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sevensoulmates · 11 months ago

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Buddie 7x06 Meta

HURRAH! It's not a four-parter this time!! Just a one-parter! It's a Madney/Chim-centric episode (which by the way I loved) but the buddie we got was AMAZING! I'm so excited for the rest of the season. We're just gonna dive right in!

First, I want to say that with the hindsight of this episode, we now know that the bachelor party was not ACTUALLY something that needed to happen, narrative-wise. It didn't actually contribute anything to the Chim plot, as that would've happened with or without buddie going crazy in the hotel room. So, all of the Bachelor Party was written purely for the purpose of watching Buck and Eddie have a good time. Maybe for comedic relief, maybe for the purposes of furthering their story at a later point in the series. Time will tell.

First, I've seen other people point out that Buck expected Eddie to be early (even though he's the first person there) because he wanted Eddie to help him set up for Chim's party. To Buck, Eddie is the person who helps him with everything. This is Buck's idea, yes, but Eddie is the proverbial co-host in this married dynamic. So Eddie being "late" feels more like Buck being disappointed his partner wasn't there to help him behind the scenes to make everything perfect. It really does make the whole scene feel like Buck-and-Eddie (the bro-in-laws) throwing the party. So of course Eddie's breaking the unspoken rules by being late.

I love how Eddie walks in completely ready to be fawned over by Buck with their couple's outfit. It's hilarious to me because 1.) Tommy was planning on coming, Buck could've told Eddie he wanted to do a couple outfits with Tommy instead?, and 2.) Eddie was fishing for compliments and it just makes me giggle. If Buck wasn't so stressed out over this bachelor party, he likely would've reacted how Eddie wanted and given him a bunch of compliments on his look. It was jaw-dropping. If most of us (the audience) were blown away seeing Eddie in a pink suit for the first time in the bts (to the point where most of us were like "no way he's in character, this has to be Ryan's wardrobe choice"), I know that the other characters were too. It's not Eddie's typical wardrobe choice. In fact, it's such an out-of-character fashion choice for him, that it's unlikely that Eddie just had this lying around in his closet to throw on. He probably had to go and buy a suit like this just for the occasion. Eddie had to put in a lot of effort to do this couple's costume with Buck, and he did it all happily and enthusiastically. We'll come back to this in just a second because...

CLIPBOARD BUCK IS BACK! sans clipboard but you get my drift. I love how this visually connects Buck to his sister and harkens back to a lovely Buddie moment "This is Eddie's house, I'm not really a guest" back in season 3. This time around, we have Eddie assuming he would get special husband privileges and is pouty when Buck doesn't allow it.

BUT at the same time, he's not getting on Buck's case too much about it beyond the initial pouting. He may not know why Buck's so insistent on throwing a party, but he knows it's what Buck wants, so he moves on, and even watches with somewhat amusement when clipboard Buck gets turned on Ravi for doing the same thing later.

I also want to point out that Eddie has never once, ever, been upset with, annoyed by, or irritated with Buck when he's in Clipboard Buck mode. Most of the time, Eddie either finds it amusing cute, or is just generally accepting of it. This is no exception, however, this later devolves into Buck and Eddie going absolutely wild. This further exemplifies how Buck and Eddie accept and support each other, even when the other is being lowkey stupid (everything they do at the bachelor party) or unreasonable (clipboard Buck). It's all very much partner in crime coded.

Framing. Jesus Christ the FRAMING. Tommy walks in and not even two seconds into the interaction, the camera frames Eddie FRONT AND CENTER between them, watching Buck and then watching Tommy. Buck and Tommy hug and when they pull back, there's Eddie watching them with an odd look on his face. I'm not going to go so far as to call this jealousy/pettiness, but it is odd. There's an intimate physical moment between Buck and Tommy, and then Eddie, who constantly haunts their narrative, is just there. And he's actually objecting to Tommy's presence there. Not in a mean or hostile way, but just a second ago he was high-fiving Tommy, welcoming him in, but once the physical special relationship between Buck and Tommy is established, Eddie starts to bristle a little bit.

This entire exchange is just odd. Eddie knows that Tommy is friends with Chim. He has every right to be there for Chim alone. He's also aware that Buck now has a closer relationship with Tommy, and Buck's the only one who wants this bachelor party, so it should be obvious that Tommy would come. And yet...Eddie is questioning Tommy's presence there. He's reducing Tommy to Buck's "date", not Eddie's friend or Chim's friend, or someone who's slowly integrating into the group. No, it only becomes a problem when Tommy is there as "Buck's date".

This is then proven by Tommy, who's actually known Chimney longer than either Buck or Eddie have known him. He has all the right to be invited. But what's especially interesting is Buck's face when Eddie starts expressing objections to Tommy's presence. He looks shocked, a little worried, loss for words. Like he's worried Eddie is disapproving of them. It could be worry lingering from last episode, where Buck was afraid of his queerness pushing Eddie away. It also showcases a bit of awkwardness between Tommy and Eddie too. Eddie has been established as enjoying spending time with Tommy, and now he's hesitant to have Tommy in spaces with Buck as a romantic partner. It demonstrates that maybe Eddie isn't as comfortable with Buck and Tommy together as he led Buck/the audience to believe. But where is that uncomfortablity stemming from? That's yet to be determined canonically.

Buck then goes on the deny that Tommy is his date (for the bachelor party) and insists that Tommy is only his date officially tomorrow at the wedding. I personally don't understand why Buck would need to clarify that Tommy isn't his date to the bachelor party. If they're dates for one, it's usually assumed they're dates for the other, especially given how close the events are. I get that Buck wants to make the night about Chimney, but it can be about Chimney and still have Tommy there as a date.

This is also an interesting line that I've pondered over. Because while it's true that taking Tommy as a date anywhere would be hard launching both Buck's queerness and his relationship with Tommy, which could draw attention away from Madney and to Buck, but it also shouldn't be that big of a deal (and is proven at the end of the episode too). If the wedding had gone to plan originally, then Buck and Tommy going together wouldn't have had to have drawn too much attention. He could've told Chim, Hen, his parents + everyone separately before the ceremony even began. It didn't have to be such a huge deal, so I was wondering why Eddie brings out the usual phrase the show tends to use when they want to remind Buck that not everything is about him. But Buck wasn't trying to make it about him. Eddie should know this. As much as Buck has had issues in the past of taking things far too personally, and believing things to be more about him than they actually are, that's not what is happening here.

I actually think Eddie saying this line is more revealing of Eddie's feelings than it is about Buck making it about him again. It's revealing that Buck, his relationship with Tommy, and Buck's queerness are a big deal to Eddie, enough so that he believes it will draw a lot of attention. And maybe Eddie's not as cool with the idea of everyone knowing about Buck and Tommy as he tells himself. I want to reiterate that I don't believe any of this stems from legit homophobia towards Buck and/or Tommy, but more so a discomfort Eddie harbors about Buck's queerness, what it means for Eddie, and what Buck being with Tommy takes away from Eddie. All of this is unconscious, confusing, and frustrating for Eddie, and therefore what comes out of Eddie's mouth is a barb at Buck's expense. And it's why his reaction to BuckTommy at the end of the episode is kind of muted but mostly positive. He's confused.

Buck had told Tommy previously that it was an 80s theme party and asked him to dress up. This brings me back to my previous point that Buck could've asked Tommy to dress up with him. Instead, Buck and Eddie are framed as the literal "couple" here visually, and Tommy is framed as the odd one out. Not only that, but what he is wearing is a Henley, which as most of us know, is a staple of Eddie's wardrobe. (General author's note: I don't usually harp on about wardrobe choices in the show because that's not my specialty but I will here because it is a textual part of the plot).

We've previously established in the last few episodes that Tommy is a narrative mirror to Eddie. Tommy's meant to be like Eddie in almost every way, same interests, similar personality types, etc. He's even paralleling Eddie here by dressing the same way Eddie normally dresses. But it's being juxtaposed by Eddie standing right beside him (once again Eddie is framed in the middle throughout this entire exchange with Buck/Tommy when Eddie very easily could've just stepped off to the side to let them have some privacy). EDDIE is dressed way differently than he usually is in a bright pink suit, going out of his way to make Buck happy even if it brings him out of his comfort zone wardrobe-wise. And in contrast, Tommy did not take the time to dress up, even though he knew Buck wanted him to. I'm not saying that this makes Tommy a bad person, or inconsiderate of Buck, but it's just one of those little things. One of those forethought things that Tommy just isn't aware of because he's only been dating Buck for a few weeks at this point.

Others have pointed out that Tommy would've had to change out of his clothes and into his uniform regardless if he was on standby, so why couldn't he have at least just added a little bit of 80s flair to his current outfit? It wouldn't have been any more time-consuming. Maybe it would've put Tommy out of his own comfort-zone, or maybe he would've been a bit embarrassed, but that's the kind of thing that one might reasonably risk in order to make their partner happy.

Tommy isn't aware that by not dressing up, he's hurting Buck's feelings. That's just one of those things he wouldn't know about Buck because he does not have the lived experience of what Buck needs emotionally from his partners. Eddie, on the other hand, has years of experience with Buck and knows that if he really wanted to he could be just like everyone else who didn't dress up and that Buck would put on a face of being fine with it, but deep down inside, it would make Buck feel ignored and hurt. Eddie doesn't want to ignore Buck, and as we've seen from his last line about "making it about you", Eddie can't ignore Buck. So even if it means pushing himself out of his comfort zone, Eddie's going to show up in full costume, ready and enthusiastic to be with Buck.

All of this is being done for a purpose. It's to show us that while Buck and Tommy are still learning and developing their relationship, something is off, specifically in comparison to Eddie. The show is purposely framing Eddie as a better partner to Buck than Tommy is being in the current moment. Which is kind of unfair, if you think about it. If the show was setting Tommy up to be Buck's newest love and future endgame, they would instead be giving them opportunities to grow together, to get to know each other. Instead, the show is telling us in every subtly way it can that hey, wouldn't Buck fit so much better with Eddie instead? It's contradictory and doesn't further the plot if BuckTommy growth was the purpose. These bachelor party scenes as plot devices only work if the purpose is to show the audience that something isn't fitting with Buck and Tommy, but whatever that missing piece is, it does fit with Buck and Eddie.

Tommy then doesn't understand that they're supposed to be dressed up as the Miami Vice characters. He instead assumes The Wedding Singer (1998). First, I want to say that this is the 2nd Adam Sandler/Drew Barrymore romcom that's been mentioned in canon in relation to Buck (the first being 50 First Dates in the season 5 finale) and as a huge fan of those movies, I'm fangirling. Second, it aligns with Tommy's s2 characterization where he loves romcoms (Love, Actually, and now The Wedding Singer). Third, it's an interesting choice from the writers here to pick The Wedding Singer as the movie that springs to Tommy's mind. There are plenty of 80s movies with bright colors that could've been name-dropped. They instead purposely went for a movie about the 80s but made in the late 90s, for the express purpose of having Eddie point out that Tommy's wrong. This is all very subtle, but it definitely does feel like Eddie is trying to lowkey one-up Tommy. But why would he feel the need to do this?

I've seen others point this out as well, but The Wedding Singer is about two people who are engaged to other people who are very obviously not right for them, though they might try to convince themselves differently. I rewatched the movie yesterday morning and I found it very enlightening. Adam Sandler's character is very much in love with Drew Barrymore's character, and almost tells her to leave her fiance for him, but in the end, he assumes incorrectly that she's happy with the other guy, and leaves them be. Drew Barrymore's character was ready to settle with someone she didn't fully love for security, and the only reason she doesn't tell Adam Sandler's character the truth is because she thinks he's still in love with his ex. It's all very miscommunication-y, but at the same time, it's reflective of Buck and Eddie's characters currently too given that neither of them really knows what they're looking for, they're just seeking a feeling, and may or may not be finding it in their current respective partners. But in the end, even after all the miscommunications, there's a HEA in The Wedding Singer.

Something else of mention was how in the movie, Adam Sandler's character was asked how he knew that things weren't working out with his ex and he said something along the lines of "It was the little things. Like, one time we were going to the Grand Canyon, and I had never been there before and she had, and instead of letting me take the window seat in order to see the beauty of it from above, she took the window seat for herself." This reminded me of this scene with Tommy, where it's just the little things that aren't fitting between him and Buck. I will come back to the topic of BuckTommy and misalignment later.

There have been many posts discussing how Crockett and Tubbs are another one of those "manly" buddy-cop pairings who were very queer-coded best friends who obviously never got together. Many people believed Crockett to be bi-coded as well. What's interesting to me is that this marks the second/third time in the last two episodes where they argued about who is the bi-coded character. I just find it interesting meta-textually when you think about the fact that fans used to argue incessantly (still do honestly) about whether Buck or Eddie could be queer and now that Buck is confirmed to be queer, people argue that Eddie can't be queer now. Additionally (I don't watch Miami Vice but I looked at a lot of the pictures) it seems that visually, Eddie should be aware that he is dressed as Tubbs, since most of pictures of them feature Crockett in blue/green semi-casual and Tubbs in pink/elevated suits. Visually, their roles should be obvious to anyone who is familiar with the show. Just like how Buck's queerness is now obvious. But now, the argument is well, there's an argument to be made that Eddie could be Crockett, and subtextually, also queer.

The narrative continues to hint with every single episode that passes that it's very likely Eddie will discover his own queerness at some point in the show. Just like there's no need for Buck and Eddie to argue over who gets to be Crockett, they can both be Crockett for christ's sake, they're both gonna end up queer. Of that I am certain.

So not only was Eddie totally down to clown with Buck at this karaoke bachelor party, but he was the one who suggested the couple's costume. We see more instances of Eddie not trying to tell Buck "hey, Chim said he didn't want a party, so don't do it", instead he goes along with it and finds a way to be even more enthusiastic about it. And I don't think that that was just because Eddie really wanted to party. I think it was because Eddie realizes that Buck must be wanting to do this for a reason. Possibly Buck might be doing this because he wants to show Chimney just how supportive he is of him and Maddie, maybe it's because Buck never got to be too involved with Maddie's last wedding because Doug hated him. Maybe this is his way of trying to make up again for his actions in season 5 when Maddie left and Buck didn't tell Chim. Or hell, maybe it's just now hitting Buck that he's going to have a brother, for real now, after realizing all he lost with Daniel, and wants to make this day special for Chim to showcase his appreciation of their brotherhood.

Buck is obviously overcompensating for something, and Chim and the rest of the gang don't realize why the bachelor party is so important to Buck. Hell, Eddie might not know entirely either, but he does sense that there is something more than just "I want to party" going on with Buck and this bachelor party. And so, as always, he is ride or die for Buck.

Then, when everyone else gets up to leave karaoke, Eddie doesn't even get up. He doesn't make it look like he's also considering leaving either. He doesn't check his watch or phone or make it seem like it's a burden or an inconvenience to be there or like there's somewhere else he'd rather be.

Once again, this scene with Tommy and Buck is framed with Eddie clearly in the picture, to show how he's just chilling, drinking, and ready to stick it out with Buck regardless of what happens. And then Tommy is the last one to finally leave and disappoint Buck that night.

And now I want to bring it back to BuckTommy, misalignment, and the ever-present Screaming Universe. If this was real life, it would just be a coincidence, but it's not. This is scripted fiction and everything is done with a purpose. What purpose did the writers have to get rid of Tommy but keep Eddie around to party with Buck all night long? If the writers wanted, they could've had Tommy stick around, more so to show a juxtaposition between the three of them hanging out. Or the writers could've had Eddie leave, and Tommy stay. It would've served the same purpose. Tommy still could've left the next morning for work and come back sooty for the kiss. Instead, the story/universe wanted Tommy to leave and this undeniably creates a micro-conflict between Buck and Tommy. It's undeniable that Buck is disappointed that Tommy's leaving and that he didn't really seem all that enthused to be there in the first place. Tommy then leaves, he's gone for the majority of the episode and comes back at the end. This is now a pattern for the third time in a row.

In Tommy's introduction episode 7x04, he and Buck have a moment at the beginning of the episode, a conflict between Buck and Tommy is introduced, Tommy is there a couple times throughout but he and Buck do not have any one-on-one scenes again until the end where their "miscommunication" is resolved by their kiss. In 7x05, they have their date at the beginning where weirdness happens and Tommy ends it, is gone the rest of the episode, until he returns at the end for Buck to make up with and rekindle. And now in 7x06, Tommy is there at the beginning, there's a misconnection, Tommy leaves for the rest of the episode, and they reconnect at the very end.

That's three whole instances of conflict with BuckTommy all written in a very similar way back to back to back. All of these conflicts revolve around the theme of misalignment and not knowing what they want personally nor what the other person wants. All of this harkens back to that first little moment with Buck and Tommy in 7x03 where Buck pats Tommy's arm, Tommy reaches to connect their hands and misses. I predicted that this would be a metaphor for the rest of their relationship, and so far I've been right. Because it seems like no matter how hard both of them try, they aren't quite connecting, not to the fullest. There is always a conflict that pops up that pulls them apart every single episode and they have to find ways to resolve this at the end. Again, if this was irl it'd be a different story, but as part of a narrative where they're not only trying to showcase Buck's first-ever queer relationship but also strongly comparing it to his "platonic" relationship with Eddie, it feels pointed and poignant. Buck and Tommy's constant misalignment feels like the "universe" trying to tell them something but they're not yet at the point of understanding what.

I highly doubt Buck would've wanted to party with a bunch of strangers if he wasn't feeling so disappointed by both Tommy and Chim. Eddie too, I'm wondering why he didn't want to go home or go be with Chris and visit his family. Or maybe go and see if maybe Marisol wanted to hang out. In fact, Marisol not being in this episode at all, or even mentioned, after the last episode is telling as well.

Many people have pointed out that the karaoke scene parallels Maddie and Chim, and this is even more pointed when the song that is playing when Maddie and Chim get married is Island in the Stream which is the song they first sang karaoke to. Buck and Eddie we know sing "What I Like About You" by the New Romantics, which Oliver, Ryan, and Tim all described as the best song for them to sing to/with each other at this point in time. I still think of it as canon even though we didn't hear it (I get why, they had little time and also licensing is expensive). This song is a romantic song, that's undeniable, and it also makes me think of Shrek and Fiona so it's double iconic. It's also an interesting choice in the moment where Buck is at a low emotional point, and Eddie chooses to stick around with him, indulge with him, and have fun together. It really is a great moment to show how not only are they there for each other in serious and emotional moments, but they also just enjoy spending time with each other, and would choose to spend time with each other any time they can.

Now I wanna talk about just how close physically Buck and Eddie get in this episode. For a lot of us, it's kind of whiplash because while Buck and Eddie have hugged and touched before, never so much in this way, or this much, or this intimately. Buck has his arm around Eddie's neck, their faces closer than they've probably ever been before? Buck is literally whispering into Eddie's ear ("keep on whispering in my ear, tell me all the things that I wanna hear because it's true, that's what I like about you") pulling Eddie into his chest. Eddie's leaning his entire upper body onto Buck, resting most of his weight on Buck. They're pressed together thigh to thigh, leaning their knees on each other. All of this demonstrates not just an emotional closeness, but a physical closeness (thank you, ABC, fuck u Fox), and not only that but an intimate physical closeness. All of this coming right after an episode where Buck came out. I love this because it shows a lack of Eddie being weirded out by being physically close to a queer man as a (seemingly) straight man. But it's also just so telling because Buck and Eddie have not been this physically close before....like ever...in this show. And now they are at the turning point of Buck's queerness being made textual and Eddie's queerness being STRONG subtext? Oh my goodness it's such strong storytelling.

This might be reading into it, and I acknowledge that, but this dialogue exchange felt to me less like they were talking about all the nameless people who were around them and more so like they were talking about each other. These are strangers, they don't know Chim, let alone love him. Neither do these people know/love Buck or Eddie. Instead, this conversation reads to me more like Buck talking about how Chim should be here because his friends (Buck, Eddie, Hen, etc) love him, and Eddie agrees. Looking even deeper, given that Chim didn't show up and the rest of their friends left them for the night, this feels more like Buck and Eddie talking about themselves. Because why is Eddie here? There's no reason for Eddie to be here partying it up except for the fact that he loves Buck and he wants to make him happy and enjoys spending time with him. This exchange is Buck recognizing that, and Eddie agreeing that he really, really does love Buck. And that's why their shenanigans continue as they all move on to Chim's hotel room.

They could've given up/left once Chim's door was locked, but Eddie encourages Buck to keep on going. Touching Buck like how Eddie loves to touch Buck, in the way that's most appropriate for them, on the shoulder like this. Then he kicks the door in and when Buck is ready to go wake Chim up to party, Eddie's like "Eh let him sleep", because, for Eddie, he doesn't really need Chimney around to have fun. Despite what they were just saying about bringing the party to Chimney so that Chimeny could feel the love too, Eddie's perfectly content just partying it up with Buck and only Buck.

These three clips in the bachelor party montage....I'm just gonna be frank with you, they're so obviously meant to look sexual. So CONTENT WARNING**** for me about to talk about sexual positions and such.

I don't have to tell you that although Buck and Eddie are technically partying with a bunch of other people, none of them are actually important. They're NPCs there to give Buck and Eddie an excuse to do all of this stuff with each other. So everything they do in this scene is more so a reflection of their relationship with each other, as well as their metaphorical queerness than it is about just general partying.

We know (due to bts) that at some point Eddie was leaning over to pour alcohol into Buck's mouth. It looks like Buck is leaning back on the couch in his most favorite/frequent canonical sex position (girl on top/riding) that we've seen in the past. This time with his mouth wide open with a phallic symbol pouring a liquid directly into his mouth. It looks like a blowjob/cum shot. Then we have Eddie with his clothes being pulled off and torn away. From the bts, we know that Buck is behind him and helps the girls pull off his sleeves. Other than the obvious "ripping each other's clothes off" metaphor, there's also the "orgasmic" look on Eddie's face as well. Others have also discussed how Eddie appears to be recreating the "crucifixion pose" /Jesus on the cross with his arms out like that in a reference to his catholic guilt arc and how before he's very much let that guilt control him and now in this scene with his close being ripped off, it can also be a metaphor for Eddie's eventually freedom from compulsory heterosexuality and guilt.

The last still with both Buck and Eddie vigorously shaking champagne bottles near the crotches (mimicking mutual masturbation) and then both of the champagne bottles "explode" mimicking both of them reaching a mutual climax, which then cuts immediately to both of them waking up the next morning. It's very very obviously a metaphorical gay sex scene.

Separately from that, I want to discuss this specific still, with both Buck and Eddie in between 2 very clear-as-day drag queens. This inclusion elevates the scene subtly yet very clearly to represent both Buck AND Eddie in proximity to queerness/the queer community. It further cements the queerness of this entire montage scene.

Finally, to conclude the bachelor party scenes, I just want to reiterate, that Buck and Eddie could've figured out Chim was missing any which way. They could've gone over the next morning w/o partying there. Buck could've gone by himself, etc. There were many ways the "Chim is missing" plot could've been done without needing to go this route for Buck/Eddie. Which means that this plot was not for any necessary reason other than to bring Buck and Eddie together.

Then while they're going on their chase to find Chimney, Buck and Eddie are paired up together the entire time, working together as a team, once again looking more like an established couple than anything else.

Then, as if fitting with the BuckTommy "beginning and ending only" episode pattern, Tommy comes back only at the very end of the episode, and he and Buck kiss, transferring soot onto Buck's face and providing a very quick and easy way to come out to all the rest of the people who haven't yet known about Buck. Most people look surprised, others smug (Henren, we'll get to them) and Eddie gives an interesting close-lipped smile. This moment in and of itself isn't very loud. His face is purposely vague here (hats off to Ryan, king of microexpressions). Of course, Eddie's going to look happy for them, he's not going to look jealous. But his smile could be brighter, his eyes could be warmer. There's again just something off about his expression there. I think it's confusing for a reason, because Eddie too is confused about everything he's feeling.

Hen is incredibly smart, so I'm not surprised that she clocked Buck's queerness a while ago. Her telling Karen this, and Karen's agreement means that this is something they likely discussed in private as well. In my opinion, if she was able to clock Buck, there's no way she hasn't also clocked Eddie. She just isn't saying anything because she's a respectful and empathetic person.

Hen wasn't really there for most of Buck's Tommy-arc, but she WAS front and center for all of Eddie's "performance anxiety" around dating women. Trust me, when Eddie figures it out and he and Buck finally get together, Henren will say something along these lines again, I'm certain of it.

And that's the end of this episode! It was such an emotional ride! I loved everything they did with Maddie and Chimney, and the Buddie plot was so fun! I had a blast, and I'm so excited for next week! I get the feeling the latter half of the season is gonna dive deeper into Eddie's storylines. Yay!

#911 abc #buddie #911 analysis #911 meta #buddie meta #BuckTommy #buck x eddie #meta

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bones4thecats · 9 months ago

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Their S/O Assists Them With Their Hair

Characters: Cater Diamond, Leona Kingscholar, Jamil Viper, and Idia Shroud Inspired By: The multiple cards A/N: I have been laying this off to the side for such a long time so I decided to finally write this. Also, I've been having a hard time with the border around the images, so I changed it. Anyways, have fun reading this!! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Nothing. Just pure fluff ⚠️

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╚═════ Cater Diamond ══════════════════════════╝

💎 Cater doesn't change his hair up very often, only making it different when he has special events such as performances for the music club

💎 One day, you received a text from Cater asking if you were going to their next concert the following week, in which you just smiled and replied with a happy yes

💎 You knew from Cater's many messages and calls from his club meetings that they were getting more and more excited and anxious for the day that it came and they would set up and play to their heart's content

💎 Over the passing week, everyone could see how happy the group was, and you had a front seat to it. Since Cater would send you photo and video after one and another of them having fun getting ready

💎 Then came the day

💎 Cater was beyond stressed out, scrolling through his feed to find the perfect hairstyle that he could use for that night, to which you sighed and laid back on his bed as he stressed

"Cater, Honey, are you sure you know what you don't want any help?"

"Yep! Just give me a minute. I'm sure I can find the perfect hairdo!"

💎 The sound of his shoes hitting the floor in a circular motion was giving you a headache, so after about four more minutes, you slapped your hands on the nearby table and told him to sit down

💎 Cater was shocked when you took his phone from his grip and secured it into your pants pocket before grabbing his shoulders and forcing him back on his butt

"Thankfully, Vil taught me enough during the time I spent helping with the VDC. Now, just sit down and relax, I'm sure I can figure something out quick."

💎 As you walked around the bathroom and grabbed multiple brushes and clips to hold his hair as your designed it, Cater watched memorized, you really were beautiful when helping others, weren't you?

💎 It took a mere ten extra minutes for you to decide and fix up his hair, making it into a shaggy-crop style. You smiled and kissed his forehead as he stood up and adjusted a couple light-up weave-like pieces and allowed rose his phone, which you gave back halfway through styling, and took a selfie of you and him

"Hashtag: 'Cay-Cay's S/O' , 'Cay-Cay Getting Ready' , and 'NRC Music Club BTS'. "

"Good luck, Cater."

"Thank you so much, Love Bug."

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╚═════ Leona Kingscholar ════════════════════════╝

🦁 He, unlike other beastman, doesn't enjoy having his hair touched. He does it a certain way and doesn't want it to be messed with like how his brother would do

🦁 This means that every time you would ask to style his hair, he would just open one eye, say no, and then lay down on you. Claiming you as his makeshift pillow for one of his many daytime naps

🦁 To actually get him to agree, you'd most likely have to either wait until a couple months into dating or marriage, and we all wanna know what his hair feels like, don't we?

🦁 Now, when you finally got to touch his hair, Leona had come back to his room drained from the long day. He had gone to all of his classes and then Magift practice. All without a single nap throughout the day

🦁 The guy had practically barreled onto the sheets of his bed after throwing his bag of dirty clothes on the ground. He groaned as you chuckled, opening your arms for him to lay down there

🦁 Thankfully, Leona had taken a shower already and was perfectly clean. Not a single drop of sweat on his body. Meaning he could be curled up on you without you trying to pull/push him to take a shower to get clean

"Leona?" You asked, your head moving from the book Leona gave you a couple weeks ago. He merely growled lowly before looking up and into your eyes and asking what you wanted.

"I was just wondering... if I could- y'know. Touch your hair? You don't have to let me, I understand if you wouldn't want me too!"

🦁 Leona smirked and reached up to take his hair out of the ponytail he lodged it into after showering earlier. His long brown locks dropping down, a slight amount of water there, he obviously was to tired to spend a ton of time drying it

"Have at it."

🦁 Smiling gently as you laid the book down, you began to move his hair around gently, using your fingers like a make-shift brush (did anyone else's mom/dad/guardian do that when they were young?) to get the small knocks out

🦁 After doing that, you began to rub his scalp, allowing him to relax and let out a very low purr, though it sounded more like a satisfied hum to you, and kissed your exposed thigh. He was thankful you were wearing shorts. (Though how could you NOT? It was like over 70 degrees in that dorm!)

"Do you feel better, Leo?" You asked, only to be met with the soft snores of your boyfriend.

🦁 His larger form was hugging you tightly as you chuckled and embraced him back, nudging a blanket on top of your both. He was a lot more than a mere second-born prince to you, he was your one and only prince, from now till the day you die

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Jamil Viper ════════════════════════════╝

🐍 Jamil takes pride in his hair. It has always been one of the only things that he had full control over. Throughout his life he never got full control of anything, except for things like his hair (I know this is wordy, but you get the point)

🐍 Anyways. When you had asked him to do his hair, he was getting ready to cook for the remaining Scarabia members for the spring break. Some students volunteered to stay while others left, he and Kalim volunteered to stay, along with you

🐍 You noticed that he was having a hard time keeping it out of his face, so you excused yourself from the third year and walked into the kitchen

🐍 Jamil was getting more and more frustrated, he was so close to taking the scissors and snipping his ponytail off if it won't stop getting in his way. Thankfully, the sound of your chuckles made him look up and nervously look away, embarrassment was obvious in his expression

🐍 You smiled at him and told him to sit down as he began to put some ingredients away. You had been helping Jamil cook long enough to know that the food needed to simmer for a while, just long enough for you to help him out

"Jamil, would you like your hair completely out of your face? And not done by having it shaved... or cut by kitchen utensils?"

"...yeah."

🐍 Handing him your phone as your began to take his hair out of his ponytail, you told him to just hang out and let you do what you knew best: hair styling

🐍 As you meticulously placed his hair behind his head, Jamil felt relaxed, even more relaxed then ever before. You treated his hair with the amount of care that he did. It was admirable just how much you paid attention to his reactions as you worked

🐍 After maybe a couple minutes, you had patted his hair down and gave him a cheerful done before telling him to turn the camera on and put it in selfie-mode

🐍 He did as he said and was shocked. You did beyond amazing! His hair was completely out of his face, and he didn't look half bad. He had to admit, he needed to put his hair up like that more often when he worked

🐍 Jamil stood up and hugged you, his arms giving you a snug squeeze as you chuckled and kissed his jawline. He smiled and kissed your forehead before thanking you and handing you your phone back. Right before you left though, your boyfriend called your name and asked

"Would you like to help me cook?"

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Idia Shroud ════════════════════════════╝

🎮 This guy. Ho this guy

🎮 When you guys first began dating, he was very off-handed. He was not, and still really isn't a big fan of physical touch. He just doesn't like it that much

🎮 That doesn't mean he hates it, he just prefers to simply spend time together and give you things. He sucks with his words (he overthinks like me), he has a hard time with acts of service (he doesn't go out often, so he can't do much outside of his dorm), and he has a massive issue when touched. He just freezes and stutters a lot more than before

🎮 Idia does like it when you're physically affectionate sometimes. Like when you would lean your head on his shoulder whenever he gets frustrated with a level in a game he has been working on for days to calm him down. He likes that kind of stuff

🎮 So, whenever you would ask to mess with his hair, it goes from a beautiful blue to a campfire-like orange and red, the tips being flushed with pink like his face as he stuttered and mumbled

🎮 After the first couple times, you decided to lay loose and allow him to come to you whenever he wanted you to mess with his hair. It was his choice and his consent and comfort was just as important as your own

🎮 It only took maybe a couple weeks for him to begin wondering why you weren't asking to mess with his fiery locks. But, in true Idia Shroud fashion, the male strayed away from questioning you until the thought was all he could wonder about

"Hey... Y/N?"

"Yeah, Idia?"

"D-do you think, you could maybe... y'know... mess with my hair a bit?"

"What? Please repeat louder, honey."

"Damn it... could you mess with my hair please?"

🎮 You smiled and laid your phone on Idia's desk before he moved away from his gaming chair and sat down in front of you on the bed, continuing to play his game and groan about how the 'noobs were releasing more time camping and not acting as aggro against the boss like he was'

🎮 It was funny how much gamer lingo Idia used when he was outside of class-related situations. But it was quite funny when he then began to speak of how 'op the boss was and how the rest of the players needed to get off their buts and act like true FPSs and help him defeat the bullet sponge of a boss'

(Yes I looked up gamer terms, I am dumb T^T)

🎮 You just chuckled as his face went from petrified as he ran from danger to reload his weaponry to coming up with the most determined expression you had ever seen on him. Playing these games really made him feel better than he was outside speaking to others

🎮 It lasted maybe a couple hours before Idia finally noticed you weren't playing with his long hair anymore. So, he looked up and saw you laying down asleep on his bed, one of his larger hoodies was around your top and he couldn't help but smile gently as you snoozed

🎮 He decided that he was going to lay down on the bed to, not to sleep, but to get a more comfortable angle to play in. So, he stood up and got on the bed, pulling the sheets down and over your arms and his legs before looking back at his phone, noticing it was in camera mode. He must've hit the button at the bottom as he secured his spot

🎮 Idia gasped quietly as he saw how you did his hair. It was like a mixture of multiple braids with a single thicker braid behind. The housewarden couldn't help but smile and laugh like the little dork he was

🎮 After the little giggly fit, Idia looked at you and shut off his phone before laying down next to you, holding your arm as you shuffled onto your back. He smiled and closed his eyes. If you did something so nice to him, he could at least get maybe a couple hours of sleep for you

(I have so much Idia brainrot right now it's insane)

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shootingstarpilot · 2 months ago

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i keep imagining maces pov of when qui-gon gets decked and its so funny to me. this poor man just wants to know where his kid his friends padawan is but unfortunately he only has his his stupid friend whos panicking rn, a troll, and a very concussed soldier (who recognizes him??) who is having the most eventful and stressful days of his life to get any information from. and also theres a dead sith there. rip mace windu shout-out to him for not strangling qui-gon immediately after cody and co leave

...okay, yeah, i'm running with this.

because- mace has valiantly put off punching qui-gon. he has resisted every temptation. violence is so rarely a useful tool. he has not punched qui-gon. he will not punch qui-gon.

he is a jedi.

even when qui-gon returns to the temple self-righteous and indignant and without the child under his care-

he is a jedi.

even when they get the call, and he looks at qui-gon, who looks back at him, hopeful and eager and certain that he will be the one to go, to return, to repent, and mace thinks you do not deserve this and sends him anyway-

he is a jedi.

even when the shuttle returns, dropping out of orbit and straight through mace's stomach when he makes it to the dock just in time to see the healers vanish around the corner, qui-gon standing empty-handed on the landing, staring after them, blood on his tunics and under his fingernails-

he is a jedi.

even when vokara looks them both in the eyes and says infection and trauma and intubate, even when qui-gon asks can i see him? and there's no hint of a we, even during those three awful days of fever where mace finds himself hovering outside the halls with ever more minor errands, feeling obi-wan fade and flicker in the force and occasionally hearing the screams of please and no-! and names he does not know-

even then.

he is a jedi.

three days after obi-wan is pulled from the bacta tank:

another errand. theoretically. for the life of him mace cannot remember what he came here to deliver. but then the door to obi-wan's room opens, and vokara steps out, still speaking, her voice warm, some recounting of one of qui-gon's many misadventures that landed him in her care, and then she turns and sees him and before the door shuts behind her-

"master mace?"

the voice is thin and thready and mace closes his eyes.

"all right?" he whispers to vokara.

she raises an eyebrow. "he's asking for you."

(mace will find out later that this is the first time since his return that obi-wan has dared to asked for anything.)

he steps up to the threshold.

"obi-wan," he says. "may i come in?"

at the nod, mace steps forward and lets the door slide shut behind him. he settles into the chair left faithfully at the side of the bed.

obi-wan looks- unwell.

this is not, perhaps, the most novel observation. but it is one thing to know where and how he'd spent his last year. it is another matter entirely to see the proof of it, even beyond the cavernous wound he'd come home with-

in his size and stature, much smaller than that of a healthy child of his age. in the thinness of his face, the look of hunted hunger. in the scarring on the knuckles of his hands, clenching spasmodically in the layered blankets.

in the way he watches mace.

"obi-wan," mace repeats, and with the sound of his name comes an easing of the weight on his shoulders, each syllable fading into a sigh of relief, and he hadn't known what to say even as he'd stepped into the room- there is so much that needs saying, so many words he cannot find-

he smiles, instead, and rests his hands on his knees. "i have missed you very much."

when obi-wan reaches for him, mace is ready.

he ends up settled on the edge of the bed, one hand around obi-wan's shoulder as the boy curls into his side. he tugs gently at the tangled knot of pain still clouding obi-wan's thoughts, feeding the threads into the force, and feels him relax, bit by bit.

he's not asleep. his grip on mace's robe is too tight. his breathing too fast.

'how are you feeling?" mace asks quietly.

"okay."

the response is immediate, easy, and entirely untruthful.

"do you- need to go?"

mace catches qui-gon's approach. feels him pause.

feels him retreat.

"no," he says. "not at all."

he is a jedi.

there is so much to grieve, in the next few weeks. so much. obi-wan swings between different types of silence- sullen, frightened, exhausted, dissociating. tattered and bleeding in the force. he kicks and punches and bites and sometimes does not leave his room for days on end. he scratches at his skin until he bleeds, picks at his meals with a dull disengagement, sleeps sporadically, if at all-

it is very difficult, sometimes, to not be angry at qui-gon.

but the first time he visits their apartment, obi-wan recoils hard and fast at the first leak of such sentiments from behind his shielding, and mace decides that they have had their full of violence.

he is a jedi.

and besides-

qui-gon talks to him. talks to others, too, who talk between themselves, for no one is willing to let them handle this alone. mace sits and listens and sees the bruises bloom on qui-gon's arms and legs from small hands beating back imagined enemies, and knows anger is not what's needed here.

it persists, yes, but it does not rule.

he is a jedi.

and then-

and then.

(the force is full of screaming.)

the temple lets them through and the gardens are burning and there is a corpse on the floor and obi-wan is-

gone, qui-gon says.

i don't know where. he's gone.

and for a moment mace can hardly breathe under the weight of the fear and the fury and the you have a habit of losing him, don't you?, and he catches the thought and breathes it out, recognizing its roots, its unfairness, drawing his focus to the sith, listening with one ear to qui-gon's recounting even as he presses a hand to the rift, searching for some leeway and finding none, feeling the pressure build behind his eyes, swiping impatiently at the blood drying under his nose-

then something hums.

the soldiers are immensely professional. clear-cut and firm and shielded in the force, understandably reticent with information. but the most disconcerting thing by far...

they look to him.

all of them.

there's a familiarity there.

he's safe with us, the commander says, and looks at him.

safe-with-us, echos the force. safe-with-lightning-safe-with-fighting-safe-with-dying-safe-with-surviving-safe-with-us.

what else can he do but accept it?

he is a jedi.

and then qui-gon-

qui-gon-

well.

he is a jedi.

so he crouches next to him, rests a hand on his shoulder, and when qui-gon turns a shell-shocked gaze on him, says quietly- "come on. let me see."

he is a jedi.

he does not punch qui-gon.

but he is not entirely immune to schadenfreude.

#TOOK THIS AND RAN WITH IT LOL WHOOPS #shoutout to mace INDEED #he is the quintessential jedi #but i think he deserves to indulge in a little bit of schadenfreude #as a treat #thanks anon for giving me an excuse to write this!#this was FUN #shoulder the sky #inbox

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year ago

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Hi! Could you do a Batfam x teen reader, where the reader does illegal street race, he sneaks out at night to go those race, and the Batfam found out about it !

Thank you ;)

I sure can do!

Summary: (Y/N) races illegally. The family doesn't know.

Warnings: illegal racing, (Y/N) is skilled, Bruce is mad, Jason is impressed, Damian is proud, Bruce is just done,

(Y/N) loved his dad and he often shared his interests with him. He also shared everything with his brothers. But he was harboring a secret that he couldn't tell anyone. He loved cars, which was not a secret to his family.

What was the secret?

(Y/N) raced illegally. Bruce knew that (Y/N) loved cars, but what he didn't know is that (Y/N) knew how to drive. Bruce had plans to get (Y/N) his license when he turned 18 years old, but when he was so young?

Not happening, at least in Bruce's eyes.

However, (Y/N) had an important night tonight. Last time he was on the track, a cocky bastard thought that he was better than him. (Y/N) gladly excepted.

If there was one thing that Bruce has taught him that he uses everyday, it's the fact that you should fear a person who doesn't brag about his skills. You can easily beat someone who brags. But the one who is silent?

Yeah, that will be a much more difficult task. H

Now he had to make a plan on how to sneak out. He had to wait until they went on patrol and until Alfred went down to the cave to make sure that nobody sees him.

He took his phone and looked into the hall. Alfred went into Bruce's office a few minutes prior, so he must be halfway down. (Y/N) took the opportunity to quietly walk to the garage. He tapped his pocket for the car key, checking to see if his favorite car key was in there.

That car is his baby and he would be damned if he didn't use his favorite. Bruce bought him this car last year and (Y/N) took great care of it. He cleaned it, washed it and took it outside to drive, but only in the property boundaries.

Now it was time to beat that shit head.

(Y/N) sighed in relief as he parked the car. He walked through the crowds, just enjoying the energy. It was just free, no stress, but it was also buzzing with excitement. Usually there were friendly races and talks about upgrades on your cars.

Tonight, it was a race with (Y/N) and the shit head who challenged him. (Y/N) still remembers how he first started. Everyone was nervous to have a Wayne kid, thinking that he wanted to get on the top with a snap of his fingers.

But (Y/N) kept his head down, was humble and respectful towards everyone and he showed his skills to everyone and he proved himself. He became very well liked and he made a good friend here, named Aaron.

" Hey (Y/N)! " Aaron said loudly to drown out the chatter of the other people. " Are you ready for the race? " He asked, smirking as (Y/N) pushed him away.

" Of course I am. " (Y/N) answered, accepting a water bottle from Aaron.

" I still can't believe somebody is so stupid. " Aaron mused to himself, shaking his head. (Y/N) is the best racer here and the fact that somebody new is so dense to think that he could beat him so stupid. Of course, (Y/N) is not invincible and unbeatable, but new people are often warned that (Y/N) is the best racer here.

But that doesn't stop people from challenging him. (Y/N) never hated being challenged, in fact, he loved it. No matter who it was, (Y/N) liked the challenge. Only if they aren't cocky and obnoxious about their skills.

The shit head is obnoxious beyond belief and there was nothing that could change (Y/N)'s mind. Absolutely nothing.

" Did you check the car? " Aaron said as they turned back to walk back to the car.

" I did. Yesterday, I didn't have a chance to do it today. I can't let my dad know what I'm doing. " (Y/N) confessed to Aaron who nodded in sympathy.

Aaron and (Y/N) are good friends and (Y/N) confided that this secret was a big burden on him. He didn't tell him about their night jobs of course, but he did tell Aaron that his dad has a very set moral standing. Of course, nothing is black and gray, but he would be mad if he found out.

" I know, but lets check it now. John should be somewhere near by to check it. "

John is (Y/N)'s mechanic and his mentor in a way. He took (Y/N) under his wing when he has first arrived here. John loves his job more than anything and has admitted that he sees (Y/N) as a son. The two had a very strong bond and they both cared about each other.

" Hey son. " John said, looking at the car. (Y/N) said hey back and gave him a quick side hug.

" How is the car looking? " Aaron asked, walking up to the duo.

" She looks good. Very well taken care of. Good job. " John praised, popping the hood open. (Y/N) smiled to himself, happy that his mentor was pleased.

" The engine looks good. I want you to wipe the floor with that shit head. " John said, closing the hood down.

" Yup. I heard him bragging. " Aaron said, groaning after seeing the shit head move through the crowd towards them. " And he is coming here. " Aaron said and John frowned at the shit head.

" Here is the famous Wayne. " He said, getting into (Y/N)'s face.

" Yup. I would suggest that you step away from me. " (Y/N) said, raising his chin. He level him with a bat glare that Bruce taught him. The shit head stepped back. " Now, if you are here to brag about your non existent skills, go back to wherever you crawled out of. " (Y/N) said and the shit head huffed.

" Go back to your car and get ready. " Aaron said, leading (Y/N) to sit in the car. The shit head moved, his groupie following him.

" If you don't wipe the floor with him, you are going to be in trouble. " John threatened (Y/N), glaring at the stupid kid who was walking away to his car.

" I will wipe the floor with him. " (Y/N) confirmed.

" Good. " Aaron muttered, shaking his head.

(Y/N) laughed as he stopped the car. He won by a landslide and he proves why he is so good. He got out of the car and hugged Aaron tightly.

" You did it! Ha! Take that you ass! " Aaron yelled at the shit head who walked off.

John congratulated (Y/N), giving him a hug. There was cheering and clapping and (Y/N) smiled. This felt nice. This is what he loved about this place.

" I knew you would do it. " John said, patting his back.

Everything felt nice.

" The police is here! "

Now that is not nice. Everyone scrambled to run away, but (Y/N) froze as he heard a familiar rumble of the Batmobile. Oh dear God no. Shit. Hell no. Not happening. Nope. This is not good.

" (Y/N) we have to go. " Aaron said, pulling him with him.

" Leave me. I will hold them off. " (Y/N) said, shaking his head. Aaron and John looked conflicted, but nodded when they saw the look in his eyes.

Turns out it wasn't the police, just Batman and the rest of the family. (Y/N) took a deep breath as he watched the Batmobile come to a stop. At the moment, (Y/N) was scared.

What were they going to say?

His dad stepped out of the car, in his suit, Batman persona on.

" Hey dad. " (Y/N) said sheepishly.

" Please don't tell me you are racing illegally. " He said and (Y/N) looked away.

" Oh no. " Bruce said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

" Do you at least win? " Jason asked as he walked up to (Y/N)'s car.

" I do. " (Y/N) said, eyes still locked on the ground.

" That's my brother. " Jason smiled underneath his mask.

" Good. You would be a disgrace to the family otherwise. " Damian piped in out of nowhere.

Dick sighed, shaking his head. " (Y/N), that is very dangerous. "

" And what you lot do isn't? " (Y/N) retorted, finally finding some strength to talk back.

" And what do you think Tim? " (Y/N) asked. He just looked at the car, then back at (Y/N).

" I mean, you really aren't hurting anybody. You are smart and you know how to avoid trouble. You know how to not get hurt. " Tim explained and Bruce sighed.

" Okay. We are going to have a talk after we all sleep. I'm going to say something that I will regret later. (Y/N) in the Batmobile, Dick you are driving his car. "

(Y/N) wanted to protest, but was silenced with a glare from his father. He sighed quietly as he went to the Batmobile. This is going to be an interesting conversation.

#dc x male reader #dc comics #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #batman x male reader #batkids #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #nightwing x male reader #dick grayson x male reader

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being-addie · 1 year ago

Text

The Glow Up Game

Part One: Pretty on the Outside

A comprehensive guide to getting your shit together. You heard me. We are done standing on the sidelines, looking at people living their dream lives being rich and hot and happy. WE'RE DONE.

This is a long guide, filled with pointers covering EVERYTHING regarding physical glow-ups. I'll be editing it and reblogging it whenever I come across new ideas and information. It covers everything from head to toe. I mean this literally.

Note: This is for people who want to do glow up physically. It is totally your choice to do anything you want to/don't want to on this list. We live in a world full of unfair beauty standards, and instead of being angry about it, I'm going to exploit the hell out of it.

Are you ready to change yourself? Here we go.

The absolute basics: These are lifestyle changes you're going to implement. Non-negotiable.

Go exercise: Don't look at me like that. This isn't optional. Find a way to move your body so you like it and you're actually breaking a sweat. Leisurely walking on the treadmill does not count, half-hearted zumba does not count. Whatever you're doing, it has to make you SWEAT. A good figure is earned. Trust me when I say you'll feel better, and like what you see in the mirror.

Change your diet: Enough sugar. Toss the soda out, and chuck out your candy stash. You really don't need it. Craving something sweet? Make a batch of healthy, homemade dessert. Or have a piece of fruit. I'm not kidding when I say the kitchen is where you make the biggest lifestyle change. It will be HARD, but every McChicken you say no to, is good for your HEALTH. You want to live longer? Cut out the takeout and heavily processed foods.

Fix your sleep cycle: Sleep is so important, and I think people overlook it so much. All your hard work is wasted if you don't sleep well. Your skin will break out, and your body will refuse to change even if you exercise. SLEEP WELL. Create a nighttime routine and stick to it. Make sure you have at least 7 hours of sleep as a minimum.

Create a skincare routine: Take off your makeup every day. And have a good skincare routine. Cleanse, moisturize and apply whatever you usually do. Exfoliate twice a week and stop touching your face. I also drink an ABC smoothie (Apple+Beetroot+Carrot+Water). This does wonders.

Use sunscreen: I cannot stress this enough. Skin cancer is real, and it will get you if you don't wear sunscreen. Use something higher than SPF 50 and use it religiously. Make sure to get your earlobes, chest and back of your neck. Cover every inch of your skin that will be exposed to the sun.

Drink your water: 3 litres of water per day. You will be amazed at the results. Your skin will clear, your breath won't stink and you won't be dehydrated. This shit works, and there's a reason everyone recommends it. Drink your water.

Moving on to each itty-bitty detail.

Eyes: SLEEP. You want your eyes to look fresh? No pesky dark circles? Get your sleep cycle right. No more late nights. Hot girls sleep on time.

Nose: Those blackhead-looking things are natural, they're called sebaceous filaments. And, no you can't get rid of them. But you can minimize them. Cleanse, moisturize and exfoliate. Don't pick at your skin.

Lips: Don't bite them anymore, for God's sake. You're going to make sure they're chapped beyond belief. Use lip balm religiously and don't overuse lipstick. Your lips WILL get discoloured when you're older. Use a light lip tint, and lip balm/gloss.

Eyebrows: If you want to shape them, go to the hairdresser and get it done.

Facial hair: As someone with naturally dark, thick hair I have a lot of noticeable facial hair. I'm planning on getting it lasered soon. Find a way that works for you and is affordable.

Body hair: I have zero self-consciousness about my arm and leg hair, so I have no desire to shave or wax it. I do wax my underarms, because of ridiculously thick growth. Understand that this is a personal choice, and you do not have to do this if you're unwilling.

Nails: Keep them short or long, always filed and CLEAN. Do not let grime or dirt build-up underneath. Don't keep your nails painted 24/7, it will 100% lead to yellowing. Give your nails some time to breathe between every manicure. When they aren't painted, keep them filed and presentable.

Hair: I have Type 3a curly hair, so my hair routine is tailored to suit me. But what I can tell you is wash your hair at least 1x a week, use sun protectant, and oil your hair before wash day(it works). And use heat on your hair SPARINGLY. If you want to colour you can, but remember it does lead to long term damage, brittleness and bad texture. Get your hair cut every 3-4 months with a trusted hairdresser. Keep switching up hairstyles and do not stick to a single part (middle part, side part) constantly because it can lead to thinning of hair there.

Acne: STOP TOUCHING YOUR FACE I am begging you. Touching your face with grimy hands is a recipe for acne. Cleanse everyday, moisturize heavily and go to a dermatologist if it gets worse.

THIS LIST WILL BE UPDATED

Go live your best life. You deserve everything, and you shouldn't let anything stand in your way, not even yourself. Now GO, you've got shit to do.

xoxo

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im-so-normal-iswear · 5 months ago

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Hi!! I love your writing!! Would it be possible for your thoughts on Ford/stan with a girlfriend who is a therapist or psychiatrist? (I’m studying psychology so this is a totally self indulgent ask!) thank you!! 🫶🏼

A/n: Ok! I'm sorry these took long

Stan/Ford pines x therapist!reader

Ford Pines:

Ford is instantly intrigued by your profession. He’s always been interested in how the human brain works, and having a girlfriend who understands the mind on such a deep level excites his curiosity.

He loves asking you questions about psychology, sometimes treating your discussions like he’s learning from a textbook.

“So, if someone were to experience prolonged exposure to isolation, how do you think that would affect their psyche?”

Ford absolutely loves to hear your insights on everything from mental health to obscure psychological theories, often adding his own knowledge of psychology.

Ford greatly values your calming presence. As someone who has gone through trauma from his interdimensional travels, Ford finds comfort in how you can guide him through his anxieties and ground him during his moments of overthinking. It’s not that he’s asking for therapy, but the way you talk and listen to him brings him a lot of peace.

Sometimes Ford gets lost in his head, overanalyzing everything or diving too deep into his research, and you’re the one who pulls him back. You know just how to approach his worries without invalidating them, and he’s beyond grateful for that.

“You always know exactly what to say to bring me back to reality. How do you do it?”

He’s particularly interested in your take on the psychological impact of interdimensional travel or exposure to anomalous phenomena.

He’ll often turn to you for discussions about the mind’s adaptability and resilience. You’ve become his go-to person for talking about the human condition in the context of the strange.

Ford is also incredibly supportive of your career and education. If you’re studying or need quiet time to work, he’ll make sure you have the perfect environment to focus. He’s always ready to offer encouragement when you’re feeling stressed.

“I know it’s a lot, but if anyone can do this, it’s you. I’ve never seen someone so dedicated to understanding the complexities of the mind.”

Ford loves sharing intellectual moments with you, like reading papers or discussing recent psychological studies. Sometimes, he even helps you with your work by giving you unique perspectives from his travels, and in turn, you help him manage the more stressful parts of his past.

Stan Pines:

Stan doesn’t fully get what a therapist or psychiatrist does at first (he’s used to handling things by “toughing it out”) but he quickly comes to appreciate how insightful you are.

“So, you talk to people about their problems? Gotta hand it to ya, you’ve got a lot of patience. I can barely deal with the customers.”

Stan is amazed at how you can listen to other people’s issues all day and still come home well. He’s constantly in awe of how much you care for others and how you help people through their darkest moments.

“You’ve gotta be some kinda saint to listen to people’s problems all day and not go crazy yourself.”

He loves that you don’t push him to talk, but when he does, you listen attentively. You’ve taught him that it’s okay to share his feelings without making him feel weak. Sometimes he’s caught off guard by how much better he feels after talking to you.

“Huh, I guess it’s not so bad… all this feelings stuff. You really know how to make a guy feel better.”

Stan appreciates your ability to see through his tough-guy act. You can read him like a book, and while it’s a little intimidating, it’s also a relief. You pick up on the small things, like when he’s more stressed than usual or when something’s bothering him.

“How do you always know what’s goin’ on in my head? It’s like you’re a mind reader or somethin’. Say how bout we put that to use in the shack? I'm joking, unless you want to.”

He loves to brag about your career, even if he doesn’t always understand it.

“Yeah, my girl’s a therapist. Helps people sort out their problems. She’s smart as hell. I dunno how she does it, but it’s pretty impressive.”

If you’re ever feeling overwhelmed by your work, Stan is the first to encourage you to take a break. He might not know all the details of your job, but he knows how important it is for you to recharge. He’ll pull you away from your books or laptop and suggest watching a movie or doing something fun together.

“You’ve been workin’ hard all day. Come on, let’s kick back and relax. You deserve it.”

He’s a little protective of you, especially if you’ve had a rough day. If you come home stressed after dealing with a difficult client, Stan will be there to comfort you in his own way, whether that’s making you laugh, cooking a simple meal, or just sitting beside you.

Stan will occasionally ask for advice, though he’ll frame it casually. “So, let’s say someone I know has a lotta stuff from their past they don’t like talkin’ about. What’d you say to help ‘em out?” He trusts you more than he’ll admit and values your wisdom, even if he’s not always ready to face his own feelings head-on.

A/n: you give them therapy they need, the end ^^

#ford pines x you #ford x reader #stanford pines #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls stanford #gravity falls stanley #stan x reader #stan pines #stanley pines #stanley x reader #headcanons #x reader

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meazalykov · 6 months ago

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friend crush

jule brand x reader

summary: you have a friend crush on the wolfsburg forward, or so you thought

warnings: confession. short chapter. reader figuring out her sexuality after a bit of denial

the first time you meet jule brand, it's at the olympics.

the noise of different countries competing for gold, the sight of athletes from around the world, and the electric energy of the games are all a bit overwhelming, but there's something about jule that catches your attention immediately.

she’s sitting with a few of the other girls, lena and sara, laughing at something sara said, and you can't help but notice the way her eyes light up when she smiles.

there’s a warmth to her that draws you in, and you find yourself staring longer than you should.

when she catches your gaze, you quickly look away, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

over the next few days, you keep finding excuses to be near her. it’s not that you’re intentionally trying to, but there’s just something about her that you can’t shake off.

you convince yourself it’s just a friend crush—after all, she’s kind, funny, and an incredible player. who wouldn’t want to be close to her?

but as the days go by, and the more games germany goes through to reach the gold medal match–the feeling grows stronger. it’s not just her smile or the way she carries herself on the pitch; it’s the way she makes you feel when she’s around.

you feel a flutter in your chest, a nervous excitement that you’ve never felt before. it’s confusing, and a little bit scary.

one evening, after a particularly intense training session, you’re sitting in your room, scrolling through your phone when sjoeke, your national and club teammate at chelsea, walks in the shared space.

she gives you a curious look, noticing how distracted you seem.

“hey y/n, everyone is downstairs playing uno or monopoly, what’s going on with you?” she asks in german, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

she understands that the session was tough, but there was a bonding moment happening downstairs for the team. little did you know, jule asked sjoeke to come find you.

you hesitate for a moment before finally admitting in english,

“i think i have a friend crush on jule, and that's all I've been thinking about outside of the olympic games.”

sjoeke raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing on her lips.

“a friend crush?”

“yeah, you know… when you really want to be friends with someone because they’re just so cool and nice. its just-- I'm not sure if she wants to be friends with me” you explain, though the words feel inadequate even as you say them.

“y/n, are you sure it’s just a friend crush? i’ve never heard of that term before– because the way you’re describing it– and the way you're stressed out about her attention.. it sounds like it might be something more.” sjoeke studies you for a moment before speaking again.

her words hit you like a ton of bricks. something more?

the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind.

you’ve never really thought about your sexuality before, never questioned it, but now, with jule in the picture, you’re suddenly not so sure.

“i… i don’t know,” you stammer, the realization making your heart race.

“i’ve never really… thought about it.”

“it’s okay,” sjoeke says gently, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder as she realizes that she might’ve forced you into an uncomfortable territory.

“you don’t have to have it all figured out. come downstairs when you’re ready to be around everyone–”

the days that follow are a whirlwind of emotions, especially after you won bronze with germany.

you find yourself analyzing every interaction with jule, questioning every feeling that arises. it’s confusing and overwhelming, but there’s also a strange sense of clarity that comes with it.

you’re starting to accept that maybe, just maybe, your feelings for jule go beyond friendship.

eventually, you can’t keep it to yourself any longer. after the celebration party before everyone goes back to their clubs, you find her sitting alone, cooling down.

with your heart pounding in your chest, you approach her, your mind racing with what you’re about to say.

“hey, jule,” you start, your voice trembling slightly.

she looks up at you, her eyes soft and inviting. “hey, y/n. what’s up?”

“i’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately… about us. if you don’t like it then please ignore that this even happened— i’ve realized throughout our moments here that i really want to get to know you more. not just as a friend, but… more than that.” you take a deep breath after, trying to steady yourself.

the silence that follows feels like an eternity, but then jule smiles, a gentle, understanding smile that puts you at ease.

“i’d like that,” she replies, her voice warm and sincere.

you smiled in relief as you sit down beside her. the new journey might be scary but knowing that jule is willing to take that journey with you makes it all a little less scary.

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

#jule brand #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #meazalykov #gerwnt

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inhuman-obey-me · 5 months ago

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Collab pair piece for Diavolo's birthday 2024!

Art by Mod Cosmos

Writing by Mod Chaos

His First Halloween

Can also be read on AO3 here Word count: 5.3k Description: Every year, the Demon King has always held those stuffy parties to honor the prince's birth. The nobility always come around to kiss up and pay due respects to their royals. It's a huge bore, and a chore of the noble class. But, every year too, just outside the walls of the Demon Lord's Castle, Diavolo can see a whole festival out in town! And it looks fun. It looks really, really fun. So maybe, just once...he could sneak out to see what it's like out there?

Diavolo's tiny fingers tangle nervously at the edges of his shirt as he prepares to ask. It should be alright, shouldn't it? It's his birthday, after all. And he's never asked for much on his birthdays, not really, always behaved himself well at those stuffy birthday parties that were held really more for the nobles' benefit than for his, year after year, so maybe, just maybe, this one time...

He waits for his father to turn around, anxiously deciding how to phrase his request. Careful not to sound too pitiful, or he'll get scolded for not having more dignity. Nor too proud, lest he be reminded of his place. Perhaps he could mention how well his tutors had said he'd been doing in his studies lately...?

"Diavolo." He startles out of his thoughts as his father's voice booms overhead, the Demon King's intimidating figure having turned toward him while he'd been distracted. "Why aren't you dressed yet?"

In an instant, his mind goes blank of all his considerations, and he blurts out, "Father, please, could I go out to the festival in town today?"

The silence he gets in response, however momentary in reality, feels like it lasts an eternity. Diavolo braces himself and darts his eyes down, afraid to meet his father's eyes, before slowly glancing up again to chance a peek at the other's expression.

But there's no change on the king's face. Not surprise, nor gentleness, nor even annoyance. Nothing at all, exactly as stone-faced as he'd been before asking. As if Diavolo hadn't said anything at all.

Well, it's not an outright no. That has to count for something...doesn't it?

Nervously optimistic, he decides to steel forward. "I-I saw them from my window this morning, while they were setting up, and...and it seemed really fun!" His voice picks up speed as he speaks, scrambling to make his plea before he might be cut off.

Still nothing. Not a single reaction from the imposing king, looking down upon his child.

"I-I know I'm not usually allowed to attend such events beyond the palace, but...just this once, for my birthday, could I go out to see it? Please...?"

At last, his father's disinterested expression is broken by a small, unamused scoff. "If you know you are not allowed to attend such things, why would you waste my time with such a ridiculous request?"

"But, father--"

"Absolutely not. The festival is for those on the outside. It is not your place to go gallivanting amongst the commoners on such an occasion. Now go and get dressed. The nobles will be arriving any minute for your party."

Diavolo's entire posture deflates. "Yes, father."

He leaves quietly after that, shooting one last wistful glance out of the hallway window. The colorful flags and tents wave back at him, beckoning him out -- but he can see himself as well, reflected in the glass, trapped on the wrong side of it.

It's just not meant to be, he supposes. Maybe next year. Or the year after? Or at least, whenever his father finally decides he's old enough? Yes, someday. Someday, he'll be able to go. Won't he?

"Young Master, have you made preparations for this evening's party?"

Diavolo nods, reassuring his butler that everything is ready and that he need not stress too much about the night's event. Yes, he remembers the evening's schedule. Yes, the nobles have all given their responses -- not that they need to really, none of them would ever turn down a personal invitation to the demon prince's official birthday celebration, though he almost rather wishes they would for once. Yes, he knows what he's going to say when he's inevitably asked for a speech. This is, after all, the first birthday since his father departed to the bottom of the Devildom to sleep, leaving the young prince in charge. They will want to hear his platitudes and reassurance. They will want to know that nothing will change.

But between each answer, it certainly doesn't escape Barbatos's notice how the prince's sullen gaze keeps drifting back towards the balcony.

"Is something the matter, My Lord?"

A pleading look crosses Diavolo's face, not unlike the spoiled puppy eyes he often gave the butler in the past when begging to hear stories about life outside the castle walls. "Have you ever been out there, Barbatos? To that festival in town?"

"Yes, of course. The annual three-day Halloween Celebration, honoring the day you were born, correct? Yes, I have attended a number of times in the past."

"Yes! Yes, it's quite a large event, isn't it?"

"Well, this is the capital, after all. It's only natural that the home of the royal family would be host to the largest Halloween celebration in the Devildom."

"Oh, of course! Right, the...largest." It's an oddly crestfallen tone, from the one who usually perks right up with excitement whenever Barbatos even hints at a grand tale waiting to be spun. But in this case, the reminder of its scale only makes him long to attend for himself all the more, making his disappointment at not being allowed to weigh all the heavier in his chest.

Then again, his father isn't actually around this year...

In an instant, his mind is made up. He nods resolutely to himself, golden eyes gleaming. "Clear my schedule for the afternoon, Barbatos."

A flurry of expressions crosses the butler's face -- alarm, confusion, concern. "Young Master?"

"They are celebrating my birthday, aren't they? I wish to attend."

"Lord Diavolo, you mustn't," Barbatos answers sternly. "We haven't made the appropriate security arrangements, nor have you gone into town enough thus far to know your way around. And there is too much work for you to complete besides. You cannot possibly shirk your duties now. The nobles have their eyes on you, and several of them will be on high alert for any sign of weakness. You must ensure that you are fully prepared for tonight."

Diavolo groans, sitting back down. Even though Barbatos was a bit less strict on him than his father, he should have known he would still not be allowed to go. "I see your point. I suppose you're right, there's a lot still to prepare. Very well then."

"Good. I'm glad you understand," his butler smiles peacefully, despite how menacing his voice sounds. "Then, please come to breakfast, and I have the latest documents ready for you to look over afterwards. You will find the rest of the day's agenda on your desk." His voice turns soft for a moment as he adds, "And, My Lord?"

"Yes, Barbatos?"

"I do wish you a happy birthday today. May it be a good one."

The demon prince plays listlessly with his pen, trying to force himself to read through yet another official document awaiting his signature. At his side sits a tray with a plate of perfectly rounded devilberry cookies, along with a fresh cup of tea, its steaming tendrils teasing his nose as they drift past him towards an open window. Barbatos had stopped by earlier to drop off the treats, and to see how he was doing with his work -- though, to the butler's chagrin, Diavolo had hardly made a dent in the pile.

It has been three hours since his earnest declaration of wanting to attend the festival, and hardly a minute of that time has passed by without some daydream of the festivities beyond. He's never attended a festival before -- at least not amongst the crowds, only from afar as he accompanied his father in making appearances for some official purpose or another. They'd always seemed so lively to him as he passed through in their royal processions, with games and music filling the air with sound, and every direction smelling of delicious food.

He looks down at the paper in his hand, trying again to make it through the page at least, but as his eyes glaze over, he surrenders to the boredom and picks up a cookie instead. It's about time for a break, surely? And the window in here does have such a grand view of the town, where he can look out at the realm that is now his responsibility.

But he's too restless. His head bobs around in the window, eyes drawn to every attraction at once. The main entrance to the festival isn't far off, but it really is one of the biggest events of the Devildom. Booths and tents stretch through whole neighborhoods, with a massive stage right at the center, where he can see brightly costumed demons dancing around. Balloons and flags are all over, and the crowds are larger than any he's seen before. Oh, how desperately, he longs to be there. And it's his birthday! Shouldn't a demon normally have fun on their birthday?

That's it, he can't take it anymore. There's half an hour before Barbatos returns to retrieve the tray of treats. That means a good half hour before the butler will notice he's gone.

Diavolo pulls the cloak tighter over his shoulders as he peers around the corner of the alleyway he's snuck in through. It was a last-second attempt at some kind of disguise, pulled from a random storage closet along with the overly large mask presently adorning his face, the ornate details of which now serve to obscure his horns -- and the edges of his view.

But as soon as he sets his golden eyes upon the sight beyond the small alley's opening, any concern over his poorly improvised outfit flies right out of his mind. He lets out a small gasp at the splendor of the town's decorations -- not in the wealthy, refined way he was used to, but an earnest, splashy kind of splendor, a scene designed not to boast superiority but to unite.

A row of magnificent tents stretches down the street in every direction, each one punctuated by a collection of colorful balloons. Merchants dressed in their best suits cheerfully call out to passersby, chatting up any potential customer whose attention they can get, while demons of all shapes and sizes stroll around, dressed in all kinds of outrageous ways. Several of them sport little plastic crowns or bizarrely shaped hats between their horns, while others laugh with their companions under colorful masquerade style masks, and others still wear fake dragon wings or tails upon their backs.

And the smells! The rich spice of grilled meats fills the air, permeated occasionally by the heavy aroma of frying oil that sweeps by him in tendrils. Both are interrupted in bursts by the sickly sweetness of syrupy pastries and freshly swirled cotton candy carried by passing crowds walking past his hiding place.

Before Diavolo even realizes, he's stepped out from the shadows into the crowd, hand outstretched towards a demon holding one particularly tantalizing treat, a string of rainbow candy bubbles magically suspended to dance in mesmerizing swirls in between bites. The demon in question, a lanky demon reminiscent of an olive tree, steps back slightly in surprise at the sudden appearance of Diavolo's burly form at their side, snapping him abruptly out of his reverie.

"Ah, pardon me," the demon prince says, straightening out his composure on instinct to more properly greet the demon and their two companions, a pair of plum-haired imps. "May I ask where you found that delightful confection? I would very much like to try one myself!"

The demon's head flicks upwards in mild confusion at the formality of his speech, and finds their eyes meeting deep, unmistakably golden ones in return. And it clicks to them then, though Diavolo doesn't realize it. "Uh, s-sir, yes! It's, uh, from a big yellow tent down that way! I think the shop was called Hellion Bonbons..."

"Oh, wonderful! Thank you, I will head that way immediately!" Diavolo laughs cheerily. And so he does, without hearing the frantic hushed whispers of the group as he leaves, amazed at their encounter with the actual heir to the throne, the prince of the Devildom himself.

As Diavolo makes his way through the crowd to seek out the vendor of the colorful bubble candy, he comes across quite a few other stalls that catch his interest. Several of them sell various types of jewelry and accessories, many of them highlighting wares with different arrangements of the royal colors, and others carry the same fake dragon wings he'd seen around earlier. From another, he picks up a stick of cotton candy shaped like his head, and he roars with delight at the sight of more than one stall selling various sized dolls of him as a baby. Souvenir stands dot the path at the corners where streets split off down new avenues.

"Step right up, try your hand at the Devilish Ball Catch!"

Diavolo perks up at the barker's call, turning excitedly to look at the game he's advertising. The game stall is shaped like a small room, wooden cherry walls enclosing each side except the entrance, which is blocked by a wide table where a pleasant-looking gremlin woman waves cheerfully out to the crowd. Inside, a festival attendee in a glittering orange mask is hopping around, dodging obstacles as enchanted balls shaped like horned demon heads whiz by at all sizes and speeds.

Quickly latching onto the slightest sign of interest, the fast-talking barker speeds over to him. "Well, hello there, sir, you look like a fine sort, don't you! Feel like a challenge, friend?"

To the staffer's surprise, Diavolo nods eagerly back at him without hesitation. "Oh, yes, do tell me more, please! What sort of game do you have here?"

"Why, it's the Devilish Ball Catch -- a game of diabolically wild enjoyment! Simple enough, simple, I swear! Here ya go, this is my dear associate, Tzitzimime, she'll tell you all about it!"

The gremlin at the table nods at him, and proceeds to explain. The game is simple, as promised, at least in rules if not in practice. The whizzing demon-headed balls would fly around the room, and a player has 3 minutes to try to catch as many of them as they can. Trickily, however, the balls had been enchanted with different spells, though certain counter-spells from players would also be permitted. Once caught, each one would drop into a bin on its own at the center of the room, and the score would be tallied at the end based on the sizes and enchantments of the balls caught, with smaller targets or balls with trickier enchantments being worth more. And the grand prize, worth too many points to have yet been won by any challenger -- a giant plushie of the prince himself, in full demon form, complete with a brilliant real ruby stitched into the royal dragon curled at its center.

Diavolo doesn't hesitate, swept up as he is in the excitement of the festival. "Absolutely, I would love to join a game!" he enthuses merrily, quickly passing over the grimm needed. He doesn't catch the suspicious look from Tzitzimime as she sees the all-too-familiar curve of his horn as he passes her - one she's been seeing all night already on a particular stuffed toy - nor the whispers between her, the barker demon, and numerous nearby spectators as he plays.

No, the prince of the Devildom is wholly consumed by the glee of the game as the buzzer beeps the start of the round. Demon heads speed by him from all directions, though he dexterously manages to catch most of the ones that cross his path right away. Some smaller ones slip past him, as do a few that teleport away just as his fingers begin to close around them. With about half the time left, he then turns his attention to the ones zipping around in the corners of the room, taking advantage of one of the permitted counter-spells to blast them still, a somewhat difficult type of magic normally but trivial to the demon prince's raw power. In no time, he's captured all but the smallest of the balls, which continue to whoosh around, their mouths splitting open into teasing cackles as the timer ticks ever close to the end.

In his excitement, however, he doesn't notice as his disguise gradually falls away, and with it, his relative anonymity. The hood of his cloak, already only able to stretch so far forward around his horns, has dropped entirely, revealing his deep red hair underneath, and peeks of his dragon wings begin to poke out from underneath, their golden tips catching the light as he bounds around the small room. So too do the golden marks adorning his wrist, as he swings his muscular arms to grab at the targets, gleaming beneath the sleeves of the cloak with every movement.

When the buzzer rings at the end of the game, he's floating on a rush of adrenaline, hardly even thinking anymore about the responsibilities of being prince awaiting him at home. Nor does it then especially register as strange in his mind as Tzitzimime remarks, "Truly an incredible showing, My Lord," while she hands the grand prize plush over to him with a slight bow. He's too excited over the fun and the thrill of the play, and the ecstasy of having won the elusive grand prize.

His mirthful laugh only ceases when he notices a young demon, hardly older than a toddler, staring up at him from the front of the table. "Ah, little one, you like this, do you?" he asks, crouching down to meet their gaze and waving the plush at them. "Here, you may have it."

The parent holding the child's hand rushes to refuse the gift, though he insistently gives it to them anyway. But the young demon's gaze remains unbroken, mouth agape with wonder. Diavolo tilts his head inquisitively, beckoning for an explanation. "Is there something else, little one?"

At this prompting, the young child jumps up eagerly, reaching tiny fingers out towards the prince's face. "Mister, mister, your mask is so cool! I've never seen anything like it!"

At that, Diavolo laughs again, delighted at the child's wonder. "Yes, it's very special. I'm glad you like it!"

"So, are you going to join the masked parade?!" The young demon's eyes shine up at him expectantly. "My papa said they're starting soon, from the...the...umm....ah! Right, from the...southern stage, he said! You're going to join, aren't you?"

The prince is taken aback, not having heard much about the parade, but he's jubilant at the idea. "Yes, certainly! That sounds like great fun!"

"Okay! We'll keep an eye out for you then!" the child squeals with joy. "It's going to look amazing with everyone else's masks around you, too. But I think yours is the best!!"

With a pat on the young one's head, Diavolo cheerfully waves them off before making his way to the southern stage as instructed.

When he arrives to join the throngs of other masked festival goers at the parade's starting point, even his elation at the experience so far isn't enough to distract him from the whispers that seem to surround him. He doesn't catch distinct words - the surrounding demons at least take care not to announce their notice of his presence too loudly - but there's certainly a buzz about him.

He's about to approach one of them to ask what's going on when a voice rings out from the gates where the parade is set to march from. "Attention, all participants for the masked parade. We will now be starting the route through the festival. Please make sure to stay behind this float at the front at all times, which will be opening the path for us to walk through. Again, we will now be starting the route through the festival. Please make sure to stay behind this float, and let's have a wonderful Halloween parade, everyone!"

On cue, Diavolo finds himself quickly swept into the crowd before he can ask anyone, and turns his attention towards jovially waving to the audience as he passes. The cheers in return seem to call out especially loudly around him, though it's hard to actually tell from where he is in the line. He makes sure to cheer back, amazed to see the full extent of how many demons have gathered here in town on this day to celebrate Halloween, the holiday marking the date of his birth so many centuries ago. It's truly incredible to see the many costumes around him, and humbling as well to recognize how many are looking to his future as the new reigning leader of the realm.

And then, it happens in just an instant -- another demon in the parade bumps up against the edges of his oversized mask, knocking it off one side of his face. Before he can even register the change, excited shouting emerges from the crowd around them, and he's suddenly surrounded by yells of "It's the prince!" and "Prince Diavolo!"

Immediately, he finds himself mobbed by frenzied audience members pushing forth to greet him. The parade grinds to a halt behind him, unable to get around the throngs, and he too is unable to move forward at all, engulfed in the horde of celebrating demons excited to get as close as they can to the prince himself.

Well, of course they would. After all this time famously hidden away in the castle for most of his life so far, except for a handful of official appearances and tightly secured royal events, it's no wonder they're shocked and elated at the chance to get within arm's reach of the royal heir himself. He himself is shocked and elated to see it -- proof before his own eyes of his beloved status among the people.

None of that, however, changes the fact of the current matter -- that Diavolo has been surrounded by a mob, and is unable to proceed past them, and therefore neither can the rest of the parade. Graciously, he smiles at them all, shaking as many of the hands thrust out towards him as he can, and thanking each and every demon for coming out to celebrate his birthday.

But gradually, his arms grow tired and his voice begins to fade, without any sign of the crowd thinning out. If anything, it seems only to grow further and further out, as word of the actual demon prince's appearance spreads throughout the festival grounds. He's faltering, and he knows it. And there's no end in sight.

Just then, he finds himself plucked abruptly from the crowd by one of the outstretched hands. The clamor of the crowd still rings in his ears, only a few feet from where he just was, but he finds himself led down into a dingy alleyway. He tries to get a look at his abductor - savior? - but, like the prince himself, his face is obscured by mask and shadows.

Scenarios flash through his mind. He'd like to believe this isn't a bad thing -- he was in a tough situation, and he's been pulled out of it now. But for who he is and all he signifies to the realm, is that realistic? But, would someone be so brazen as to kidnap the crown prince and acting leader of the realm right out of a giant crowd in the middle of a celebration for his own birthday?

Well, it's not beyond the realm of possibility. In the Devildom, vicious brazenness was the way of life until relatively recently. There are certainly those who would like to return it that way. And if it's one of those demons, then what do they intend to do with him? A ransom? Blackmail? Worse?

But he's too exhausted from the earlier mob. With reservations swirling in his mind, he allows the stranger to pull him through an unlit door at the end of the alley.

"And those floating candies, why -- they looked magnificent! What a disappointment that I didn't get a chance to sample them for myself. I wonder if Barbatos could make such a creation for me," Diavolo gushes excitedly, before taking another hearty bite of his burger.

They're sitting in a back corner of the kitchen, a few feet from the door which he'd been pulled through just an hour or so ago. It's a bit shabby in this room; the tiles of the floor and walls, though well-kept in cleanliness, certainly show signs of wear. So too do the counters, with small knicks and scratches across the tops. From farther in, staff work busily at their cooking stations, fulfilling orders at a shocking pace.

"You sit yourself down right there now," the abducting demon had instructed when they'd entered, pulling off his mask to reveal a surprisingly warm smile. He was visibly older, though not quite elderly, with mild creases of age showing beside a roguishly toothy grin -- or maybe those were just his demonic fangs flashing with mischief in the light. Either way, he introduced himself as the owner of the place, and it soon became apparent that he meant the prince no harm after all. Not long after, he'd presented the young royal with the delectably greasy sandwich, telling him, "Here, eat up. It'll make you feel better, after all that bustle earlier."

Thus Diavolo finds himself trying a common cheeseburger for the first time, and after his first taste, happily munches away at it, answering a few questions along the way about how he'd ended up in his earlier situation, as well as chatting about the wondrous other things he'd seen while he was out at the festival.

"Glad to see your spirits refreshed, Your Highness," the proprietor chuckles.

"Ah, yes! Yes, I'm feeling far better now. Thank you so much for your generosity, and for helping me out back at the parade," Diavolo beams. "Truthfully, I'm not sure I could have lasted much longer in that crowd. Perhaps I may have underestimated the risks of sneaking out on my own after all. Though, I thought that as long as I disguised myself...but I suppose a disguise is no use if my mask falls off."

"Disguise...?" An exuberant laugh escapes from the older demon, and he gives the prince a heavier-than-gentle pat on the shoulder. "My lord, calling what you had a disguise would be, ah, rather generous at best. Your wingtips are poking out from your cloak even now, you know. And that mask, well now...suffice it to say, it's a tad beyond anything I could afford." With a smirk, he adds teasingly, "Besides, this is a celebration of Halloween, the day of your birth, after all, Your Highness. Any demon worth their horns better be able to recognize the glow of the royal family's golden eyes when they're damn near surrounded by it."

"Oh! Oh, that's right, isn't it? Ah...that explains a lot about why people were so formal with me all day." Diavolo sighs deeply as the realization, which feels so obvious now but hadn't even occurred to him in the excitement of things, settles in. "I had thought it'd be nice to experience the festival from an everyday demon's perspective. But perhaps that's simply not possible after all. It seems it's not as easy to blend in with everyone as I'd hoped."

The owner goes quiet for a moment, pondering the dilemma. It's surprising to hear a member of the royal family lament being unable to experience the realm like a commoner, and for that, Diavolo certainly has his respect. But between his large frame, his distinctive aura, and his immediately identifiable hair and eyes marking him as royalty, it's hard to hide his identity even on a day like this, when masks and costumes are expected. On any other day, it'd be nearly impossible, at least without a very strong spell. Then again...

"Maybe you don't need to blend in," he says at last. "You just want to come to town once in a while and hear how things are going, right? Everyone's excited about you here today, but that's because it's hardly ever happened before. But if you were able to come down more often, maybe it'd become normal. The townsfolk wouldn't be afraid that this is their one chance to see you out here with them."

The prince's eyes widen at the suggestion, and he nods along excitedly. "I see! I see, that's a wonderful idea. Then, I'll simply need a way to get them used to my presence in town so they can get used to me."

Sensing an opportunity, the owner grins widely at him. "Well, I know what you can do. You're welcome back here to my restaurant any time, Your Highness -- Hell's Kitchen. I'll talk to my staff, make sure they know not to let anyone bother you while you're here."

It's shamelessly transparent self-promotion, of course, but Diavolo smiles and agrees anyway. Giving his newfound friend a small boost to business here and there is hardly much of an ask, considering how the demon had helped him today, and, well, the burger he's eating now certainly is delicious, in any case. It's a far cry from what he normally gets to eat at the castle, what with Barbatos nagging at him each dinner to finish his vegetables.

As if on cue to his thoughts, the butler in question bursts into the kitchen right at that moment, marching past all the staff directly towards them. "Young Master! Are you alright?!"

It's a relief to see his loyal companion, though Diavolo grimaces nonetheless, bracing himself for the inevitable scolding he's surely about to receive. "Hello, Barbatos. You've found me."

To his surprise, however, Barbatos's expression softens, and he doesn't remark about the prince's little escapade out of the castle. "Yes, Young Master. I have come to bring you home. I heard about what happened at the parade. I'm glad to see you are unharmed."

"Oh, yes, I have this gentleman here to thank for that!" Diavolo answers, perking up and gesturing towards the owner with the burger still in hand. "He helped me out of the crowd and brought me here to rest. We will have to prepare something to repay him when I return."

The restaurant owner tips his head in a bow with exaggerated modesty. "Oh, no need for all that, Your Highness. All I ask is that you grace us with your presence again sometime."

The butler's eyes narrow at the greasy wrapper, and he clicks his tongue lightly in disapproval, though not loudly enough for the others to hear. Junk food. They certainly do owe the demon for helping the young prince, but he'd rather Diavolo not eat such foods again. He is, however, proper enough not to let his disapproval show in his voice, answering smoothly, "No, I do believe you are owed a great debt for helping His Highness. We must reward you for it, I insist. I shall take care of it, Young Master."

With a curt bow, he adds, "We should be going now, however. If you'll excuse us."

"Ah, wait just a second, before you go," the owner answers. "I have something to give you, so wait just one moment please." He disappears out to the front of the restaurant and returns almost immediately with a small bag, which he hands to Diavolo. "Here, for you. A birthday present."

Diavolo gives him an inquisitive look, but Barbatos gives him a warning smile and reminds him of the time, ushering him out as quickly as possible.

"Come, let us hurry to get you ready before the party tonight. What did he give you, by the way?" the butler asks, as they make their way back.

Diavolo reaches inside and pulls out a souvenir plush of him in a purple mask, much less extravagant than his actual one and decorated with the words "Hell's Kitchen Halloween" stitched across the top.

And, hidden underneath, he can see a similar mask in life size peeking out, with a note: "For the next time you want to sneak out on your birthday. Come visit us common folk again soon. Happy Birthday, Your Highness."

A sly smile splits across Diavolo's face. "A birthday present. Just as he said."

#we initially planned this two years ago but then one of us didn't get the art done lmao (it was me...cosmos....)#so here it is finally!!!#chaos doesn't remember what they wrote anymore...sorry...#obey me diavolo #obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #omnb #om diavolo #om! diavolo #happy birthday diavolo

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skyeslittlecorner · 1 year ago

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Can you do some headcanons about the kings are tired/exhausted/... and nuzzle into MC chests? :333

You bet I do! We're their best stress reliever. Let them do it once, and they won't let you go for hours. Also, let me include one more devil, because this request is just perfect for him and I'm too weak not to include him here-

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Satan buries his nose in your chest and purrs like a cat. You have perfect access to his hair, you can stroke it, twirl it around your hands and play with it while he nuzzles between your breasts. He'll actually pull your undershirt down with his teeth. He wants to lie on your chest, not on some T-shirt. By the way, do you know what else you have perfect access to? To those beautiful, long horns. Make use of it.

Mammon loves how small you are. When he lies on your chest, he makes sure to be careful not to accidentally crush you. This softie doesn't know what to do with himself. He wants to bury his face in your breast, but he also wants to look at your beautiful smile, he wants to be petted by you, and he wants to stroke and caress you at the same time. He will adapt to his Master's preferences, but his greed has just gone beyond the scale.

Beelzebub loves to cuddle on your breast. It's his favorite place in the world. You are so soft, perfect for feeling, squeezing and pinching. Be ready for the fact that he will eagerly lick and suck your skin and collarbones, and if you take your eyes off him for just a moment, you will end up without a bra. He is delighted with your scent. Everywhere. His nose will travel from your neck to your stomach. Yeah, that escalated pretty quickly. He's never too tired for a quickie.

Leviathan first landed with his head on your chest by accident while you were sleeping together in a coffin. Of course, he is always in control. But that day he was so tired that he slouched even when lying down and ended up with his head on your chest (liar, he really wanted that). He will lie on you still, with his eyes closed. If you think he's sleeping, try to stop petting him, and he'll immediately pull your hand back to his hair. He will also scold, because who let you stop?

And now, I just couldn't resist-

Sitri is made for this, even having one horn so he can stick securely to your chest and lie there listening to your heartbeat. He can spend all his life like this. Even though he is tired, you would talk about everything for hours. Sometimes he would just go silent for a moment to listen to your heart. Such a beautiful, even rhythm. He would finally take your hand that was stroking his hair and kiss it. The way your pulse suddenly quickens is more beautiful than any melody he's ever heard.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb satan #whb beelzebub #whb sitri #whb leviathan #whb mammon

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safetycar-restart · 4 months ago

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hiii i’m so glad you’re back :333 if you’re wanting to write for him, i neeeeed something with lando !! just like a soft subby baby post vegas happy to be home <33333 love you ��

Thank you for the welcome back anon!! I, too, am very glad to be back :)) And absolutely yes let's do some soft fluffy sub!Lando!! I'm gonna write this one without an AU since none was specified but I do also think that this idea could work well for the D/S AU :))

I think this works best if you didnt attend the race with him? Maybe you didnt make it so that you could go to the final race of the year with him. You're worried throughout the race weekend because he seems to just sort of drop off the face of the earth? He doesn't respond to texts or calls which is beyond unusual.

It's only because Lando's trainer promised you he was alright that you stopped yourself from flying out. It's so unlike him. When you watch the race and watch as Max officially wins the championship you're so certain Lando must be feeling awful. You try again to call and receive no answer, even after Lando's trainer told you he was in his hotel room.

Needless to say, you're beyond worried by the time he finally arrives home. You had hardly slept, too plagued by thoughts of how upset and lonely Lando must be.

But then his taxi pulls up and drops him back at home, and when you unlock the door to see them outside, he's so... pleased? He's got this soft smile on his face. He's wearing his softest pair of sweatpants, a hoodie that's entirely too large and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders tightly.

He comes shuffling into the house, dropping his bags right over the threshold and then just throws himself into your arms. You're in shock. You can barely process how happy he seems to be? He's just lost the championship and here he is, cuddling against your neck and you can feel him smiling against your shoulder.

When you finally recover enough to hug him back, he pulls away slightly and kisses you. He's smiling so wide he's barely able to kiss you properly.

Eventually you manage to get him to tell you what is going on, only once he's cuddled in bed with you, tucked under your arm. His socked feet are freezing against your thighs but he's smiling so you don't say a thing about it.

He tells you about how stressed he has been with the championship, how much pressure everyone had placing on him and how much he was struggling with being shoved into the #1 driver spot in his team with the least amount of tact possible. You knew all this already of course, it's why you thought he was would be distraught. But you stay silent and let him say his piece.

Then he goes on to say that now, well, now it's over. He wasnt ready to win the championship this year, he wasnt ready for the pressure of it all. And so now that it's over, he's just... he's so happy? He can relax again. He can be proud of himself for getting second in the championship.

Needless to say you're shocked, but also so so pleased. You give him light kisses all over his face, finally ending on his lips. He's giggling and smiling in ways he hadnt been for months. You pull him closer and he starts to tell you about other things that have absolutely nothing to do with racing. He tells you about the food he tried, the places he saw, the places he wanted to go back to, etc.

He's just completely at peace.

(Also he refuses to leave the bed unless you bribe him with the promise of a handjob on the couch but that's neither here nor there)

#sub!lando #ln #soft soft vibes

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itsthesinbin · 5 months ago

Text

Sins in Stardust [Chapter 7: First Day on the Job] (Bill Cipher/Reader/Stanford Pines)

Nothing rly to say this chapter! Beyond I'm still ill over this fic.

Just the usual: feedback welcome :3

Read the fic on AO3 here!

If you like it, reblog it!

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

You didn’t know if this was a good idea. Bill was clearly not liked by the people here. The gnomes were one thing, but then two people actively being terrified of him to the point of murder should’ve set off alarm bells. Well, it DID, but you also thought back to your dream before you met him. Holding hands with him as kids, as the Axolotl fled back to the stars. You felt he was left with you for a reason. You had to see where things went, at least.

You pulled on the green tshirt, big black question mark front and center. You didn’t deny that you needed work. With no car, you were stuck here anyway- and hotel rooms weren’t cheap. Just the two weeks you had bought in advance ate a good chunk of your savings, which were already dwindling by the time you arrived here. Not to mention having to buy things for two people, which you didn’t plan on doing.

If you ever wanted to leave Gravity Falls, you needed a job. So, after a lot of bickering back and forth with Bill, you two agreed to work at the Mystery Shack. Bill was too small to have a uniform yet, so you slapped your hoodie back onto him for now. You agreed to keep Bill by your side for a while, just until Soos determined he was safe to wander. You two would be cleaning up after tour groups to keep out of sight.

Bill was, understandably, not happy about the arrangement. He bitched all the way back to the hotel. And until bed. And now, as you got ready to get picked up by Wendy. You’ve had it. You turned to Bill, hands on your hips. He had his arms crossed and was sitting on his little window bench.

“Bill. For the love of GOD, listen to me,” you stressed. Bill rolled his eye but motioned for you to continue. You gave him a look before you spoke again.

“Even if you weren’t possibly a dictator-criminal that tried to enslave and kill humanity, clearly you aren’t meant to be in this WORLD,” you snapped. Bill’s eye narrowed at you. You stepped closer.

“We both need their help. I need money- by extension YOU need money. And you need allies. These people are willing to at least give you a chance. Just… go along with it, til those Pines guys show up. Please,” you begged. Bill would sneer if he had a mouth. He knew he had no choice, really. As much as he hated it, he was at the mercy of the people around him. At your mercy. Stupid fucking Axolotl.

“Fine, fine! But once I get my power back I’m burning that entire shack to the GROUND!” He put the hoodie on with a huff and sat down like a pouting baby. You sighed as you brushed your hair out.

“If you do this, maybe I’ll reconsider a deal.” You were completely lying. You were just gonna wait it out as long as possible, and let the people who knew this guy handle him. You just needed to get enough money to get out of town. Maybe you can check out that discount car shop later and see how much you’d need to save. Your lie seemed to perk the triangle up, though.

“Oh you will NOT regret it if you do, kid! We can get Weirdmageddon 2.0 going in NO time! Just wish I remembered the first one.” He jumped down, grabbing your bag for you in an attempt to seem more cooperative. He even went as far as batting his eyelashes at you when you grabbed it. You huffed out a laugh. Your phone went off with a text from Wendy. You could see her truck parked out front through your window. Bill was out the door before you were.

“Hi Wendy- thanks for the carpool,” you greeted, helping Bill into the back seat. He was pissed about it, but she had one of those big trucks you had to climb up into. Poor guy was like 2 feet tall. Wendy gave him the stinkeye through the rearview as you got into the passenger’s seat. Wendy drove off without waiting for you both to get your seatbelts on. Teenagers.

“Just because I’ll be in the gift shop doesn’t mean I won’t be on high alert, cyclops,” Wendy warned, glaring back at Bill. He put a hand on his chest as if shocked.

“Me? I’ll be on my BEST behavior, thank you! I can’t even do anything fun like this, anyway! Stupid, undeveloped frog had to have done something to me.” He grumbled the last part. You shrugged. You didn’t even know what the Axolotl was. Maybe you could ask Bill when you were alone, later.

The ride to the shack didn’t take near as long as the walk. Thank fuck, cause it was so awkward with Bill and Wendy glaring at each other whenever she took her eyes off the road. She directed you to the part of the building that hosted the tours, and showed you where the cleaning supplies were.

“Tour schedule’s here- steer clear of the place when a tour’s going on. If anything else needs doing, Soos’ll flag you guys down. Good luck,” was all she gave, before hurrying out of there. You sighed when she left, glad it didn’t feel like someone was one word away from killing you. Bill also seemed a little relieved she was gone.

You pushed out the little rolling cart that had all the supplies. You were supposed to dust everything off and make the tour area presentable before the first group arrived. You handed Bill a duster, telling him to get the low areas for you. He just stared at you like you were a fucking idiot.

“I’m not doing chores! That’s YOUR job, I just agreed to come along for safety reasons! My own safety!” You dropped the duster into his hands. He gave you a nasty look as you walked ahead.

“Bill, the deal was WE work here ‘til the Pines get back. ‘We’ includes you. At least I’m not making you try to use the mop.” The broom and mop were bigger than he was. He let out a pissed, near animalistic growl as he slapped the bottoms of displays with his duster. It was ineffective, but you figured you’d work up to doing it properly. At least he didn’t try to stab you with it.

“... Who’s the Axolotl?” You asked after about 10 minutes of silent cleaning. You had been debating asking, and felt like it was a bad decision when you saw him tense and freeze. He let out an exaggerated groan. In a rare moment of seriousness, he sighed.

“It’s… a powerful deity- more powerful than me, and I don’t say that lightly. It HAS to be the one behind this. You all having dreams about it and then me losing half my memory? No coincidence. It’s the only creature that COULD do that,” he explained, reaching up to scratch at his upper point in confusion. His irritation faded slightly and he began to pace back and forth.

“I just… don’t know why,” he mumbled. “If it has enough to wipe my memory and send me to this dimension freely, why not just kill me? To torture me?” You twisted your hands around the plastic pole of the broom. If what he- and Wendy- has told you was true, maybe he deserved to die. Or be tortured. But…

“That dream I had didn’t seem like it was… telling me to torture you, or anything like that,” you said quietly as you headed for a cobweb in the corner. It had actual insect carcasses in it, so you figured it wasn’t a prop to make the place creepier. Maybe. You’d apologize to Soos if you were wrong. Bill watched you for a minute.

“What DID you dream about? I just woke up there,” he asked, leaning against the Sascrotch display. You frowned. It was odd that apparently everyone involved with Bill- including you, who only just met him- had some kind of dream.

“Well… I was floating in space, and it appeared as a bunch of stars. Moved its tail and suddenly you were there as a kid, I guess. I was a kid too. It left, you asked if I wanted to watch the stars with you, and then I woke up.” You cringed at the webs caught in the broom. You grabbed a glove to pull the bits out to throw them into the trash.

“As a kid-? What the hell is it thinking? Is it trying to give me a pity party?” Bill paused. “... I wish I’d thought of that.” You shook your head, a little exasperated and amused. You couldn’t help but laugh a little at him.

“Either way, you’re here now. Might as well make the most of it.” Bill hummed, crossing his arms as he watched you. He definitely would make the most of it- you were already making it easy. He could tell you had some sense of good will toward him. Combined with just breaking it off with a clingy ex, he could smell the savior complex. His memories may be gone to an extent, but he didn’t lose his edge. He knew he could get you wrapped around his finger, easy. So, he’d play along.

He went back to dusting and wiping down the parts of displays he could reach. All this shit was stupid looking. A bunch of taxidermied animals stapled together. That severed hand was real, though. That was kinda neat.

“So, about those powers you’re supposed to have…” you started, a little embarrassed to pry into his personal business. But then you remembered he was an obvious egomaniac. He practically lit up at the fact he got to talk about himself.

“Oh-ho, what COULDN’T I do? I could read minds and memories, invade and manipulate your dreams- If we make a deal, I could rewrite your vision to let you see colors no human has! It’d be fun!” You couldn’t say you HATED the idea of seeing shrimp colors. The fact you didn’t immediately reject the idea was a good sign to him.

“You wanna see Brown 2?” You made a confused noise. Bill was grinning at you, hands behind his back mischievously. You leaned against the wall, a small smile on your face.

“Really? Brown 2?” “Really! It’s more brown! You’d love it, Stardust. And True Magenta. The magenta you humans got is NOTHING like the real deal,” he exclaimed proudly. You snorted a little, getting off the wall so you two could continue your work.

“Okay, you got me. Seeing more brown and real magenta sounds cool. I can show you how to start a fire with a soda can and some toothpaste.” Bill stopped. That… was actually interesting. You could tell he thought so.

“My parents were survival nuts. We went camping every year. They wanted me to know how to live off the land completely- fire-making, foraging, purifying water… All that fun stuff.” You smiled, remembering those starry nights and long hikes fondly. Learning what tracks belonged to which animal and what kind of mushrooms were edible.

“So, what do your parents think of you skipping town and being out here? They the “leave home and disown you’” types or what?” Your smile fell. Your hands tightened around the broom again, matching the way your chest squeezed.

“They’re… long gone. Dad died first, then my mom later. I’m sure they’d… be proud I left, though,” you said slowly. Bill was silent. You didn’t notice the way his eye trailed to the floor. The grip he had on the duster tightened.

“Do… triangle demons have parents?” You turned to him, and you only caught him staring downward for a split second before he laughed.

“I had to have come from somewhere, wouldn’t I? You said you saw me as a kid!” You flushed, embarrassed. Of course you did- you just told him you did. He waved it off, though.

“Are they still around, then?” He was uncharacteristically quiet. Something flashed across his eye. You could’ve sworn it was despair. His only answer, after a long silence, was a simple “no”.

“... Guess we have something in common, then, huh?” Bill let out a humorless laugh, turning back to a display that held a jar of eyes. All the eyes seemed to stare him down.

“Not as much as you think, Stardust.”

#gravity falls #bill cipher #ford pines #stanford pines #bill cipher x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #bill cipher x reader x stanford pines #bill cipher x reader x ford pines #sins in stardust

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goldsbitch · 2 months ago

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Twelve Grapes

-chapter 5 - Beautiful Eyes

"Chéri," he says almost condescendingly, "there is my dried cum in your hair and if you think I'm letting you go to see my mama like this, we need to have another serious talk."

10k words warning: mentions of oral sex, typos

There are moments in life which are a clear before and after divider. Max did not expect one of those to happen on a random Thursday morning, he also did not anticipate those moments to take place in his bed. These things were reserved for the podiums and tracks.

Alas - not when someone like Charles Leclerc has the audacity to turn over and give him a look, which, if described as sheepish, would be doing it great injustice.

Just how does somebody manage to look so innocent, yet stern and strong? He looks at Max who, probably for the first time in his life, does not know how to cope with other person looking at him. Charles battles his lashes, as if his mesmerizing eyes needed to draw more attention to them. Like the never-ending, dirty green was not enough on its own. There is something calming about his morning gaze. Like he had just come back from a nightly meeting in heaven, a place where he must have come from in the first place, because Max was getting convinced this is beyond human. His skin somehow softer than usual, chocolate hair mercilessly defying gravity and lips parted - slightly chapped and dry. Before Charles licks them lightly, effectively signing Max’s death sentence. Unlike Max, who does not have any capacity for another type of emotion, Charles appears to be confused. Just when Max thinks he has cracked this situation, at least a little bit, he has to add another word to his current vocabulary - adorable.

"Can you turn the thing off," he complains like a little child and returns back to his original position. Head rested on Max's chest, arms casually thrown over him, like it was the most normal thing ever. Max's notoriously loud and obnoxious alarm woke them both up too early for their liking. Mindlessly, Max reaches over to his nightstand to grab his phone and turn it off. He earns an approving puff from the other driver. Charles settles in his position even more, hugged up on Max and ready to go back to slumber. Max takes a minute to take it all in. Tries to get his heartbeat under control, because he is pretty sure Charles is about get tinnitus, with his ear being places just above his heart. But how does one do that, when you wake next to Charles, the morning light complimenting his already glorious post-waking up state? It is completely out of question for Max to return back to sleep. Stress - the good kind, the best kind actually - keeping him fully awake. He recalls the surprising shift of events from last night and wonders just how comically lame it is, that he is afraid to move. As if it wasn't clear, that they are way past the point of being shy when laying on top of each other. Putting his hand over Charles and drawing small circles on his naked back feels like the bravest thing Max has ever done. Is this what all of the people talk about when they're describing a good hook up? The fact that kicking the other person out first thing in the morning is not how you want the encounter to end? It's impossible to keep a straight face with all the images from yesterday flashing from his memory. It's only the weight of Charles's body, the obvious change of temperature in the bed when he is lying in it, that makes Max grounded enough to actually believe it was all true. Had he woken up in an empty bed, he'd probably have a hard time believing it all. Max is not a morning person, but he could make an exception for these kind of mornings. It's hard to admit, but he is very happy that Charles decided to stay over. His messy curls ticking Max's neck are worth it.

Messy curls. Oh, fuck. Charles is not the only Leclerc he is suppose see today.

Panic rushes through his veins and he reaches for the phone again, disrupting Charles's peace in doing so. Shit. He is suppose to be at his mom's salon in like fifteen minutes.

"Charles," Max says urgently, shaking him lightly.

There is a loud groan that speaks for itself. But, the ever-so-chatty man can apparently speak in his sleep as well. "Why are you awake," Charles complains without opening his eyes, snuggling closer into Max like he’s decided he’s part of the mattress. Max tries to push all the warm feelings rising in his chest back down.

"I’m supposed to be at your mom’s salon in fifteen minutes," Max says in a panic induced tone.

This information seems to get through with the Monegasque. Then he groans even louder. "Max, it’s-" he lifts his head slightly, squinting at the phone in Max's hands. He falls back on his chest, obviously not worried about potentially breaking his ribs. "It’s 8:45. Why are you like this?"

Max figures this is going to be harder than expected and he shakes Charles once again. "Come on, we gotta go."

"Whyyy," he literally whines into Max's chest.

Max can't help but chuckle. "Because I have a haircut appointment? Which I’ll miss if I don’t leave, like ten minutes ago?"

There is zero movement on Charles's part. "Cancel it. Reschedule. Tell her you’re sick. I don’t care. Just stop talking and let me sleep."

"I can’t cancel," Max protests and absentmindedly runs his hands through Charles's hair. "She’s expecting me..."

The man (strongly resembling an adorable spoiled brat right now) lying on him lifts his head up slightly. "She’s definitely not expecting you to wake up next to her son, but would you look at that, here we are," Charles states and their looks meet again.

Max is trying to calculate the combination of words that would make this man move. The last thing he wants, especially after last night, is to be late. What if his mom forms a poor opinion of him?

Charles continues fighting for his cause. "You cannot just walk into her salon after last night like nothing happened. I know you're insane, but there has to be a limit somewhere?"

"It’s a haircut, Charles, not a confession," Max says, exasperated. The only thing they're doing right now is wasting time. "She doesn’t know anything."

Charles narrows his eyes. "You don’t know my mother. She doesn’t have to know, she just...knows. She’s like a witch, Max."

Max snorts. "A witch?"

"Yes," Charles says, sitting up slightly, his hair sticking up at odd angles. "She’ll look at you, say something strange like, ‘You look tired,’ and then suddenly I’m getting interrogated about my love life during Sunday dinner."

Max bites back a laugh, trying to look serious. "Well, then maybe I should just tell her. Get ahead of the woodoo," he mocks, failing at the whole serious part of this conversation.

Charles groans again and collapses back onto the bed, throwing an arm over his face. "Out of all the people, I had to end up in your bed."

Max smirks and decides to stop fighting the urge he feels since the alarm ringing, and leans to kiss Charles on the cheek. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

"Don’t," Charles mumbles. "And don’t wake me up again unless the apartment is on fire. Or my mom is at the door. Actually, no, especially not then."

Max laughs, pulling himself out of bed. "I’ll let her know you’re busy...Sleeping through the consequences of your actions."

Charles throws a pillow at him, missing entirely, and buries himself back under the covers. "I hate you," he grumbles, his voice muted by the duvet. No, you don't.

Max has to stop and take in the sight of him. He just has to. It's impossible not to. His limbs are all tangled up in the messy bed, stains reminding him of the things they did in the dark. Sorry, not in the dark, in the dimly lit bedroom.

And it's like he feels his gaze. There is one final master groan and Charles lifts himself up. "Okay. Fine. Let's do this your way. So that you have some mistakes to learn from."

"Attaboy," Max says as he walks over to the dresser.

Charles is behind him in a fraction of a second. Hand casually placed on his back as he goes and yankes Max's head left, then right.

"What the fuck are you doing now," Max complains, once again encountered with the inexplicable behavior, so characteristic to Charles.

"I'm looking for any hickeys," he says, highlighting the importance of this topic. "I think you're fine," he concludes and brushes his finger over a red spot above Max's collarbone. Shiver runs through the whole of Max. "This can be covered by a t-shirt, that's fine."

He spins him around, as if he's a mere doll, and shamelessly studies his face. Max is not used to think kind of look and has trouble picking out an appropriate reaction.

"Okay, you're allowed to go," Charles remarks, like the most important person on the planet he is, "Hop in to the shower real quick and let's get going."

Max casually shakes his head. "No time for shower, I'll just have to use a lot of deodorant," he dismissed, but does not move.

The look Charles gives him is one he has never seen on his face. A mixture of amusement, disbelief and coldness, giving away that there is no way this is going to go in any other direction than his. Then he speaks again, after a dramatic pause he spends studying Max's face.

"Chéri," he says almost condescendingly, "there is my dried cum in your hair and if you think I'm letting you go to see my mama like this, we need to have another serious talk."

It's said as a joke, because this time Charles's confidence in his truth, is on point. Max's eyes shoot wide, horrified expression on. He does not say anything and just nods. Charles nods right back at him, but with eyebrows shot up and the corners of his lips turned.

"Be quick, she hates when people are late."

Max steps out of the shower, towel hanging low - two can go about playing mind games here - only to find Charles pacing the living room with his phone pressed to his ear. He is dressed what Max recognizes as one of his t-shirts, little too big for Charles, hanging off one shoulder like some kind of stupid fashion statement. Charles spots him and mutes the call.

“We’re leaving together,” Charles declares, cutting off any protests with a raised hand. Well, that is a shift of attitude over there.

“You’re coming to your mom’s salon with me?”

“No,” Charles whispers, like the idea is preposterous and follows it up with an eye roll. “I’m coming with you because I will navigate you."

Max is slightly offended. “I’ve been there six times.”

"Like that would make any difference. I know a shortcut. Get dressed, now!" he spares him one look before getting back to his phone call. "Yes, yes, that's a good tip." His speech is frantic and Max does not bother trying to figure what this drama queen is up to now. His goal is to get dressed and get going. Simple man, remember?

"Mama, what’s your stance on fresh herbs? Do they really make a difference?” echoes from the living room. Max raises an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe to observe this circus. Charles spots him, eyes narrowing into a silent don’t even think about it. Max raises his hands in surrender and mouths a silent "What are you doing?" He is met with a pair of crazy eyes. "Stalling," Charles whispers and looks at him like it's the most obvious thing ever.

Max is still not up to speed. “Stalling what?”

Charles ignores him, focused on the phone and plastering on his best innocent tone. “I mean, would it be better to make the toast in the pan? You always said buttering it first is key, but Pierre’s...What’s the word? Picky. Very picky.”

It is too early for this amount of unhinged in the morning, he thinks, as he leans back to observe Charles. Being late to his appointment seems like small price.

Charles glares at him, eyes narrowing into a warning. He mutes the phone. "I’m buying you time," he hisses. "If you show up late, she’ll know something is off."

"Why would she think that?" Max whispers back, astonished. “She has no reason to!”

"She’s my mother!" Charles retorts like that explains everything. "She doesn’t need a reason."

Max tries not to laugh as Charles un-mutes the phone yet again, turning his back like it’ll somehow help him focus. "Okay, so what about butter? Should it be room temperature?"

Max decides to just comply, dressing up as quickly as possible. He spares one look into the mirror, to check for anything suspicious while he listens to the frantic cooking questions Charles keeps throwing at his poor mother. If there is ever a reason not have children, it's because they might grow up into this kind of a lunatic.

"I'm ready to leave now, if you're done with your recipes," he says quietly, walking into the living room and looking for his keys. This earns him thumbs up from the man leaning over his kitchen counter.

Charles mutters something under his breath and then, louder, says into the phone, “Okay, mama, I have to go now. Thank you for the advice. Love you.” And hangs up before waiting for the answer. Max has so many questions. He puts them in the "WTF" drawer in his brain, along with the rest of information he has about Charles Leclerc.

"No, I said, take a left on the next street, not this one," Charles throws his hands in the air for what seems like the fifth time.

"Remind me never to pick you as a co-driver for anything more dangerous that a commute drive," Max comments, because Charles giving vague instructions and then getting mad when he does not do what Charles had envisioned, is starting to seriously piss Max off. He makes a big mental note not to allow Charles to ever enter the world of endurance driving.

Monaco is tiny, it takes him like seven minutes to get there. He is pretty sure they are just adding time up by choosing the small streets instead of he usual way, like a normal person would. Then again - this is Charles. Normal does not cover it. Even though Max is nearing furious, there is still something exciting and warming about this experience. He is playing along thought, driving like a maniac, passing cars easily left and right, pretty sure that his tickets are pilling up. Small price for having a little fun morning with Charles.

"No! Now go left!" he yells and were it not for the years spent driving F1 cars, they'd be crashed in some wall right now. But, this is Max Verstappen. So he drift into the left turn that Charles is so hung up on. He is rewarded by a laugh of approval as he avoids the traffic.

Max pulls the car into a quiet street, parallel to where Pascale's salon sits in its picturesque charm. He kills the engine and settles down, his built up heart rate going down again. He awaits instructions. This is Charles's territory.

Charles fidgets with the hem of Max’s t-shirt and glances at the street in front of them, eyeing for any witnesses. “Okay, I’ll go first,” he says. "You stay in for two minutes." He looks at him, searching for a hint of agreement. Max does nothing but nod.

He gulps, his tone serious for the first time this day. "Please don't tell my mom anything, I'm-"

Max does not want to hear the rest of the sentence. Not right now. Not when he's still in the haze of what is waking up next to Charles. He wants to keep the illusion of perfection up for just a little while.

“Charles,” Max interrupts, leaning forward slightly. His voice is softer now, grounding. “She doesn’t know anything.”

Charles bites the inside of his cheek, his eyes flickering to Max’s. “She doesn’t, yet.”

This is the moment when you give me a goodbye kiss, Max thinks and lingers. But Charles is too distracted, caught up in his own thoughts and visibly lost in them. "Good. Um, see you," he says and briskly gets out of the car.

The space Charles left behind feels heavier than it should, and Max can’t help but stare at the spot where he disappeared. He left just like he entered his apartment yesterday. Like a sudden, unexpected summer rain. He waits the two minutes. Making sure he's not watching Charles leave, because it it too hard to consume that image right now.

He's got to give it to Charles, his schemes, however weird and over-the-top, seem to work. Max is standing in front of the salon, waiting on Pascale, who is late.

It dawns on him the moment he sees her coming. She has the same frantic walk as her son. The lines around her eyes curling in a similar way. Her smile, calming and inviting. Max shifts awkwardly from foot to foot, his nerves bubbling over as Pascale strides toward him with the unmistakable Leclerc determination. He doesn’t even know what, but Charles’s paranoia has taken root in his brain, and now he’s convinced he’ll somehow screw this up. He should have cancelled. Oh, God. How is he going to pull this off? This is all too stressful for what is suppose to be downtime. His team thinks he's relaxing, working out and getting ready for the next races. Not that he's checking his pulse every five seconds to see if this is a heart attack, or if the Leclerc's still have more room to play with him.

Pascale Leclerc, the elegant woman she is, greets him in the usual sweet voice that keeps him coming back. Her mom energy is strong. "Hello Max! I am terribly sorry to be late - I'll make it up to you with the tea you seem to love so much!" she says as she opens the door without even looking at it.

"No worries, I am in no rush, Mrs. Leclerc," he replies, trying to come off as casual as possible.

He receives a smile. Maybe this will all work out just fine.

He scrolls mindlessly on his phone while he waits for her to set her gear up. His goal is to appear busy and unapproachable. Also, what else is he suppose to do with his hands? He gives her a weak smile as she comes over to him with a tea in her hand and scissors in another. She asks him few questions about his desired haircut and he gives her complete freedom. At least like this, Charles won't be able to tease him about his hair ever again. Things are calm, she tells him about the new Monaco bakery and it seems like he might just pull it all off.

"Next time you come in, you don't have to wash your hair beforehand. That's what I am here for, sweetheart," he proclaims as she examines his damp hair. His stomach turns three times, he stiffs up completely and there is unmistakable redness in his cheeks, staring at him back in the mirror. Oh, Jesus. This is all so wrong. The word shame does not cover it. He jerked her son off. Charles sucked his dick last night. He feels so incredibly dirty and somewhat guilty. And she has no idea, blissfully unaware her son's fingers left the places she is now touching barely minutes ago.

"I'm sorry..." he manages to roll out an apology from the deepest part of his soul.

She smiles, like the morning treated her well and like she slept soundly. "No worries, I'm just saying it so that you know."

Max is happy to keep her thinking he is just stupid. Rather than suspecting anything else. He did make sure to wash his hair clean, his goal being to scrub it all off any remains of last night. Oh, God. How did he get into this mess in the first place?

"I told Charles you were coming in today," she says casually, unknowingly torturing her customer. The red does not go away and Max wonders if make up is something he should be looking into from now on, because this is unbearable. "He mentioned something about a party last night? On a yacht?"

There it was. Charles warned him. He's got to prove himself. He puts on a PR smile and looks at her reflection in the mirror. "Oh, I was too tired. Didn't go and stayed home." This is safe answer, he thinks. Does not offer room for any follow up.

She frowns and continues. "You're kind of quiet today, is everything alright with you?" This woman has laser eyes.

"Yeah, all good! Everything is great, just the season is tough this year," he says, managing to sound quite convincing.

The answer seems to satisfy her and she smiles again. "You tell me, I have no idea where Charles gets his energy to party all night. Didn't even come home. Then he calls me to ask questions about how to cook a celebratory breakfast for Pierre. He's such a good friend to him, don't you think?"

Somehow, especially after knowing Charles and the fact this woman raised him, he does not buy this at all. But, this realization does not shake him. On the contrary, it adds him some flare he lacked until now.

"Pierre is a great guy to be friends with. To be honest, I don't know Charles that well, but Pierre seems to keep him in check and helps him in the world of F1." Lies. Pierre is an enabler, someone who Max will keep a closer eye on from now on.

She hums, clearly unimpressed with his vague answers, and pats the salon chair. “Sit still. Let’s see what we’re working with today.” It sounds like a threat.

Max obeys, sinking into the chair as she moves around him, strangely resembling a vulture. It's amazing how someone can oscillate between innocent mom energy and interrogation vibe. His pulse is pounding so loudly he wonders if she can hear it. Her hands move quickly and efficiently.

“Charles said you two went on some drive through the woods recently,” she asks conversationally, combing through his hair. “Something about smashing a car?”

His lip roll into a thin line. Well, wouldn't it be nice to know this beforehand, Charles. Thanks for letting me know, dumbass.

He curses Charles in his mind with every Dutch insult he's ever heard. Then goes onto German and when he runs out, ends up with English. For all the talking Charles does, he surely knows what information to leave out.

He coughs, breath stuck in his throat. He quickly apologized, blaming it on the tea. Pull it together Max, Jesus.

"Yeah. I took him to our cottage. He looked like he needed to blow some steam off," he speaks and immediately slaps himself internally for using the word blow. Pascale, do you wanna know how good your son's mouth is? He is mortified by his own thoughts. "I hope you don't mind, it was my old car and I need to get rid of it, I am never going to repair it and-" he blabbers on, and would be ready to talk for good fifteen minutes to divert the attention, but she stops him.

"Max - All good. I'm happy Charles is fitting in F1 and that he does things other than driving and sitting alone reading all the reports. He can get so lost in it sometimes and this...However strange I might find that activity, it is one day going to be a fun memory. And it's important to have those," she smiles and cuts away, like this is all just another typical session.

Max is taken back by that sentiment. He is not used to this, does not know how to absorb it without making sarcastic comments.

He swallows and replies the only thing he can think of. "Thanks."

“Oh, don’t look so worried,” she teases, patting his shoulder. “He speaks very highly of you. Said you’re… what was the word? Determined. Yes, that was it. He admires that about you. Apparently, it's a hard pill to swallow just how good your driving is sometimes."

Max’s stomach flips, again, so violently he’s sure it’s going to come out of his mouth. Swallow. Uhm. Great. Good to know there is something in in the world that Charles finds hard to swallow. Max really should have cancelled, stay in bed with Charles and bicker until the end of time. He doesn’t want to say anything, but he knows silence is worse. He has to stop this now.

"I'm sure he wouldn't like me knowing that," he fakes a laugh and digs his nail into his jeans. Thankfully, the questions stops, because she is about to turn on an electric razor. Max swears on one day becoming an ambassador for the brand. For free. Because, the safety the loud sound provides, is truly priceless. Few minutes of peace. Max is grateful. But, everything good ends eventually and soon there is silence again.

Pascale starts combing through his hair, and the rhythmic motion is almost calming. Almost. Because just when it looks like they got over the topic of her son, certain someone decides to grace the room with his presence.

The door opens, and none other that Charles enters.

"Hi, mama!" he greets his mother cheerfully. She stops her movements, gives Max one quick apologetic look and goes into hugging her son. As his own reflection burns back right at him, he wonders what bad thing had Max done in his previous life to end up in this mortifying scenario. He uses this split second of opportunity and flips his phone out.

"This is a mistake" he manages to type a text super quickly to the brown haired menace of a man, hoping he reads it asap. He doesn't. Of course. His phone most likely on silent mode. Why would the world make anything easier for Max, ever. No, Charles is busy running for the Son of the Year, apparently.

"Mama, I brought you some pastries, from the shop you love so much," he says after she releases him from her embrace. "Figured you might be hungry."

Max sees in the reflection that she smiles and it does look like an innocent family moment. But, he knows Charles. He probably has fireworks stacked in his pockets and is not afraid to use them to distract his mom. Ugh.

His mom is smitten, they exchange few more pleasantries and she returns back to her job, while her son strolls into the backside and helps himself to some tea.

"Oh, hi Max. Forgot you'd be here today. I'd have brought you something too," he says oh-so-casually.

"Hi, Charles," he retorts, appreciating the fact Charles managed to at least go home and dress into something other than Max's t-shirt. Life is a real bitch lately, he has to look for the positives somewhere. Max tenses, bracing for whatever fresh chaos Charles is about to unleash.

Charles walks back into the room with his cup of tea, exuding a breezy confidence that Max has only seen in people who’ve never accidentally dug their own graves. Max shifts in his chair, suddenly feeling like he’s under a spotlight. Pascale's attention flicks to Max, as she continues her job, her expression as composed as ever, though Max swears there’s a glimmer of something sharper in her gaze. He swallows.

“So,” Charles begins, sitting casually in one of the vacant hairdresser chairs, “the party last night? Amazing. I have so many great friends, mama.”

Max decides to focus his gaze on a random spot on the wall, desperately hoping for Charles to pick a safer topic.

“It was classic Pierre. Total chaos, but fun. Oh, and Max!” Charles laughs, pointing vaguely in his direction. “You should’ve seen him, mama. He got so drunk. I’ve never seen him like that.”

No.

It's like somebody drops a stone on his head. He risks a glance at Pascale, who is now looking at him with raised eyebrows, her smile soft but distinctly knowing. Max closes his eyes for three seconds. How does one stop this train from crashing? Just how stupid Charles is being is beyond him. To blame sleep-deprivation would be unfair to sleep-deprivation.

“Max got drunk?” Pascale says, her tone warm but laced with curiosity. “At the party?”

"Charles..." he says, trying to fit too much into this one word. Stop. Please stop talking. Look at your mother, she is getting suspicious. Max can see she that she is pretending to work on his hair, when in fact, she is merely brushing through. Like mother, like son.

“Yeah!” Charles continues enthusiastically, completely missing the tone of Max's plea. “He was dancing like...well, you’d have to see it to believe it.” He adds few obscure moves with his hands to make it "believable".

Max opens his mouth again, but no sound comes out. Pascale’s gaze is laser-focused on him now, quiet and steady. It’s not accusatory. More like she’s waiting for him to slip up.

“Hmm,” Pascale hums lightly, sipping her tea now, her expression neutral but her eyes still locked on Max.

Charles barrels on, completely oblivious. “Anyway, the chef Pierre hired? Incredible. He made this truffle thing...”

Max isn’t paying attention anymore. Pascale’s gaze hasn’t left his face, and in it, he sees everything. The quiet assessment, the sharp intuition, the undeniable knowing. It’s not about the supposed drunken party, it’s about something else entirely. Something unspoken.

Max manages to keep his face carefully blank. Pascale doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t have to. There’s a silent conversation happening between them, one Max isn’t sure he’s winning.

Charles continues his story, gesturing animatedly about the food, unaware as they come. Pascale tilts her head slightly, her lips twitching in a way that could almost be a smile.

She sips her tea again, finally breaking eye contact to look at Charles. “Sounds like quite the party,” she says simply, her tone light and amused.

Max exhales slowly, the tension in his chest easing ever so slightly. But when Pascale glances at him again, her eyes glinting with quiet amusement, he knows this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

After his five minute long monologue it's actually Pascale, that kindly orders Charles to leave her shop, because other customers were coming in and his speech was drawing too much attention.

And now here he is, sitting in his mother’s salon, trying not to fall apart under the weight of it all.

There is a scary silence as she does some final touch ups. "There, all done. Do you like it?" she asks, making it obvious that she has the upper hand. "It's perfect, as always," he mutters and scrapes up all of the courage left over in his bones. "I didn't want you to think I'm some sort of drunk," he adds, knowing the hole is so deep at this point that to dig a little further does not make any difference whatsoever. She smirks, nods and makes sure to let him know that she does not judge him at all. Max leaves a tip a little too big for someone who's "not hiding anything". He is not sure whether he should feel guilty. As he if he defiled the family’s honor by spending last night worshipping her son.

He walks home, trying to wrap his head around what has happened in the part twelve hours. Yesterday, he woke up thinking his biggest problem would be the unanswered email from the development department, that was sitting at the top of his inbox. Now, apparently, it's Charles, his mom and by the extension anyone that has the fortune of running into Charles in Monaco, because the man is unpredictable as they possibly come.

But, in all of the stomach rolling Max experienced in the past few hours, there is also something completely, utterly soothing. In amidst of all the chaos, there are the small little moments him and Charles shared. The whole time, he can’t stop thinking about him. About the way he looked last night, the way he said Max’s name like it meant something. After walking for few minutes, he remembers that he actually drove there and forgot about his car.

As he sits in the driver seat, he can still feel the reminisce of Charles's presence. He wonders what he's up to now.

The phone in his hand absentmindedly opens up at the text chain with him. The "this is a mistake" text marked as read, ten minutes ago. He mutters few curse words under his breath. Given the time this text was seen - and not responded to - he could only imagine where Charles's wild imagination took him. Max is too tired to overthink this. Unlike Charles, he's not afraid to call him and clarify the situation, before it escalates and Charles gets the wrong idea. He dials his number immediately. It gets picked after few long dials.

"Hey," he hears on the other line. Tone neutral, flat and with no sign of emotion. Okay, damage has been done apparently. So he gets talking before it goes further.

"Hi, so...Got a nice haircut from your mom," he sighs, trying not to overthink this. Deep breath in. "Um, the last text I sent you was intended as a warning when you walked in the door." Max swallows, trying not to imagine how lame he sounds right now. He just does not want Charles to get the wrong idea. He is squeezing the hand that's not holding the phone. "It's not like....referred to anything else. Just so we're clear." He pauses, giving him some space for a reaction. His nose flinches as nothing comes for few seconds.

"Charles?" he tries, biting his cheek.

There is a light cough at the other, as if Charles was cleaning his throat. "No, yeah. I figured. That's what I thought. But, thanks for telling me," he skips one word over another and Max bites his lip, knowing that he is definitely lying. He's not going to tease him about it today. Gotta save something for a rainy day.

"Right," he concludes and another silence follows before he speaks again. Max watches people walk by, all of them beautifully unaware of what his day entailed so far. In a split second, he finds himself wishing it stays that way. For safety. So that they have some freedom to figure shit out. "Good job at your mom's. Real good story," he says sarcastically, to keep the conversation flowing.

There is a notable shift in Charles's tone, more excited and relaxed. "Right?," he says, proudly, either missing or ignoring the sarcasm. "I had to go and save you, mama is too good at this game. Distracting her is the best way to go about it." Max fights a laugh, amused by Charles's delusions. But it is so nice to hear him so sure of himself and happy. He does not want to destroy that. "Yeah, good job. It's just..."

"What?" Charles asks, suddenly worried.

Max calculates. "No, I fumbled up before you came and told her I wasn't at the party."

"Ah."

He is quick to speak before Charles has the chance. "No, but what you said was good, when you left, I told her I was embarrassed about getting so drunk," he leans against the head rest and thinks that the only thing that's embarrassing is the way he can see himself grinning in the mirror.

"Okay, okay..." Charles pauses and thinks for a moment. "That's good, makes it believable."

Maybe one day he will understand just how Charles's brain works. But for now, it's an exciting, unpredictable journey he's enjoyed so far.

"It's my mother, I know her the best. She is not suspecting a thing!" Max does not fight him on that - no point, because the damage has been done and it's probably just a matter of time before Pascale figured the truth out. He is fine with that.

"It's your family, your fight. I just..." he pauses before getting the harder part of the sentence out.

"Tell me, Max," Charles encourages.

"Please don't do this, or any other unpredictable things in front of my family. It's a bit more difficult situation with them." Hearing his biggest worry said out loud works in the exact opposite as psychology books would suggest. Saying it means it's real. And Max is not ready for that. He pushes it down as deep as possible.

"Of course," Charles reacts, his tone soft. "I totally understand." Max can only hope he does. He prays for it.

"Thank you. I hope we can keep this between ourselves...There is a lot to think about," he says pragmatically. It's all fun and games with Charles, but it could very quickly escalate to something career-ending, and for some reason, Max thinks he's the more rational one about this whole thing.

"No, that's for sure. Thank you for saying it, it's good to clear that out." Maybe, just maybe, there is a chance this all does not blow up in their faces.

"Good," Max confirms and fiddles with his t-shirt.

"Um, so, me and my little brother are gonna play some football later today...If you want to join," Charles asks carefully. Max's first instinct is to say yes. However, on second thought, meeting his brother, after the fiasco with his mother...That's a whole lot of Leclerc for one day. Max needs some time to process things. Some breath of fresh air, before they embark on racing again in few days.

"Thanks, but I got shit tone of prep to do for Singapore. But, next time, definitely."

"Of course, I'm sure the data is as much excited to see you as I am," Charles flirts and it does work on Max, maybe a little too much.

"You're insane," he says, affectionately.

"And yet, you're the one who called," Charles react with a "right back at ya" undertone.

"I'm hanging up now, Charles."

"I'm not playing this game with you," he laughs and actually hungs up.

Maybe one day, Max will be able to predict Charles's next move. One day. It's definitely not going to happen any time soon. But, for all the silent inner monologue, calling him crazy or reckless, he is glad that Charles is doing things that way. Because, if they were both like Max, they'd both be sitting home. In a calm, but lonely peace.

He watches from afar, cosmic energy surrounding Charles the following days. His new contract announcement breaks the news and his face is everywhere. When he finally gets a glimpse of him at the paddock, t's like someone finally painted Charles in colors, instead of the black and white ghost that roamed around this summer. Max recalls when he got pushed into the top team. How thrilling those days were. He figures this happens only once in one's life. When you finally achieve what you've dreamt of for years, decades maybe. And before you have yet to discover all the dark sides of the dream, all the things you either didn't anticipate or purposefully ignored, to keep yourself pushing. It's an ugly industry they picked. Merciless, cruel, unjust and cutthroat. Bleeds you dry and leaves you, when you need help the most. But, the highs are indescribable. He knows it, Charles knows it, they share the urge to fight, win and keep fighting. There is nothing like getting the overtake done. No comparison to finally getting the promise of a top team car after years of sacrificing. He does not want to taint those days. No matter how much he'd like to share the joy Charles must be feeling, he can't trust himself around him at the moment. He wants to talk to him, touch his body and drive around in circles around every city they end up in. The door is not fully open yet, but Max has a feeling, deep down in his bones, that it won't be just another hook up for him. It is entirely possible, that Max is using the excuse of Charles's post-signing days as an excuse. To allow himself to hang on the few moments when he is free of anyone else living in his head rent free. Entirely possible. There is no way of knowing.

Singapore is one of Max's favorite places. Not necessarily for the track, but the city hums and shines, everyone is a visitor and rarely anyone is a local. He had been on the road so much that a concept of a home, a place he's from, is sort of foreign. If you'd ask him that question, he'd probably reply that his home is his car. It is also the fact the jet-lag works somewhat to his favor, he had always liked the nights more anyway. Things roll in the same way as they always do. The familiarity is cut by the few texts him and Charles share, random updates from their day. That is entirely new. Anytime his phone dings, it's like a line of cocaine shot directly into his brain. He often thinks about their night. Explores the new world of sex Charles introduced. This is probably not the first time in history someone justifies watching gay porn as "study material".

It's not unusual for Max to get stuck at a some semi-official dinner. He understands the importance of it, when it's a sponsor or charity thing. But, as he finds himself sitting at another table shared with his father and Christian Horner only, he figures he needs to get better at making up excuses. Jos always put made a great deal of any opportunity he got to spend with someone like a team principle and would not back down even after the achieved the goal of getting Max signed. Max has the sentence "building connections" burned into his memory and it works almost Pavlovian. Unless there is a clear clash in his calendar, he gets up and goes to whoever his father need him to parade to. He considers it a small price for all the things he had done to help him where he is now.

One day, one day he will say no to a dinner with only him and Christian. One day.

It always goes the same. On testing days, the less prominent ones, they get a table at the nearest steak house and the two older men feast, while Max tries to find an option suitable to his diet. He is way past by using up his cheat meals with these two. He likes them, he really does. Both men have something interesting to say and he tries to learn from their conversations. Not really minding the way how he feels more like a decorative piece, than a real participant. It's when they overdo it too much with the whiskey and get onto more lenient topics when it starts to become unbearable.

Max shifts uncomfortably in his chair, his half-eaten chicken breast pushed to the side of his plate. Across from him, Christian and Jos are deep into their conversation, which feels more like series of monologues, than an actual dialogue. Max just wants to leave.

"It's not getting any easier, Jos, let me tell you. Not with all the initiative to get more women on the road," Christian mumbles, pleased with himself as he waves over for another round of drinks. "The path to hell is paved with good intentions. I'm all for equality," he says like means it, but both Verstappens know that is not the case, "But nobody has balls big enough to address the obvious effect this is going to have," he comments and looks at Jos for support.

"What happens on the road, stays on the road," Jos concurs the infamous phrase uttered usually right before marriage vows are about to get broken. "It was always like that and it's going to stay that way. People will just have to be more careful, now that everyone carries a professional camera in their pocket. Thank fuck that was not the case in my old days." The two men share knowing smiles, heavily implying they'd seen their fare share of unplanned love affairs. Max's heart sinks in. He's heard that one line countless of times. This is the part of the evening when Max usually tunes out. When he was a teenager, he would laugh with along side, finding it all exciting and a nice perk of this lifestyle. People slip up when they spend most of their days and nights away from home. And the paddock community allows that, unwritten rules making sure the families, wives, girlfriends or partners don't find out from other people. The older Max gets, the more sick this all feels. Yes, it is hard, but some people don't seem to try at all. He tries to forget the moments his dad left him alone to get his midnight fix. Still does not know if he did the right thing by covering for him, be it that from his own mother or whichever girlfriend came after her.

He's not going to sit and argue, judge his father or his team principal. After all, they'd done this far longer than him and who knows - maybe it is impossible not to at least slip up. What happens on the road, stays on the road. That sentence fills him with ever-present dread. The hopelessness and nihilism of it all rings bitterly in his ears. No, it does not stay on the road. I had to look my mother in the eyes and pretend like I don't know anything.

He thinks of Charles and imagines him saying these words to his peers. It makes it all so much worse, but this is typical Max. When he'd down, he tends to give into it and go forward to the despair. He fantasizes about Charles hiding things from him, clandestine meetings with other people and inevitably turning into the same type of person like his current dinner partners are. Misery loves company could be Max's motto.

He sits there in silence, trying not to absorb the story Christian is telling about a woman he hooked up with three races ago. It is a particularly uninteresting story, if you take the infidelity out of it. Max thinks of his wife and how sincerely she hugged him four races ago. Apparently, it only takes missing one race to get forgotten.

A text dings on his phone. Maybe it will release him from this misery. "Is your dinner over? Wanna meet up?"

He hasn't seen Charles since his stand-up at the hair salon. The memory is a total contrast to what ever he had been imagining the past few minutes.

He hovers his fingers over the screen, debating which direction to take this. It's rude to leave the dinner early. But the two men haven't even addressed him since their third glass. He would absolutely love to see Charles and run away from this all. However, he knows how he gets when he's in this mood. Silent and mercurial. Twisting his thumbs, he decides to just type. Charles does not seem to filter anything out ever, so maybe that's the way to go about it. Anything but whatever his father is doing. "Still at the dinner, I'd kill for a save out of it. But a warning. I'm feeling a bit weird. So like...I'm probably not the best company today"

He hits send before he can rethink this decision. With his lips turned down, he returns his attention to the conversation. The topic seems to be one of the female logistics manager from Williams. And her physical qualities. It's exhausting to witness this.

Max exhales, the tension in his chest making his voice sharper than he intended. “Maybe it’s not the road. Maybe it’s just you," he whispers, not sure if he want that to go noticed or not. It doesn't.

A ding. "I can handle grumpy Max. Share me your location. I'm going on a run. We can go for a walk to get you out of your head, hm?"

This is when Max is glad that his father is too lazy to pick a place further than ten minutes away from the hotel. He does as Charles asks and puts his phone away. He is utterly doomed. Smile already creeping into his face as he watches the men, who are looking uglier every minute. The idea of joking around with Charles is an addictive one. Which precisely what makes this all so much worse. It's a quick fix, that he can't imagine won't cash its price in the future. But, he can't help himself. He counts the minutes, hoping each one is the last one.

In the end, it's very easy to get out of the dinner. Both of them understanding that racing comes first. They don't need to know the truth (Jos' words anyway).

Rush washes over Max as he walks out and heads over an alleyway two streets away where, supposedly, Charles is waiting on him.

It feels all the best kinds of wrong, and yet pure and innocent. He keeps looking around, trying to see if anyone recognizes him, so that he could get ahead of that situation. Seems like luck is on his side this time. The dim alley feels like world apart from the lively street he left behind. Charles doesn’t move, his posture relaxed, his hood pulled low enough to cover most of his face in the shadow. Yet, Max knows it’s him. He could pick out Charles in a crowd of thousands. Max slows down, looking over his shoulder once more time. Charles stays in the dark and waits for Max to walk towards him.

“Max,” Charles says, his voice low, quiet enough that it feels like the name is meant just for him. Then he finally walks one step closer, letting the light into his face.

Charles looks like something too elegant for this setting. His lips curled up, patches of light stubble mapping his youthful features. The hoodie drowns his body, yet he can make it all work. His eyes shine and one would easily believe he is glad to see him. Max stops and smiles back at him. He is fully aware of his own insecurity about what happens next. Nobody gives you a protocol about these situations.

Charles shakes his head, biting his smile down. "Na-ah. Closer," he orders and it sounds like an invitation.

Eyes glued at him, Max does one, comically small step and grins back at him.

Without a blink, Charles repeats. "Closer."

Max also repeats his moves, stopping just shy of brushing against Charles. The distance between them is barely a breath, one arm’s length, close enough that he could touch him without even reaching. His fingers twitch at his sides, aware of how little space there is now, how easily that space could disappear. Chills running down his spine.

Charles, obviously amused, continues. "Closer," he dares him and Max is sure that even a dead person wouldn't be able to defy this command.

He kills any notion of a space between them, reaches to tangle their fingertips and painfully slowly leans over to connect their lips together. Immediately upon feeling his soft lips, butterflies fill up every possible space in Max's body. The touch is light, intoxicating in just how casual and easy it all feels. Few more brushes before Charles smiles into the kiss and pulls away, to Max's dislike.

"Slow down, lover boy," he murmurs, still staying impossibly close. "We're still in public," he reminds Max, who's rational part of brain is grateful for this.

Max nods and licks his lips, taking in any residue of Charles. He watches him, expression changing from simply flirtatious to something more serious. He looks at him, like he is a code he needs to decipher.

"Let's go, Max Emilian. There's this jelly tea thing I really want to try," he announces and gestures at him to get going the same way he came. There's something about the specific blend of accent this man has that is music to Max's ears. Also, he really likes this new way of greeting Charles.

Max is led by Charles through number of buzzing streets, narrow and wide and it would almost fool you into thinking this isn't the first time Charles is in the city. Just when Max is getting progressively more certain they are lost, a lively corner reveals a street full of small food stands, eclectic shops and little tables set up for those wanting to sit down for a moment.

Charles is his usual cheerful self, carefree and talkative. He asks Max if he wants to hear few crazy things from the first days of him being publicly Ferrari and only starts to blabber once Max assures him that he really wants to hear it. It seems like Charles took the text about his mood more seriously than Max would expect him to. He is careful in his actions and more aware of the surrounding world outside his own existence. Max is happy to get distracted by his stories. Many of them remind him of his early days at Red Bull, though a few highlight just how different the scarlet team’s philosophy is from his own home garage.

"We absolutely have to get you a hat," Charles interrupts his own story in the middle and seemingly abandons it completely. He jogs to the nearest shop with some obscure hats and caps on display and waves at Max, encouraging him to come over with a smile suggests there is little to no room for him to protest.

Max approaches the shop slowly, but it looks like the door for contributing to that decision has closed. Charles holds up a straw hat adorned with a blue feather, his face lighting up with a look of approval.

"Perfect. This will work," he says and puts the hat on Max. It feels like something out of a youtube challenge video.

"Why do we need this?" Max asks conversationally, having quickly accepted that this is going to happen. It's Charles. He runs on different fuel than the rest of the world and Max would do almost anything just to see him smile.

Charles has his proud face on. "We need to hide you a bit. You are too obvious." The happy show assistant accepts Charles bit tip.

"And this big hat is going to help how?" he wonders out loud as they keep walking down the street. Charles's fingers brush gently over Max's as he walks past him - and he knows that's not accidental.

He turns his head and his lips are forming a cunning smile. "Max Verstappen would never wear something like that without being forced to."

"Well, I am being forced to!"

"See? Everything I say is true."

Max stares at his cup skeptically. “You’re sure this isn’t just sugar water?”

“Chin chaw,” Charles educates him.

“Chin what?” Max asks, observing the contents of the drink with visible suspicion.

“Chin chaw,” Charles repeats, grinning. “Grass jelly drink. It’s refreshing. Trust me.” Max realizes that he looks utterly ridiculous with the hat already, but his concerned expression must be adding a new dimension to his look. Charles laughs, already taking a sip. “Try it. It’s good.”

Max hesitates but takes a sip. The drink is sweet, herbal, and oddly pleasant. The jelly slides through the straw with an unexpected texture that’s not entirely unpleasant.

“See? Not bad, right?” Charles beams.

Max shrugs, taking another sip. “It’s... okay.”

They find a quiet spot at the edge of the bustling street, leaning against a low wall as the crowd flows around them. Charles takes another sip, his gaze fixed on Max.

“Alright,” Charles says, breaking the silence. His tone is softer now, curious but firm. “Why are you in such a mood tonight? What happened?”

Max stiffens, his eyes darting away. It was nice to be distracted. To not think for a moment. "What mood?"

Charles keeps his gaze no matter how much Max tries to avoid it. "It's like you have this dark cloud following you. I'm not going to push you, if you don't want to tell me, but I just wonder what made you this upset."

Max sighs, running a hand through his hair, forgetting the damn hat. He takes it off and shoots Charles a semi-apologetic look. "I’m not upset."

“Okay.” Charles’s voice drops, gentler but insistent. “You are. But I'm happy to see you either way." His smile is soft and innocent.

Max doesn’t speak right away, swirling the straw in his drink as if it holds the answer. He finds it strange how Charles sees through him. He tried to so hard to push it all inside.

"It’s nothing," Max finally mutters, his tone unconvincing. "Just tired."

Charles leans closer, his shoulder brushing Max’s. "No. This is more than that. I’ve seen you tired. This is... something else."

Max exhales sharply, avoiding Charles’s gaze. The words on his mind beg to get out. He stares into the busy street. All the normal people, who don't get to race a formula 1 car mingling around, unburdened.

"Do you ever think how your life would look without racing?" he opens up and immediately feels like an idiot. Charles is still his rival, this is not something he should be hearing.

But there is no lightness in Charles's tone as he speaks. "Sometimes. It's a strange life. So far though, it seems like the right path."

He leaves space for Max to follow up. "I just...Sometimes I look at the people in the industry, especially those who had been in it for decades...And they sort of scare me," he admits for the first time. It feels strange to say it like that. But, it's the truth. "They have this weird look in their eyes, cynical and it feels like they become slaves of the lifestyle."

Charles thinks for a moment. "It's an addiction, this job and this world. Especially as drivers, we get so used to the adrenaline, the constant travel, never in one place for more than few weeks...It's why I love Monaco so much. It keeps me grounded," Charles tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing in thought as his fingers absently trace the rim of his cup. "What's the thing that scares you the most?"

"I guess the whole family and inner circle aspect. It's so hard to keep in touch with people outside of racing. And every year, or few years, you're facing the threat of getting dropped by your team and then what? The longer you're on the grid, the more your life becomes the people surrounding you. I have to say. I don't like many of them."

Charles studies him so intensely, Max has to avert his eyes to the crowds again. The Monegasque reaches for his leg with his heel and entangles then, probably instead of reaching over with his hand, for anyone to see. His movement is subtle but deliberate, his heel brushing against Max’s ankle before hooking gently around his leg. Max can't help but appreciate the nice intimate gesture. "We're so focused with this specific vision," his hands mimic the shape of a tunnel, "that I'm worried I might get lost in it. Missing out on so many other things in life."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, family celebrations, studying university, having a successful marriage." It feels extremely strange to dump this out on the guy who sucked his dick last time they saw each other. But, Max is in a mood today. "If you want to survive in this world, you have to be super focused and sacrifice everything."

There's a glint in Charles's eyes. A wondering look, the unknown. He takes his time responding.

"You really think you have to give it up all to win?" he speaks with certainty that Max finds almost odd.

The pit in Max's chest does not stop growing. "That's all I've ever heard from everyone. It’s not just a job. It’s our whole existence."

"Maybe you're listening to the wrong people," Charles says, his voice sounding like he's not sure where his response it going to end up. "It’s true, this world can eat you alive. But it doesn’t have to. There’s still room for joy, for the small things that remind you why you wanted this in the first place. I think the trick is holding onto those moments before they slip away," he wonders, sounding remarkably like his mother. "However, and you might know something about this," he teases, "The cliché thing about losing automatically when you give up trying, is nothing but true. I'm sure that many people had told you that it's impossible to get into F1. And yet, look at where you're sitting."

It does make sense, in fact it's so obvious it makes Max feel almost foolish. It's hard to convince yourself to believe in this when all you ever hear in bitter comments from those who walked this path before you. He's still not entirely convinced it's not just another delusional hope.

"So yeah. Give up before the fight. It's probably going to be easier," Charles notes and slurps on a particularly big peace of his tea jelly.

Max sighs loudly. If Charles thinks he does not know what game he's playing here, he is seriously mistaken. "I don't know what your goal is, but I know exactly what you're doing."

"Really? What do you think I'm doing," his lips curl into a sly smile, and he glances at Max from beneath his lashes.

"Provoking me into trying to prove you wrong."

"Maybe. You're like me, the best strategy to get you to do something is to challenge you or suggest you can't do it."

"Uhm." Max has an inkling this speaks more about Charles rather than himself. "So what's your goal?"

"Gotta keep you in F1."

"Why?! No offense, but it would be quite good for you if I just decide to say fuck it all and flip my entire life upside down."

Charles shakes his head, mischief written all over his face. "I have to beat you on track again."

Max scoffs. Of course.

Charles speaks loudly again, his tone more at ease. "I won't be sitting here in twenty years, listening to you bitching and saying the only reason I'm winning is because you've retired and gone off organizing some family celebrations. It's you or me."

No, Max thinks. There is only one way this is heading. And it's getting more obvious with each day. It's you and me.

Images of the dinner, his father, Christian and all those unpleasant moments spent with them flash in front of his eyes. Soon, it's going to happen all over again. He's already dreading it.

There’s something about the way Charles speaks tonight, his voice steady but gentle, his answers so sure, him leaving no room for any doubts. For a moment, Max can’t breathe. It's a whole dance of words that are being said and the undertones hidden in between. He sits there, his legs now crossed and he looks so unburdened. Steady, calm and it seems to be working on steering Max's gloom back to normal.

This isn’t just a conversation. It’s a lifeline, a reminder that there’s something more than the dread of the cynics around him. And it hits him, sharp and undeniable: it’s Charles. It’s always been Charles. He's the one who understands. Still naive and seemingly immune to the bitterness of others.

"You’re staring, Max. Should I be flattered or worried?"

You be whatever, I am terrified - he wants to say, but doesn't. "Neither. You just... We can stop saying stupid things now," he tries to undermine the conversation, because the worry that he is reading too much into this whole thing is starting to get to him.

Charles laughs, rolls his eyes, but the tone he speaks in is inviting. "Right. Stupid. Glad to see the usual Max back."

Max chuckles and inspects the strange drink that's getting warmer with every minute.

"Can we just stay here?" he pleas quietly, more to the heavens than Charles.

"What, in Singapore?" Charles turns around, as if he's searching for something that particularly catches Max's eye to make a statement like that.

He just smiles, observing him instead. "No."

Because, what if what happens on the road, stays on the road.

Charles does not reply, but he takes a hard look around the street, looking for anyone who might have recognized them and when he start looking sure of their anonymity being protected, he picks up the ugly hat. He has his cheek expression on as he shields his face from the main street, leans in and places a small, quick kiss on Max's lips.

chapter 6

------- @chezmardybum

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eletricheart · 1 year ago

Text

First Valentine

(Donna Beneviento x Reader)

*pinterest

Word count: 1395 (ish)

So...I kind of felt bad for my last story being extremely sad. This is mostly fluff there's like one second of angst but i promise it's a happy story😭

ps: i wrote this way too fast pls lmk any mistakes

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You met Donna by deciding to pick flowers for your catalog and consequently getting lost. The dollmaker noticed your good intentions so made a flower path back into the village. She thought that would be the end of it, but you kept coming back, going further each day, knowing a path would eventually show so you could find your way home.

It was a fun game for you, however things were different for Donna. She was beyond stressed not only over why you kept coming back but also how dangerous the path was, especially if you left only at night.

One day, you wandered too far, completely ignoring the flower path. You reached her house near nightfall, leaving your catalog by her doorstep and sprinting back home to not arrive too late.

Safe to say Donna was worried you wouldn't show up the next day due to getting eaten by a lycan. She appreciated the catalog but did not understand why it was drawn since you took the flowers home everyday.

You did go the next day, this time with a cart because you simply could not carry a box the entire way to her house.

Angie was ready to scare you off once you arrived, but to the Lady of the house surprise, you didn't even flinch. Instead you spent the day talking to Angie about your catalog and showing the box full of vases with each flower you picked. You felt like you should give it back, since they belonged to Lady Beneviento.

Donna never went too far away from her Manor, afraid of running into someone even though it was her territory. But she opened an exception for you. The catalog was too much for her, she spiraled the entire day, and then you not only saved the flowers but was also so nice to Angie. She wanted, needed, you gone.

She stopped you a few steps into her dominion, shaking her head and pointing for the way back into the village.

You stared at her wide eyed, momentarily frozen. Once you regained your senses you nodded and went back home thinking that maybe it was just a bad day.

You went back the other day, and she sent you away, so you went back again and she sent you away again. It was like that for a whole month until she gave up and allowed you in. It took another month for her to stay in the same room as you.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Your first date came as a surprise to both of you. Apparently Angie had enough of you dancing around each other and locked you in a closet with a cereal box and a note saying "kiss".

Donna was frozen on spot while you were blushing furiously.

After an hour of knocking and begging Angie to let you out, you decided to open the cereal and accept your fate.

You were quick to offer to the silent woman in the room who accepted and sat beside you.

Donna was the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry about her. She's impulsive sometimes."

You chuckled and nodded. "Once she almost cut off my finger because she said i was taking too long to cut a carrot."

The dollmaker laughed and gave you a mischievous smile. "It was too long, you were there for ten minutes."

You faked an expression of betrayal and gasped. "Even you?! In my defense, there was something wrong with the knife."

"There wasn't, I had just sharpened it."

You pouted in response. "If I could, I'd walk out of here in outrage."

She giggled and lightly pushed your shoulder. "I'll stop then."

You rolled your eyes and looked back at the note. "How would she know if we kissed?"

Before Donna could even answer, you heard Angie yelling from the other side of the door. "I'm all knowing!"

Donna slightly jumped. "I raised a psychopath."

You looked at her with a solemnly. "Yes. Yes, you did."

The dollmaker threw a handfull of cereal at you right after. "I'm sorry again, she hates it when I keep a secret."

You shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I like spending time with you."

Donna blushed furiously, picking on her sleeve to slow her heart beat. "I like spending time with you too."

You nodded in understanding. "And...what if I said I liked you?"

"I'd say I like you too."

You were both smiling at each other when Angie made herself known again. "Cute but I haven't seen a kiss yet!"

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not letting her play with knives for the next decades." You said, looking over at Donna who was strangely serious. "You okay?" You asked, holding her hand.

The dollmaker nodded and stared down at your joined hands. "Can I do something impulsive?"

"Knock yourself out."

And that was your first kiss. Well...on the cheek.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Now, a year later, you were rushing around the village trying to find the perfect Valentine gift for Donna. You were both new relationship wise, at first you thought of a handmade gift but one call to Alcina and you were convinced you had to buy something expensive. Hence you head first into a tree waiting for the Duke to be over with his daily sales so he could help you.

It was almost nightfall when you returned to the Manor defeated. You didn't want to disappoint Donna, you knew how much she was secretly hoping for a gift, that was her love language after all.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

You were standing in the kitchen one hour before sunrise, you had tried countless recipes going from full meals to simple desserts, none of them seemed worth showing to Donna, how could you give a badly cooked pasta to an italian, practically a death wish.

The dollmaker was worried, she noticed you arriving late from town and leaving the bed early in the night.

She couldn't help but second guess your entire relationship, Valentine’s day was coming and you were only together for a year, this would be the first. What if you realized you didn't like her anymore? What if you're bored of her routine?

Donna wanted to go after you or at least spy through her dolls, but she was too scared of a heartbreak. So she stayed in bed, silently crying.

You went back to bed after cleaning the kitchen, leaving no evidence of your probable criminal offense to her nation. You were confused by Donna still in bed but too tired to give much thought, choosing to bury your head in the pillow.

You were almost sleeping when you heard Donna speak.

“Are you gonna leave me?”

You quickly lifted your body and turned your head towards her hidden form. “What?”

The dollmaker pulled the covers more against her face. “It’s okay, just say it and leave…please.”

You had never felt more awake than now. Your mouth was left open, stuttering a few words before properly speaking. “Donna, I-no, I-I wouldn't leave. Do you want me to leave?”

You could see her shaking her head and pulling her body even closer to herself.

You sat down next to her and gently touched her shoulder. “Okay. Can you tell me what happened?”

Donna shrugged and tried to stop from sobbing. “You spent the whole day and night out, right before Valentine’s day. I just…I know that being with me isn’t exciting or fun.”

You took a deep breath, regretting not being honest with her. "I was with the Duke, trying to find a gift for you. It was pointless so I tried to cook all night and well…nothing was very edible. I’m sorry, I got too caught up in making this perfect that I didn't pay attention to you.” You said, pouting softly and resting your chin on her shoulder. “I’m really sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Donna slowly removed the cover, wiping her tears. “I’m sorry too.”

You gave her a comprehensive smile. “It’s okay. I still don't have a gift though.”

She chuckled. “We can make something together.”

You nodded. “That sounds perfect. Just not in the kitchen, I threw a lot of products there to hide the smell.”

She looked at you wide eyed trying to fight a smile. “What on earth did you do?”

You laughed and shook your head. “Trust me, you don't wanna know.”

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

requests are open: my masterlist

#resident evil village #re8 #donna beneviento #resident evil #donna beneviento x reader #lady beneviento #re8 donna #resident evil donna beneviento x reader #resident evil donna #lady beneviento x reader #lady angie #resident evil 8 #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fandom #re8 fanfiction #re8 fic #resident evil fluff #pure fluff

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felixsramen · 2 years ago

Text

Mastermind

This is for someone who created a prompt. So here you go I hope I did your idea justice @thatonenoona

Warnings: mxm, anal play bc it's members x members, Chan has a dark blue dildo that Minho fucks Jisung with, masturbation, degradation, praise, Chans a switch, Minhos a dom, Jisung is a sub, Felix is also a sub, throat fucking with a dildo, brief mention of Jisung with a butt plug, jealous Chan, idk what else I'm missing bc it's currently 5 in the morning so if I'm missing anything else please let me know

Why was Chan sitting in the studio late at night again? Oh right comeback. The comeback that was going to happen in less than a month. The comeback that had Chan stressed out beyond relief. The comeback that Chan was struggling to finish the songs on. He couldn't help but sigh leaning back into his chair. The bright light from the computer screen was starting to annoy him. He stretches hearing pops throughout his whole body. He looked back down at the words in front of him. They were starting to taunt him.

"Chan?" He hears spinning around in the chair. He was met with his member he had completely forgotten that was there.

"Hmm?" He says to the second oldest member. Minho just looks at him slight concern on his face.

"I think we should head home now." He says to his older member. Chan shakes his head and Minho sighs. "Don't stress yourself too much. It won't be good for the comeback if you aren't taking care of yourself." Minho says sitting on the couch that him and the other 3racha members had decided to go in on.

"I'm trying not to but I need to finish this song. After this it'll just be 2 more songs then we're ready." Chan says to Minho who sighs at him.

"I need to get home before the boys try burning the house down again." Minho says standing up. He stretches out and sighs as the tension leaves his body with each crack. He grabs his jacket as he walks to the door.

"Are you sure you want to be cooped up in here all night? Even to finish that song?" Minho asks his older member and Chan shrugs.

"I'm willing to do anything for this band." Chan says and he meant that. Minho sighs but nods as he opens the door to the empty hallway.

"Hurry up and finish that okay? Come back to the dorm when you're done and don't spend too much time here. Me and the boys worry about you." Minho says seriously and Chan can't help but feel a little guilty about that.

Chan nods. "I will. I promise." Minho nods stepping into the dark hallway closing the door leaving Chan to his own thoughts.

Chan turns back to the computer. "Fucking hell." He says sighing at the notebook full of lyrics. He scribbles out it and rips the paper out in front of him. He crumbles it into a ball and throws it into the trash can that was full of other ideas Chan thought was terrible.

He picks the pencil back up. He once again looks at the computer screen. After a few minutes of thinking and nothing coming to mind Chan hears a ding. He grabs his phone but realizes it wasn't from his.

He looks to the couch Minho was just previously sitting on and sees his phone that he had left. He rolls the chair over there and picks it up. He wonders if Minho had noticed yet that he left it.

He sees it's a notification from Jisung but doesn't care enough to read it instead putting it on the desk beside his.

Chan goes back to the computer and then once again here's a ding. Minhos phone lights up with another notification. Chans eyes glance and sees it's Jisung once again. Again he doesn't read it.

Chan goes back to the notepad again and after almost an hour has lyrics that aren't terrible reading or ones he'd cringe at.

This time it's Chans phone that lights up with a ding. A text from Changbin. Chan unlocks the phone reading the text that had been sent.

"Hey it's Minho. Pretty sure I left my phone there. When you come home can you bring it? Me and Changbin ended up getting home before the boys and are picking up takeout. Want anything?" It reads and Chan picks the phone up sending a quick reply.

"Yeah of course. Just the usual is fine." He says and it's returned with a thumbs up emoji.

He sets his phone back down but Minho has another notification pop up on his phone from Jisung. He worried and was slightly curious as to why Jisung was blowing his phone up.

He picked the phone up not being able to see what the messages said from Jisung. Luckily Minho had shared his password with Chan before when Chan had forgotten his phone at home while out asking if he could borrow his phone to text Changbin about the new album. He unlocks his phone but doesn't get to Jisungs messages before a video is playing.

"Look at this. My pretty little slut." The camera shows a video of Jisung on his knees. Minhos hand had him looking at the camera.

A whine can be heard and a chuckle Chan assumes in from Minho. The camera falls on his freckled Australian bandmate. "My other pretty little slut." Minho says hand caressing Felixs face.

"Please." Can be heard from Felix as Chan watches his adams apple bob. "What do you want Lixie?" Minho asks him and he whines again.

Minho traces Felixs lips with his thumb and Chan can't help but watch. It was almost hypnotizing. "Sungie." Felix says and Minho pulls away from him.

"Want to use Jisungie?" Minho says teasing the boy but Felix just nods eagerly.

"What about you "Sungie"? Minho asks mocking Felixs words. The camera goes to Jisung who gulps down.

"Please." He says and it's desperate.

Minho laughs once again. "Go ahead let Lixie use you." He says and before Minho can say anything else Jisung and Felix are all over each other.

"Look at my pretty sluts." Minho says as Jisung and Felix make out but it's more teeth clashing than anything yet it seems like Chan was now sporting a boner watching his two team members make out.

Felix and Jisung pull away from each other a string of Saliva connecting them.

Jisung goes to Felixs neck kissing it as Felixs hands make their way to Jisungs sweatpants. Jisung lifts his lips as Felix tugs them down along with his boxers.

"My eager little sluts." Minho says as Felix pushes Jisung onto his back softly and straddles him. Felix pulls his own shirt off throwing it on the floor. Chan couldn't help but realize it was the dance practice room. Felix grabs Jisungs own shirt tugging on it as Jisung brings his hands up so Felix can take it off of him.

Was Jisung always that toned? Had he always looked so breakable? Chan couldn't help but wonder as he watched Felixs hands rub over his chest.

"So pretty." Felix mumbles and Jisung lets out a whine at Felixs compliment.

Felix kisses his lips and Chan feels the tightness in his pants as he watches his members makeout once again. He watches as Felix palms Jisung. Jisungs whimpers can clearly be heard through the phone.

Jisungs hands go to Felixs shirt trying to lift it up too. Felix pulls away so Jisung can lift it above his head.

Felix was just as gorgeous as Jisung. Was that wrong for Chan to admit? He couldn't really help it though as he watches Felix and Jisung go back to making out.

"Fucking gorgeous." Chan hears Minho say and he can't help but be extremely turned on watching them.

"How about you suck Sungie off?" Chan hears Minho says and he thinks he's really losing it.

Felix pulls away leaving a string of saliva between them.

Jisung already looks fucked out as Felixs hand eagerly make it to his boxers and pulls them off of his body. Felix brings his hands up to Jisungs cock and pumps it a few times as Jisung whimpers at the feeling.

"Such a pretty cock." Felix says going to Jisungs neck kissing it and Chan realizes he really needs to get these sweatpants off before his cock suffocates inside his boxers.

Chans with one hand pulls his sweatpants down along with his boxers. He can't help but sigh at the feeling of his cock now free from his boxers that was suffocating his cock.

Chan can't help but bring a hand to his own cock as he hears Jisungs whimpers. He begins a rhythm of his own mirroring the way Felixs hand stroked Jisung.

"Fuck." Chan says watching his other hand still holding the phone. He hasn't had any time for the past 2 months now to pleasure himself, too busy wrapped in his work for the new album.

Felix kisses down Jisungs body making his way down to Jisungs cock. Felix presses a kiss to the head and Chan can see the way Jisung shivers as he lets out a moan.

Felix licks up his cock and Jisung moans again. "Don't tease Sungie. Unless you want me to do the same to you later." Minho says and Chan sees Felix tense for a second. Chan wondered if Minho was harsh with his teasing because next thing he knows Felix is going down on Jisung.

"Fuck." Jisung says hand going to Felixs hair. Jisung let out probably the prettiest moans Chan had ever heard.

Chans hand was now coated with his precum and Chan used it as lube making the glide easier. Chan was letting out his own moans now along with Jisung. His own hand mimicked the way Felixs head bobbed on Jisungs cock.

Though Jisungs hand was in Felixs hair he wasn't controlling Felixs pace instead letting Felix choose how own pace. That didn't stop Jisung though from digging his fingers into Felixs hair.

"Please! I'm close!" Jisung whimpered out to Felix but instead of slowing down Felix speeds up his movements.

Jisung whines and moans had gotten louder and if Chan was in the right mind he would've wondered how no one had heard the desperate man. Yet Chan couldn't care less right now as his own release was close.

Chans own moans had started matching Jisungs and he was close. He couldn't help but watch as Jisung finally pushes Felixs head down onto his cock practically choking him. He stills inside Felixs mouth with a really loud moan.

"Fuck!" Chan says rather loudly cumming on his hand. As Chans orgasm subsides his eyes go back to the phone watching as Felix pulls off Jisung. His eyes are teary and Felix has his own saliva and a mixture of Jisungs cum hanging from the side of his lips.

Felix looks completely fucked out. "God Lixie. You almost made me cum." Chan hears Minho say.

"Let me reward you." Minho says going up to Felix wiping the saliva and cum from his lips. He still doesn't show his face behind the camera.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Minho says and Felix nods.

Jisung whines. "I'll reward you too. I'll reward both my pretty sluts." Minho says and with that the video cuts off.

Chan looks at his own hand as he shuts Minhos phone off and sets it on the desk. Chan was now embarrassed at what he had done as he grabs the tissues nearby and wipes his hand. He cleans himself off and pulls his boxers and pants back up.

Luck was on Chans side though because he had gotten the producing room sound proofed a month ago after the boys complained about hearing everything from down the hall. He was sure if he hadn't the people who were working late would've heard him.

Suddenly a ring brings him out of his trance. It was Chans phone and it was coming from Changbin. He picked it up and heard Minhos voice over the phone. "Are you on your way home yet?" Minho asks Chan and he's embarrassed to talk to the boy after just jerking off to him, Felix, and Jisung.

"About to." Chan says trying to sound normal.

"Good." Minho says sounding slightly suspicious of the boy.

"Call me when you get here." Minho says and Chan lets out a hum letting him know he heard him. Chan quickly hangs up and looks at his keyboard.

Minho definitely knew something was up now Chan couldn't help but think.

Chan finishes cleaning up his desk and throwing the cum filled tissues in the trash. He quickly saved the work he was doing. Grabbing his bag, his phone, and Minhos phone. Luckily it didn't take long for Chan to get home.

He quickly gave Minho his phone and walked off straight to his room. Minho couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his older member but he shrugged it off as he was probably tired.

It has almost been 2 weeks since that night. Chan tried his best to avoid the 3 boys he had jerked off too. He was embarrassed and anytime one of them tried to talk to him he'd tell them he had to get to the studio grabbing his bag.

Chan though currently was laying on his bed staring at the ceiling. He couldn't stop thinking about that night. Chan didn't know how to feel about the boys after watching such an intimate moment between them.

Chan loved all his members. They were all hand picked by him and he loved them each. Yet he was starting to see those 3 in a different way from before.

Chan couldn't help but wonder if they were together. Chan started noticing how Jisung would always be very affectionate to Minho and Felix. Felix was clingy but he was especially clingy to Minho and Jisung.

It didn't make Chan feel better though that he had started not just avoiding them out of embarrassment. He had also started avoiding them out of what Chan came to know for the last 2 weeks was Jealousy.

Was it jealousy from the boys being so intimate? Was it because Chan knew that'd he never have something like that? Chan had no idea but all he knew was he hated this feeling.

Chan hears a knock on the door bringing him out of his thoughts. "Come in." Chan says sighing as the door opens. He didn't bother looking up to see which member it was.

Suddenly the bed dips beside him. Chan still doesn't look at who it is. "Chan?" He hears his Australian mate say.

Chan doesn't look at him too embarrassed to even glance at him. "Chan? Please talk to me. Did I do something wrong?" Felix says a crack in his voice followed by a sob.

Chan quickly sits up and brings Felix into his arms. Had Chan been so caught up in being embarrassed and jealous he couldn't see the pain he was causing by ignoring him.

"Hey it's okay." Chan says as Felix sobs into his arms. Chan rubs Felixs back trying to soothe him.

"You did nothing wrong. I've just been caught up in work and my thoughts." Chan says hoping that'd be a good excuse considering he wasn't fully lying.

Felix cries into Chan and Chan feels terrible. Felixs sobs eventually turn into soft hiccups as tears still ran down his faces but not as heavy. Chan continues rubbing his back.

"Do you regret bringing me in the group?" Felix asks him. Chan felt guilty that he made Felix feel like that.

"Not at all. Not one bit. I don't ever regret bringing you in the group. You're amazing and make Stray Kids so much better. There's no one like you Lix." Chan says hoping those words would help him feel better. Instead Felix cries harder and that breaks Chans heart.

"Please don't cry. I can't stand seeing you cry." Chan says and before Chan knows whats happening Felix presses a kiss to Chans lips through his tears.

Felix pulls away and Chan looks at him in surprise. Felix looks as if his heart is broken at Chans expression and at how he didn't kiss him back. Yet Chan just was completely shocked that one of the three men he's been obsessing over for the past 2 weeks just kissed him.

"I fucked it up didn't I?" Felix says trying to get from Chans bed as the tears didn't stop.

Chan quickly grabs his arm pulling him back onto the bed and Chan smashes his lips against Felixs. Chan can feel Felixs tears on his own face from Felix but he doesn't care right now. Especially not when the man he's wanted for 2 weeks or probably longer seemed to feel the same way.

Chan pulls away and smiles at Felix. He brings a hand to Felixs face and wipes the tears from it.

"Don't cry please." Chan says once again but whispering this time and Felix just sniffles at his response.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" Felix asks once again and Chan looks away even though he had already answered that question. "Please Chan. I want the truth." Felix asks him and Chan looks at the ground.

Chan knew it was unavoidable but he also didn't think he should tell his band member about how he felt.

Chan sighed knowing he should tell the Australian before he started crying again. He looks up at Felix and he can't help feel guilty that he has a question to ask before he answers that. "Are you, Jisung, and Minho in a relationship?" Chan asks him saying what was on his mind.

Felixs eyes widen and he looks taken aback at Chans question. "What?" Felix asks him and Chan sighs putting a hand over his face.

"Are you 3 together?" Chan asks once again. Felix is still in mild shock and Chan feels so bad about having asked that but curiosity had gotten the better of him.

Felixs opened mouth and wide eyes turn guilty. "Yes we are." Felix says answering his question and Chan sighs nodding.

"I told them we should tell you. You're our leader for gods sakes but Jisung and Minho said that they didn't want you to look at them different. I respected their decisions and agreed but I wanted to tell you." Felix says as Chans eyes are back on the ground.

Felix is worried about his reaction. "You didn't need to tell me. That wasn't my place to ask." Chan says and Felix feels the tears well back up.

"Chan?" Felix says again and Chan doesn't look up. "I don't want you to be upset with us." Felix says reaching out for Chan but he's hesitant at that.

Chan nods as his eyes fall on the freckled boy. "I'm not upset, not even a little bit. I'm not upset at any of you. I just did something embarrassing so that's why I have been avoiding you for the last few weeks." Chan says sighing and taking Felixs hand that he had reached out. It calmed Chans racing heart and he sighed now that he felt every thought in his head wasn't trying to burst through.

Felix looks at him confused what he could've done that was so embarrassing that he ignored the boys.

Chan sighs seeing his face and feels his throat start to close from nerves. Yet Chan didn't want to confuse the boy even more so he made his mind up that he was going to tell Felix even if it meant he was embarrassed.

"Remember when Minho came to the studio about 2 weeks ago and left his phone?" Chan says and Felix nods still confused.

"Jisung was blowing his phone up and I knew Minhos password and I didn't know if it was an emergency or not from how many times it went off." Chan says stopping and Felix nods letting him know he could continue with a squeeze of his hand.

"I unlocked it. I knew I shouldn't have and when I did there was a video that started playing..." Chan says trailing off and looking at Felix who is wide eyed having a feeling he knew what video was playing.

"It was you and Jisung and I heard Minhos voice and I really wanted to turn it off but I couldn't seem to and before I know it..." Chan says mumbling the last part and Felix raises an eyebrow not hearing what he had said.

Chan sighs and lets go of Felixs hand bringing both hands to his face. "I jerked off to it and I couldn't face you guys." Chan says and he doesn't move his hand from his face not wanting to see Felixs reaction.

There's not a reply to what he says and Chan wonders if he just made the boy disgusted. Suddenly he feels hands moving his hands from his face. Felix doesn't look disgusted though.

Instead Felix presses his lips back onto Chan who is surprised. Chan kisses back and Felix makes the kiss deeper. Felix pulls away and Chan can't help but wonder what God had handcrafted this man.

"Fuck you're so hot." Felix says and Chan thinks he might lose it at Felixs words.

He hears a knock on the door but it's opened and there is Minho and Jisung. "Already playing without us Felix?" Minho says and Chan looks at the younger boy in front of him and he can't help but raise an eyebrow.

"We heard everything from out here. You're not exactly quiet and everyone else already left to go play Laser Tag, they'll be gone for a few hours." Minho says and Chan is slightly nervous at hearing that. Now the 3 boys knew he had jerked off to them all.

"Our Lixie here was so upset you know? He didn't like you ignoring us." Minho says and Jisung looks nervous beside Minho.

Minho walks closer to the bed and Jisung follows him like a lost puppy. Minho brings a hand to Chans face. "Our Lixie wanted you so bad. Wanted you from the start, begging for us to tell you. We didn't want to scare you at the fact we wanted you too but from the looks of it you wanted us just as badly right?" Minho says bringing his face closer to Chans.

Minho wears a cocky smirk on his face and it excites Chan. "Right?" Minho says once again and this time Chan nods. Minho must like that answer because the next second his mouth is on Chans.

His kiss is different from Felixs whose was soft and gentle and he took his time while Minho was harsher even though Minho had also taken his time. Minho doesn't let Chan pull away instead pushing his tongue in-between his lips. Minhos tongue immediately goes to the roof of Chans mouth licking a long stripe across it. Chan wants to moan but he can't instead bringing his hands to Minhos.

Minho sighs as Chan digs his hands into his hips now seeming desperate. Minho continues licking inside his mouth until he knows Chan needs air. Minhos tongue leaves Chans mouth but he bites Chans lip and Chan whines as he releases it.

Chan is breathing heavy and he looks fucked out already. His hands dont leave from digging into Minhos hips and Minho doesn't mind.

Minho watches as Chan whines for another kiss and he can't help but smirk again. "Don't be too greedy. Jisung hasn't even had a taste yet." Minho says and Chan lets go of him looking behind him at the nervous boy.

Minho looks at Jisung who looks at his fingers as if they were more interesting. "Sungie?" Minho says and Jisung looks up and makes eye contact with Chan as Minho moves from in-between Chans legs.

Jisung goes up to Chan and brings a hand to his face and he seems unsure of what he's doing. Chan can't help but feel like he doesn't want to be any part of this. "Ji you don't have to do anything you don't want. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Chan says and Jisung looks surprised at that but he shakes his head.

"No. I want this. I want you so much. I just never know how to initiate these things." Jisung says and Chan lets out a relieved sigh.

"Would you like me to take the lead then?" Chan says.

"Look at that Chans being so considerate." Minho says teasing but Chan doesn't care focusing on the rapper in front of him.

Jisung nods his head and Chan smiles at him. He moves Jisungs hand from his face and brings his own hand to Jisungs face. Chan brings his face to Jisungs placing a single kiss on his lips. Jisung lets out a whine and he sighs.

Chan kisses him again but he doesn't pull away this time. He sighs and Jisung stumbles like he's about to fall but Chan takes him into his lap. Chan pushes his tongue into Jisungs mouth trying to copy what Minho did mere minutes ago and Jisung lets out a whimper.

It takes Jisung even less time than it did for Chan to need breath maybe because Jisung was much more needy. Chan could tell Jisung was still unsure but he brings a hand to his back and Jisung relaxes more into the kiss.

Chan pulls away and Jisung looks even more fucked out than Chan was. "That was so hot." Felix says and Chan looks at the boy.

"Fucking hell. Don't look at him like that." Minho says and Chan looks at Minho confused.

"Like hes a fucking piece of meat. If you keep looking at him like that I'm going to lose it and fuck you dumb." Minho says and Chan can't help but groan at Minhos dirty words.

"Fuck Chan. I'm definitely going to have to fuck that pretty ass of yours now." Minho says bringing a hand to Chans face outlining his jaw.

Chan whimpers at his words and the feeling of his nails against his face. Jisung whines and Chan and Minho look at him.

"After we take care of the precious little sluts." Minho says and he takes Jisung off of him and pushes him into the bed. Jisung whimpers at the feeling of being manhandled.

Chans eyes meet Felix's desperate ones. "Come here Lixie." Chan says and Felix gets up coming to him. Chan brings him down into his lap and Felix kisses him desperately.

Felix pulls away and starts kissing Chans neck and Chan sighs hands going to Felixs hips. "Fuck pretty boy." Chan says letting him leave a few more kisses before Chan is taking his lips again.

Chan pushes Felix onto his back and climbs on him not breaking the kiss. Felixs hand goes to Chans shirt tugging it for him to pull up and over his head.

Chan breaks the kiss doing exactly what he wants and throws it somewhere.

Chans hands go to Felixs shirt now and Felix lifts his hands so Chan take it off of him and Chan stares at it for a few seconds appreciating his body. It looked good on camera but seeing it in person was a whole different thing.

Chan brings his lips down to Felixs body kissing wherever he can. Felix brings his hand into Chans hair and he sighs. Chan once again goes to Felixs lips capturing him in another kiss.

Chans hands find place on Felixs hips. He's brought out of his focus on Felix when he hears a moan from beside and sees Minho pumping Jisungs cock. Jisung seems to be long gone as he moans. Minho looks at Chan and with his other hand brings Chan in for a kiss as they makeout with Minho pumping Jisungs cock.

Minho pulls away. "You got any lube Channie?" Minho says and the nickname he uses sends chills throughout Chans body.

"Yeah. Second drawer." Chan says and Minho stops pumping Jisungs cock to get up and grab the lube. Minho goes through the drawer and pulls something out.

"What's this Channie?" Minho says smirking holding up a dark blue dildo that was around 10 inches.

"Use this a lot?" Minho says as he grabs the lube also out from the drawer.

"Yes sir." Chan says and Minho raises an eyebrow smirking.

"Sir? How cute is our precious little Channie." Minho says walking to the bed.

Minho climbs back onto Jisung but grabs Chans head. "Do me a favor Channie. Be a good little slut and suck on this for me. Get it all drenched in your spit so I can use it to fuck Sungie." Minho says and Chan thinks Minho is going to make him do it himself. "Say ahh." Minho says and Chan lets his mouth fall open.

Minho pushes the dildo harshly into Chans mouth hitting the back of his throat causing him to gag. "Fuck Channie. Can't take this cock in your mouth? How are you going to be able to satisfy someone without knowing how to take cock." Minho says pushing it back up and down into his mouth.

Minho forces Chan to choke on it for a little longer until he pulls it out of his mouth satisfied with it. A string of spit connects Chans lip and the dildo. His eyes are brimming with tears from choking on it and Minho can't help but think Chan is so pretty like this all fucked out for him.

Chan watches as Minho spreads Jisungs legs open and it reveals a pink jeweled butt plug. "See this Channie. Sungie knew he was going to get fucked." Minho says and Chans eye can't help but stare as Minho pulls it out of him and Jisung whines at the feeling of being empty as he clenches around nothing.

"Don't worry Sungie. Going to fuck you dumb on this pretty dildo." Minho says as he brings the dildo to Jisungs ass and slowly slides it in. Jisung moans as each inch enters him until he can't take anymore.

"Fuck- Min- Please! I don't think I can take it-" Jisung pleads with the man yet Minho does nothing but watches with a smirk.

"Of course you can Sungie. My precious little baby can take anything I give him can't he?" Minho coos at the boy and Jisung grabs for anything to help ground him as Minho starts fucking Jisung with the dildo. Jisungs hand finds Felixs who squeezes his hand in reassurance as Jisung lets out moans.

"Lixie ask Sungie if he's enjoying." Minho says to the boy under Chan. He sees Felixs adams apple bob up and down.

"Are you enjoying it Sungie?" Felix asks as the boy loses his mind.

"Lix 's good- 's so good-" Jisung babbles absentmindedly.

Chan can't help but watch Jisung whine and moan as he's fucked open with his dildo. Felixs whine is what brings Chan back to the boy under him.

"Please Channie. Fuck me. I promise I'm a good boy." Felix says to the boy and Chan thinks he just lost it as he pulls Felixs pants and boxers down throwing it wherever not caring.

Chan grabs the lube Minho had between them and places some on his fingers. "It's going to be cold." Chan says warning Felix who squeezes Jisungs hand as he presses into Felixs tight ass with two fingers.

"Fuck!" Felix says out as Chan slowly pumps them inside his ass. Chan watches as Felixs face contorts from pain into pleasure as Chan builds a pace.

"So tight around my fingers Lixie." Chan says and that causes Felixs eyes to roll back at his dirty words along with being fingered.

Chan pushes another finger into Felix as his hand that isn't intertwined with Jisungs goes to Chans trying to ground himself even more because Jisungs hand wasn't working anymore as Jisung was just letting his hand loose now.

"My prince is taking my fingers so well." Chan says to the boy as he fucks his fingers faster into Felix.

Felix lets out a really loud moan and Chan assumes he's just his prostate so he does it again this time curling his fingers there and Felix gasps.

"Going to cum- Channie fuck- please- I-" Felix says brainlessly just worried about being so close to release.

Chan keeps abusing that spot. "Go ahead Lixie cum whenever you want." Chan says and with Chans permission Felix does exactly that cum spurting from his cock with an even louder moan.

Chan continues abusing that spot until Felix comes down from his high and Chan can tell he's exhausted. Felix is trying his best to catch his breath as Chan pulls his fingers out his ass.

Chan looks to the side seeing Jisung is just like Felix as Minho removes the dildo from his ass. Minho brings his hand down to the cum that is on Jisung and brings it to Felixs lips who licks around his fingers until they're clean and grabs some of Felixs cum bringing it to Jisung who just as eagerly licks it.

Minho once again brings a hand to Jisungs cum but this time he mixes it wish Felixs and brings it up to Chan. Chan opens his mouth as Minho lets him suck the bitter cum off his fingers before removing them

"I think we tired them out Channie. Think I can fuck you now?" Minho asks and Chan nods as Minho moves Jisung and Felix out of the way as they cuddle up next to each other.

Minho immediately attaches his lips to Chans and he makes his way to Chans pants so he can take them off along with his boxers. Minho makes quick work of his own.

"Look at you. So painfully hard right now. Let me take care of you." Minho says and Chan whines at Minhos sickenly sweet words.

Minho grabs the lube and spreads some onto his hand though Chan grabs his hand before he can push inside him.

Minho looks at him concerned and Chan looks sad. "I've never done this before. I've done it with my dildo but never someone else." Chan says and Minho nods at his words.

"It's okay. I'll be gentle." Minho says and Chan nods as Minho presses a kiss to his lips. Minho pushes inside him while he tries to distract him with the kiss.

Chans face contorts into pain and Minho knows how painful it can be at first. Minho pulls away moving Chans hair out his face. "It'll stop hurting soon I promise." He says kissing the boys lips.

It doesn't take long before what Minho said was true and it had turned pleasureful. Minho watched as Chan let out gorgeous moans one after another and he couldn't help but push another finger in.

Minho goes back to kissing Chan and Chan kisses him back as he's fucked open. It was strange at first having someone else fingering him but now he was a moaning mess as Minho had fucked his ass open.

"I think that's enough." Minho says pulling out and Chan whines at the loss of pleasure.

"Give me a second. Do you have any condoms?" Minho asks the boy who nods and points at the open drawer. Minho quickly grabs a condom tearing it open with his teeth and sliding it on.

Minho grabs Chans hips lining himself up and slowly pushes in him inch by inch. Chan felt like he was tearing in half. Minho of course wasn't as long as the dildo but he was very girthy along with being longer than average.

"Fuck Channie you're still so tight? Do you not fuck yourself enough?" Minho asks and Chan just lets out a moan in response.

Minho continues cursing as he drives himself into Chan over and over. Chan can't help but reach out for the man overwhelmed. Minho intertwines their hands and places them next to Chans head as he continues fucking into him.

Minho does a particularly hard thrust and it has Chans eyes roll back. "Fuck you're taking me so well Channie." Minho says praising him.

Minho thrusts hard again and it has Chan arching off the bed as his eyes roll back again and he wonders if he hit Chans prostate by the way he babbles incoherently.

Minho hits that spot over and over building Chan to his orgasm and Minho is getting there too. Minho continues thrusting into Chan and doesn't stop not even when he feels like he's teetering on the edge.

Without warning though Chan cums all over himself and Minho and he doesn't mind as he fucks him through his orgasm and it doesn't take long for Minho to share the same fate. He stills inside Chan as his own orgasm washes over him.

Minho stays like that for a minute or so before he realizes how sticky he is with sweat and cum. Minho pulls out earning a whimper from Chan but he kisses his lips hoping it silences it.

"Out of it Channie?" Minho asks the man who has no reply and he has his answer at that.

"Let me go run some water for a bath." He says kissing each of the boys before getting up and heading to the bath tub.

Chan can't think at the moment and has no idea what he said but feels arms pulling him in. He looks up and sees Jisung and Felix smiling down at him as Felix runs a hand through his hair. Chan sighs at the warmth of the two boys.

He sees Minho come back in. "Are you two okay for now if I get a bath with Channie first?" Minho says and both boys nod. With that Minho picks Chan up taking him to the tub.

Minho sits him in the tub and Chan feels his muscles immediately relax in the warm water. "Let me go get clothes okay?" Minho says and Chan nods tiredly now that his body was relaxing and he can hear what he said.

Minho leaves and it doesn't take long before he's back with clothes and sets them on the counter. Minho gets into the tub with Chan and it's cramped but Minho couldn't care right now.

Chan wonders what happens from here on out. Does he becomes part of the already trio? Or was this spur of the moment?

Minho must sense he's not here before he's bringing a hand to his face. "What are you thinking about?" He asks and Chan sighs.

"What do we do now?" Chan asks slightly terrified of what his response was and Minho runs a soothing hand down his back.

"What do you want?" Minho asks him back and Chan wasn't really thinking about what he wanted.

"What I want?" Chan says back and Minho hums in agreement.

"I want you. All 3 of you." Chan says back and Minho smiles at him.

"Good. We want you too but I do want you to know this is an open relationship before you decide anything." Minho says making sure he knows.

Chan nods. "I don't care as long as I have you 3." Chan says back meaning what he had said and Minho smiles once again. He grabs the soap and loofah washing him off.

Minho helps him out the tub and quickly drys him off helping him into his clothes and quickly putting his on.

He brings him back into the room. "Here sit in the game chair while I go put Sungie and Lix in the bathroom. I'll come back and change the sheets after." Minho says as he goes back into the bathroom running more water and coming back for both boys before disappearing into the bathroom.

Chan sighed. He looked at his desk and sees an open notebook and a pen nearby. He picks both up carefully with the way his body was sore. He looks at all the lyrics he's been struggling on and suddenly he's hit with inspiration.

He starts writing away with lyrics and he doesn't notice Minho come back in and Minho watches as he scribbles lyrics into his notebook not bothering him. Minho quickly took his sheets the laundry room and came back with new bed covers and blankets.

He goes back into the bathroom as Chan continues writing. Eventually he comes back with Jisung and Felix and places them on the bed. Minho walks up to him and looks over his shoulder reading the lyrics and he's surprised by how good they are knowing Chan has been struggling with it this whole time.

Chan finally closes the notebook and sets it on the desk. He flinches when he puts it down trying not to put too much on his body. "Come here." Minho says picking up the older boy.

"You need to get some sleep. That was a lot on your body." He says putting him next to Jisung who is half asleep.

Minho slides in behind him wrapping his arms around him. "I'm glad you saw that video. I was hoping you'd go through my phone." Minho says and he feels Chan flip in his arms and his eyebrows are raised.

"You did that on purpose?" Chan says and Minho smiles.

"Maybe." Minho says and Chan rolls his eyes playfully hitting him.

"Asshole. Why couldn't you just talk to me like a normal person?" Chan says and Minho shrugs.

"Because you know how I am." Minho says and Chan buries his head into Minhos shirt.

"Fuck you." Chan says and Minho laughs.

"You just did." He says and Chan gets up now moving in-between at Minhos words.

"Aww baby don't be like that." Minho says pretending to pout.

"Whatever Minho." Chan says his ears turning red as Felix cuddles into his chest.

"Our precious Channie." Felix mumbles and Chan brings a hand to his back rubbing circles in it.

He feels arms wrap behind him as Jisung cuddles into his back. "Love you Channie." Jisung says half asleep.

Chans heart melted at that. "Love you guys too." Chan says back and before Chan knows it his eyes are getting heavy. Sleep eventually takes over and Chan closes his eyes around his new 3 lovers.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #poly skz #skz fluff #stray kids fluff

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