment.

''Not fair! I'm still sore from yesterday, so I'm not as fast as you are,'' you say with a pout.

''I'm sorry, Honey Bee,'' he says as he walks back, giving you a soft kiss on your lips as an apology.

When breakfast is gone, the two of you get some walking done, and you snap some fantastic pictures of the Swiss Alps before heading back, ready for some hot chocolate by the fire.

''Alright, hot chocolate with extra marshmallows for my gorgeous Honey Bee,'' Tony says as he hands you an extra-large mug.

''Ooh, thank you so much, Babe!'' you say as you press play for the movie you will watch together. You cuddle into his side, letting your thoughts go for a little while.

''We should invite all of the Avengers over here for a vacation soon,'' you tell Tony, and he nods.

''As long as I can still have the next week and a half just with you, you can invite anyone whenever you want,'' he says, and you nod.

''Of course, our honeymoon is just for us,'' you tell him.

When both of your mugs are empty, you put them on the table in front of the couch, and when you move back, you go and straddle Tony's lap on the couch.

''Hm, I thought you were sore, Honey Bee,'' Tony says as you slowly start grinding yourself onto him.

''Well, I want you to fill me up again, Daddy. Need to be full with you again,'' you tell him in an innocent voice.

His head falls back on the couch with a soft thud as he lets out a deep grunt at the nickname. He goes absolutely feral when you call him daddy, and it sparked something in him you didn't even know was there.

''How about you make me a real Daddy, huh? Want to fill you up so much with my cum that you'll get nice and round for me when you're pregnant,'' he says, his eyes darkening immensely.

Suddenly your cheeks darken to a deep red color at the thought, but you can't say that you mind, in all honesty. You've always wanted children, so you play into his fantasy.

''Yes, please, Daddy, please get me pregnant,'' you say, and you start grinding into him more, feeling him firm up in his pants without much effort. Combined with your soft moans, he's an absolute goner for you.

His hands fly to your hips, your dress already bunched up at your waist, too, from how you sat down earlier.

''Hm, lemme feel if my Baby is wearing any panties right now,'' he says, and you softly shake your head.

''I'm not, Daddy. Decided to not wear any for you this morning,'' you say with big eyes, making yourself still look as innocent as possible.

''Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me,'' he groans and he thinks 'this would be a great way to go when my time comes.'

''Here, let me free my hard cock for you, Honey Bee; that way, I can get you nice and pregnant while you bounce on this for me,'' he says, and you get up a little, letting him unbutton his pants, shoving them down to his knees.

''Well, it's a good thing Daddy wasn't in underwear either for his Honey Bee, huh?'' he asks. You nod, almost drooling at the sight of his rock-hard member resting against his abdomen.

''F-fuck, Daddy, so hard for me. Want you to fill me up!'' you whine out, and he grabs you by your hips before manhandling you onto his dick, shoving into you in a single thrust.

''D-DADDY, YES!'' you scream out as your head falls back against your neck. You start grinding and bouncing on his dick, pulling deep groans and moans from both of you.

His fingers find their way between your bodies and onto your clit, making you scream out loud at the overwhelming pleasure he's giving you.

''Oh, fuck, Honey Bee, can't wait to fill you up so full you're dripping with my cum. Need to fill you up until you're round with my baby, milk dripping from those gorgeous tits of yours,'' he says as he pulls the collar of your dress down.

Your boobs are on full display for him as they bounce up and down in sync with your movements, and he plays with your nipple, wrapping his lips around the other and sucking on the other.

''Hmm, suck on my tits, Daddy. Get all the milk you want,'' you say as you're getting breathless from the movements, but you don't dare to stop.

''These tits will be so gorgeous for me when they're all filled with milk, dripping with the deliciousness that I will happily lap up,'' he says, moving his lips to the other breast and continuing those same actions.

''Need to cum, Daddy, am close!'' you moan, and a whine escapes you shortly after.

''Yeah, does my good girl get to cum? You think you've been good enough to Daddy to earn it?'' he asks as his hand moves back to your clit, your entire pussy soaking by now.

''Y-yeah, I'm Daddy's good girl! Been so good for you, Daddy!'' you say, almost over the edge.

''Cum. NOW.'' he orders sharply, and before you know it, you're cumming hard, squirting all over his legs, the couch, and the floor from the intensity of the orgasm.

''Thank you, Daddy,'' you say between pants, and his hands grip your hips as his thrusts get faster and sloppier.

''Fuck, keep squeezing me like that. Gonna cum deep inside your wet cunt Honey Bee,'' he says. ''Gonna get you pregnant right now to remember this amazing day,'' and not long after, he does, shooting his cum deep inside you.

You are entirely fucked out as you slouch forward against his body, keeping his softening dick still inside you.

''Wanna stay like this, Daddy. Wanna stay with you inside me,'' you say, and he nods.

''Alright, Honey Bee, I love you so much,'' he says as his hands trail lazy patterns all over your back.

Today marks your 6 month wedding anniversary, and you and Tony are still very much in the honeymoon phase of your marriage.

Since the two of you found out you're pregnant - and expecting twins, no less -Tony hasn't left your side for a second. His duties as Iron Man are put on hold indefinitely since he just wants to be with you.

''God, you're even more beautiful than yesterday, Honey Bee,'' Tony says, and you giggle because he tells you the same exact thing every day.

''Babe, you tell me that every day. And even though I agree with you, it might be time for you to think of something else to tell me before I get used to you telling me that,'' you say as you let yourself fall onto the couch.

''No, because I will never get enough of telling you how beautiful you are when carrying my babies. I love you so much,'' he says as he sits down and rests his hand on your belly.

''I love you more,'' you say, leaning in for a kiss that leaves you breathless for a little bit. ''And I am sure our boys will love you just as much as I love you,'' you tell him, your hands resting on your belly alongside Tony's hand.

[waywardangel-wilds]

hey, i love your writing!!! i wanted to see you write something about k&p complimenting each other's looks. like, katniss still has it since peeta said she's not "particularly pretty" and he has to reassure that he thinks she is the most beautiful woman alive etc thanks S2

Ask and you shall receive (I don't know where this came from):

I pulled the sweater on, running my fingers over my head to tame the static flyway's. I felt the distinct pressure of attention on the back of my skull, and with a smirk, I glanced over my shoulder.

"You're being such a creep right now."

"Am I?" Peeta replied from the other side of the closet. He didn't even pretend not to be staring at me. He just smiled shamelessly, standing there in his socks, boxers, and nightshirt, watching me as if he didn't see me every day. "You just look really pretty."

I rolled my eyes and walked over to the full-length mirror. "Okay," I said, braiding my hair with practiced ease. "If you say so."

"I do say so," he replied amusedly, going about the business of getting dressed for the day. I rolled my eyes, forgetting about the conversation as I assembled my list of tasks for the day. With my braid tied off, I started digging around the closet for my bag. I'd need something to carry the shopping back home with.

"Why do you always do that though?" Peeta asked, but my mind wasn't present, so he had to speak up again. "Katniss? Did you hear me?"

"Hm?" Aha, there it was. Why did I always have to throw it on the floor? "Did you say something?"

"I just asked you why you always roll your eyes when I say you look nice."

"I didn't roll my eyes," I refuted, wondering if we were going to end up having an argument over something.

"You know what I mean, you just always blow it off." he clarified, coming around to my side so he could smile in my direction. Okay not an argument then? "You look nice."

"Thanks," I said with a reluctant tone, rolling my eyes.

"See!" Peeta pointed at me. "Why do you do that?"

I gave him an unimpressed look. "Seriously? Can we just go?"

"Yeah, I guess." He shrugged; sounding put out.

I sighed, "are you mad at me?"

"What? No," Peeta laughed. "Why would I be mad?"

"Then why are you trying to have a fight?" I was exasperated. "It's like you're looking for something to be mad about."

"I'm not mad!" Peeta insisted with another laugh, he looked very confused. "I was just asking."

I crossed my arms, "You're being serious?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Oh," I looked down sheepishly, feeling my cheeks warm with an embarrassed flush. "I don't know."

Peeta shook his head, he looked bewildered. "This is silly, let's just go."

"I just-- I don't know, I guess I don't buy it is all." I admitted with a shrug, turning towards the exit with embarrassment. Peeta stared at me with an eyebrow raised.

"What?"

"You asked!" I tugged at the hem of my sweater. I felt twitchy and weird, like a fish out of water. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"I'm looking at you because you're not making sense," He ducked down to make an incredulous face at me. "Why are you hiding right now?"

"Ugh," I scoffed, pushing him away. "I'm leaving."

"Wait! I'm supposed to be driving you!"

"I'll just walk." I sneered over my shoulder. Well, we were arguing now. I strode across our bedroom and out onto the staircase, Peeta hot on my heels.

"So, what you're saying is that someway, somehow, you, Katniss Everdeen, the prettiest girl to ever come out of District Twelve, think you're not extremely hot?"

I shot him a look over my shoulder, not even bothering to acknowledge that insane statement. I headed for the foyer.

"If you're coming with me, I'm going to need you to shut up."

"One, hurtful." Peeta commented flippantly, lowering my hand when I gave him the finger. "Secondly, I'm just being honest."

I made a face and turned away to pull on my coat, "sure you are."

"Why would I lie?" Peeta asked as he shut the door behind us.

"Hey guys!" Peeta and I waved in reply to our next door neighbor. "I borrowed the wheelbarrow, if you don't mind?"

"That's fine!" I called back, Peeta flashed a thumbs up. I hopped down the stairs and went to yank on the door to Peeta's truck.

"Ah, ah, ah, I have the keys." Peeta waved them above my head. I tried to snatch them, but he just raised his arm higher. "Tell me why you're pissed all of a sudden."

"I'm not the one that's mad!" I insisted.

"And yet you're yelling at me, yikes." Peeta snickered, his free hand palm out to fend me off when I smacked him. "Okay, okay, you're not mad."

"I'm not." I agreed sullenly, crossing my arms. I sighed, realizing he really wasn't going to let it go. "Fine, if you want to know that badly, I know I'm not particularly pretty, or nice, or tall because someone told me."

"Why does that sound so familiar?" Peeta frowned, the realization slowly dawning on him. "Oh, oh no Katniss."

"Yeah ."

"You're being unfair," He frowned at me, going around me to put his key in the door. "You know that," he said, sliding into the drivers side.

I was taken aback, "so you're not going to apologize?"

Peeta leaned an elbow against the open window, "are you actually mad about that or are you using it as an excuse? Because if you really hadn't forgiven me for that you would have said something I'm guessing... six years ago."

I scoffed, rounding the car to climb into the passanger side. "Drive."

"Ouch, seems like I forgot how to do that." He leaned back on his seat dramatically. "I guess we just have to wait until my girlfriend starts being nice to me again."

I tried to glare at him but it was hard to keep the angry thing going when he was so clearly trying not to laugh. I groaned.

"Fine, I don't know. I'm just," I made a face moving my hands around to try to get the message across. "You know?"

"I really don't." He crossed his arms leaning towards me over the gear shift. "You seriously think you're ugly?"

"I," I briefly struggled to string a sentence together. "I guess? Just look at me. I could accept average, I think, on a good day."

He raised his eyebrows, "Wow."

"That's all you're going to say to me?"

"Wow, you're blind." He leaned closer to me, invading my personal space. "Blind."

"Can we go now," I gently pushed him away. "Please? I-just. I think Wendel is staring."

Peeta glanced out of the windshield, making a face as he put his key in the ignition. "Damn, I miss when we were the hermits of the District. Those were the days."

"Everyone thought we were deranged," I said dryly.

"But the privacy couldn't be beat." He turned to look out the rear as he pulled away from the house. Victor's Village hadn't originally been built with the intention of holding a car, let alone Peeta's massive truck, so he had to park in the yard and drive past the fancy wrought iron gate.

"We're not letting this go, just so you know." He said after he got the car on the road. "I'm just trying to keep all the neighbor kids alive."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Good thing I can talk for the both of us," he waved at an approaching figure. "Hi Mrs. McAlister! Lovely weather we're having. I'd love to stay and chat, but Katniss and I have to get going. Oh! Okay!" He laughed at Mrs. McAlister's usual joke. "Okay, see you!"

"You could roll the window up, you know." I said bitterly for no reason.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that because I'm a very nice man." Peeta retorted. "And because we're in the middle of a self-image issue."

"Ugh, you sound like my mother." I cringed thinking about her new 'therapy is the way' approach to life.

"Wha-" Peeta glanced at me with his mouth open, shaking with laughter. "Oh, by the odds, I try to tell you you're beautiful and you tell me I'm a middle aged woman. Where's the love? The poetry? You used to think I was the coolest thing that ever happened to you."

"I never thought that, you're delusional." I accepted the searching hand he placed on my lap, intertwining our fingers. "But thank you for saying that."

"I'm not just saying it, though." He leaned forward to look for an opening before he pulled onto the main road. "I'm being so deadly serious, Katniss. I think you're beautiful because you are."

"Peeta-"

"You have these eyes," he interrupted. "They're so intense. Like smoke. Sometimes, when you look at me it feels like.. God, it feels like fire. Like I'm going to die if I can't be near you."

I slammed my mouth shut, suddenly very interested in his new line of thought.

"You know, for a long time there I thought you couldn't get more beautiful than you already were. You were so serious back then, always frowning, like you were thinking about the hard stuff all the time. But then your smile. Katniss, I love your smile." He smiled at me then, before turning back to the road. "You have these funny uneven teeth, and on anyone else they'd look out of place, but on you? They're perfect."

"You like my buck teeth?"

"I love your little rabbit teeth," he said with a laugh. "And your hair? You have no idea how obsessed I am with you hair. I used to wait for you to fall asleep so I could smell it. It made me feel like a creep."

I laughed, "I knew about the hair."

"And you haven't left me? Wow, you must really like me."

"Just a bit," I agreed leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

"Oh, I'm not done. I could write poetry about the curve of your nose. And your hands, even your lips. And we haven't even gotten to the dirty stuff yet. I think I actually did write something about how much I love your boobs once. It's in an old sketchbook somewhere."

I laughed, "I love you, dummy."

"Love you too." He honked. "Hey! Are you blind? Get outta the road!"

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

You: *writes two small essays clearly, cleanly, and thoroughly going through issues you have with the writing in Miraculous, and how they affect what the show is actually saying vs what the writers are going for vs what the audience is taking away from the show, without treating the characters as autonomous people who actually exist a single time*

Someone who pisses on the poor: 'oh so you think this abused child, who was magically created from a feather, deserves to be maliciously lied to by his lifelong romantic partner and fellow 14 year old? After everything he's already been through?'

Media literacy classes should be a requirement everywhere

Thank you for your kind comments about that post. Comments like yours have been very validating after what was initially a really disheartening series of events.

I was quite pleased with what I wrote and thought that I had done a good job focusing on the writing and emphasizing that I was talking about the big picture of the narrative, not chastising or praising specific characters for what the writers had them do. But after I had multiple people go off on rants defending Alya and Adrien, I started seriously questioning my own sanity and communication skills. I even looked up the definition of betrayal to make sure that I wasn't somehow misusing it since that word really seemed to upset people. In case anyone was wondering:

Betrayal is the breaking or violation of a presumptive contract, trust, or confidence that produces moral and psychological conflict

After verifying that I hadn't been using "betrayal" wrong for well over a decade, I got a little annoyed and did my angry rant in the hope that it would save me from further backlash.

While it has been super validating to see that my two initial essays did in fact make sense to a good number of people, that last post did go a little viral, which I didn't see coming, so I want to take a moment to make it clear that I DO NOT want anyone go after the people who did the rants that spawned my rant. Nothing they did or said was worthy of any sort of pile on. They were just expressing opinions and that's fine. I even get it to some extent because a lot of people have unfairly salted on Alya, acting as if she's the problem and not the writing. And that can be really upsetting when you like her because she doesn't deserve those pile ons any more than Marinette does. They are both victims of bad writing!

I get the desire to treat fictional characters like real people, I really do, but Miraculous is frankly not a good enough show for you to do that. The hand of the author is far too blatant, making characters do whatever the writers want instead of what makes sense for what has been established. One of my favorite quick examples is that the writers gave us a full episode where Gabriel "proved" that Adrien wasn't Chat Noir only to have him figure out Adrien's secret identity because he heard his son use the words My Lady as if that's a super unique pet name that would make Adrien's secret undeniable.

It's all nonsense, which is why I focus on the writing issues, treating the characters like the tools they very clearly are. I simply can't do the kind of character analysis you can do in well written shows where the characters feel real and their actions make sense in the established narrative.

I'll close with this statement to explain how I try to run this blog: the characters in the show are fictional, the people you're talking to on here are not. In the grand scheme of things, nothing about Miraculous is bad enough to be worth fighting over. That's why I enjoy talking about it. With all the truly important fights going on in the world, it's nice to come on here and relax by talking about writing - a topic I adore - without having to care if people agree. It's also why I have this as a side blog. I want people to be able to avoid my content if it upsets them as my goal is first and foremost to have fun dunking on a show that is bad in interesting ways. If I only ever got upset replies to my posts, then I would not run this blog because Miraculous is not worth being miserable over. No piece of fiction is.

[goodluckclove]

How I Critique Writing (A Loose Collection of Tips)

Someone asked me for insights into my methodology when it comes to giving feedback on writing and I realized I had way more than I could say in a reasonable amount of private messages. Are you someone who I've spoken to about their writing? Did someone send you their work and you don't know how to respond? Maybe this will help? Based on how people react I feel like it might be controversial but it seems to work.

When someone sends me their writing, no matter the size, subject or genre, I:

Take it seriously. It's a generational epic about the Vietnam war and its effects. It's a cute, young adult romance. It's Zim and Dib from Invader Zim realizing they've always been in love with each other. All of these things can be written with earnestness, strength, honesty and skill. It's fucking hard to write and if someone writes a single sentence that wouldn't otherwise exist its worth holding in your hands and examining with the same eye as if you were taking an interesting book off the shelf.

Respond with curiosity. It's common for critiques to follow a theme of ambiguous disdain. This doesn't work. Delete this. Bad. No. Gross. Guess what? That's not helpful. If you got that feedback, even if you followed it, you wouldn't be thrilled about it. Oftentimes you can take a line that makes you want to say Bad and ask something else. What is this supposed to express? What were you trying to do here? Am I supposed to feel happy/sad/uncertain when I read this? Curiosity can reframe something that you don't think works as a reader and turn it into an opportunity for the writer to look inward and solve their own problem. They might explain what they were trying to do, and if you were to say that it didn't pan out for you they're way more likely to tweak things themselves and feel like they still have control over their project.

Give comments. I've started giving more in-depth comments on the writing people give me depending on how anxious they are about it. If you're a pretty confident writer I'll give a summary of what I gained and what I was left wondering, what I thought and what I felt, what associations it made me think of in terms of tone and other forms of media - stuff like that. For newer writers, especially those who are far more doubting of their own abilities, I go buck wild. And in my opinion notes should be less like Good! I like this! Wow! Nice! (What are you, grading my book report? No thanks), and more like what you think when you're reading a book you're truly invested in. Make jokes about the characters (Not mean ones. I will send bugs to you in the mail.), chart exact lines that provoke physical reactions, even a small one. Can you imagine reading someone treat your work like it has its own fandom on Tumblr? You can do that for someone else.

Fucking have some fucking awareness of the fact that it might not be for you and that doesn't mean it's bad. I'm angry about this one considering the novel a friend sent me last night that they've been too terrified to try and post online, despite it being fucking brilliant. I'll try and calm down. Listen - you read what you like. I mainly read literary and experimental fiction, some poetry, horror and some sci-fi. Not a lot of genre fiction. But I will always be down to read someone's high fantasy story, because even though I don't really like fantasy I know what the good ones sound like. I've forced myself to gain a sense of what someone else would like, even if I don't like it. And I can still critique it. If I'm a builder and I see a house that's painted a shade of green I find sinful for a home (i.e. mint), I can look past that and focus on the state of the walls and the stability of the foundation. You aren't a reviewer, man. You are neither Siskel, nor Ebert. They write for readers, you write for writers. So you don't like historical fiction? Cool, man. Congrats. If someone trusts you enough to give you some to read and critique, you should still do so objectively. If you give it an automatic F because you wouldn't buy it, then you are legally a stinky little trash man. That's just the law.

Ask them what they liked to write and what was the hardest. There's apparently a weird trend on online writer communities that say there are specific rules that all writers need to follow. This is not true. It just isn't. If the dialogue in a story you read is weak, and the writer says they hate writing dialogue and really struggle with it, maybe tell them they don't have to use it. You might change their entire life.

RESPOND WITH CURIOSITY. You see the Ask games where people try and get more detail on the WIP of certain authors. If you have a WIP and I ask you a worldbuilding question that doesn't relate to the direct plot of the story as it exists now, I bet you'd like to talk about it. If I ask if you were inspired by a certain tone or movie, you might know the work I was talking about and feel happy. Or you might not know it, look it up, and feel inspired. I don't think people realize that a critique of new/unfinished writing is not a one-and-done exchange. You are taking part in an isolated process in a way few other people on the planet will. It's not homework. It's. Not. Homework. We spend so much of our time alone just fiddling our hands and making our magic, and in instances like these we share something in one of the ultimate forms of artistic trust. They're taking you into a world that hasn't fully formed yet. Is it cool? Can you tell me about it? Can they?

Be nice. Storytime, friends. In the way early 2010s, there was something on the internet called sporking. It was pretty much a line by line roast of someone's writing - typically fanfic. And I hate to say this, but I read a lot of it. I was 13, somehow untreated and overmedicated, and I was miserable constantly. Just cold in my chest. At one point I had the chance to critique a stranger's story - probably another child - and I essentially mocked the whole thing. They ended up deleting the story off the website. I cannot begin to describe to you the shame I feel about doing this, even ten years later. It burns in my heart and makes me sick to my stomach. If you are a serious writer, especially a young writer, and you insult another writer's craft to their face just as they're getting started - you will regret it. I promise you that. You will think about holding something alive and full of potential in your hands and squeezing your fists until it is just flecks of meat and crushed bone. It will haunt you. Maybe only a little, but constantly and for the rest of your life. So don't do it.

Wow what a grim note to leave on! That's essentially my philosophy on writing critique, do with it what you will. Want to send me some writing to receive this kind of excessive treatment? Cool! I have an email in my pinned post and I'll do that! I'm also down to chat if anyone wants to send me asks or DMs on writing/writing struggles/publishing tips.

[lordperceval-16]

Come Light Me Up

Max Verstappen x Sophie Russell (OC)

Sophie Russell is taking a break from her life in the US and travelling the world with her brother on the F1 circuit. Things get a bit more complicated when she reconnects with one Max Verstappen.

~Bahrain ~

"Oh sorry Sophie, I didn't think anyone would be up here."

Sophie turned around and smiled when she saw Max standing in the doorway, the light behind him shining out into the darkness.

"It's alright," she replied, "wouldn't mind a bit of company to be honest."

He came to stand beside her and rested his arms on the railing, looking out over the city below. They stood in silence for awhile, Sophie analysing the brooding look on his face.

"Sorry your race went shit today," she murmured, and he couldn't help but laugh at her bluntness.

"Gee thanks. I'm surprised you're not off celebrating your brothers' podium," he commented, his brows furrowing.

"Yeah I was but..." Sophie sighed, her head down, "guess I still haven't quite adjusted to the timezone."

"Why do I get the feeling that's not the whole truth?" He pushed, his gaze settling on her with curiosity.

"Aren't you observant," she snorted, glancing sideways at him before her shoulders slumped slightly on defeat, "but yeah, you're right, it's not the timezone really."

"Care to share?" He queried, nudging her elbow with his.

"Sure you actually care to listen to my ridiculously boring melodrama?" She quipped back, eliciting a laugh from him.

"Try me," he grinned, "maybe I'm in the mood for melodrama."

"You definitely have better options for your night than listening to me," she insisted.

"Look you don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable with it," he assured her, "but something's clearly up and if you need a friendly ear then I'm here."

"Well I..." she started, looking down again, "I love George and Carmen, in fact she's like a sister to me, but since I've come home I just...I dunno. Of course I'm so happy they have each other but...sometimes seeing them makes me feel...."

"Lonely?" He guessed, and she nodded her agreement.

"Yeah," she murmured, "I was with someone for three years before it all went tits up, and now I feel...a little lonely yeah."

"That's pretty shit," he replied plainly, "but I get it. It can be hard being the single one at the party.

"Wow," she snickered, "such insightful points you make."

"It's a gift," he laughed, "but seriously, if you ever need any more very insightful points then I'd be happy to listen to more of your melodrama sometime."

"Cheers," she chuckled, pushing herself away from the railing, "Careful though or I might just take you up on it sometime."

"I'll be waiting by the phone," he teased.

"Oh I'm sure you'll be glued to the screen" she quipped back, "I better get some sleep, we fly out fairly early in the morning."

"Wouldn't want that jet lag to make you late for your flight," he grinned.

"Ah yes, the jet lag," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes, "I'll see you around Max."

"Hey Sophie?" He called after her, "its nice to see you at race weekends again. Reminds me of the old days."

"Aha yeah," Sophie laughed, "those were the days. If only everything could be as simple now as it was then."

"It'll get better," he assured her quietly.

"Here's hoping anyway," she sighed before waving goodnight to him and leaving the rooftop. 

~Imola~

"We have got to stop meeting up like this."

Max looked up and huffed out a laugh when he saw Sophie sliding down the wall to sit beside him.

"What brings you here?" He asks, leaning his cheek against the cool wall and giving her his full attention.

"Well," she sighed dramatically, mirroring his position,"George and his mechanics are buzzing around the garage and it all got a bit too frantic for me so I stepped out to get a breather. I didn't want to get in the way or distract him before quali."

"That's fair," he chuckled, "things can get a bit chaotic in the garages."

"I have to wonder what you're doing here, hiding by yourself," she stated, "shouldn't you be holed up with Horner in a corner of the garage scheming up how you can pip Charles to pole?"

"Oh hawhaw," he deadpanned, sticking his tongue out at her, "you Mercedes fangirls love to paint us as the villains don't you."

"A fangirl?" She balked, bringing her hand to her chest, "never been so insulted in my life."

"I'll add it to my growing shelf of awards," he teased, grinning wider when she rolled her eyes.

"You're so full of shit," she scoffed, but she couldn't hide her amused grin.

"See I know you don't mean that," he smirked, nudging her with his elbow before pulling himself up from the ground, "I better head back to the garage, make sure our evil scheme is ready to go. I'll see you around Sophie."

"Hey Max," she called as she stood herself, a genuine smile on her face, "probably shouldn't be saying this to the enemy but...good luck, I hope your quali goes...moderately well."

"Gee thanks," he snickered, "I'll know who to thank if I get pole."

As Sophie walked through the paddock later that evening she was stopped by a hand on her elbow.

"Thanks for the good luck wishes," he murmured in her ear, "we'll have to make it a regular thing."

"Oh you are such an insufferable twat," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"You don't mean that," he teased as he backed away from her, a cheeky grin lighting up his face. Sophie shook her head as she left him, but she couldn't ignore the excited little flutter in her stomach at the prospect of their meetings being a regular thing.

~Barcelona~

"Suppose congratulations are in order today," Sophie called from her spot leaning against the Mercedes motor home.

Max turned and grinned when he saw her there, sauntering over to her and leaning against the wall beside her.

"Wow thanks Sophie," he sniggered, "next time try it with feeling."

"Best I can do I'm afraid," she sighed dramatically, "as a Mercedes fangirl its my duty to be disdainful when you beat us, especially when you beat George."

"Aw I know you don't mean that Sophie," he pouted, "but it's OK, you obviously can't admit that you're actually a proud member of the orange army."

"Clearly the heat on track has gotten to your head," she snorted, shaking her head at him fondly.

"Don't worry," he whispered, leaning in to her ear, his breath tickling her neck, "it'll be our little secret."

Sophie felt butterflies erupt in her stomach at his whispered words. If she turned her head even slightly then her nose would brush against his. She couldn't deny her attraction to him, couldn't deny just how tempted she was to turn her head and see what he would do.

"Hey Soph you ready to...oh, hi Max."

Sophie's head whipped around as George walked out of the motor home, his eyes flickering between the two of them suspiciously.

"Hi George," Max said cheerily, stepping away from Sophie and hoping it wasn't too obvious, "I need to head to the motor home and shower so I'll see you both around."

Sophie waved goodbye and watched him go, her neck prickling with the weight of her brother's gaze on her.

"You and Max looked mighty friendly," he commented as he stepped up beside her, "when did that become a thing?"

"It's not a thing," she insisted, crossing her arms as she finally turned to face him, "we're just friends."

"Is it me you're trying to convince or yourself?" George teased lightly,  raising an eyebrow at her.

"Oh shut the hell up," Sophie scoffed, "now c'mon let's get out of here and get dinner, I'm absolutely starving."

~Miami ~

Wanna play Mario kart?

Sophie huffed out an incredulous laugh when the Instagram DM from Max popped up on her screen.

Sure, what's your room?

She twiddled her thumbs as she waited for a reply, which thankfully didn't take too long to come through.

714 :)

Sophie swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched her arms above her head, groaning in satisfsction when she felt the pop. She quickly slid on her shoes and grabbed her phone and purse before bolting out the door and heading for the elevator. As she waited for the lift to go up she checked her appearance in the mirrored wall, quickly taking down her messy bun and making it a little bit neater. She rapped on the door of 714 twice, starling back a little at how quickly it opened.

"You came," he breathed, almost as though he was surprised.

"Well while I did have some good offers," she mused as she stepped in and placed her things on the table, "I thought Mario Kart would be considerably more fun than any of those."

"Wow, I'm so flattered," he deadpanned, though he couldn't surpress his grin for too long, "now I'm dying to know which character you'll pick. My bets on Yoshi for sure."

"Well I hate to disappoint you," she replied as she picked up the remote and jumped onto the couch, "but it's Waluigi or bust."

"A woman of taste," he said, bowing dramatically before joining her on the couch, "this should be interesting."

"Oh sweetie," she sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder, "you may be the formula one world champion, but I'm going to absolutely destroy you at this."

"Oh is that right?" He quipped, raising an eyebrow in challenge, "well we'll see about that. Best of three?"

"You're on," she grinned.

"You cheated!" She exclaimed after their third grand prix came to an end, "you pushed me off the track at the last turn and put me in reach of the flowers, that's absolutely cheating."

"You're just mad cause you didn't think of it," he smirked, leaning back on the couch and shrugging his shoulders, "but it's alright, not everyone can be a world champion."

"Oh you are so full of it," she huffed, dumping her control on the table and hugging the couch cushion to her chest, a pout on her face.

"Aw don't be a sore loser Sophie," he teased, batting his eyelashes at her, "its just a game." Before she could think too much about it she swung the cushion in her hand and hit him square in the face with it.

"Really?" He asked incredulously, "did that make you feel better?"

"Yes actually," she smirked, before swinging the cushion again. This time he was ready for her though, and grabbed the cushion from her hands before it could make contact.

"Don't start another competition you can't win," he warned, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"What makes you think I won't win?" She challenged. Max made her no answer, and when she realised what was about to happen it was too late and the cushion had already slammed into her face.

"Oh its so on," she stated, grabbing the other cushion as she jumped from the couch and dodged his next blow. They raced around his suite for what felt like hours, trading blows and laughing like maniacs.

"Alright that's it," he threatened after a particularly harsh blow. Sophie huffed out a squeal as he tackled her around the waist and her back bounced onto the soft bed. She gasped for breath through her laughter, her heart pounding in her chest from the exertion. When she opened her eyes she found herself nose to nose with Max, who was staring back at her intently. His gaze flickered almost imperceptibly to her lips and her heart raced impossibly faster.

The spell was broken by the blaring of his ringtone. He groaned as he stood up and plucked his phone from the nightstand, answering it with gruff 'yes?'.

Sophie stood from the bed and straightened herself out, clearing her throat and ignoring the fluttering in her chest. When she looked up again he was hanging up the phone and watching her warily, as though she were a cornered animal.

"I had a lot of fun," she said quietly after an awkward beat, "certainly beat sitting on my own watching hallmark movies."

"Yeah me too," he agreed, his face softening, "probably the most fun I've had in awhile."

"Well I won't lie I probably would have had more fun if you hadn't cheated," she commented breezily, and suddenly the weird tension between them was no more. "Next time its all out war."

"I'm shaking just thinking about it," he teased. Sophie rolled her eyes and stepped closer to him, a small smile on her face.

"I better get to bed," she sighed, "rematch soon yeah?"

"Absolutely," he nodded, his heart thudding when she wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on her shoulder, his heart thudding so loudly in his chest he was sure she'd feel it.

"Night Max," she murmured as she stepped back and headed for the door.

"Night Sophie," he called after her, a content smile on his face.

~Monaco~

"Hey Sophie, want another drink?"

"Sure," she grinned, "I'll come with you."

Max led the way around the dancefloor to the crowded bar at the other side of the room. He had no problem muscling his way to the front of the crowd, but Sophie struggled to get through. She smiled gratefully when Max took her hand in his and pulled her to the front with him. He didn't let go once she'd settled beside him, and her heart fluttered at the feel of his hand in hers.

"Oh I love this song," she grinned as she finished your drink and a remix of 'Into You' blared drom the speakers.

"Come on then," Max suggested, downing his drink before grabbing her hand and dragging her to the dancefloor. He rested his hands on her waist and swayed their bodies in sync with the music. As the baseline began to rise her eyes met his and her heart felt like it was trying to escape from her chest. His face was so close to hers that their noses were almost touching, and when the lights flashed she could see the glint of want in his eyes and knew it was a look she wouldn't forget.

As the chorus dropped she threw all caution to the wind and pressed her lips against his desperately. He pulled her flush against his chest, his hands on her back holding her there. She felt like her body had been electrified, every inch that was pressed against Max feeling like it was on fire.

"Why don't we go somewhere more private," he murmured against her lips, and she couldn't surpress a shiver. She nodded in response, and he wasted no time in grabbing her hand and leading her through the club and out the front door.

"Where are we going?" She asked as he led her down the street. He stopped and turned to look at her, a vulnerable look taking over his face.

"Oh well I was thinking we could go to mine since it's so close," he started, rubbing the back of his neck, "but if I've misunderstood this then we can absolutely just...."

"No," she giggled, shaking her head and pressing another kiss to his cheek, "you haven't misunderstood anything. I was just asking."

"Oh," he laughed, "well then yeah, my place is nearby so we can go there."

"Lead the way," she grinned, "I'll text George and let him know I've left and that I'm OK."

"He's not going to murder me is he?" Max joked as they continued down the street.

"He's probably too drunk to even notice I've left," Sophie snorted. As they walked their hands brushed against each other, and Sophie couldn't fight her smile as he took her hand in his and swung them back and forth.

"So," he said awkwardly as they entered his house, "do you want a drink or..."

Sophie cut him off with a firm kiss, backing him up against the wall and pressing her body flush against his. "I didn't come home with your for drinks Max," she stated, pressing breathy kisses along his jaw, "so why don't you show me where your bedroom is and we can tour the kitchen in the morning."

"Who am I to argue with that?" He laughed before kissing her with renewed enthusiasm. He wrapped his arms around her waist and began to steer her down the hallway to his room, his lips never leaving hers.

[pseudowho]

hi haitch!! how was your day? did you do anything fun this weekend? anyways, i just wanted to drop by and ask for some advice.

there's this guy in a few of my lectures who has expressed interest in me multiple times, despite me firmly telling him that I have a boyfriend and therefore am not interested. But he won't stop and it's making me really uncomfortable. We're lab partners, and he's always finding some way to touch me, not inappropriately, but not in like a friendly platonic way either.

He also keeps making flirty/suggestive comments and inviting me over to his place to "study" but the way he says it makes it very clear that he doesn't want to study. On top of that, the part that bothers me the most is he clearly doesn't take me seriously, which is not something I'm unused to as a relatively small, unintimidating woman in a male dominated field of study, it just pisses me off more because it's him, you know?

Anyways, I was wondering if you have any advice. My boyfriend wants to beat the guys ass, and as much as I would like to see it, 1) it's not exactly professional, and 2) despite being very fit and athletic, my boyfriend can't fight for shit. Like seriously. I would stand a better chance in a fight than he would and I'm ten inches shorter than him.

Sorry if this bothers you. I'm just at a loss and you give trusted adult vibes and I want to fully take advantage of being one of your adopted tumblr users. However I do understand if constantly being bombarded with people asking for advice is too much and you'd like me to stop.

Have a nice night (I believe it's nighttime in the UK right now)!

Hey! You're being sexually harassed. You have expressed your wish to be left alone a number of times now. He's committing gender-based violence against you.

Feeling brave?

Okay. Be vicious.

When he next touches you, I need you to say, loud enough for everyone to hear, "I've told you to stop touching me, get your hands off me!" Make sure it's loud and clear.

Find any other members of the class, or your teachers, who will notice. Tell them in no uncertain terms, "He's sexually harassing me. He's told me he's interested in me, and I've told him I'm not, and he keeps making suggestive comments and touching me."

Let's see how he acts when the scrutiny is on him.

Don't smile. Don't demur. Hiss and spit like a fucking alley cat.

He will act like you're overreacting. He will act like his touches are accidental. He will get nasty. He will try to embarrass you, or suggest it's your fault, or that he's just being 'friendly'. He'll then gaslight you; as if you're attractive enough to attract him-- you should be embarrassed for thinking he's into you.

All violent manipulator tactics. Stand tall. None of them are correct; he is in the wrong and he will try to blame the victim.

These men rely on you not shouting. They rely on other people turning a blind eye. So you shout, and you make it impossible for others to turn a blind eye.

Now is not the time for being shy, or a wallflower.

Come on, kid. I wish you didn't have to do this, but you do, and I'm proud of you and I believe in you.

EDIT: The baby has had a fever all weekend, so we only did little trips to the park, and to the bike track. We're all alive; everyone fed, nobody dead! Me and @mrhaitch are starting to think about Halloween games, so while we're looking at the Silent Hill remake, it's currently £60 here, and so we're waiting for some honest human reviews before we take the plunge. Instead, we're going to try to finish a play through of my favourite game, Darkest Dungeon. Thanks for asking 💕

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[ihopesocomic]

Hi, it's me, that one anon who constantly sends you walls of text where I point out every single detail that I notice in characters' fur colours and eye shapes or their names.

I'm sorry for my long-ass messages but your comic is a wonderful example of how time, creativity and love can create a brilliant creation. I reread your comic often cause I constantly find new details and references. I really think about making a whole document and write down everything I notice. But you know what all of that tells me? How much you love your work and how much time you send on doing it. It's the background (colours of the sky while introducing Diamond, or when Hope and Storm meet when they're older), it's the details (a tree that Diamond and Amber use to climb has claw marks on it, many people would forget to include it there), it's the character designs (the similarities in Hope's family and how you can tell they're family by little details), it's the references to the story itself (Adamant saying that Hope's hunt was intense as a reference to her first hunt) and so much more. I know why I love your comic so much - it's cause you guys love it so much and you put that love in it. Me, and I believe other folks here, will never be greatful enough for creating a comic where we don't have to face sexism, homophobia, ableism, where we have a great representation and we can be inspired to create our own characters and stories. So, thank you <3

As a gesture of my thankfulness (I hope this word exists) I have a pun for you. Get ready!

So I couldn't help but notice that in Fade's description there's a following sentence: "He's determined to earn his father's approval, especially since his older sisters already have it". So can I say that he's afraid that he will fade away (hihi) in the bright and radiant (hihi) lights of his sisters? *ba dum tssss*

No, but seriously, that was intentional?

So, I've been sick and pretty meh over Christmas (just a cold, no biggie) and it's comments like this that always cheer me up. Thank you so much, anon. You're so sweet and we're so happy to hear you're enjoying the comic. You and the rest of our readership and your kind words are truly what inspire us eee

and lolol nice pun. As for Fade's name, we wanted him to be named after his mummy but, at the same time, it's also pretty fitting that he's ended up with the odd name out of his siblings like you've pointed out, yep. I also suspect it'll be fitting in another way as the story carries on too. ;D - RJ

[alexdelray1]

Miles 42 x Fem Reader.

Warnings: Bad words and mentions of death.

Type: Fluff.

One and last time people. I am Reader Corrow.

I come from Earth 42 and at the age of 15 I was infected with spider DNA through an accident in my aunt's lab. Better not to go into details. I've been the only Spider-Woman for several months now. I saved a lot of people, arrested some bad guys and killed one guy in self-defense, but it's not the best memory. I'm not the best student or genius so my aunt made my costume understanding my situation. It is beautiful. I just don't know what else to say about it.

I've been going to 'Visions' school for two years and I'm studying there to become a scientist. Great ambition, great power and great responsibility. It's true that it's terrible pressure, but it works. I also have my friend Miles. He's kind of how to say...weird. He wasn't always like this, but after his dad died, he started to get darker and more mysterious. At first I thought it was normal after losing a loved one that he goes somewhere at night and don't want to talk as much as he used to. I went through it myself, but it's been going on for a year. So is Prowler's presence on the streets of New York.

-Miles, do you have time today?- I asked him on the way home from school. Miles looked the other way, still serious.

-Not really.- he replied, sighing.

-What are you doing today, mister mystery?- I joked and chuckled.

-None of your business.- he replied still seriously.

-Ok I understand. Don't be so tense. - I didn't want to delve into the topic anymore because I knew that he would sulk soon.

-Sorry. I just don't have time lately. Do you understand?- He stopped and asked me.

-Yeah. I see. We have exams soon anyway and you're top of the class. You can't take a geek's nose out of a book.- I laughed and started walking towards his house again because it was closer.

-Yeah. Sometimes I wonder if I'm smart or you're a bunch of idiots. Eh, I'm betting on both.- Miles finally joked and we started laughing.

-Maybe you're right. Okay, we're at your place. - I said and we stood in front of his tenement house.

-Bye Reader. See you tomorrow.- He replied and started walking up the stairs to the door.

-Bye Miles.- I said goodbye and walked the other way. I hope he doesn't fall asleep at his desk again.

TIME SKIP.

This costume is not only very comfortable, but also metal. I normally have Tony Stark-like technology. And it's fucking awesome with that costume. Now all I have to do is wait for some motherfucker to come and destroy it by ripping my stomach open. But that's not until I get a kid and Marvel thinks my life is a little too happy.

-This view gets prettier every night.- I sighed while sitting on the roof of the skyscraper. It's night time and the criminals get up to get kicked in the ass by me. My spider sense warned me. I caught the knife that was thrown at me.

-And you keep getting uglier and smaller every night.- Prowler commented behind me.

-I can say the same about your dick Prowler.- I retaliated and he let out a disgruntled grunt.

-Hahaha funny now let's get serious.- He said sarcastically and aimed a blow at me.

-You know there's always time to switch sides.- I said blocking his attack.

-No thanks, I like my old good side.- He replied trying to throw me off balance.

-It's funny, because you're not on the good side at all.- I laughed, kicking him in the face and he fell a few meters away.

-You're probably always like this.- He commented and got to his feet, preparing to attack.

-Oh, you are very nice. I'll be honest.- I said and he laughed.

-What can I say. I'm always nice to some level.- He replied and attacked me.

-This level is probably in the negative.- I jumped and landed behind him.

-As always, painfully honest. And don't wait. It means that you lie to most of the people around you with some excuses. Tell me. How many people know you're Spider-Woman?- he asked, trying to evoke my sadness.

-Do you count the dead people?- I asked, placing my hands on my hips.

-You can't discriminate against the dead.- he replied, raising his arms.

-Two. And don't try this tactic. I bet you do that yourself. Lie to everyone. Except for one person. I don't believe you're alone in this shit.- I said.

-Maybe you're right. May not. You're an interesting person. I'm curious what faces you are making under this mask now. - He confided and started to approach me.

- You sound like a psychologist. And under my mask I make faces that are meant only for me, my mirror and nice people. And you don't look like a mirror or a nice person.- my 'watch' started to pip.

- Shit.- I cursed and started to fight the Prowler.

-Spider-Woman from Earth 42 is being called to the main hall on Earth 2099. Immediately.- My 'watch' started chirping.

-What?- asked the confused Prowler, trying to grab my hand on which I had a 'watch'.

-Fuck. Lyla. Can't you see I'm busy?- I asked my "watch" and kicked the Prowler in the face.

-It is very important. We have a 'rebel' and you have to help the others stop him.- Lyla said without showing up.

-It's so stupid. Let the boy or girl do whatever they want on his or her earth.- I sighed, ignoring the fact that the Prowler got up from the ground.

-But he's an anomaly on his own earth...- Lyla said and I froze.

-Oh shit. I'll be there in a moment. Sorry handsome, but I have work to do. - I said and stood on the edge of the building.

-Wait! What's the deal with Earth 42 and what was it?!- Prowler tried to run up to me, but I jumped off the roof.

-Bye bye!- I said and opened the portal. I flew into it, leaving my villain behind. What a pity I couldn't kick his ass longer.

END. Do you guys like Beyoncé?

[linkspooky]

Sending this ask as a virtual high five because you're one of the few people who have had similar thoughts about jjk as I do; Gojou as a very very flawed teacher (not a father figure to his students), Gojou as a person who has never left his time in high school, being able to tell how the latest fight would turn out from before it even started and most importantly seeing jjk as the tragedy (with a, imo, hopeful ending) it is.

Seriously, I thought I was too out of the shounen mentally by the way it felt like I was reading a completely different manga from the majority of jjk fans, I'm glad to know there's at least 10 of us about lol.

Since we appear to have a similar mentality I have some things I'd love a 2nd opinion on if you ever have the time for it:

1. I tend not to stick to "statements made by the author before a series finishes as gospel", but I keep thinking about this one interview with Akutami where he said he planned to either end the story with only one of the characters alive or all, but one (mcs as in Gojou, Megumi, Nobara & Yuuji). I keep thinking since the "1 of them alive" ending is closer to the true one, that it'd more ironically tragic for Yuuji to be the one to live, do you lean towards Megumi more in this hypothetical or Yuuji?

2. Some people have raised the idea that the narrator for jjk is an unreliable one, I've never really thought about it before I saw that one text box of the narrator just saying [Why?] during the Sukuna v. Gojou fight, just as unsure as Gojou was in the same panel. I don't know if I agree because the other examples feel a little too ambiguous for me (parapharsing here of course, but regarding when Yuuji is said to be "choosen by the black sparks" when he pulls off the black flashes vs when it's said "[they?/black flashes?] don't choose who to bless" when Yuuji fails to pull them off in his fight against Mahito in Shibuya & how it seemed to favour Kenjaku a little too much on the Yuki + Choso fight). To me the narration in jjk always felt like a blend or more like it would switch between a more object omniscient voice and a particular character's. What are your thoughts on it?

Thank you, or your nice words!

I've already stated this before but I'm in the camp that only one of the main characters will survive the manga, and it will be Megumi. I'm working on a post on why I think Megumi is going to live that I'll post up eventually.

The narration is tricky. I reread the Yuki vs. Kenjaku fight and there was only one instance of the third person objective narrator appearing to explain anything other than the laws of physics it says (They miscalculated) when talking about Tengen and Yuki being caught offguard by the act Kenjaku had a barrierless domain like Sukuna. I don't think it favored Kenjaku a little too much.

As for the Yuji vs. Mahito fight, Gege actually explains that just before Yuji pulls a black flash to finish Mahito he thinks "I need a black flash" and then the narrator explains that Black Flash's can't be done by anyone on command but Yuji was fighting so skillfully at the moment he made it appear that he was controlling them. The line "The Black Sparks don't choose who to bless" was said because anyone can pull off a Black Flash even Mahito. You don't get a Black Flash because you really need one to win a fight, you get one by being skillful so your opponent can use one too. Considering that Yuji was referred to as being "chosen by the black sparks" previously in the manga I wonder if Gege threw this line in to clarify the contradiction, that no one was chosen by the black sparks in truth it just appeared as so.

That's the Doylist explanation though, that Gege was using the prose to clarify that Yuji is winning because he's skilled at landing punched not because of plot convenience. The Wattsonian explanation is in a twitter thread in the comments of this post that the objective narrator isn't as objective, first it leads us to believe Yuji is chosen because Yuji views himself as the protagonist of a shonen manga and then afterwards when Mahito uses a black flash that mistaken assumption is corrected.

Narration-wise, I think we have three types of personal narration, personal thoughts, a person explaining their own technique, and a third impersonal objective narrator. The objective narrator infodumps stuff that can't be explained by one person, and also appears to say information the character probably wouldn't admit too like the narrator informing us that Sukuna felt fear for the first time in his life. These are objective statements not subjective ones.

[she-daemon]

DMC3 Dante/Lady fluff

by User_1

Context: right after the end of DMC3 (happens after the cut scene that plays BEFORE credits)

"So Dante, now that it's all over, what are you gonna do next?"

"Sleep."

"You mean right here?" Lady motioned toward the rubble they stood on, surprised.

"That's not exactly what I had in mind, but I guess it would be fine if I had to."

Lady laughed. Dante grinned.

"How about you? Where are you headed?"

"Well, I inherited a house from my mom - sort of a summer house, I've been staying there lately. Its not far from here actually."

Lady turned to Dante. "Do you really have nowhere to go?"

"I have a place. Actually, I stand corrected - I *did*. Then demons attacked and the whole place got wrecked."

"Oh. That's pretty serious."

"See, it's right over there -" Dante pointed to the ruins of his parlor.

"So what are you gonna do?"

"Meh, I don't really care. I know a place or two I could crash until I get another job."

Lady peered at him through suspicious eyes and bent forward, hands on her hips.

"Do you though?"

"What's it matter to you? I'll figure it out one way or another."

"I never got to thank you properly for helping me. I can lend that summer house to you until you find a place for yourself. It's the least I could do, really."

"That's nice, but I really shouldn't. You don't even know me, do you really want to let me into your house?"

Lady ignored his comment.

"I also didn't get to say sorry for shooting you."

"That was ages ago. Anyway its fine, see?" Dante smiled and moved away his bangs, showing his forehead, clearly, so Lady could see. All that was left was a red bump.

She tapped it with her index finger.

"Ow! I thought you were apologizing!"

"Aww, you've got a boo boo on your forehead!"

"Hey!" Dante was getting the feeling Lady was (patronizingly) treating him like a baby.

"Anyway, I'm gonna head home. Seriously, consider it. I don't like being in debt! Its just to the left and down the main avenue!" Lady almost had to yell the last half of her sentence because she started walking away a bit early.

"See ya, Lady!" Dante cupped one of his hands around his mouth.

He watched her walk away a little further, readjusting the Kalina Ann every few steps. Dante wondered if it was difficult for her to carry it, since it's almost as tall as she was. Dante's speculation didn't last long because he saw Lady limp and stumble onto the ground. Without thinking, he ran to her.

"Lady! Lady? Are you okay?" When Dante got to her, he saw the bloodied bandage on her leg. She was acting so cheery earlier, it was almost impossible to tell that she'd been stabbed with the same bayonet she carried on her back. It was a miracle she was even walking in the first place.

"Huh? Oh, it's you. Sorry. I hate to admit it, but I don't have miracle regeneration like you. It sucks to ask, but can you help me back up?"

"Sure, but are you planning on walking like that?" Dante helped Lady up.

"You got a better idea?" As soon as Lady asked, she regretted her question.

"Yes. Yes I do." Dante picked up the Kalina Ann, which had been laying on the floor, and swung it onto his back. Then, he scooped Lady up, taking extra care of her leg.

"What!? What are you doing? I'm fine, you don't-"

Dante sighed. "Why do girls always say they're fine when they're not?" He looked intently at Lady.

"..." Lady had nothing to say.

"You said your place was close right? You'll get there, don't worry. Relax, its easier to carry you."

"Is it really okay though?"

"Yeah ... its okay."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

~Cue Lady in a blanket on the couch~

Lady woke up to a warm lamp light, and she found herself on a couch. It was her home. She sat up and looked around.

"...Hello?" Then she heard a noise in the kitchen. It was Dante.

"Oh, you're awake. How are you feeling?" He walked toward her, carrying two steaming mugs.

"Sorry to raid your pantry. Want something to drink?"

"Huh? Oh. It's fine." She took one of the mugs from Dante's hand.

Lady looked Dante up and down. That 'bad boy' outfit Dante always wore was the subject of much speculation for Lady: no shirt, just a coat, pants, boots, and a weapons strap that looked like the victim of countless bra jokes. If she thought about it too long, her mind went down some dark paths.

"To be honest, you don't seem like much of a tea drinker."

"Neither do you, bayonet girl."

"Hey, it might not look like it now, but I used to be pretty bookish."

"I'd like to see that. No one but Vergil can read books and look cool at the same time."

"If I read books on opening the gates to hell, I could pull off that look too."

END

[yisony07]

Masked Anniversary Live

Thanks to @greenface94 for the masked pic.

As the sun went down, with the last of its rays illuminating Chris's white skin with a golden hue, a sigh escaped from his pink and somewhat meaty lips while a couple of beads of sweat ran down the nape of his neck from his blonde hair. Sighing, he brought the microphone closer. He tapped the table with his fingers as he kept his eyes narrowed, fixed on the screen. With his other hand he moved the computer mouse slowly and precisely, as if the slightest mistake would cause a catastrophe.

"And… done!" he exclaimed when he finished, he sighed and wiped the sweat with a blue towel that rested on his lap. He looked down at the ground for an instant, for near his feet was a box, which he did not wish to damage. When he was sure nothing had happened to it, he turned to the screen. "I think it turned out very well, what do you think?" he asked.

Chris was in the middle of his usual stream as an influencer and nsfw artist when he set out to do a drawing. That day was his anniversary, and Chris had planned to give his husband a comic of their best moments that he had been drawing for weeks, and it was at that moment that he finished the last details. Both he and his audience had a drawing of Chris and his husband, Mark, embracing and kissing on the screen, with the phrase "Happy Anniversary" accompanied by flowers.

Users, all adults, congratulated Chris or gave positive comments regarding his work; Chris thanked blushing while he read the messages in the chat and talked. Then he turned on the printer to print the comic pages.

"I would have liked to accompany it with something more romantic, you know?" Chris began to speak as the pages turned up. "We've been around for a few years and it's been good, but I feel like… something is missing…don't get me wrong! We love each other very much, I just want to feel that warmth of your closeness… I'd like to show you, let you see how we are more or less, but it won't be possible..."

Chris was reading people's messages showing their point of view or asking questions about his life as a couple that Chris answered. He realized the time when the printer finished its job, so he warned that they would be the last messages he would read and respond to while preparing the comic. Almost instantly a particular message came up that caught his attention.

Anonym0506: Did you get the gift I sent you? It'll for sure be useful for you when you're together.

"Wow, Anonym0506, was that you?" he asked in astonishment as he pulled the box under the table. "Thank you so much for taking the time to send me something, let's open it up!" Almost with the enthusiasm of a boy, he tore open the box, sorted through and undid the wrappings until he found the object: a curious mask.

"Whoa…" Chris murmured. He wasn't that surprised, he really expected something more impressive, but he didn't want to seem ungrateful either, so he did his best to sound honest. "A nice wooden mask." Chris moved the mask closer to the camera so the audience could see it. "I've never seen anything like it, do I look original?" he asked, aligning the mask with his head. From behind the material looked attractive, well preserved despite the years. Little by little, Chris brought it closer to his face until, just inches from his skin, Chris felt the mask, inert, inanimate, sucking in his skin. Due to the shock, Chris immediately pushed the mask away, his eyes were wide and his breathing was ragged, as if he had just run a marathon.

"What the hell, Anonym… What kind of item did you bring me?! Do you want to kill me?!" he asked, almost hysterical, leaving the mask on the desk. "He sucked my face out of nowhere!" he exclaimed as he calmed his breathing. People were freaking out, some thinking he was playing and others taking it seriously. Thinking about it though, Chris realized that it wasn't just his face that had fallen victim to the mask. "How…? Why?" he wondered as he ran a hand over his bulge, slightly stiffened. At that moment, he read the message from Anonym0506:

This is how it works, Chris, you have to let it happen, and please stand back a bit, so we can get a full, good look at you. You're gonna love it. 🔥

Chris hesitated for a moment. The sun was on the horizon, the sky was tinged with purple and Chris's skin looked more natural, with the same amount of sweat running down his body. His blue eyes fixed on his mask, which emitted a subtle glow, as if it were calling out to him.

Chris was conflicted. He decided to take pages and staple them together, although his eyes never stopped looking at the inner side of the mask, which from time to time emitted that greenish glow. There was something strange, like a magical touch that invited adventure, on the verge of living new and exciting experiences, but at the same time the fear of the unknown, of making the wrong decision and falling into the clutches of darkness. Despite that, he sighed and chose to trust his subscriber. He finished with the comic and put it aside.

"Okay, people, I'll try it on. If something bad happens… I loved you all (and you know who to blame, hehe), and treat my husband well…". With his manly hands Chris took the mask and took one last look at it. It had emitted that glow again, but unlike the other times, the glow was reflected in his skin and in his blue eyes, which were tinted with luminous green for a very brief moment that went unnoticed by almost everyone. Chris sighed and placed it on his face.

Contact with his skin activated the mask, and it pressed its edges against the contour of his face as it leapt and sucked at his face, moving, changing its texture, adjusting its orifices before colliding with his face again. Chris screamed and tried to remove it, it had been a mistake! He placed his fingers on the edge of it to see if he could peel the mask off of himself. He couldn't help but moan, the mask moving from side to side, forcing Chris's head to spin from side to side as well. His attempts were in vain, the mask conquered more and more ground than the skin of his head. Green bolts shot out of the mask and moved across his body, and Chris's moans grew higher. Chris tried to get up, but he couldn't, as if his butt was glued to the seat. He took hold of the mask once more and he began to pull on it. The mask was moving away from him, but it was still clinging tightly to his head with its tentacles on the edges of it. As Chris's strength faltered, the mask collided hard with his face.

"Fuck… Ah… Aaah… Mphmfph…." It was what could come out of his lips. He couldn't ask for help, though… Did he want help? It was starting to feel so good, he felt like an idiot for wanting to take it off in the first place. He didn't know if it was the mask, but his hands moved to his shirt, he undid the top buttons, revealing his pecs to the public, and massaged his nipples. Lacking any opposition or any form of resistance, it reached out to cover his entire head, merging into the back of Chris's head. The holes in the mask had become an extension of his features, and Chris gave another cry of pleasure.

His hands moved all over his own body, especially his hardened bulge from which pre-cum dripped. He moaned and moaned like an animal in heat. He even took off his shirt completely, exposing his hunky body.

"Fuck… Mark… Mark… Holy God!!" He was yelling while he rubbed and rubbed. Users commented excitedly on posts showing how horny they were because of the show, especially when Chris brought his covered head up to the camera. Anonym0506 was ecstatic, like a dream come true. Chris didn't care, he didn't pay attention to them, only the pleasure that the mask imbued on him was what occupied his mind and body, but before he could cum, his body along with the chair began to spin in a green tornado for the whole room. The users were impressed and dazzled, expectant of what would happen.

Mark closed the door of the house. He stood with his shoulders slumped and a defeated face as he carried a pink and brown box that he carried carefully. Not seeing his husband around, Mark assumed that he was in his study and headed there. As he got closer, the sound of strong gusts of wind became more and more audible to his ears. Curious and surprised, Mark reached the door, as he could, he held the box with one of his hands and opened the door, just to see how a tornado spin until it stopped in an instant in front of the screen, revealing a portentous and imposing figure, bare chested, openly displaying those gigantic bodybuilder muscles, worthy of worshiping, and a green face that was on top of his head like a second skin that was fused together. That attractive body and that sexy face that stared at him and gave him a smile that caused Mark to stain his pants with pre-cum as soon as he saw it.

"I'm burning hot, baby!" the figure yelled, and that low, sensual voice made Mark tremble and begin to drool, he was petrified by what he saw. Mark.exe had stopped working with that tremendous input.

"C-chris?" he stammered, doing his best to stay on his feet and hold onto the box he was carrying. "H-happy anniversary… I-I brought you your f-f-favourite…dessert."

"Did the mouse get your tongue, honey?!" said Masked Chris pulling Mark into his huge arms in an instant (the box flew out of Mark's arms, but magically landed gracefully and unscathed on the desk, right next to the comic) and placed it on his own lap; Mark could feel the huge bulge brushing against his legs and cheeks.

Chris pressed his lips to Mark's, kissing him hard, passionately, as if Chris needed it as much as breathing, while he linked Mark's body with his arms. Mark responded blindly, his mind clouded by the delicious sensations that ran through his body. The chair was moved to a position in which the camera could capture the scene, the sensual, passionate, wild kisses being the center of its focus.

In a fit of pleasure, Chris smiled and ripped Mark's shirt, at which point Mark realized that his kissing scene was being streamed. As if a bucket of cold water had been dropped on him, he groaned in shock and hid in Chris's body, his movement causing the chair to spin around and Chris's back was facing the camera.

"What's wrong, honey?! You weren't liking it? How about we improve the atmosphere?!"

Chris took the pieces of Mark's shirt and passed them around the room as if it were the frame of a screen, and instantly scented candles accompanied the light from the lamps, as well as some flowers and romantic decorations.

"So… better?" he asked with his bright smile.

"Y-yes, but…" Mark pointed to the computer screen. Chris's smile widened.

"My friends here pay me to entertain them with my talent," Chris said, turning the chair around again, which was extended to the size of a piece of furniture and reduced the back, although it kept its wheels and its texture. "Why don't we give them the show they deserve, my dear?"

Chris continued to kiss Mark, clutching his body to his own with his huge arms before ripping off Mark's pants, laying him on the seat, and laying on top of him.

The sight of his husband under him made Chris's heart nearly jump out of his chest. His tongue extended and he went to Mark's penis and gave it a blowjob. Mark moaned and moaned as his hands stroked Chris's hair. Before Mark could cum, Chris went to kiss him. Then Chris took off his owm pants, and Mark was able to admire his grown cock, Chris licking his lips in anticipation.

"It's b-bigger than usual… Do you think I c-can handle it?" Mark asked, intimidated by the size.

"Do what you can for me, okay?" Masked Chris replied with a smile that beamed.

Mark, hypnotized by his beauty and his love, moved to adopt a more comfortable position and thus take the glans. Chris placed his hands tenderly on Mark's head to guide his movements. He didn't know if it was because of the mask's powers, but Mark didn't find it uncomfortable to have the penis despite its size, so he sucked without a problem. The public only saw Mark covering Chris's penis while he moaned and changed his gestures to show how much pleasure he felt; the comments went wild, and donation messages popped up from time to time. Minutes later, Chris removed Mark from his penis and kissed him before laying him down again and inserting his cock, so Chris could see Mark's face while thrusting.

The couple moaned together, their hands entwined and from time to time Chris leaned in and they both kissed. Sweat broke out on their bodies and their body odors mixed with that of scented candles and the aroma of dessert. Along with their voices, the room screeched with the sound of the chair at Chris's movements. They were close, almost...

"Fuck… Chris… Almost there…" Mark moaned, admiring his masked husband.

"Just a little more… A-agh… F…Fuck!!"

Chris pulled his penis out of Mark, and they both cummed with such intensity that the chair went backwards and collided with the wall. Upon impact, the mask flew off Chris's head and landed on the desk, on the keyboard, ending the transmission. Chris, with his normal appearance and his normal body, was on top of Mark's body, spurts of their semen between them.

"That was… amazing" Mark gasped… "What was that?"

Without bothering to move his body, Chris and Mark talked about what had happened; Chris explained about the mask as he finished his gift. He looked at the screen and realized that the transmission had closed. After resting and cleaning up, the couple continued with their plans, enjoying dessert as they relived their best moments together with the comic. Later, both of them were cuddling in bed, ready to sleep.

"You know, maybe tomorrow you could try it yourself, what do you think?" Chris suggested upon seeing the mask.

"Okay, we'll see tomorrow." They kissed before going to sleep.

-End-

[therealvikingstrash]

Hello. I just read the post about a anon that has been rude to you (must admit I have silently been following the conversation) 🫣Just thought I’d drop a message and say a huge thanks for the effort you put in (I know you run a couple of pages that are constantly putting new things about Vikings) Personally I live for these updates day to day 🤭 I am fairly new to tumblr and I am slowly trying to get over my shyness so I can comment more and interact with people ( until couple of months I didn’t even know how to request and I learned about the meaning of re blogging couple of weeks ago 😅😅😅) But I just wanted to say thanks 🙏

Hey, love! 😊

Haha, I noticed! (The being active part, I'm not some weirdo who knows you're watching 🤣) It's nice to see new people interacting and I love that you're actively overcoming your shyness, that's not easy after all. From what you're telling me, you've made some major steps already! You can be really proud of yourself 🤗

We all started somewhere on tumblr xD and what a lovely addition to fandom you are 😊

Thank you! Seriously, from the bottom of my heart thank you! Your message has made me smile and put me in a way better mood 💕It makes me happy to know that those posts and reblogs are cherished and I'm sure my partner-in-fandom tlkvikings thinks so too.

I hope you have a wonderful day/evening wherever you are 🤗