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fic--writer · 1 day ago

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The archmage must get married

Rolan x fem!Tav, Lia, Cal.

1780 words. Humor, romance, SFW, Post-canon

Rolan and Tav are secretly in love with each other, but neither of them dares to make the first move. However, the circumstances are changing.

"Rolan! You have to get married!" — Lia blurted this out right at breakfast.

Rolan froze with his glass in hand, then sharply turned to his sister, staring intently at her tired, yet extremely serious face.

"I have to... what?" — he asked, not believing his ears.

"Get married! You're an archmage now. You have status, and you're in the public eye. Damn journalists found out you're single and wrote that ridiculous article, and..."

Rolan frowned and took a sip of wine.

"What article?" — he asked cautiously.

A laugh came from the other side of the table. His brother, Cal, quoted from memory:

"'The new Archmage has been named the sexiest bachelor of Baldur's Gate.'"

Rolan choked.

"Zurgan!" — he gasped, coughing. "Maybe you both could finally start reading something more respectable than tabloid trash? Just think about it! You live in a tower with one of the rarest libraries, have access to any books, and instead…"

Lia interrupted his tirade, gesturing irritably with her hands: "It's not about that! The problem is your new admirers, who are becoming more and more persistent every day! Hundreds of letters, all smelling of perfume, and often cheap ones at that... I have to manually sift through the important correspondence, and yesterday I spent an entire hour explaining to one pushy woman that you don’t see visitors without an appointment!”

She shook her head and, crossing her arms over her chest, stared at him intently:

“Rolan, you're a grown man. You have a huge tower, a position, work... It’s really time for you to settle down."

Rolan sighed in resignation:

"Fine, I'll think about it, but only if it makes you shut up."

"Think about it? As if we don’t all know who 'exactly' will be your sweet little wife," - Cal chimed in, and he and Lia both started giggling.

"What?!"

"Oh, come on," - Cal smirked. - "You're too obvious. Even if you think you're hiding it well."

"What. Do. You. Mean?" - Rolan narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping dangerously low, and why did these troglodytes always manage to get under his skin...

"What do I mean?" — Cal chuckled, making faces and mimicking his brother. — "Tav, shall I pour you some wine? Tav, want to read together? Tav, will you have dinner with us? Tav..."

"Hush you!" — Rolan barked, feeling the heat rush to his face. — "She’s my friend, not my damn girlfriend!"

Cal just smirked and shook his head.

Of course, Rolan felt a whole spectrum of emotions toward Tav. How could he not? She saved his red hide from certain death, she saved his family, she helped him become an archmage, and even saved this damned world.

And she was damned beautiful. But did he have the right to want more? To demand her — all of her, without reservation?

"Well, it's your call, but decide soon before your fans start storming the tower or slipping love potions into your food."

Lia cast a glance at his plate.

"By the way... where did that pastry come from?"

Rolan froze. Then, slowly, he lowered his gaze to the dessert in his hands. The next second, he violently shoved it aside, desperately spitting out the remains.

Tav stepped into the Archmage's tower and found Lia, deeply focused as she sorted through some papers. Over the past few months, Rolan’s sister had essentially become his personal secretary, keeping order in the endless stream of work.

Tav’s attention was drawn to a tall stack of letters, many of them pink.

She frowned, grabbed one of the letters, and flipped it over in her hands. On the envelope, oh gods, there were... little hearts?! And in the recipient field, none other than Archmage Rolan was listed.

"What... is this?" — Tav asked, concern evident in her voice as she shook the letter in her hand.

"Oh, these?" Lia replied, not looking up. "Love letters. From women... and not just them. They all dream of being the companion of a man of status..."

"Oh? Ooo... Oh." — Tav could barely manage to squeeze out, her mind racing.

Almost with disgust, she shoved the letter back into the pile, her eyes darting nervously.

"Tav? Are you okay?"

"Me? Uh... yeah... no..." — she swallowed nervously. — "I think I’m a little... sick."

Lia narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Tav looked the same as always, no signs of illness. Shrugging, Lia sighed and returned to her work.

Tav, not saying another word, stretched out her hand. One quick incantation — and from her finger erupted a narrow pillar of flame, instantly turning the letters into a handful of ashes.

Lia swore, jumping back:

"What the hell are you doing!?"

"Oh, that was totally an accident! I don’t know..." — Tav desperately tried to put on an innocent face.

Lia raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp with suspicion.

"Really? You don’t know? One of the most powerful sorceresses in the city ‘accidentally’ casts a spell?" — She wasn’t buying this nonsense.

“When I’m sick, I… I’m not myself!” — Tav blurted out, taking a step back.

Lia opened her mouth to respond, but just then, the door slammed open, and a stranger burst into the room.

A young woman, dressed in tight clothing that emphasized her very noticeable curves, smiled as she entered:

"Hi! I want to become the Archmage’s apprentice... I want to learn magic from him."

Tav slowly shifted her gaze to Lia.

Lia slowly shifted her gaze to Tav.

Tav narrowed her eyes, giving the young woman a thorough once-over. Before Lia had a chance to respond, Tav stepped forward and calmly said:

"Really? Then show me the simplest spells you already know. Please."

"Show you? Oh. Well, I need to get in the right mindset..." — The stranger blinked in confusion, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

There’s no magic in her at all, Tav realized, and continued:

"You know what?" — she suggested with a tight smile. — "It would be best if you wrote a letter to the Archmage."

"Really?" — The girl brightened, her eyes sparkling with hope.

"Really," Tav confirmed, barely holding back a sly smirk. — "He will definitely respond."

Satisfied, the girl nodded, apologized, and quickly hurried off.

Lia watched the girl leave, then slowly turned to Tav, her mouth slightly open, clearly about to ask a million questions.

But as soon as their eyes met, all the words got stuck in her throat. Tav's gaze clearly said: "Not a word more."

Lia sighed heavily and returned to her papers. Another day in the Archmage's tower was shaping up to be exceptionally long.

When Rolan entered the reception room, the first thing that caught his eye was the blackened scorch mark on the table.

"Zurgan! This is a red oak table! Who the hell did this?!" — He froze, then his tail flicked irritably.

"It was Tav," — Lia said flatly, not even bothering to look up from her papers.

Tav, standing off to the side, nervously cleared her throat.

Rolan blinked, finally noticing her:

"Oh, Tav? Hey... How are you? I mean... why my table?" — He ran a hand over his face, exhaling heavily. — "Alright, never mind."

The Archmage's anger noticeably subsided, and taking advantage of the moment, Lia lazily added:

"Oh, and she just kicked one of your potential apprentices out the door..."

Rolan slowly turned his head toward Tav.

Tav greeted him with a flawless, innocent smile.

Lia smirked and flipped the page of her papers.

Tav’s cheeks instantly turned crimson, and she hissed at Lia:

"Can you be quiet for just one second?!"

But it was too late.

Rolan crossed his arms over his chest, staring at her intently.

"You did what?"

Tav straightened up, trying to look confident.

"The cat at the fish stall has more magic flowing through it than that girl," — she countered. — "I just made your job easier."

"But you didn’t even let me take a look, you didn’t even tell me! Why?!"

Tav opened her mouth... and immediately realized she had no coherent explanation. She began stammering, stumbling over her words, cursing herself for not being able to just fall straight into hell right now.

Rolan, not waiting for an answer, let out a heavy sigh, grabbed her by the wrist, and decisively dragged her toward his office.

The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Lia alone.

She smirked, gave a satisfied hum, and walked off.

“Finally”.

"What the hell is going on, Tav?!" — Rolan stormed into the office, his voice echoing through the room. — "First you scorch my table, then you make decisions for me! Has a worm eaten your brain?"

Tav, without taking her eyes off his face, replied, trying not to let her irritation show:

"I told you, there’s no magic in that girl. She just came to show off in front of you. You wouldn’t have taught her anyway, so why waste time?"

"Really?" — His voice turned mockingly amused. — "Then why didn’t you even let me take a look? Why didn’t you let me make the decision myself? Do you think I can’t do anything right?!"

"Do you really have to talk to me like that? Did I step on your tail or something?" — Tav took a defensive stance.

Rolan froze, staring at her face… and suddenly his smirk became almost devilish:

“Wait, what? Are you jealous?”

Tav quickly turned away, pretending that something interesting was happening outside the window, but her flushed cheeks gave it all away.

“Oh, I always knew there had to be some special reason for you to save me and my family so many times…” — he continued, stepping closer — “But I never could have imagined…”

Tav had no time to answer. Driven by something inexplicable, the Archmage scooped her up in his arms, sat her down on the table almost effortlessly, and placed himself between her legs.

Tav gasped, but made no protest. On the contrary, she grabbed his collar and pulled him closer...

Cal, as usual, entered the Archmage’s office without knocking:

"Rolan, what do you want for dinner? Oh! Sorry... uh... I didn't see anything, go ahead."

He took a few steps back and slammed the door shut with a resounding thud. A moment of silence, as if he wanted to forget what he had just seen, and Cal was already on his way to his sister:

"Lia! You won’t believe it! I think we can start preparations for the wedding!"

Lia simply raised an eyebrow:

"Relax, I started a month ago."

#bg3 fic #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan nation #rolan x tav #tav x rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 tiefling #tieflng #rolan baldur's gate 3 #rolan #bg3 tav #bg3 drabble #baldurs gate fanfiction #bg3 lia #bg3 cal

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psychotrenny · 1 year ago

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I love how much of the Western Media is insistent on comparing Hamas to the Vietnamese National Liberation Front

Like I kinda get where they're coming from but it's still so funny to all these commentators basically just going "huh these Guerillas that use subterranean tunnels are giving me real Viet Cong vibes"

#stella speaks #the articles I grabbed these from in order are #https://www.ft.com/content/913d366e-0ace-4463-a004-d293aa49c673 #https://mwi.westpoint.edu/underground-nightmare-hamas-tunnels-and-the-wicked-problem-facing-the-idf/#https://foreignpolicy.com/2023/11/01/gaza-hamas-israel-idf-tunnel-warfare-vietnam-viet-cong/#https://www.politico.eu/article/hamas-attack-might-be-israels-tet-offensive/#https://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-28430298 #https://canadiandimension.com/articles/view/hamas-campaign-recalls-tet-offensive-could-this-also-be-a-turning-point

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mythmash · 25 days ago

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LA Wildfire Resources

this is a collection of all of the information and resources i've found to help those affected by the los angeles count wildfires. this is not a completed list, and you are welcome to send me an ask with any additional links, fundraisers, information, or other resources that you know of and i will update this post accordingly. if there are any missing or incorrect links, please let me know. stay safe out there 💜

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Live Updates on the Southern California wildfires & Evacuation Orders

LA Scanner - Coverage of Pursuits, Crimes, Wildfires and More.

2025 Los Angeles Fires - Resources for Californians impacted by Los Angeles Fires.

LA Wildfire Resource Center - Resource navigator for finding emergency resources and support services.

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Mutual Aid Los Angeles & their Fire & Wind Storm Spreadsheet - An ongoing spreadsheet of resources such as shelter info, animal boarding info, addresses for distribution centers, volunteer opportunities, etc.

LAFD Emergency Funding Alert & Fire Zone Map - Donations to help support the Los Angeles Fire Department.

The Partnership for Inclusive Disaster Strategies - Lists of evacuation shelters and hotlines for those who are disabled and in impacted by the fires.

Los Angeles Regional Food Bank

Thread of mutual aid groups assisting through Los Angeles

CleanAirLA & MaskBloc LA - Mutual aid project to distribute free masks and respirators in the so-called Los Angeles area. They are currently taking donations for masks.

MaskBloc LA & their Mask Requests and Volunteer Interest - A form to fill out if you need masks or want to volunteer.

List of shelters, animal boarding, distribution hubs, and free items

Pacsun providng clothes and listing organizations to donate to

World Central Kitchen - Donate to support their efforts in Southern California to support first responders and families impacted by wildfires in the Los Angeles area.

Thread of organizations to donate to - Thread including links to disaster relief, firefighter aid, food banks, first responders, etc.

SoCal Wildfires: How You Can Help - Article including links and info for Californians. Links are also included in the Thread of organizations to donate to above.

Pete and Thomas Foundation supporting Pasadena Humane & LA Animal Care - How to support, injured wildlife hotline, and listed shelters for large and small animals.

Thread of GoFundMes to support people affected by the wildfires

What to keep in a grab & go bag - List of things to keep in a easily accessible bag in case of emergency evacuation.

Displaced Black Families GoFund Me Directory - Spreadsheet dedicated to black families devastated by the Altadena fires.

Advice from a survivor of the 2017 Thomas Fire on insurance, rebuilding, etc.

California Volunteers - Donate, organize, and volunteer for wildfire recovery here.

Baby2Baby Disaster Relief and Emergency Response Program - Donate to help distribute supplies to children impacted by the wildfires.

Guitar Center is replacing instruments lost as a result of the LA wildfires

Sunny Optometry is offering support to those in need of glasses, contact lenses, eye drops, face masks, and wi-fi

Stratia is offering a free place to work if you need a work space with wifi right now, and donation drop off/sorting + storage site for people who organize.

Seconds Market & their Match Donation Program - A program designed to directly connect donors with individuals affected by the LA fires.

Anti-Recidivism Coalition & their donation page - Donate to help support the incarcerated fire crews, including the 30 young men from Pine Grove currently out fighting the LA fires.

Spreadsheet of Free Mental Health Services for the LA Wildfire Crisis

Tips from an attorney on dealing with insurance companies

County of LA Vital and Property Records Access - LA County residents directly impacted by the fires can request property and vital records free of charge to help with recovery efforts.

Azay in Little Tokyo, LA - Donate to help provide free meals to evacuees, first responders, volunteers, folks who can’t leave their homes, and their houseless neighbors.

#los angeles #la wildfires #palisades fire #pacific palisades #california fires #la resources #altadena fire

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carriesthewind · 5 months ago

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"Reviewers told the report’s authors that AI summaries often missed emphasis, nuance and context; included incorrect information or missed relevant information; and sometimes focused on auxiliary points or introduced irrelevant information. Three of the five reviewers said they guessed that they were reviewing AI content.

The reviewers’ overall feedback was that they felt AI summaries may be counterproductive and create further work because of the need to fact-check and refer to original submissions which communicated the message better and more concisely."

Fascinating (the full report is linked in the article). I've seen this kind of summarization being touted as a potential use of LLMs that's given a lot more credibility than more generative prompts. But a major theme of the assessors was that the LLM summaries missed nuance and context that made them effectively useless as summaries. (ex: “The summary does not highlight [FIRM]’s central point…”)

The report emphasizes that better prompting can produce better results, and that new models are likely to improve the capabilities, but I must admit serious skepticism. To put it bluntly, I've seen enough law students try to summarize court rulings to say with confidence that in order to reliably summarize something, you must understand it. A clever reader who is good at pattern recognition can often put together a good-enough summary without really understanding the case, just by skimming the case and grabbing and repeating the bits that look important. And this will work...a lot of the time. Until it really, really doesn't. And those cases where the skim-and-grab method won't work aren't obvious from the outside. And I just don't see a path forward right now for the LLMs to do anything other than skim-and-grab.

Moreover, something that isn't even mentioned in the test is the absence of possibility of follow up. If a human has summarized a document for me and I don't understand something, I can go to the human and say, "hey, what's up with this?" It may be faster and easier than reading the original doc myself, or they can point me to the place in the doc that lead them to a conclusion, or I can even expand my understanding by seeing an interpretation that isn't intuitive to me. I can't do that with an LLM. And again, I can't really see a path forward no matter how advanced the programing is, because the LLM can't actually think.

#ai bs #though to be fair I don't think this is bs #just misguided #and I think there are other use-cases for LLMs #but #I'm really not sold on this one #if anything I think the report oversold the LLM #compared to the comments by the assessors

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vivwritesfics · 1 year ago

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Fake It Till You Make It - CL16

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

Fake Dating turned real dating trope

6.3K

For the purpose of this story, I have fabricated the royal family of Monaco. I have created the members of the family, their roles and what they do, using only the fact that Monaco has a royal family

ROYAL MESS

In the early hours of the Morning on Friday, the 19th of May, Princess Y/N of Monaco was found lying in the street outside of MK Club Monaco after what appears to be a wild night out. Fans of the princess know this is no new occurrence for her.

When asked, employees in the club were quoted as saying: “It is always a delight to serve the princess. She is always polite and kind when ordering from the bar, always offering to pay for the drinks of those around her."

"Princess Y/N is fun to party with, sure. But she takes it too far, gets too drunk, and leaves us all wondering how far is too far?" Said one club patron to our reporters.

It leaves us all wondering how far is too far for the Princess of Monaco? When will her family finally take action against her partying ways?

Pictures such as these are not uncommon for the Princess of Monaco, showing us just how far royal privilege goes. It is at times like these where we thank any higher power above us that she is just the spare

Y/N's brother threw the newspaper down in front of her. His jaw was tense and his eye twitched, having just read out the entire article. "Seriously?" He said and leaned forward on his desk, staring down at his sister.

"I don't know what you're so upset about," Y/N muttered as she picked at the dirt beneath her nails. "You're not in the article."

Her brother, Herni, Prince of Monaco, let out a huff. He wanted to grip his hair and pull out of frustration, but he couldn't do that, he had to be pristine and perfect.

For years he and his family had been working to try and improve Y/N's image. It was no easy task. Well, Y/N certainly didn't make it easy. The royal family had tried to control the press, control what the night clubs were saying; they had tried to control Y/N, but none of it was working.

Henri was at his wits end.

He stood straight and turned around, looking towards the window. "How do you not understand that your actions reflect our entire family? That this shit makes all of us look bad, not just you?"

"Like the article said, I'm just the spare," she spat back, not looking up from her nails.

"Oh, don't give me that shit." Henri tried to keep his composure calm, tried not to lose his shit, but Y/N was making it very, very hard. "You're just a spoiled, little brat," he hissed.

Y/N let out a dry laugh. "I'm the selfish one? Seriously, Henri?" She called and he shot her a dirty, venomous look. So, she continued. "Who was it that threw a tantrum like a child when he didn't get the Ferrari 250 GTO for twenty-third birthday?"

Her brother glared, easily hiding his surprise that she remembered the name of the car he had so desperately wanted seven years ago.

But then Henri dropped his glare. She was just lashing out because she was pissed off about the article, he realised as he sat in his seat. "Go on, get out of here," he said to her, his head falling into his hands. He grabbed the newspaper article and slipped it back into his desk drawer.

Y/N didn't have a job. She was twenty-two, living fast and living off her family. Her family had tried to force her to get a job, but that had only pushed her into being more wild and out of control. Henri, though, he had a job. Their father had given him the important task of keeping an eye on Y/N and putting out her fires. It was an exhausting job, one that had him losing sleep.

He had to do something, he had no idea what.

There was one thing Henri could force his sister to do. And that was attend the Monaco Grand Prix.

Every year Henri and Y/N went to the Monaco Grand Prix. Y/N could still remember the first time she ever attended the Monaco Grand Prix. She was just ten years old, an eighteen year old Henri holding her hand as they walked through the paddock. She remembered standing up on the podium, watching as her brother gave a trophy to Jenson Button, and going to give Fernando Alonso a trophy of his own.

This happened every year. And, every year since she was a little girl, Y/N looked forward to seeing Fernando Alonso. The Spaniard always seemed to remember her, always greeting her with a kind, wide smile. Although Y/N loved the races, this was her favourite part of the weekend.

Because she really did love the races. As much as she tried to act nonchalant, Henri knew she loved it, loved the sounds of the cars as they came driving past.

This year, Henri kept Y/N in front of him as they walked through the paddock, waving at the drivers and the teams. The Grand Prix was full of celebrities, as it was every year. And, as with every year, Y/N and Henri were the talk of the town.

In the Red Bull garage, Y/N and Henri met Tom Holland, the Spider-Man, who was awestruck. He couldn't quite believe it as the youngest member of the Monaco Royal Family stood in front of him, talking to him about his role as Peter Parker.

At the Aston Martin garage, Y/N ran straight into Fernando's arms. "There she is," he said as she hugged him back. The bond Y/N had with Fernando was special. They'd saw each other only once a year at the Monaco Grand Prix and, in a weird way, it was like he had watched her grow up right in front of his eyes.

He knew of her partying ways and it worried him, just like it would a father to his daughter. "How have you been?" He asked, his Spanish accent thick.

As Henri moved onto the Ferrari garage, his favourite garage, as Y/N chatted to Fernando. Her favourite garage was wherever Fernando was, and she wasn't afraid to admit that. They caught up on the last year and Fernando introduced her to his teammate, a man Y/N had only met briefly before.

In the Ferrari garage, Henri said hello to Carlos Sainz. Carlos and Henri had always been friendly, that friendliness growing into some kind of friendship when he moved to Ferrari.

But then then was Charles Leclerc.

Herni loved Charles. He had several of his old F1 cars, including one of his Sauber cars, in his private collection. He'd been following Charles's career closely as he represented their country. The day he had his first win in Monaco was going to be a big day for Henri.

"Ah, Charles!" Henri called as he spotted him, already in his race overalls.

The overalls themselves were red and white, matching the flag of Monaco. Charles grinned when he saw Henri, striding over to the prince. "How are you? How is your sister?" He asked as they walked together through the Ferrari garage.

Henri pulled a face. "She is... she is Y/N," he answered with a curt nod. "Anyway, how about you? How is your season going?" He asked.

Charles gave a pained smile, and that was answer enough for Henri. "Ah," he said as they continued to walk. "Well, today will be your day."

The pair continued to chat as they walked through the paddock, catching up like old friends. Because, by this point, they were old friends. Herni asked about Charles's family and his plans for the summer break, and about his girlfriend.

Again, Charles gave Henri a look. "Ah, no girlfriend," Henri said and Charles nodded.

"I got a bit of bad publicity from it," Charles said. "I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."

Suddenly, Henri got an idea. An incredible, wonderful, terrible idea. He looked at his friend, wearing a grin, and said, "I think we can help each other out."

It was clear Charles was confused. So, Henri continued. "My sister wild and out of control," he said. "She needs somebody to get her imagine under control, and you need some good publicity. Take my sister on a couple of dates, take her to some grand prix and it'll make the both of you look good."

Charles suddenly frowned. "What? Henri, we can't do that," he said.

Henri checked his watch. The race was bound to start any moment now, he needed to grab Y/N and go sit. "Think about it," he said to Charles, wished him good luck, and went back to the Aston Martin garage to find his sister.

Henri didn't say anything to his sister as they watched the race. They watched Charles go from pole to second, Henri trying not to let the disappointment show on his face as he watched Y/N give Charles his second place trophy.

There was a good few weeks where Henri didn't hear anything from Charles. So, he didn't say anything to Y/N, whilst also trying to get her under control.

It wasn't working; Henri was close to begging. He kept an eye out for Charles's name in the press, looking for that bad bit of publicity he was talking about. And there was a lot of it, international news outlets accusing Charles of cheating, saying his bad start to the season was because of Karma.

It wasn't looking good for him, thought Henri as his phone vibrated.

He picked it up and read through his messages.

Charles Leclerc

I'm in

***

It was rare for Y/N and Henri to eat dinner together. He was always busy and she didn't give a shit. But, today, Henri insisted.

They sat across from each other, a ridiculously long table between them. Any attempt at conversation was near to impossible with the distance between them.

So, with no thought of decorum, Y/N picked up her dinner and moved down the table coming to sit right beside her brother. "What were you saying?" She asked as she tucked into her dinner.

Henri cleared his throat. "I've been speaking with Charles Leclerc."

"Okay?" Y/N looked up at him, her brows furrowed. "Good for you, Hen."

"Just listen, please," he insisted and Y/N fell quiet, returning her attention back to her food. "Its been decided by your PR team, dad, and I, that it would be best if you were seen to be with someone more... presentable. And our friend Charles if also in need of a bit of good press at the minute."

"So you want me to fake date Charles Leclerc?"

Henri nodded his head. "Not fake date him, exactly. Just be seen with him."

Y/N sat back, tapping her fork against her plate. "Okay, why should I?"

Grinning, Henri used his fork to scoop everything into a pile on his plate. "Because, if you keep up with your partying lifestyle, we're cutting you off."

She said nothing. Throwing her fork down, she pushed her chair back and stormed off.

That was the thing with Y/N. She didn’t care for propriety or her image. She did what she wanted, without much thought of how it made the royal family of Monaco. She was the weekly scandal in the newspaper, the wild child.

Henri’s head fell into his hands.

For the next week, while Charles was away from Monaco at another race, Henri set everything up. He booked out a restaurant for them, picked out something for his sister to wear and prepared her for her date with a script. Henri was controlling everything. He had every move planned out and had Y/N run through it with him several times.

He was a complete control freak.

For the date, Henri gave his sister a set of rules. Charles was his friend, after all, and this was a PR stunt. Anything he could do to prevent Y/N from embarrassing the royal family any further.

That was how she found herself in an empty restaurant, an almost empty glass of wine in front of her. Charles Leclerc hadn’t arrived at the restaurant yet; fashionably late, Y/N assumed. She was five minutes away from leaving.

But then he walked in. It was not possible for this man to look bad, Y/N realised as he strode towards her. His outfit was simple, a white shirt, buttoned almost to the top (just revealing a bit of chest) and a pair of black trousers. His hair had that usual fluff, that he seemed to achieve effortlessly.

Y/N had seen pictures of him online since his career began. He always looked good, so it was no surprise he did now.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he sat in the seat opposite her.

As if to prove a point, the princess finished her drink and placed her glass down. There was a flash to her left, a camera going off. But she didn't care - Henri could put out the fire he created.

Henri had given her a script, but Y/N wasn't going to follow it. That was boring. "Your brother is in F2, right?" Asked Y/N as food was brought over to them (Henri had decided what they were going to eat when he booked out the restaurant, arranging the food to be brought over as soon as Charles arrived).

Charles looked at her, clearly confused. "Um, yes," he answered. "He's with the Ferrari Drivers Academy," he said and took a sip of his own drink. "What is it that you do?"

She snorted. She hasn't meant to snort, but she couldn't help it. "I'm a princess, what do you think I do?"

But it wasn't clear. To Charles, it seemed like all she did was party. According to her brother, all she did was party. So Charles couldn't be blamed to think that.

He didn't answer her. This dinner wasn't going too well. That much was clear to everyone.

Letting out a sigh, Y/N sat back in her seat. "We need to make this look good," she said, glancing to her left. At the paparazzi not quite hidden in a bush outside of the restaurant. "You know what the news articles will be, right? 'Monaco Royalty... something something else."

Charles thought for a moment. The restaurant wasn't the right setting, this was clear.

So, he finished his drink and looked across the table, at the princess sat opposite him. "Do you want to get out of here?"

Fuck yeah Y/N wanted to get out of here. She grabbed her coat and, together, she and Charles walked out of the restaurant. A crowd of paparazzi followed them as they made their way to Charles's Ferrari SF90 Stradale.

It was a beautiful car, one Henri had wanted for the longest time. He he was going to flip his lid once he learnt that Y/N had been inside of it.

The paparazzi continued taking pictures of them as they drove off. "Where are we going?" She asked as he drove her through the streets of Monaco.

Y/N and Charles found themselves in a bar, three drinks deep. They talked casually, more like acquaintances than anything else.

Nothing happened in the bar, they just got to know each other a little better, without the awkward conversation of a formal dinner. Y/N found out about his love for music and he learnt that she was more than a just a party girl.

The next morning Y/N woke up in one of the many guest rooms with a pounding headache. She didn't remember getting back to the palace and was still in her dress from the night before. "Shit," she groaned, the light shining through her windows hurting her eyes.

She sat up and ran her hands through her knotted hair. Painkillers. She needed painkillers and she needed them now.

With no clothes to change into, she searched through the drawers for the much needed painkillers. And when she didn't find any, she made her way to her brothers office. "Henri," she sang as she pushed her way inside. And then she was leaning against the door, holding his head.

"I did it, I went on a date with Charles Leclerc."

"Well done," Henri said as he sat back in his chair. "He's taking you to Canada next week, so pack warm," he said and went back to his work.

Y/N glared at her brother and stormed off, making her way back to bed.

***

Canada. The only reason Y/N agreed to go was to see Fernando Alonso. She was there as Charles Leclerc's guest, but she didn't care. She ran straight to the Aston Martin garage, ran straight over to Fernando.

The Spaniard was surprised to see her, that much was clear. "What're you doing here?" He asked as she threw her arms around him.

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm here as Charles's guest," she answered.

Fernando's eyes went wide. "Really?" He asked, his brows furrowing.

"I know," she answered.

It really was a surprise. Fernando had never even seen the princess of Monaco so much as interact with the Monégasque driver. He knew Prince Henri was a fan, but he didn't know Y/N was. So, he asked about it.

She didn't want to lie to Fernando. But she had to seel it. For the sake of the tabloids, she had to sell it. "Well, we met at the Grand Prix, hit it off, and the next thing I knew, we were going to dinner together."

"Dinner together? Wow," said Fernando. "So, do you want me to go easy on him out there?"

Grinning, she shook her head. "You do what you need to do to bring home a win for us Aston Martin fans," she said.

They said their goodbyes and Y/N made her way to the Ferrari garage.

It wasn't as if she and Charles knew each other; they'd drunkenly discussed things, but that was it. But now, she was playing the girlfriend, tucked into his side as he kept his arm wrapped around her. Before the race he held her close and she tried her best not to look uncomfortable. Play the part. All she had to do was play the part.

During the race she stayed in the Ferrari garage, watching alongside Charles's brother. Y/N had met Arthur before, she just couldn't remember where.

"So you're dating my brother?" Asked Arthur as they watched the race.

Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the screen and nodded her head.

"How did that happen?"

She just pretended not to hear him.

This went on and on, the pair going on the odd date in random countries and Y/N joining him at races. But they were putting on a performance around each other, trying to play that part. They weren't being themselves and, therefore, not getting to know each other.

She'd joined Charles in Silverstone. They'd held hands as they walked through the paddock, smiling and waving at cheering fans. Their relationship was public knowledge now and, first the first time in the last four years, she wasn't in the tabloids for a bad reason.

Henri had arranged a date in Monaco for the pair once they got back from the British Grand Prix. They flew back with Pierre Gasly, an old friend of Charles. Y/N had only met Pierre earlier that year, in Monaco when her brother had introduced them.

Pierre was good fun for the flight home. But, by the time they got there, Y/N was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and shut her eyes. Looking at Charles, their was no doubt that he was just as tired as she was; he was the athlete after all.

As he drove, he blinked continuously and rapidly, his tiredness evident. Her apartment was just around the corner, she realised as they were stuck in traffic. It wouldn't be the worst thing if they blew off the dinner, right?

"I live near here," she said, looking at him.

Charles blinked as he looked at the stationary cars in front of him. "Am I not taking you to dinner?" He asked, somewhat surprised.

"Well, I was thinking we could go back to my apartment and eat some pizza," she said.

"But what do we have to gain from that?"

That was right, everything they were doing had an objective. Everything they were doing had a purpose. Having dinner in her apartment, where there were no cameras to watch them, had no purpose.

"We wouldn't die on the road from you being so tired if we went back to mine."

Charles realised she had a point. When the traffic began moving, he took her directions and drover to her apartment. They made their way inside, practically collapsing on the couch.

"Sorry for the state of it," Y/N muttered as Charles sat on the sofa beside her.

Her apartment really was a mess. Clothes, dirty dishes, pizza boxes everywhere. It wasn't very royal of her. "Don't worry about it," he said quietly as Y/N gathered up the dishes and placed them on the counter in the adjacent kitchen.

Charles didn't want to ask, but he was wondering how the apartment of the Princess of Monaco was so disgusting. He hadn't even realised she had an apartment of her own, assumed she just lived at the palace.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Asked Y/N as soon as she had ordered the cheese and pepperoni pizzas. It was a safe choice, considering she didn't know what Charles wanted. "I've got beers, wine, spirits, anything you want."

She didn't hide her surprise when Charles requested a beer. "I thought you were all... fancy and stuff," she said as she handed him the opened bottle.

"The princess of Monaco is passing me a beer and she thinks I'm fancy," he said with a laugh.

But he was undeniably tired. His laugh turned into a yawn and Y/N turned on the television. They watched in silence as they waited for the pizza to arrive.

"I didn't think you'd be allowed to eat pizza," said Y/N as she checked her phone, checked where abouts the delivery driver was. Just a few minutes away. "You know, considering you're an athlete."

"I won't tell my trainer if you won't," he answered.

Just a few minutes later and Y/N was running to get the pizza. She didn't have to worry about disguising herself, running down to the lobby of the apartment in her comfiest pyjamas. She wasn't like her brother, where he was always prim and proper; she hid in plain sight.

When she came back up with the pizzas, Charles was already snoring lightly on the sofa. Y/N would have left him to sleep, left him on the sofa, but he hadn't eaten since his race. As soon as he'd eaten something, she'd let him go to sleep.

So, she gently woke him, placing one of the pizza boxes in front of him.

Again, they were in silence as they ate. But the food was giving them some sort of strength and energy and, by the time they were finished, neither were quite ready to go to sleep.

So, they talked. They talked and talked, properly getting to know each other. Charles told her stories of his karting days, of his friendship with those on the grid. Y/N told him about her childhood as a princess and her friendship with Fernando Alonso. She didn't get into the subject of her partying habit, not when she realised she didn't miss it.

"No way," Y/N scoffed, sipping her beer.

Charles laughed as he nodded his head. "Seriously. I woke up shouting 'box box'!" He insisted.

She let out a laugh of her own. "Looks like I'll need to have words with the strategists."

Their evening continued much in this fashion. She hadn't realised he was an artist, not until he showed her some music that he hadn't yet released. He was a talented pianist, and Y/N couldn't stop herself from calling him a tortured artist.

There was no way she was going to let him sleep on the sofa. That would be like letting the Queen of England sleep in the dog house. So, she let Charles sleep in her bed, a wall of pillows keeping them separated.

***

There was a shift in their relationship dynamic after that. Things came easier to them. They were still faking it, but they weren't putting on a performance anymore. It was natural.

When they weren't together, she found herself texting him. Any time she had something to say, she texted him, without caring whether he had time to text her back yet. When Y/N wasn't at a grand prix, Charles was pictured laughing at his phone, and everybody knew who he was texting

CL16

what do you want your contact picture to be?

Please don't make it something embarrassing

Oh come on, Charles

I doubt there are any embarrassing pictures of you

okay i take it back

oh god

look at this little guy

you were so cute

what happened?

Hey!

I'm still cute!

The ladies love me

sure they do, sunshine

She found herself sending him anything and everything that made her laugh. Whether they knew of this shift, it wasn't clear.

But Henri certainly did.

The next part of this story takes place during the Belgian Grand Prix. Y/N hadn't attended. She'd been to the last few and, for once, her brother wanted to spend time with her.

"I'm impressed," Henri said as they sat on the balcony, tea in front of them. "You're selling this whole relationship really well."

But his sister wasn't listening. Instead, she was giggling down at her phone as she texted. "Y/N," Henri prompted and she looked up from the phone. "Can you put it down? I'm trying to have a conversation with you."

Reluctantly, Y/N put her phone on the table. "What were you saying, Hen?" She asked and picked up her little tea cup. The rim was decorated with pink, yellow and purple flowers.

"I was saying that you've really made this relationship with Charles look real. If I didn't know better, I really would think you were dating," said Henri. He straightened his posture and sipped his tea. "What is he doing during summer break?"

She shrugged her shoulders. Summer break was something they'd only briefly talked about, while Y/N was in his apartment, trying out his sim rig (spoiler alert, she was fucking terrible at sim racing. But it was still good fun, pretending to be her pretend boyfriend). He'd invited her on his yacht by literally saying, "join me on my yacht during summer?"

It was an invitation Y/N couldn't turn down, so she just said, "sure."

Henri continued. "Why don't you invite him to the palace for dinner?"

That was too much of a step into real relationship territory. Immediately she shook her head. "You do know that he isn't actually my boyfriend, right?" She pressed, placing her teacup back down onto the saucer.

Henri waved her off. "I know, I know," he said. "It would just be nice, you know?"

Suddenly Y/N felt a little sick. This was skidding way too far into relationship territory. Fake boyfriends didn't have dinner with her family, fake boyfriends didn't take him to her apartment just because he could.

The next time she saw Charles, Y/N was on his yacht. She laid in the sun, arm across her stomach and her eyes shut. It was lovely, so fucking lovely.

Charles sat beside her, passing her a drink. "Thank you, Charlie," she said with a smile as she sat up. "Best fake boyfriend ever." He patted her knee and stayed at beside her as the yacht gently moved on the water.

They spoke and, as they spoke, Y/N realised they never spoke about how fake their relationship was. In fact, Charles wasn't acting as though their relationship was fake. Even as they walked to his apartment, through the building and away from prying eyes, he still held her hand.

When she sat on his yacht, talking to him about whatever, he kept his hand on her knee.

As they day got later, the two began drinking. "To us," He called and tapped his glass against Y/N.

"To us," Y/N repeated and drank her drink. They slept on the yacht that night, with Y/N changing from her swim wear into something a little warmer as the sun disappeared.

They ate together, drank together, and just spent time together. It was nice, giggling and leaning on each other. Charles just loved spending time with her, it seemed. He gave her his hoodie when she shivered and, when that wasn't enough, he tucked her into his side.

They were both getting tired and were both ready to go to bed. Y/N glanced up at him from her place against his side. That was when he leaned down to kiss her.

Y/N stood up immediately. "Woah, what the fuck?" She cried as she jumped away from him. "Charles, what the hell are you doing?"

"I... Just thought..."

"Well you thought wrong!"

Y/N stormed off, heading to the bedroom. She set up the bed, placing the cushions between them. They'd slept in the same bed several times since that very first time in her apartment, but hadn't since.

The next day, she got Charles to take to back to the marina. Whether paparazzi saw them or not, she didn't care as she stormed away from him without so much as a goodbye.

OFF THE RAILS

Just when we thought things were looking up for the Monégasque Princess, it seems she is, once again, off the rails.

Princess Y/N has spent the last few months seemingly dating Formula One driver, Charles Leclerc. In this time, it appeared that the princess had halted her wild ways. The clubs she so often frequented were quiet without her presence.

But, after a rocky night on his luxury yacht, the couple appeared to go their separate ways. The Princess was seen storming away from the yacht on Monday morning.

Fans had been hoping that this was just a little spat between the popular couple, but after the Princess was spotted partying in Monaco just the night previous, fans soon lost hope.

She'd done so well staying in the medias good books for the last few months. But, ever since that night on the yacht, Y/N needed to get out. She needed to get out and have a wild night.

She'd never been a relationship person. When Charles had gone to kiss her, she'd been terrified. Why be in a relationship person when every relationship you've had was somebody trying to screw you over?

Because she had loved every minute with Charles. Every fucking minute. For once it felt like she wasn't being used, and they weren't even in a relationship. But Y/N couldn't see a future with him, not one where at least one of them didn't get hurt.

So, she ran away from it. She ran from him and her feelings, ran back into the embrace of the bottle. She partied the night away without caring who saw it.

Of course Charles saw it. It was the first thing he saw when he opened any form of social media. Her face plastered across his screen. Her in a low cut dress that perfectly showed off her figure. He sucked in a breath. She was meant to be his girl, and she didn't want him.

Even though they weren't together anymore, Y/N did stop with the partying. She calmed down immensely, no longer appearing in the tabloids. No longer appearing anywhere, actually.

Charles tried his best to forget about her. He didn't sleep around, he just put all of his energy into his work. He took sponsorship deals, did photoshoots and spent all of his time training. All to get Y/N out of his head.

Well, it didn't work. Charles couldn't forget about her. It was taking everything in him not to go to her apartment and tell her how he had fallen for her while they were supposed to be pretending to date.

Charles messaged Henri, asked how Y/N was doing, but Henri didn't seem to know.

That was because she hadn't been seen outside of her apartment in weeks.

When Henri told Charles, he knew he had to do something.

After attending the Italian Grand Prix alone, Charles made his way to Y/N's apartment. He had all of his things, having not made his way back to his own apartment.

When he knocked on her door, there was a moment before anything happened. He listened out, listening as she got off of the couch with a groan and walked over to the door.

The girl that answered the door was the girl that Charles was in love with, but she was hard to recognise. Hair a mess, bags under her eyes, wearing clothes that hadn't been washed in days.

When she pulled open the door, her face dropped. "Oh," she muttered, leaning against the door, not letting him see the mess inside. "What are you doing here?"

"Your brother told me you're not doing good."

"So?"

She was so quick to shut him down, to try and get him away from her apartment.

But, Charles pushed on. "So, I came to check on you. I'm worried about you."

Finally, she pushed open the door and allowed him inside.

The apartment was a state. Trash everywhere, dirty clothes about the floor, all of her dishes used and piled up around the apartment. There was half eaten food that was definitely rotting.

"Shit, Y/N," said Charles as she pushed the door shut.

She glared and threw herself back down onto the sofa. "Oh, fuck off," she said.

Charles sat on the end of the couch. It was the only place in the apartment that filthy. "I just want to help you," he said and began picking up the clothes on her floor.

And then Y/N sat up, causing Charles to stop what he was doing. "Why? Our entire relationship was fake, so why do you care?" She spat.

"Because." Charles stood up a little straighter, dropping her clothes into a little pile. "Because I love you. I know we were only fake dating, but it felt so real! And I realised that I actually do love you! I want to date you for real! I want to be the best real boyfriend ever, not the best fake boyfriend ever!" He exclaimed. "I don't know why you're so opposed to the idea. Those dates we went one, the ones after that first night in your apartment, they were amazing. I wouldn't have invited you to my yacht if I didn't seriously like you."

Y/N scoffed sarcastically. "Sure you do, Charles. Sure you, a world famous Formula One driver who can have anybody he wants, wants me, the troubled spare, the princess that nobody wants." She said it quietly, picking at her nails.

He leaned down in front of her, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. "I do. I really do want to be with you. Princess Y/N of Monaco, I want to take you on dates and I want you to join me at races. I want to show you off in the paddock and I want to take you on my yacht, kissing you with your permission. I want you, Y/N."

But the way she looked at him, she looked ready to cry. "I can't do heartbreak," she said and pulled her hand away from his. "Not with you, Charles. I can't handle you breaking my heart," she said and stood up.

Charles suddenly pulled her close. "I won't break your heart," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "Now, go take a shower. I'll sort out... all of this."

Y/N did just that. She turned on the water and hopped into the shower as Charles picked up the rubbish. Mainly empty wrappers and bottles of soft drinks. There were plenty of pizza boxes that he shoved behind the bin, just for the time being. After that, Charles picked up her clothes from the floor. He shoved what he could into her washing machine and turned it on, leaving to pick up the plates.

When Y/N hopped out of the shower, the apartment wasn't clean. But it was better. The floor was now visible. As Charles cleared up the space between the couch and the television, Y/N set about washing the dishes.

"Pizza?" Charles offered as he walked over with some half full glasses and cups.

But Y/N shook her head as she scrubbed a bowl that was once full of cereal. "You know, for the first time in a while, I'm not feeling like pizza."

"We'll get you something better, then," Charles said and set about ordering food.

They sat on the couch, Y/N in the last of her clean clothes, tucked into his side. "If we're gonna try this, we'll need to go on proper dates," she muttered, her head against his chest. "And, eventually, you'll need to come and have dinner with my family."

Charles let out a laugh. "Relax, chérie, we're gonna take it one step at a time."

One step at a time.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader smut #charles leclerc x you #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #cl16 #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

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for the girls * fem!driver

she isn't worrying about being on track for the first time - she worries about the media.

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, f1 grid x reader

warnings: literally a piece of garbage, SO inaccurate, no idea what i’m doing…

notes: this is sOOO BAD PLS I DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE THIs man

also, please feel free to send it some scenarios for this series! you can send them in here freeflow~ none of these will be posted in chronological order so don’t worry about it

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

"here is sebastian vettel's personal addition to the grid, (y/n)," the interviewer grins, turning to face the girl. "welcome to the 2023 formula 1 season. thank you for coming in."

"thank you for having me," she smiles, hands clasped together in front of her. she's been following sebastian around all day - she doesn't want to be left alone in such a tough crowd.

"how does it feel to be the first woman in formula 1 in almost 2 decades?"

"i'm very thankful for the opportunity given to me to achieve this spot on the grid. i hope i'll be good enough to create a difference and be the stepping stone towards more women in the sport," she answers cordially, moving her arms slightly.

interviews, unfortunately, were also a very big part of the job. she didn't really mind it, but she knew the controversy of her being in the sport, and it's been driving her insane since the pre-season testing.

"and of course congratulations on your move from formula 2 to the main league. how do you feel about the doubters or naysayers who are saying you don't belong here?"

"i think it's unfair to assume my placement in the season before it has even started. i have worked as hard as everybody else to get where i am today, so i'm just really hoping that the fact that i am a woman does not overshadow all my achievements."

she's seen all that's said about her. the news articles, the videos criticising sebastian's choice to vouch for her, and the comments under her posts and announcements - it's very disheartening.

sebastian has tried his best to tell her otherwise, telling her time and time again that he wouldn't have vouched for her if he didn't think she had the potential to be here.

"and how are you getting along with everybody else on the grid?"

"very good. i mean, we've already been acquainted for years and that really helped me out a lot," she laughs, locking eyes with sebastian doing an interview right next to her. "but it is still a competitive sport. it's going to be a climb out there from my starting position at 18th. hopefully it will be a good race."

"of course, good luck out there."

"thank you so much."

"just like we talked about. you'll be fine," sebastian folds his arms over his chest, leaning back into the wall.

she's pulling the sleeves of her race suit over her shoulders. "why don't i believe you," she mutters, looking down at her shoes to avoid his eyes. "think about what the media would say if i don't finish in the points today."

"who cares about what the media has to say? just do your best out there today," sebastian repeats, patting her shoulder lightly to get her attention.

he flashes her a grin when she looks up, only to have her roll her eyes as she zips up. "me. i have to face the interviewers later, remember? not you."

"just race like you always have. you're doing this for yourself. not the media, not the insecure guys hiding behind a screen, and definitely not the interviewers." he grabs her shoulders, shaking her just slightly to lighten up the mood. "i'll be in your ears to help you out, okay?"

she sighs, leaning slightly to the side to grab her balaclava off the table. "promise to tell me when i'm being reckless?"

"i'm your race engineer. i've got you."

he turns her around, towards the track where the cars have lined up. "get out there and shut them all up. you're doing this for the girls, remember that."

"right. for the girls," she huffs, wiping her hands on her race suit. she takes the helmet that sebastian is holding out to her and gives him a smile. "okay. i'll talk to you through the radio."

and she does everything she has to do. she’s in the race car, anticipating the formation lap that’s about to start.

days leading up to this moment, she didn’t think she would be so nervous to be behind a wheel. she doesn’t typically let the feeling get to her so much.

but it’s different now that it’s being broadcasted to the entire world. she’s now watched by ten times her normal viewership.

“radio check,” sebastian’s voice comes into her ears. his voice has become a significant point to calming her down behind the wheel. you would be surprised how well he can calm her down just by his voice.

“copy.” she breathes into the mic unknowingly as she exhales, looking up and taking in her view.

her car was surrounded by the engineers, making the final touches on the car and triple checking all the components.

within a few seconds, she can see the sky as they disperse — the sun is shining bright and there are barely any clouds. to her right is yuki, also looking around the grid and the grandstand.

she locks eyes with him as he looks around, her eyes crinkling at the corners to acknowledge him. he returns the gesture with a smile through his eyes then a thumbs up to wish her luck.

she lifts her hand above the halo and returns the thumbs up.

“okay, the first car has taken off for the lap. i’ll check in on you again in a while.”

her grip on the steering wheel is tight despite the engine being turned off. she’s proud of herself for making it through her first race in the league, even parking the car neatly in parc ferme.

“you did amazing.”

“you’re only saying that. i didn’t even finish in the points,” she answers dejectedly, rolling her eyes to herself.

sebastian tries to make light of every situation, even if the normal person would not be able to find that in a frustrating position. but he was also a rookie once. the least he could do is empathise and try to make this experience less daunting for her.

he’s investing in her — her talent is impeccable, but he has to make sure that he fosters and encourages her into the best version of herself. the racer that he knows she is, she just needed someone to actively believe in her.

“the climb from p18 to p11 is good progress. the season just started, kid. the only way is up.”

“sure,” she chuckles. “i’m getting out of the car. see you in a bit, seb.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse (comment to be added)

#what is this nonsense #i hate it #sebastian vettel x reader #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke f1 #fem!driver #female driver #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

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jewishvitya · 8 months ago

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Haaretz did this:

The full thing is under the cut, in case this link is paywalled for other people. The actual text has blocked out portions as well, to highlight what it's like to report on cases of administrative detention.

Highlights:

Like all administrative detention hearings, it was held in-camera, to obscure the fact that detainees' lawyers do their job without access to the facts of the case. Even the few details that are not secret are prohibited for publication. The administrative detention order was approved in full for a period of six months

And

In the past, it was considered, at least officially, a measure reserved for the most extreme of cases. This hypocritical position has always been false, but now there is no longer any need to save face. According to the Israeli army's own data, almost 5,000 arrests were made in the West Bank in the past eight months. These are very conservative numbers, as they don't include the many thousands arrested and released without being indicted.

The data shows that administrative detention, this so-called extreme of extremes, is now the norm. According to Israeli Prison Service numbers, Israel now holds 7016 people who have not yet been convicted in its jails – either awaiting trial or under administrative detention. Of these, 4,299 – more than 60%! – are held without charge or trial. And all that is without saying a single word about the torture, hunger and humiliation to which all Palestinian prisoners held by Israel are subjected these days.

Administrative detention is based on secret suspicions, secret evidence and no charges being brought. To conceal its inherent absurdity, hearings are held in-camera and away from the public eye. As such, even the little that is revealed to the defense remains prohibited for publication.

On the morning of October 29, after a short farewell to his wife Nariman and their kids, Bassem Tamimi left his home in the West Bank village of Nabi Saleh, north of Ramallah, and started heading east toward the Allenby Bridge. He was on his way to visit relatives in Jordan he had not seen in a long time. A little after 11 A.M., Nariman received a message saying, "The secret police asked for me. I'll write when it's over." And then, shortly after 3 P.M., a call: "I am being arrested. They're coming to take the phone. Have to go. Bye."

This, unfortunately, was not Bassem's first encounter with Israeli law. His village, Nabi Saleh, has waged a multi-year campaign of civil resistance against land grabs and settlement expansion. As a prominent activist, he was incarcerated repeatedly for his role as a protest leader, part of Israel's attempt to quell dissent.

In the evening, the phone rang again. The woman on the line introduced herself, saying she lived in Silwan and was currently at the Hadassa hospital in Jerusalem. She then went on to say that Bassem was there, surrounded by soldiers. He was taken there after his blood pressure soared dangerously. Nariman could faintly hear Bassem's voice over the line saying, "I'm fine, don't worry, everything's good." After a few more hours, at night, that same woman sent a picture of Bassem in the ER, undergoing a checkup; his hand bound with ziptie cuffs. That was the last time Nariman heard from him. Save for a single short lawyer visit before Eid al-Fitr in April, no one has been in contact with him since.

Four days after his arrest, police ████, ████ ████: "███████ ███ ████ █████ ███ ████████, ██████, █████? "███████ ███ ██████: "████ ███ ██████." And that was that. Eight days later – the maximum time afforded to the authorities by article 33 of Israel's military law in the West Bank before a detainee must be presented before a judge (who also is a soldier in uniform) – a six-month administrative detention order was issued, which did not suggest any specific allegations, but rather only a very general statement regarding ███████ ██ █ ███████ .

Eleven more days later, the Kafkaesque proceedings of judicial review over the order took place. Some of it was held ex-parte between the soldier-judge and the Shin Bet. Like all administrative detention hearings, it was held in-camera, to obscure the fact that detainees' lawyers do their job without access to the facts of the case. Even the few details that are not secret are prohibited for publication. The administrative detention order was approved in full for a period of six months, until April 28.

Administrative detention, however, is not really bound by the limits of time, and can be extended indefinitely. And indeed, as the six months passed, a new six-month order was signed, citing the same meaningless cause of ██████ ████ █ ██████ ██ █. This time however, and unlike the state of affairs in almost any other administrative detention case, the defense had a pretty good insight into the details of the case. Administrative detention is such a mundane phenomenon in Israeli military courts, that , , , .

A few hours prior to Bassem's arrest, Israeli forces arrested █████ █ ████ █ ██████ ███ █████ █ ████████ ███ ███, Bassem's friend from their days together in Israeli jail at the beginning of the millennium. Then too, under administrative detention. ██████ ███ █████ █ ███ ████ ███ ███ ██████ █ ██ █████ █ ███ █████ ███ ███ █ ███ ███ ████, █ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ ████ █ █ ███ █████ ██ ██ ██ ██ ███ ████ █ ███ █████ ███ ███ █████ ███ ████ █ ███. █████ ███ ███ █████ ███ █████ █ ███, █████ ███ ███ ███ ███ ███ █████ █ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ █████? █ █████ ██ ███ ███. ██ ███ ██ ███ █ ██ █████ ███ ███ ██████ ███ █████ █ █████ ███ ███ ██████ ███ █████.

█ ████ ███ ███ ███ █████ ███ █████ █ ████ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ █████ █ ████ ██ ███, ██████ ███ █████ █ ███ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ █████ █ ██ ███ ███ ███ ███ ██ ███ ███ █ "██████ ███ ███ ████ ███ ████ █ ██████ ███ ███? █████ ███ █████ █ ████ ███ ███ █████ ███ ████ █ ███████ ███." ███ ██████ ███ ████ █ ███ ███ ███ ██ ███ █████ █ ██████ ███ ███ 25 ███ ██ █████ █ ███████ ████, long after the administrative detention order against Bassem was reviewed and approved by the court, ██████ was unconditionally released.

On his release, ██████ contacted Nariman and told her what had happened, thinking that his release must also mean Bassem should soon follow. This is how the defense learned the details it knows, and not through discovery by the prosecution. Even though there is no gag order on ██████ ██████'s case, discussing its details in conjunction with Bassem's administrative detention is prohibited for publication. Despite everything that was revealed – and that is the nature of administrative detention: there can always be more hidden evidence, secret, almost mystical – Bassem is still being held under administrative detention even now. Almost two weeks after the hearing, ███ █ ██ ██████ ██████ ████████ █████ █ █████ █ █████, the judge partially confirmed the second administrative detention order against Bassem in violation of military law provisions, ████████ ████ █ ███ █ ███████ ███ █ ████████.

Like Bassem, thousands more are held captive by Israel under administrative detention. In the past, it was considered, at least officially, a measure reserved for the most extreme of cases. This hypocritical position has always been false, but now there is no longer any need to save face. According to the Israeli army's own data, almost 5,000 arrests were made in the West Bank in the past eight months. These are very conservative numbers, as they don't include the many thousands arrested and released without being indicted.

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hotchnerwrites · 2 months ago

Note

can you maybe do hotchner period smut?? if you’re comfortable with it

(image from pinterest)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: NSFW, smut (18+ only), period sex, female anatomy on reader, no use of (y/n), touchy Aaron hehe, swear words

A/N: Thank you for your request, anon! I really hope you like it :) Please excuse any grammatical errors, I speed-wrote this.

My requests are open. Send me stuff!

Your cramps were no match for the industrial-strength painkillers you had popped an hour ago. Feeling less like shit and more like a functional human, you grab your headphones and head to the kitchen to finish the washing. You’d spent yesterday baking, and the result had been one delicious batch of muffins and a battalion of baking dishes. The music blaring concealed the noises from the real world and you lost yourself in the thudding bass as you wipe the glasses and put them back in place. As you stretch to reach the top shelf, you feel an arm slide across your belly. You spin in fear, hands coming up in a defensive position. You would’ve started swinging but the familiar cologne stopped you.

“Jesus Christ, Aaron, you scared the shit out of me! Announce yourself next time!” You yelp, smacking his chest. Aaron laughs and holds you closer. He presses a kiss to your temple and slides your headphones off. “I missed you, honey.”

You roll your eyes in mock annoyance and evade his kiss. “What’s wrong, honey,” Aaron questions. You never shy away from his kisses. You sigh and wish the painkillers would also have worked for your foul mood. “I’m sorry, I just started my period, and I feel like shit.”

You see understanding fill Aaron’s eyes immediately. “Oh honey,” he says sympathetically, “How can I help?”

“It’s ok, I’m fine. But can we order in today? I’ve been thinking about that poke bowl place this whole week.”

Aaron nods and immediately places a call to the restaurant.

———

A few hours later, belly full and heart happy, you lean against the couch. Aaron sweeps away the takeaway containers. He’s wearing his old Harvard Law sweatshirt, and his hair is messy. He looks so much younger like this. You stare at his back fondly as he closes the kitchen for the night. Once he’s done, he strides over to where you’re sitting, presses a kiss to your forehead and flops down next to you. He leans in again, kissing you on the mouth this time.

“Hey, beautiful,” he murmurs. His voice is soft but you can hear a slight rasp. The one he gets when he wants you. Your mouth is too busy pressing open-mouth kisses against his to reply. The languid motions of his tongue against yours turn your mind to mush and a deep groan escapes you. You can feel heat pooling between your legs and before things get beyond you, you pull back. Aaron’s staring at you, eyes slightly glossy and lips kiss-bitten. He looks slightly confused but waits for you to speak. God, he looks delicious.

“Aaron, Aaron, we can’t, I’m on my period,” you sigh. He slides a large hand under your sweatshirt and pulls you closer. “I don’t care,” his tone brooks no argument. He pulls your face back to yours and swipes his tongue against your lips before licking the inside of your mouth. “I missed you so much today, honey, your period isn’t gonna get in my way, not today,” he mumbles against you. He looks drunk on your touches. Your head is already a little mushy and you don’t respond. Instead, you grind your hips against his lap.

“Besides,” he continues, “just ask Reid. I’m sure there are five different articles he can cite where orgasms are good for relieving cramps.”

You’re too far gone at this point. You utter a silent thanks for tossing a towel on the couch to catch crumbs, you had no idea it would serve a different purpose then.

Aaron continues his ministrations and peels your shirt off you. You hadn’t opted for a bra today, which made things easier for him. He attacks your nipples with the ferocity of a man starved. You throw your head back as pleasure shoots from your breasts to your brain. His mouth felt so good sucking on you. You could never get enough of this.

He holds onto your hips to support you and drags you slowly across his hard cock. A strangled sound escapes your lips, and you bury your face against his neck. You need more and soon.

“Aaron, please, I need more,” you whimper.

“Shhh, honey, I’ve got you. Just enjoy this,” he reassures you. Aaron makes quick work of the rest of your clothes. He doesn’t waste any time today. You both know you’re already wet enough for this. Aaron lines his cock up with your entrance and slides in. You both groan at the feeling. Your body feels like it’s on fire, and your period makes you more sensitive to everything.

“Go ahead,” Aaron instructs. He’s using his Unit Chief, which goes straight to your brain. You heed his command and start moving up and down his cock slowly. Aaron watches you bounce on him, his pupils blown out completely.

“Fuck, baby, you’re taking me so well,” he grunts out. His hand snakes out to find your clit, laying gentle strokes against you. He applies just the right amount of pressure, and your head lolls back. Your walls flutter against his, and you hear Aaron’s breathy groans. His cock twitches inside you, and you can tell he’s close. You speed up, and just like that, the coil in your belly snaps. Your whole body spasms in release, and you hold onto his shoulders for dear life. As you ride your high out, you feel Aaron spill warm liquid inside you. He’s still mumbling sweet nothings in your ears as you both try to catch your breath.

“You feel better, honey? Was that good?” He asks.

You smile and nod. You’re tired now, but the warm fuzz spreading through your body wipes away traces of the cramps. “Mhm, I’m good. Thank you, Aaron,” you kiss his cheek gently.

“I’m glad, sweetheart. Let me go start a shower, okay?”

You plant one last kiss on his cheek and slide off him. You wonder what you did to deserve him as you slowly drift off to sleep.

Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs, comments and follows are appreciated! Constructive criticism is welcome :) Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner smut #period sex #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x f!reader #aaron hotchner x afab!reader #hotch x f!reader #hotch x afab!reader #hotchnerwritescm #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x you smut #criminal minds x you

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awriterinthenight · 4 months ago

Text

"Is this real?"-Jess Mariano

words: 983

warnings: Jess being a tiny bit of an asshole, language, Jess Mariano x Artist!Reader

summary: You and Jess never got along back in New York, but when your art gets hung up in a gallery, Jess is the first person you want to tell. But, he's no longer in New York

You'd done it, you actually did it. This seemed like something you had only dreamed of, but here it was the proof that you actually had done it.

You were a very passionate artist, working hard on everything you did. Making sure every painting was almost perfect, and it seemed to finally pay off. Your art was being hung up in one of the biggest art galleries. They were doing an installment of a young artists works, and by some miracle yours got picked,

Thinking about it, the only reason this happened was because of Jess. He wasn't the nicest to you exactly. The two of you seemed to have a random rivalry for almost no reason at all. Yet he was the one who always pushed you.

If he thought something was off with your painting, he wasn't afraid to say it, and have you rethink the entire painting. Sometimes you talked about how one day you wanted your art framed in a famous gallery. If he overheard that he would immediately say something like 'not with that splotchy painting' which would annoy you, especially since he wasn't an artist. But now you realized that without his helpful critiques, you probably wouldn't be here right now.

As strange as it sounds, all you wanted to do was run to him and tell him all about how your art was going to be in a gallery. Even though he was a dick about your art, sometimes if you really accomplished something, like winning a prize or being recognized, he would congratulate you and be entirely sincere about it.

The thing was though, that Jess no longer lived in New York. His mom had shipped him down to some random small town to live with his uncle. You didn't know his current number, or even where he was, so it looked like you had to give up hope.

Or, at least you thought you did, till you remembered you knew Liz's number. You called her, asking where Jess was. She seemed suspicious to why some girl was asking about where he was, but once you explained that you were his friend, which is kind of a lie, but also kind of not, she gladly told you that he was in some town called Stars Hollow, living with his uncle Luke, at a diner called Luke's.

You thanked Liz for the information, quickly grabbing your keys and running to your car. The drive from New York to Stars Hollow was only about 2 hours with traffic. You made it down there in what felt like almost no time, it was now almost 4pm when you parked outside of the diner, where you could see Jess from the window.

Grabbing the newspaper that had the picture of your art, and the article on it, you ran inside. A site like this was something new for the people of Stars Hollow, so they were all intrigued when an unfamiliar girl, in a leather jack ran into Luke's diner, shouting, "Jess, jess."

Jess looked up from where he was taking an order behind the counter, immediately recognizing your voice in a second, "Y/N, w-what are you doing he-" he started to say, getting cut off by you.

"Shut up, just read this," you told him, practically shoving the paper into his hands, as you leant over the counter.

He smirked at you demanding him to read the paper, "Alright, alright calm down," he said, starting to read the paper. He read it rather quickly, his eyes picking up on keywords. In moments his mouth broke into a huge grin, he had read how your artwork was being framed in a rather well known gallery.

"No way, is this real?" he asked, in shock at how you finally accomplished your dreams.

You nodded frantically, "Yes, it's already up, but the exhibit opens next week," you told him.

Not being able to contain his excitement for you, he moved around the counter, hugging you. He even spun you around a couple times, proud of you for your accomplishment.

"I can't believe it," he said, smiling down at you after he set you down, "We have to celebrate, how long are you in town for?" he asked.

You shrugged, "I don't know, how long do you want me to stay?" you ask a seemingly innocent question, since you weren't in any rush to leave.

Jess could feel his brain short circuit at that moment. He desperately wanted to say 'forever', but knew that couldn't, "My shift ends at 6, so you can come back around then, and if you want you can find somewhere to crash for the night, then leave in the morning," Jess said, trying not to think of how you might have to leave at some point.

"Perfect," you said, "I'll come back around 6 then, I'll see you later," you told him, walking out of Luke's diner. You were gonna spend the next two hours touring around town and some of the small shops.

Jess didn't realize it until now, but the entire diner had been quiet since the moment you walked in. Everyone was in utter shock that the delinquent Jess Mariano, who was known for not caring for anyone, was just seen with a girl, who he was looking at as if she was the only important thing in this world.

"What are you all staring at," he yelled, making everyone go back to their usual activities, now that regular Jess was back. He turned to Luke who was still staring at him, "What, why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, annoyed at everyone.

"Nothing," Luke said, too tired to deal with this. You didn't know it yet, but soon you would be the talk of the town. The girl who was able to make Jess Mariano, actually care for someone.

#x reader #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano #gilmore girls

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stardust-thief · 17 days ago

Text

meet cute

an: this is not very spiderman-esque + it kinda sucks😭 but i have brainworms im thinking of so many ways the bau cld be part of this au

synopsis: your best friend, penelope garcia, gets you to meet spencer reid, who unbeknowest to you is seceretly spiderman, 1.7k words

cw: just fluffy meet cute, a little rossi slander im sorry, mentions of tobias hankel but its pre-lizard, bc tobias hankel is the lizard in this au, not proofread at all

masterlist

“Pen, are you sure this is a good idea?” Your best friend, Penelope Garcia, whom you loved with all your heart, was meddling again. She had taken notice of the fact that you are a workaholic and would prefer to spend your days researching for your newest article, than literally anything else. Deciding this was completely against the criteria to be friends with her, she has taken you to meet some of her friends. Namely, Spencer Reid. You didn’t know much about Spencer other than the fact that he was a great photographer and an even greater nerd. Said affectionately, you literally do nothing but work, how nerdier can you be.

“Are you kidding me? This is a perfect idea! Both you and Spencer are basically hermits, my thinking is that two hermits cancel out each other's hermit-ness and you’ll both bloom into beautiful social butterflies! Maybe I’ll finally get to see my best friends outside for once. Or maybe that’s too big an ask.” She grabbed your arm to make sure you couldn’t back out last minute, and all but dragged you into the little cafe you were supposed to meet this elusive Spencer at.

The cafe wasn't one you familiar with, preferring to stick with the one adjoined to the Daily Bugle building. This one had booths lining the walls, and a vast glass counter full of the most delicious pastries you’ve ever seen. The one at the Daily Bugle served only stale bagels, and made you sit in those hellish latticed garden chairs that do no good things for your comfort.

You watch as Penelope’s hawk eyes scan the cafe, “ok so, he’s not here yet. I promise you he hates being late, just sometimes something will just come up and- he’ll show up! Go get a seat, I’ll order something for us.”

“Ok, I can do that.” You say as you turn to move towards an open booth seat. Penelope was a generally anxious person, this was something you've grown used to after knowing her for so long. But whatever that was back at the counter was a lot more anxious than strictly necessary. True, being late to a first meeting was not a good first impression. Also true that the later he is, the later you will be in getting back to the office, meaning another late night working to finish your article. But it's not the end of the world! Yet!

Penelope interrupted your doom-thinking by placing a tray full of various coffees and pastries on the table. “I got your favourite,” she says as she pushes the warm coffee towards you and sits on the opposite side of the booth, “I wasn’t sure which pastry to get so I got… many.”

“Many is a word I would use, yeah… It’s fine Pen, we can all just take some home. Have you heard anything from your friend?”

She gives her patented dramatic sigh, “Ugh, Boy Wonder says he’s on his way. Wait, forget I called him that. Spencer Reid is on his way, he says he apologises for his tardiness.”

A loud bang catches your attention as a tall man, who looks like he’s ran a marathon to get here, slams the door to the cafe open a little too hard, rattling the wall decor and capturing the attention of literally every person in the shop. You watch as his eyes sheepishly scan the room until they land on Penelope. He gives an equally sheepish wave and hurries to sit down next to Penelope.

“Spencer, what the hell was that?” Penelope mutters, and you watch as they devolve in an argument at the volume of mice. You sit there awkwardly, sipping at your coffee as you wait for them to remember you’re there.

“Ok, Spencer!” Penelope starts, “this is my friend, who has been waiting here very patiently, might I add.”

Spencer’s eyes turn to meet yours, his eyes are a warm and deep brown that reminds you of coffee. You notice the slight bloodshot twinge he has, and the dark, heavy bags that sit under them. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in at least 2 weeks, leaving strong stubble clinging to his lower face.

Out of habit, you raise your hand to shake his and introduce yourself, “Hi Spencer.” It takes a moment for him to realise you have your hand raised, and he rushes to meet it.

“Hi, I’m really so sorry for being late, that was so rude of me, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” you hear Penelope give a mocking laugh as if to say ‘you never apologise to me like this'. Ignoring her, you notice that his hands are calloused and rough, littered with small bruises and nicks that leave you questioning how they got there. Noticing this he's quick to retract his hand, “sorry, I work in a lab so I get all kinds of cuts from the machines. Um, what do you do?”

“I work as an investigative journalist for the Daily Bugle.” The Bugle has a bit of a reputation due to its owner, D. Rossi, who is known to be an avid anti-spiderman fanatic and is constantly making up theories to defraud and belittle him. But you’re too proud of your work to let something like that stop you from talking about it. At the mention of the newspaper, however, you watch as Spencer shoulders tense up and he shoots a sidelong glance at Penelope.

“The Daily Bugle! Yeah, I used to send in my photographs for them sometimes.” Spencer breathes out.

“Really? What articles were they published in, I might’ve seen them!”

“No um, Rossi kept rejecting them so I never got them published.”

Oh. Good job. “Yeah, he can be a bit tough sometimes. I’d love to have a look at your work, maybe I can try and get something published along with my articles?” You offered this as a nicety, but you’re also genuinely curious to see what kind of work he’s done.

“That would be really nice actually, I’d appreciate it. What are you working on now?”

“An article on the research Dr Hankel is doing at Oscorp, he’s taking lizard DNA and attempting to splice it with human DNA to modify our genes. He’s hoping it can help humans regenerate lost limbs the same way lizards can. It’s fascinating stuff, but I don’t think it could work.” Especially seeing as Dr Hankel seems to have about 12 screws loose, interviewing him was not one of your preferred research activities.

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard about that. My boss at the lab says it could be amazing if it works. It just has to work first.” He chuckles and begins picking apart the pastry in front of him. “So, you don’t agree with Rossi’s whole anti-Spiderman tirade?”

You hum, “not really. I mean, I think Spiderman is doing a great thing by helping protect the people of this city, but I also think he has a lot to answer for in terms of damage to properties, and livelihoods. But I definitely don’t think he deserves the scrutiny he gets from Rossi. Without him, what would New York do?”

He visibly relaxes at that, maybe he’s just a Spiderman super fan, there are probably worse things a person could be. You all get wrapped up in conversation and fail to notice the hours passing by until a worker comes up to your table and lets you know it’s nearly closing time.

“God, we’ve been here all day. I need to get back to work, finish my article before my deadline tomorrow.” You say, rushing to stand up and leave. Spencer rushes to stand up with you.

“You’re working overnight? Surely that can’t be safe.”

“It’ll be much less safe if I don’t hand this in to Rossi before my deadline.” You chuckle, “I’ll be fine, I’ve done the bulk of it, not much more to do now!”

“Let me walk you to your office, it’s getting dark out.” Out the corner of your eye, you see Penelope wiggle her shoulders and wink at you.

“No I can’t ask you to do that, it’s not too long of a walk.” It is such a long walk, you’re just lying. “I’ll get to the office before the moons even out, don’t worry about it. Penelope, thanks for organising this, I had a lot of fun.” She pushes out of the booth set and wraps you in a big hug.

“Oh, I’m so glad you came! It’s good to see you away from your desk for once. Don’t stay up too late, ok, go home and get some rest at an appropriate time. No later than 4am ok?” She holds you by your shoulders and looks deep into your eyes until you agree. “Good, take some of these pastries with you, you’ll need the sugar.”

“Thank you Penelope, I promise I won’t stay too late.” Pastries in hand, you turn to Spencer again. God his eyes were so deep. “It was really nice to meet you Spencer, maybe we can do this again sometime. As a group I mean, all three of us.” Real smooth! The idea of hanging out with Spencer again made you excited, but the last thing you want to do was come on to strong.

His eyes widen slightly and he rocks back and forth on his feet. “Yeah, I would love to do this again, all of us. It was lovely meeting you as well, please stay safe.”

You smile at him and turn to leave, beginning the long walk back to the offices of the Daily Bugle. The many steps in your way do nothing to stop the giddy feeling in you.

Unbeknownst to you, after Spencer walked Penelope home he slipped into a dark alley, pulled on his spider-suit, and started swinging himself across New York until he found you walking to your office. After following you from the rooftops, making sure you were safe, he noticed that you had in fact lied about how long it took you to get back to work. He made a note to ask more firmly if he could walk you back next time, especially when it was getting so late. Once you were back in the Daily Bugle, he waited and waited until you were finished with your work to escort you back home.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #spiderman au #spencer reid #penelope garcia

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phoward89 · 11 months ago

Text

Based on this ask

Coriolanus Snow knew firsthand the deadly risks of childbirth, considering he watched in horror as a young child when his own mother and baby sister died, but he knew that he needed an heir to carry on the Snow name. When he planned on marrying for hate, well, he could care less what happened to his wife during the delivery.

But, somehow, all his plans and views on marriage changed when he met you. You were hired as his secretary, so you spent a lot of time with him. Coriolanus never planned on falling in love with you, but he did. Hell, he even killed your boyfriend in order to make you single again so you'd be able to go out with him.

And when you accepted his offer of dinner, which came with a single white rose, a few months after the death of your longtime boyfriend, he did everything in his power to make you fall in love with him. Coriolanus was successful, you fell hard and fast for him. He was too charming not to let wiggle into your heart, and into your bed.

The president needed a first lady, so he proposed and married you. But it was a bit scandalous, considering you were his secretary. After a couple of negative articles in the media, well, Coriolanus got rid of the writers and made sure that the studios and printing presses in the Capitol (all of Panem actually) knew that if another foul word was printed about his relationship with his wife then he'd kill every single person in the media office.

Safe to say, only articles praising President Snow and First Lady Snow’s love and glamorous life hit the press after that.

And then, of course, came the subject of children. After discussing it, you stopped taking birth control. And you ended up getting pregnant right away.

Seeing you so round with his child gave Coriolanus joy. Gave him an ego boost because he was the one to plant his seed in you. You were carrying his child. His precious baby.

The baby was no longer looked at as an heir, but as a baby to love.

And it was all because of you.

“Coryo, I have my top list of baby names finished.” You told your husband, who was lounging in bed wearing only a pair of sleep pants.

Coryo watched as you sat across the room, placing his fountain pen back into its holder after writing down the final name on your baby name list.

After discussing it, you both decided to wait until the baby was born to discover the gender. You wanted to be surprised and Coriolanus just wanted you to be happy.

“Are you going to let me see it, my darling?” Your platinum blonde husband asked as you slowly stood up from his corner desk.

Placing a hand on your large belly, you smiled, “Of course I'm going to let you see it.”

Grabbing the list, you slowly walked over to the bed. After getting into bed, you handed the list to your husband. “Tell me what ones you like, Mister President.”

Coryo kissed your cheek and smiled. “Of course, First Lady Snow.”

He read over the list, only to discover that you had more boys' names than girls written down. After giving it some thought, he told you, “Cassian Xandros is perfect for our son. It's a strong name.” Mulling it over, he pointed to a name on the paper and announced, "Cersei sounds nice for a girl.”

“It's not nice, Coryo, it's beautiful.” You countered, pulling the list out of his hands. “Looks like the baby has a name; all we need to do is wait for it to come.”

The day your daughter Cersei Snow was born was the day that your husband decided to hate her.

The day didn't start out with him hating his baby girl.

No, it started with your water breaking and a trip to the hospital. Coriolanus canceled all of his meetings, briefings, and work for the day just to be by your side.

He was very supportive during your labor. Letting you hold his hand during painful contracts, smoothing your hair back away from your sweaty face with a damp rag, and buzzing the nurse multiple times for both ice chips and pain medication for you.

The nurses all gossiped amongst each other about how President Snow was the perfect doting husband and and father to be. That he'd make a very good father.

Little did they know.

Little did anyone know what would happen once the doctor came into the room and announced that it was time to start pushing.

Coriolanus was by your side as you pushed and pushed. With every push he noticed you were getting weaker and it worried him.

Looking between your weak, pale form, and the doctor that was sitting at the bottom of your bed, Coriolanus asked, “Dr. Wellock, my wife's growing weaker. Is there something you can do to get the baby out?”

“There's nothing to be worried about, President Snow. Labor’s a strenuous event; many first time mothers grow fatigue and can push for a while before the baby crowns.” The doctor told your husband, more or less blowing off his concern.

You were exhausted but determined to have your baby. Even tho you were feeling dizzy, you continued to bear down and push every time you were told to.

Then, when you felt that you didn't have any more strength coursing thru your body, you gave birth to your baby.

You saw Dr. Wellock hold up the baby and announce, “It's a girl.” Suddenly, your vision began to get fuzzy as you heard the doctor ask your husband, “President Snow, would you like to cut the cord?”

Coriolanus was about to answer whenever he saw you faint, paired with blood pooling around your legs and staining the bed.

“What's wrong with my wife?!” Coriolanus asked, fear filling him as the doctor quickly cut the baby's cord and tossed her to a waiting nurse. “Dr. Wellock, is my wife dying?!” Coriolanus asked in a panicked scream, while the nurse quickly cleaned the baby and wrapped her into a blanket.

“Your wife's hemorrhaging, President Snow.” Dr. Wellock told your husband, only to point to the nurse and tell her, “Give him the baby and get him out of here.”

So, the nurse dumped the baby in Coriolanus' arms and pushed him out of the door. Before the president could blink, the door was slammed shut I'm his face.

As Dr. Wellock and his nurse worked to staunch your bleeding; save your life, your husband stood outside of your room with your newborn baby girl in his arms.

Coriolanus looked down at the tiny baby wriggling and crying in his hold, only to look at the door of your room and realize that you're dying because of the thing in his arms.

Cersei’s what the two of you decided to name her, when she wasn't a danger. Wasn't the reason you're dying.

Coriolanus felt disgust and hatred for the newborn in his arms. He didn't want to hold her anymore. She was the reason why you're knear death right now.

So, your husband found a nurse to pawn the baby on.

Coriolanus swore to himself that he'd never touch that evil little creature ever again. That he'd never love her.

It didn't matter if you lived or died, he was going to hate your daughter until the day he died.

You didn't die in childbirth, but it was a close call. The doctor explained that you had bad hemorrhaging due to your uterus not contracting correctly after the birthing process, causing uncontrollable bleeding. You were given a blood transfusion, once Dr. Wellock managed to stop the bleeding, due to your blood pressure being too low after such a large blood loss.

You were out of it for days, but you survived.

You were happy to be alive and with your family. Coriolanus and Cersei.

But it didn't take long for you to notice that Coriolanus never picked up your daughter. He never held her, hell, Coryo never seemed too interested in her.

Unless it was for a photo op. Then he turned into the perfect hands on dad that would pose for pictures. But as soon as the cameras stop flashing, the president stops caring about his daughter.

You thought that Coriolanus would get over it; would come to accept your daughter in time. But…sadly…your daughter's first birthday is fastly approaching and your husband still doesn't seem interested in her, unless it's for a photo op.

It saddened you, knowing that Coriolanus was offish to Cersei because she wasn't the son he probably wanted to carry on the Snow name. You loved your daughter and you were sure that your Coryo loved her too, but was just disappointed that she wasn't the strong son he probably had his heart set on.

He did pick out a boy name right off the bat when you handed him your list of baby names last year.

Maybe if Coryo had a son to carry on the Snow name, he'd be happier in his role of fatherhood?

Coriolanus walked into the sunroom only to cringe when he saw you coddling Cersei. The damn little creature nearly murdered you during the birthing process, but you were holding her as she napped on you.

Goodness, there was a portable cradle in the room for a reason.

“She's nearly a year old, you shouldn't be letting her sleep on you like that.” Coriolanus told you, taking a seat at the small tea table. He never even tried to hide the disgust in his voice.

“There's nothing wrong with holding her, Coryo? She's my baby girl.” You responded, causing your husband to just shake his head while reaching for the teapot that was in the middle of the table.

“She's a toddler now, darling. She's not a baby anymore.” Coriolanus scoffed, pouring himself a cup of tea. “Do you want to have afternoon tea with me, or are you going to coddle Cersei all day?” He asked, grabbing a macaron and placing it onto the small plate that was in front of him.

“I'll have tea with you, Coryo.” You thinly smiled, only to rise from your spot on the sofa and place your daughter into her portable crib.

As you made your way over to the table, your husband fixed you a cup of tea and plated you macarons. When you sat down, you decided that now was the time to bring up the subject of having more children.

Little did you know, after your near death experience, Coriolanus got himself snipped. So…it was impossible for you to have any more children.

But he wasn't going to tell you that.

Reaching for your teacup, you told your husband,“Coryo, I think we should have another baby.”

“No.” Was Coriolanus’ quick and cold reply.

“But, we could have a son this time “ You pressed, knowing that your husband wanted a son. Wanted the Snow name to live on.

But you were wrong. Coriolanus didn't want a son to carry on the Snow name, he wanted you alive to be by his side. He loves you to the point of obsessive possession. The love Coriolanus has for you is all consuming, like a plague of locusts devouring an entire field of crops in District 11.

Coryo took a long sip of his tea, only to cut eyes with you over his teacup and firmly say, “I said no, Y/N.” placing his teacup down, he gave you the lame excuse of, “I'm a very busy man, my little dove. Being president takes much of my time away from my fatherly duties; we can only handle raising one child. More than one would be too much for us, considering you refuse a nanny.”

“I told you when I was pregnant with Cersei that I want to raise our kids. I don't want somebody else raising them, no matter how it might be easier considering your role in politics.”

“My role in politics?” Coriolanus chuckled, biting into his macaron. “I'm the President of Panem, that's more than just a role in politics.”

Sipping on your tea, you sighed, “Fine, Cersei’ll be an only child.”

Grabbing your hand in his, Coryo promised, “Our daughter will never want for anything. She'll be showered in a life of luxury.”

That wasn't true. Your daughter grew up wanting her father's love, but she never got it. Coriolanus was always so distant and cold with Cersei.

She hated him, but that was fine with your husband since he hated her right back.

You always thought that your husband resented your daughter for not being a son, for not being able to carrying on the might and noble Snow name.

But that wasn't the case at all.

Coriolanus Snow hated his daughter, Cersei, because you nearly died in childbirth with her. Nothing would every change that. He'd hate her til the day she died.

At least when your daughter died, it was bringing your beautiful granddaughter into the world.

A granddaughter Coryo named Celeste Snow, since your daughter was unwed at the time of her unexpected death.

Your husband was a better grandfather than he was a father. You thought that he might've felt guilty for being so distant and busy during Cersei’s childhood, that he decided to right his wrongs while you raised Celeste.

Little did you know, Coriolanus loved his granddaughter because she killed her mother in the birthing bed.

President Snow was a horrible, heartless man with a soul darker than a black hole. But at least he loved you and loved his granddaughter.

Too bad he hated his only child her entire life.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

#dark!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coryo snow x reader #coryo x reader #coryo snow fanfiction #thg fanfiction

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aayakashii · 6 months ago

Note

❤3 and ❤42 with Yuri please, I need something fluffy with him right now

3❤️ a kiss on the forehead

42❤️ a clumsy kiss

Warning: this is not a drabble at all but I can't shut up so here take this fic 🫳 also not very proofread YET so I apologize if it's a bit wonky

One thing about Mortkranken’s underground: it’s cold. It makes sense, though. There were tons of biological samples being analyzed by students every single day, so it’s not like it could have a warm and comfortable temperature.

Still, you weren’t expecting it to be so cold.

It was kind of ironic, knowing how Yuri hated the other extremely cold dorm of Darkwick. But while Frostheim was freezing because of its natural weather (or as natural as a place created by an anomalous island could be), Mortkranken had all the air conditioners and freezers to create that artificial bubble of icy and dry climate.

Yuri’s personal office wasn’t exempt from the cold. Despite how spacious it was, the air still hung heavy while a split system blasted glacial wind mercilessly.

You trembled slightly as you went through paper after paper, doing inventory of all of Yuri’s books. Despite being a genius, apparently he couldn’t organize all the dozens of bookshelves he kept carelessly stacked with medical tomes, articles and notes.

Sometimes you wondered if he would just carry on, working in a terribly messy office, if you had never come around and offered your help - which he begrudgingly accepted.

However, it’s not like you were doing that entirely out of the good of your heart. You liked spending time with Yuri, despite how snappy he was, yes. You saw how lonely and starved of appreciation he was and it tugged on your heartstrings. Probably no one ever tried to go past that wall of arrogance he had built for himself as a protection, and you were set on trying to give him a little bit of comfort.

Maybe you also thought that the way his hair fell on his face was very pretty, that his sea-green eyes were gorgeous, and that everytime he blushed you wanted to grab his shoulders and pull him into a kiss so you could watch him have a meltdown and turn into putty in your hands. Yes. Maybe. But that’s not why you were there.

You were there because Frostheim was throwing one of their fancy balls that night and you desperately wanted to escape. You were invited, or better yet, subpoenaed by Jin and Tohma and you wanted nothing to do with it. You already had to deal with a tragic curse, thank you very much. Mingling with stuck up rich students was the last thing you wanted to do.

So, mentally apologizing to Kaito and Luca, you lied through your teeth and said you already had a job to do. At that point, you didn’t; but you found yourself in Yuri’s office, annotating his every dusty book just in case they sent someone to grab you by the hair and drag you to the ball. They wouldn’t try to come close to Mortkranken, after all - too much drama between the captains.

And work you did. Being around a cute doctor was just a bonus.

Yuri scrolled through his phone mindlessly for a few minutes, allowing himself to rest his brain after another day of working until his eyes were crossing. He wasn’t much of a social media guy, but he understood quite well the importance of taking breaks every so often in order to have his thoughts reorganize themselves. Even if he went around and then spent three days wide awake just to compensate for a 15 minute break.

It’s not like he was actually relaxing, however. He was very much aware of your presence in his office, just a few steps away from him, as you organized his books. You had offered yourself to catalog his tomes and clean them up out of nowhere and, despite his hesitance, deep down he was grateful for that. After all, an organized workplace works wonders for inspiration and concentration - he was just… very bad at doing the organization thing when it wasn’t directly related to his duties as a doctor.

He also wasn’t quite sure why you had suddenly offered to spend the evening working, but he just decided to chalk it up to you being grateful for his brilliance and infinite generosity. He DID offer to train you in anomalous medicine, didn’t he? Maybe you were just wise and trying to repay his kindness.

He huffed, a smug smile on his face, clearly satisfied with his own answer, but quickly turned his attention back to his phone after noticing you heard him and looked his way.

After scrolling mindlessly through posts about scientific innovations, articles, new hospitals and a bunch of ads for questionable medicines that claim to cure people of everything and anything at all, Yuri stopped at a photo of a familiar place.

It had been posted only 10 minutes before and showed a grand ballroom, filled with young people in fancy garments and expensive flower bouquets placed in tall vases that decorated every corner. Some people appeared to be dancing, while others chatted with a drink in their hand.

It was a familiar place because he had been in this exact same setting before – it was Frostheim and apparently they were throwing a ball at that very moment.

Yuri's lips curled down in disgust at the sight of the dorm.

“These mindless pricks just can't spend a single day without flaunting their wealth, can they?” Yuri grumbled audibly, scowling at his phone.

“Did you say something, Yuri?” you asked, turning to face him while you meticulously noted down another batch of book titles in your handbook.

“These wannabe nobles from Frostheim!” he spat “They can't do a single useful thing for society, but still try to intimidate others by showing off how rich they are! Disgusting!” Yuri slammed his phone on the desk, getting up from his seat, and pranced around the large room, as if he could not contain his anger quietly.

He didn't quite understand the reasoning behind his own anger. All he knew was that he felt enraged, an ironically icy feeling crawling up his chest. And that he needed a Frostheim student in front of him right at that moment so he could punch them. Too bad he was so physically weak.

“Oh, are you talking about the ball they're throwing today?” you asked, nonchalantly.

Yuri stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around towards you, an expression of disgust and betrayal on his face.

How would you even know about this ball? Frostheim prided in excluding everyone else that didn't wear that godawful blue lapel pin from every social event. So how would you, a puny little student with no association to any dorm at all, know about a big event such as that ball?

Yuri chose to blatantly ignore your friendships with Luca and Kaito for the benefit of his own theory.

You swallowed hard, realizing by his behavior that you probably should not have said that at all.

“How do you know about that ball?!” he said, through gritted teeth.

You cleared your throat.

“Um… I heard Luca and Kaito mention it earlier today…”

Yuri slowly walked towards you, as if he was a predator gauging your movements in order to know when to attack.

“Lies. I see how you are blinking fast. You also have flared nostrils and you are unconsciously biting your lips! Body language 101! You cannot fool a doctor like me, I see everything!”

You sighed.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I was invited.” you mumbled, grabbing a tome and wiping the dust from its cover, avoiding Yuri's accusatory gaze.

His jaw went slack. His theory was correct then, after all! But of course it was. He was Yuri Isami, the captain of Mortkranken and the best doctor on that campus. Of course he was correct.

And so you were indeed a filthy traitor.

“Oh, so you're so connected to that despicable dorm that you were even INVITED to their ball?!” How dare you, he wanted to say, how dare you give them the time of the day when HE– when Mortkranken was the one doing all the important work in that place.

You raised an eyebrow at Yuri's dramatics, side-eyeing him while you still dusted books.

“Darkwick made me the inspector, remember? I have to have proper relationships with every single dorm and it's not like I want that either. It's all because of my curse.”

Yuri scoffed, throwing his arms up in disbelief.

“As if you need anything else besides Mortkranken's assistance! We are the only ones who are qualified to undo your curse once and for all! And yet, you still mingle with those Frostheimers…” he clenched his fists.

“Yuri, I think you're forgetting the fact that I chose not to go to the ball and spend my night here organizing your books.” you wiggled a book on your hand to make your point clearer, fully turning towards him.

That little detail seemed to have finally been processed in Yuri's mind right after you said it.

He went silent, staring at you with narrowed eyes. As if he didn't trust you yet. As if you could stab him in the back as soon as he turned around.

You sighed, putting the book on the shelf and then resting your hands on your hips.

“Why are you so angry at them for throwing a ball? You know they always do that.”

He didn't know why he was angry, actually. It was like Frostheim was a trigger word for him. He heard it and fury just freely ran through his veins like molten iron. It burned and hurt because he didn't know why it felt like that.

He just did.

It wasn't in Yuri's nature to be quiet. To be speechless. And when he didn't answer your question, you knew something deep, deeper than you could reach, had been brewing for too long.

He stood still like a statue, mouth pressed in a thin line as he turned your question around in his mind, like he would an unsolved rubrik cube. Only this time, he wasn't able to finish it in record time like he used to finish all of his real cubes.

You took a deep breath.

“Look.” you snapped him out of his daze “I'm gonna prove to you that balls are boring and that you aren't missing anything.”

You knew he wasn't upset because of FOMO, but seeing him struggle with his thoughts like that made you pity him just a little bit. So you would pretend, for now.

You went to his desk and grabbed your phone, scrolling through something.

“What are you planning to do?” he observed your movements, still as tense as ever.

“What's your favorite song again? It's The Blue Danube Waltz, by Strauss isn't it?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes… I'm surprised a worm like you knows classical music and– no, what does this have to do with anything?” he asked, baffled at the sudden change of topic.

You walked towards him, gaze locked at your phone.

“You like waltzes then. Okay, then this one will have to do.”

You clicked on something on your phone and placed it carefully on one of the bookrack's shelves. Soon enough, some music started playing on the phone's speakers.

Yuri stared dumbly at the hand you were holding out towards him.

“What is this?”

“It's the Masquerade Waltz, by Aram Khachaturian.” You replied flatly, shoving your hand closer to his face.

“I- I know that!” Yuri sputtered, defensively “I want to know what you're doing!”

You shrugged, smirking at your own silly idea that seemed to have badly thrown him off “I want to prove to you how balls are kinda stupid when you can very well just waltz as much as you want at home. Come on. Dance with me?”

Yuri blinked, still staring at your hand.

“W-why should I?!”

“Well… you'll have the satisfaction of doing something Jin wanted to do but can't because I'm here.”

He immediately grabbed your hand, all hesitation left behind. You laughed and restarted the song.

“You better dance properly, worm!”

“I promise nothing.”

Yuri's hands were hot. He had them stuffed in his black gloves like always, but they seemed even warmer against your skin as you held him firmly.

He knew very well all of the waltz etiquette, of course. He was a cultured, refined man who knew how to be a proper partner when dancing with someone in a ballroom. He knew he was supposed to maintain eye contact with his dance partner.

But goddamn it, was it hard to keep looking into your eyes. Even though you weren't always looking at him – as expected of an impolite worm – whenever your eyes met, he felt his insides stir and he wondered in passing if he had to start taking some type of anxiety medication.

Sometimes he'd relax for a second when you looked down at your feet to count 1, 2 ,3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4. He used that moment to breathe deeply and then grimace at how shaky his exhale sounded.

His heart drummed inside his ribcage, and he hoped you'd keep your little grubby fingers far away from his radial artery, otherwise you'd feel how fast his heart was beating. He couldn't have you thinking he was nervous. He wasn't nervous! The situation was just… unexpected.

And then you started humming along with the song.

Yuri swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and cleared his throat.

“You… you like this waltz?” he managed to say. He shoved the thought that you sounded cute, humming a song just like he always did, deep, deep inside the corners of his mind.

You widened your eyes for a second.

“Oh! I was humming, wasn't I? Sorry. But yeah, it's my favorite. I guess I can't say I don't understand you when you hum too” you laughed nervously.

The both of you kept on clumsily stepping side to side, front to back, as the song reached its last notes.

Yuri knew the song was ending, and his anxiety peaked. It was like he wanted something to happen – no, like he needed to do something, but he didn't know what it was.

His stomach churned as the song faded out, and your feet came to a halt. Your hand left his own, and so did the one on his shoulder. He could feel the warmth of your body leaving him as he forced himself to step back.

You cleared your throat and gave him an exaggerated curtsy, lifting the hem of an imaginary dress.

“Thank you so much for this dance, Lord Isami” you said with a grin, in a fake posh accent.

And after that, it was like he became possessed by some trickster spirit who had it out for him.

Yuri didn't really know what thought process led him to suddenly grab your shoulders and awkwardly place his lips on your forehead, but when you gasped under him, he finally came back to his senses.

“GAH! I don't know why I did that!” he yelled, taking a few long steps back and away from you.

He stared at his own hands, like they were monsters with a life of their own. Some cruel, awful things that made him act on an impulse he didn't even know he had.

His thoughts ran wild and tumbled one over the other, each and every one yelling some reasoning for his stupid actions and turning his mind into a deafening cacophony that made his head fuzzy and his ears ring.

“Um...” you voiced out, and Yuri finally looked at you again, quickly halting his spiral towards a panic attack. His eyes fluttered, taking in the sight in front of him.

You covered your cheeks with your hands, looking to the side as you pressed your lips in a thin line. Yuri swore he could see the ghost of a smile on the corner of your lips, gone in the blink of an eye.

Yuri was screwed. That immediately became the only thought that blared inside his brain after looking at you, all flustered and embarrassed.

“I'm screwed” he murmured unconsciously and you had the gall to chuckle.

“Sorry?” you asked, a smile warming your voice in a way that made Yuri dizzy.

He shook his head, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, and took a deep breath.

“You can go to your quarters now. Continue your work here later.” he announced, secretly celebrating how his voice sounded stable again.

You slowly grabbed your phone, still smiling like you knew something he didn't. Preposterous.

“Okay.” you replied, without much protest.

Yuri watched as you picked up the rest of your belongings and made the way towards his door.

“I hope I convinced you of all that stuff we talked about, by the way. See you tomorrow, Yuri” you said, looking over your shoulder before you left.

Yuri had absolutely no idea of what you were even talking about. All he knew was that his room was hot. He felt incredibly hot and his heart still hammered mercilessly inside his ribs. Was he having a heat stroke? Yeah, maybe it was that. Maybe he was having a heat stroke because you made him dance and sweat when he didn't need to.

He looked at the thermometer under his AC.

It read 5°C/40°F.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #yuri isami #tokyo debunker yuri isami #drabble event #ask

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villainous-homosexual · 5 months ago

Text

My Pleasure

Danny was never fond of Chick fil A. He always heard about their rampant homophobia and conservative Christian politics. Danny considered himself liberal on most issues and his parents were atheists which means he wasn't circumcised. But today he was feeling extra hungry and decided to give it a shot.

He pulled up to the drive-thru and opened his car window. But before he could start ordering, a strong masculine voice began speaking.

"You are late for work, boy"

Danny was shocked by this. It was an unusual thing to say to a customer.

"You must be mistaken. I'm a custo..."

The masculine voice spoke again.

"SILENCE, BOY"

"Pull up to the employee parking and park your car. Then walk into the building."

Before Danny could protest he found himself mindlessly obeying the command.

"My pleasure, sir" he said in a dull tone of voice

Danny began panicking as he walk into the building. His body was acting against his will. But his mind was still conscious.

The second Danny walked through the door he was greeted by a stern muscular man in a grey polo shirt. His nametag had "General Manager" written on it.

"You are out of uniform" the man said

"Follow me into my office and I will suit you"

"My pleasure, sir" Danny said mindlessly

Danny's boss walk him into the manager's office and locked the door behind him. He then proceeded to undress Danny.

Danny stood there unable to move as his boss pulled off his civilian clothes and dressed him in proper a Chick fil A employee uniform. Danny's muscles began to grow and spasm as each article of clothing was placed on his body.

His chest muscles ballooned up and his abs became much more pronounced. As his boss dressed him he also felt his memories of civilian life slipping away. All those years of voting democrat and liberal beliefs were gone. Replaced by a new conservative Christian worldview.

His boss looked pleased now.

"That's my good boy. You look very dapper now."

He grabbed a nametag from his desk and clipped it onto Samuel's red polo uniform. The nametag read "Samuel- Assistant Manager"

"I'm glad I decided to add you to our growing family" Samuel's boss said

"I'm feeling rather hungry, sir" Samuel said

Samuel's boss handed him a white cup

"This is our signature peach milkshake. Our secret ingredient is what makes it so addictive." He said with a wink

"I don't understand, sir. What is the secret ingredient?"

Samuel's boss unzipped his pants to reveal a thick girthy circumcised penis. He then unzipped Samuel's pants to reveal a similar thick circumcised penis.

"We make the secret ingredient in our ballsacks. The reason we are closed on Sunday is so we can harvest the secret ingredient."

"So we worship the LORD by masturbating?" Asked Samuel

"Yes, my son. Jesus Christ himself blessed our cum. Now it is our duty as devout Christians to spread his blessing through our food."

Samuel felt a thrill run through his penis. He couldn't wait to start spreading the blessings of his LORD Jesus Christ.

The next day he was assigned to work the cash register. "Your pleasure is my pleasure"

#straight to gay #male transformation #gay to straight #jockification #male tf #muscle gay #homophobia #southernization #atheist to christian #chick fil a #brainwashed #mind control #fast food #good boi #bible #uncircumcised to circumcised #circumcised penis #southern baptist #hypnosis

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tuesdaykiss · 28 days ago

Text

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part - 20 | 21 | 22

masterlist

the evening after sarah’s fashion show was a blur of flashing lights, applause, and mingling with the industry’s elite. but as the night wound down and you returned to the hotel, the buzz online was impossible to ignore.

you sat on the edge of the bed in the hotel room you were sharing with sarah, scrolling through your phone. article after article speculated about your connection with rafe, all because he was sarah cameron’s brother: “caught on camera: rafe and his new flame?”, “fashion show sparks new couple rumours” and “rafe cameron’s new mystery lady — who is she?”.

your stomach churned as you read the comments beneath the posts. some were kind, calling you beautiful or lucky, but others were so cruel… dissecting everything from your appearance to your worthiness to being with ‘the internet’s boyfriend’, rafe cameron.

“stop reading that, y/n,” sarah said gently from across the room. she was perched in front of the mirror, wiping away her makeup after kicking her heels off at the door.

“i can’t help it,” you muttered, locking your phone and holding it clutched in your hand tightly, “it’s everywhere.”

sarah turned to look at you, her expression softening, “that’s just how the internet is these days, they hyper fixate in a person and everyone they come close to.”

you sighed, dropping your phone onto the bed as you sighed, “i didn’t think it would be like this. i didn’t even think about what people would say — i mean he’s not exactly famous!”

sarah got up and crossed the room, sitting beside you on the bed. “hey,” she said, nudging your shoulder with hers, “it’s a lot, i know… trust me, i went through this with john b. but you’re strong. and if this is what you want, if he’s what you want, you can handle it.”

you hesitated, your fingers playing with the hem of your sleeve, “ i do want him,” you admitted. “but it’s scary — what if this is all too much?”

sarah smiled softly, brushing your hair out of your face, “then you take it one step at a time, together. and tonight? i think you should stay with him.”

“what?” you blinked, take aback.

“go to rafe’s room,” sarah said, her voice firm but kind, “you’ve had a crazy day, and i know he’s dying to see you, again. plus, i can tell you’re overthinking. being with him will help, and then tomorrow we can go back to outerbanks and forget.”

“are you sure?” your voice was uncertain.

“absolutely,” sarah said with a grin, “and don’t worry about me. i’m ordering room service and then i’ll facetime john b and tell him all about today… go!”

her encouragement gave you the push you needed. you quickly changed into something more comfortable, grabbed your things, and headed down the hall to rafe’s room.

the knock on rafe’s hotel room door felt heavier than it should have, your hand lingering on the wood a moment too long before you finally knocked. the weight of the day — and the worries that were swirling your mind following the fashion show — made you feel like you could potentially crumble at any moment.

the door opened almost immediately, revealing rafe in sweatpants — his chest on full display. his hair was messy, his face soft with concern as he took in your figure.

“hey,” he said gently, stepping aside and inviting you in.

“hey,” you murmured back, slipping into his room.

the place was dimly lit, cozy, and the scent of his cologne lingered faintly in the air, you set your things on a nearby chair and turned to face him.

“i’m sorry to just… show up,” your voice trembling as you spoke, “it’s just — everything today… i don’t know if i can do this, rafe.”

he took a step closer, his expression softening, “do what?”

“all of it,” you began to ramble, gesturing vaguely, “the articles, the comments, the way people are looking at me now — like i’m just some accessory to you, i’m not my own person. and then there’s topper. he doesn’t even know yet and i just — i can’t help but worry about how he’ll react.”

rafe’s brows knitted with concern, “you don’t have to be sorry,” he said softly. “come here.”

before you could protest, his arms were around you, pulling you into his chest. his chin rested lightly on the top of you head, and for a moment, you let yourself melt into him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you.

“i know it feels like that right now,” he spoke up again, his thumbs brushing over you knuckles, “but you’re not alone in this. you’ve got me and i’m not going anywhere.”

you look up at him, your eyes meeting his. “i’ve always been the kind of person who doesn’t need help,” your admitted, “not from my family, not from my friends. but with you… i don’t know, it’s different. i kind of… like having you here.”

he smiled softly, his lips quirking up at the corners. “kind of?” he teased, attempting to lighten the mood.

“don’t make me regret saying it,” you let out a small laugh, shaking your head.

“i wouldn’t dare,” he said, his voice warm.

you sighed, your smile fading slightly… the moment only short-lived. “but i keep thinking… what the hell am i doing? what are we doing? this whole thing is getting so messy… and i don’t even know where it’s going.”

“we don’t have to have it all figured out,” he said, his presence suddenly feeling quite grounding, “we just have to know what we want right now. and for me? that’s you.”

you smiled at him, allowing yourself to fall into his bed, as he settled the blanket over you, “you make it sound so simple.”

“maybe it is,” he reassured, his voice full of certainty, as he joined you in the bed.

your toes brushed against his as you shifted slightly to move closer to him; the small, accidental gesture caused you to pause. he noticed it too, a smile tugging at his lips as he nudged your foot with him.

“you’re stuck with me now,” he laughed.

you couldn’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through your chest despite your lingering worries, “i think i’m okay with that.”

as you lay beside him, your head on his chest and his arm around you, the chaos of the day felt a little farther away. his foot remained brushing against yours under the blanket, the small, tender action reminding you of how close he was, even in the quietest moments.

“good, because i’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair, “and when we tell topper — or anyone else — we’ll do it together. whatever comes next, we’ll face it… together. one step at a time.”

you closed your eyes, letting the steady rise and fall of his chest lull you into calm. “one step at a time,” you echoed, your voice barely a whisper.

the weight of the day hadn’t disappeared, but in this moment, it felt a little easier to carry.

a/n: given the severe lack of social media in this chapter, i ended it with some visuals!

back to obx in the next chapter woohoo

taglist: @my-name-is-baby @yesshewrites1 @urbrunettebombshell @leather-n-velvet @fruitcakerafe @littlefreak-liz @wdwbts101 @akobx @lossfairy @marleymarleymarleymarley @jjmaybankmylovee @mbella607 @scream4mami @mrsdrewstarkeyy @honeyluvsatj

#dividers by pommecita #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smau #outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe x reader #smau #social media #outerbanks rafe #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe fic

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fruitglazed · 1 year ago

Note

WHAT KIND OF RECS

rough sex w matt pls im in heatttttttttttt

I hope this makes your pussy throb. ୨⍣୧

♡

Turning off the water, you open the shower door, grabbing the towel you placed on the counter. Wrapping it over your body, you hear a ding. Checking your phone, it reads “See you at 6pm, pretty girl.” Confirmation text from Matt, your boyfriend of a few months. Followed by another ding, you glance down at your phone again. “Bro, I’m right next to you, no need to text me.” His brother Chris sent back. Chuckling to yourself, you dry both your hands off on the towel around your frame. “See you boys tonight. And Nick, what’re you wearing?” Pressing send, you smile to yourself. Our hebdomadal dinner was a go tonight. The four of you decided on a fancy Steakhouse. One of your favorites in particular. Expensive, but yummy. It was Matt’s turn to pay. You love to watch Matt get riled up whenever Chris would order almost the entire menu since he wasn’t in charge of the bill this time. Running out of the bathroom after finishing your hair and makeup, you head into your room browsing through your closet. With another ding from your phone- “White tank top and my corduroy striped pants. The purple ones.” Loving the message, you threw your phone on the bed. Time to get to work. Stripping each article of clothing you had from its place, you managed to decide on a simple satin dress. Eggshell shade, buttons on one side, starting from the hip, down to the slit of the dress. Not too short, just the perfect length. Thin spaghetti straps, hanging over your shoulders. The dress fit you in all the right places. To compliment Nick, you found a pair of open toed purple sandals. Adding on all your gold accessories, you look at the clock. 5:49pm. Dousing yourself with your favorite smell, you head back into your room and grab your phone. As you scroll through, you press Matt’s contact to give him a call. “Hey, baby. What’s up?” Matt says. “Just finished getting ready, I can’t wait to see you tonight. I’m wearing a pretty dress for you, I hope you’ll take it off of me later.” You breathe out. Almost moaning. You and Matt were like wild animals when it came to sex. Time and place didn’t matter. Matt’s breathing became louder as he spoke into the phone. “You don’t have to ask me twice. Should I just cancel dinner and come do it now?” Laughing you said you wouldn’t mind. Matt could fuck you any time he pleased, and you’d thank him. You weren’t shy when it came to him touching and fucking you. “I think we should role play tonight.” You suggested. This was one of your favorites to do with Matt. He thought it was fun, especially since you always got into character. “Sure, baby. That sounds like fun. We’re on our way to get you now.” Cheerfully, Matt had responded back. “See you soon, baby.” Blowing a kiss over the phone, you hung up.

Luckily the drive to your place from theirs, was only 2 minutes give or take. You locked up the house and walked to the end of the driveway. Pulling up, you see Matt in the drivers seat, and Chris in the passenger seat. Chris hops out of the door to offer you the front, but you decline and slip into the backseat next to Nick. “Hi boys! Are we ready for dinner this evening?” You exclaim. “Oh yes girl. Chris has been pissing me off all day because he’s hungry. Literally at any point he could’ve gotten a snack and just shut the fuck up.” Nick huffed out, smacking his lips. “Nick, shut up. You know I don’t eat much when it’s not my tab I have to worry about.” Chris spoke, rubbing his hands together, with a menacing laugh, all the while he stares down Matt. Smiling to yourself, you know Matt’s going to punch Chris when he sees the bill. “Hi, Matt. Ready for dinner?” I say in his direction. He eyeballs me through the mirror, taking turns looking at the road, then me. “Mhm.” His throat vibrates out. Hm. He must be getting into character already. You shrug and spark up a conversation with Nick and Chris. Once arrived at the Steakhouse, you all shuffle in and pick your seats. Matt goes on the opposite side of the table, across from Nick. Pulling the chair out from the table for you, expecting you to sit next to him, and Chris to sit with Nick, you decline again. You plop down right next to Chris, taking Nick’s usual spot. Furrowing his eyebrows, Matt stops and stares at you. With a blank look on his face, not taking his eyes off you, “Nick, sit next to me.” Leaves Matt’s lips. Nick puts his hands up and nods, sitting down next to him. Matt takes his seat still with his eyes locked on you. Staring back, not intimidated by him, you smile and make sure everyone has a menu. “Okay…” Chris says, breaking the tension between the Matt and I. “Yeah, what’s the deal?” Nick pipes in. “Nothing! I’m totally cool. I’m excited for tonight, I’m hungry and I’m with my best friends. Besides, it’s all on Matt, tonight.” A smirk creeping onto your lips. Nick and Chris giggle, while Matt is still monotone. Just before anyone can say anything else, a waitress stops by to take the tables order. “Hi there, welcome in! what can I get started for drinks for you all?” She says, pulling out her pen and notepad. “I’ll take an ice water with lemon. Thanks sweetheart.” Matt says smiling, looking from her straight to you, but dropping the smile. “Uh, yeah. We’ll do 3 more of those. Thanks!” Nick quickly says, hurriedly getting the waitress away from the table. You look at Matt, biting your lip almost laughing in disbelief. Looking back at your menu, skimming all the possibilities, the waitress appears with the lemon water and some bread and butter. As she’s setting them down on the table, she takes her hand and caresses Matt’s shoulder. Watching his every move from behind your menu, you roll your eyes. “Thanks again, sweetheart.” Matt repeats, this time with more of a flirtatious tone. Two can play at this game. Ignoring them and rescanning the menu, Chris leans over next to you- “Oh, by the way, you look very pretty tonight. You clean up nice, kid.” He says, innocently. You look up from your menu and glance at Matt, then turning to Chris. “Aww thanks Chris. That’s so sweet of you. I must say you’re looking rather handsome yourself.” You wink at him, bringing your hand up to his face just underneath his chin, giving his cheeks a little squeeze. You blow a kiss at him, then bring your eyes back to Matt. Anything goes when you role play. You can tell he’s seething in his chair. Trying not to make it obvious that it clearly had an effect on him. “I’ll be right back you guys, I’m going to the bathroom.” You excuse yourself and head to the ladies room. Once you find the bathrooms, you head in. Looking in the mirror, thinking to yourself this is not how tonight is supposed to go. In an instant the bathroom door flies open. Matt enters, locking the door behind him. “What the fuck was that?” He says harshly. Almost anything goes when you role play.

Playing dumb, you respond. “What was what, sweetheart?” Matt is two inches from your face. “You know what.” Sternly and not holding back, he gets even closer. “I pick you up, and you get in the back? We get here, you don’t sit next to me? Now you’re out there getting cute with Chris?” His chest is now touching yours. Not saying a word, you just look up at him. “He might look like me, but he can’t fuck like me.” Matt says brazenly. Your cheeks burn. Your core is on fire. Staring into his eyes, his pupils widen, getting darker by the second. Trying to slow your breathing down, you shrug. “Turn around. Now.” Matt flips you around, both of you looking at yourselves in the mirror. His dick outlined through his pants, grazing your ass. You softly moan to yourself. “Don’t make a sound unless I fucking tell you to.” Matt replies. Pressing his hand on your back, he pushes your chest to the cold counter. Matt brings his hands up your thighs to the buttons on your dress. In a motion he tears at your dress, buttons flying everywhere. All you can do is stare at him. “Good girl.” He breathes out. Pulling up your dress to the small of your back, exposing your ass and glistening pussy. “No panties? And you’re already soaked? I haven’t even touched you. You’re such a slut for me.” Dropping to his knees, he’s face first with your core. He drags his thumb up and down your cunt. Standing back up behind you, he shoves his finger in his mouth, licking it clean. Unbuckling his pants with one hand, they fall to the floor. Without warning, he shoves his cock deep inside you with no time to adjust. “Matt!” You yell out, forgetting what he just said. “Shut the fuck up.” He grits through his teeth. Matt takes his hands and wraps them around your throat, slightly squeezing each time you make a noise. Holding onto the sink, you could feel his rage with each stroke. Tears forming in the corner of your eyes from the pain, yet pleasure he’s enduring on your tight little pussy. “Don’t you ever think about sitting next to anyone else but me. Don’t ever touch anyone else but me. Next time, I’ll fuck you in front of them. Show them what’s mine.” The sound of moans and his hips slapping against your ass is definitely loud enough to hear from outside the bathroom. “Who fucks you like this, huh? Whose pussy is this.” Matt grabs ahold of your face, lining it up with the mirror. Watching him use you, sliding his cock in and out, making you take him deeper and deeper with every breath he breathes. Looking him in the eyes, you whisper out through tears “It’s yours, Matthew. This is your pussy.” A moan leaves your lips. Eyes rolling in the back of your head. Speeding up his thrusts, he’s hate fucking you, you can barely form a sentence. “Matt, I can’t take it-“ Throwing your head back. Matt grabs your hips, guiding your body with his slams into you. Clenching his member with your walls, you wish he could be buried in you forever. Your wetness leaking down your legs, hoping that he will lick it up afterwards. “Gonna fuck my load right into that cunt of yours. You’re gonna take every last drop.” His voice was dark. His thrusts began to slow, but he was still in control. Pumping in and out of you once more, he came in an instant. Matt pulled out and immediately crouched down, staring at your sweetly filled pussy. Watching his cum drizzle out of you, he took two of his fingers and stuffed it right back inside, swirling it around. Once he was satisfied, he brought his fingers up to your lips and shoved them in. Observing you suck the conjoined juices off his fingers, made him ready to fuck you again. Matt placed a sweet kiss on your lips and fixed your dress. Buckling his pants and running his hand through his hair, he grabbed your hand. “Let’s go baby, we have a dinner to ever back to.” He smiled back at you. Almost like he didn’t just fuck you senseless in your favorite Steakhouse’s bathroom. Walking out hand in hand from the women’s restroom, you get back to the table.

“Nick, do you mind if I trade seats with you?” You say, still holding onto Matt’s hand. Nick stands up and lets you sit, scooting the chair in for you. Chris and Nick both look at you and Matt, and then back at each other, laughing. “What?” Matt scoffs. “Oh nothing, just wondering if you love birds squashed the beef you had, or if you needed to go back to the bathroom for round 2?” Chris cackled. “Oh my god, you heard that?” You gasped. I mean you knew, but you didn’t want to believe it. “Oh sweetheart, everyone heard it.” Nick added. Rolling your eyes while giggling to yourself, Matt leans over to you. “I’ll be ready for round two when we get home.”

♡

hiiiiiii…,,,,,,,, so I feel like I got sloppy at the end. >:-( ! anyways hope this was good enough 4 u anon <3 thank u 4 requesting this. Let me know anything yall want me to make come to LIFE! Mwah 💋

#fruitglazed #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolos #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher owen sturniolo #nicolas antonio sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader

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