#they've asked him really good questions
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ansonmountdaily · 1 year ago
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Anson Mount for Instyle Magazine
Promoting Star Trek: Strange New Worlds Season 2, Anson did an interview and a photoshoot for Instyle, titled "Anson Mount Is Leading With Heart", written by Christopher Luu, June 14 2023. He talks about Star Trek, his past roles, personal life, hobbies and favourites. Read full article here.
Photography by Mark Elzey.
Source: Instyle article (includes video interview!) + Instagram
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bats-and-the-birds · 7 months ago
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There are a lot of fics about the Justice League finding out about Batman's children via a series of circumstances leading to Nightwing joining the League (usually against Batman's will)
and I LOVE this trope, don't get me wrong, but I'd like to imagine a situation where it doesn't happen like that. I want a situation where Nightwing joins the League, but he and Batman play it off well enough that the JL doesn't put them together. They notice that they work well together, sure, and Batman seems to trust Nightwing easier than the other new members, but no one questions it because Nightwing is good.
And the JL reaches a point where it's been months or even years and they still don't know.
Until Nightwing gets hurt. They've seen him hurt before, but he gets hurt. Bleeding out, affected by fear toxin, whatever, the point is, he's in bad shape. And Nightwing - strong, crooked grin, happy facade - screams. He screams for his dad - a word that he never uses, but that doesn't matter now, because he's scared, and he's hurt, and he just wants to go home.
And nobody knows what to do. Every single League member very quickly realizes that they know nothing about this guy. Everyone wonders about Batman because he seems so mysterious, but Nightwing always seemed so open, and it's only in that moment that they realize they have no actual information on him.
But that only last for a split second, because, of course Batman reacts first. He runs to his side and starts to stabilize his injuries while assuring him in a voice that they've never heard before, a voice that is distinctly not his Batman growl, that he's right there and it's all going to be okay.
And Nightwing... well, he stops calling out for his father. And he doesn't stay in the watchtower infirmary after that. When they ask Batman where he took him, he just tells them home.
Nightwing's back a few months later, and that's when they start asking him if he's really Batman's kid, and he just smiles the same crooked grin and says, Of course. You didn't know?
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acid-ixx · 3 months ago
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a loving family, an unpalatable desire
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reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.
imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.
you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.
you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.
really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.
yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.
the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.
but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.
you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.
yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.
you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.
you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.
maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.
and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.
''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.
and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.
you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.
your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—
it's everything a parent wants, needs even.
and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.
so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.
a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.
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monstersflashlight · 3 months ago
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If I'm not pushing my luck, can you write something about you being the first hairy person that an elf has been with? Cause I was thinking about it and what if the first human(s) they've been with all shaved and they thought it was standard for us like it was for them, having no hair and all? I really do think they would be both confused and very curious/enthusiastic about it. And what if you were a bit self conscious about it too? 😪 Thank you I'm in love with your stories!!
Hi there! For everyone who hastn't read it, here's the question that started this idea. Enjoy!
Full bush
Elf x fem!reader || oral sex, pussy worship, body hair appreciation
When you got together you thought he already knew all he needed to know about humans. He was with a couple humans before you, two males and one female, so you thought he already knew... But you were wrong.
First time he saw you naked he stared. And stared. And stared some more to the point you got self conscious about it and ended up putting your clothes back on. You slept very unconfortab that night, and he said nothing. You might have cried a tiny bit. Next day he stared at you even with your clothes on, his eyes fixated in your genitals as you looked at him like he was the weird one (which he was). Later that day he broke down and asked you why did you have hair, if it was some kind of birth defect. You almost threw him out the house, but you breathed deeply and proceeded to explain to him that humans had body hair, that it was normal. He then explained that his previous humans had shaved or something because they were as hairless as elves and that's why he was so surprised when you took off your clothes. You understood his reasoning, but you were still a bit self-conscious, human culture already told you it was bad for you to have body hair, but you weren't about to let your elf boyfriend get away with it, too.
So you didn't take your clothes in front of him. Every time you slept together you put your pj's, not looking at him, and went to sleep with that. You weren't a fan of sleeping with clothes, but a woman had to do what a woman had to do. You could feel him hard behind you, but you weren't ready to face that disappointment and staring at your full bush.
But he wasn't having any of that.
By the fifth time you stayed at his house, he stopped you as you were getting undressed. You looked up at him in surprise, just to see his face flushed and a big tent in his sweatpants. "I- I want to see you," he stuttered.
"What?" You asked, your shirt halfway up your torso.
"I- I want to see your body hair," he confessed in a low tone. He looked so cute at the moment, but you were so fucking confused. You thought he hated your body hair.
You couldn't get the surprise out of your voice: "You do?"
"Yes. I- I liked it." He grabbed his dick and readjusted it, the tip pocking at the waistband of his sweatpants. Your mouth was salivating just looking at him shirtless and with those sinful grey sweatpants.
"You liked it?" You asked, your whole body vibrating with anticipation.
"Very much so..." He said, lowering his pants to let you see his erection already leaking profusely. You licked your lips and got undressed.
He stared and stared, and when your panties were finally on the ground, he licked his lips like you were his next snack. And good goddess if you weren't. He threw you on the bed and went down on you for hours. Your legs trembling around his head as he went to town and told you how great you were, how good you tasted and how glad he was that he discovered you had body hair. He sounded mesmerized by the fact and it made you blush as hard as ever as you came against his lips again.
By the time he was done, there was a pool of your juices under you and his face was completely drenched, but what surprised you more was the puddle of cum under him. You asked and he blushed hard, running to the bathroom to get you a towel.
Later, you discovered that he got so excited about you and your body hair and your pussy that he came at least four times while he ground against the mattress and eat you out. It was so hot thinking he got so worked up just by you being you that you had to push him down and blow him until he was crying.
You've never been so glad of his elf stamina.
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evilminji · 1 year ago
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Actually? You know what would be darkly hilarious?
If, when the GIW can't get ghosts declared both malicious AND non-sapient/sentient? They push for "dumb animals" instead.
Which is accepted. Ghosts are animals. Checks out, says scientists everywhere.
HOW "dumb"?
What? Says the GIW, mid-victory high fives. They did not expect a follow up question. They SHOULD have, as this is the SCIENTIFIC community and that is literally their job, but here we are.
How. "Dumb"? The scientists repeate slower. What methodology did you use? What is your sample size? Are their different sub-species? Is this dimension like ours? Is Ghost the equivalent to Mammal? It says here their are humanoid ones.
What IQ are we talking about here and HOW DID YOU TEST??
A goldfish, parrot, and dolphin are all animals. WILDLY different levels of intelligence. You can't treat them the same. Technically speaking, WE are animals.
The GIW does not like where this conversation is going. Tries to shut it down.
.......well NOW the scientists are both offended AND invested. How DARE you try to push faulty science and hide the Truth from them! They're gonna do their OWN studies! *picks up the phone and dials that one embarrassing spiritualist friend they had in college* Hey! You still think you can summon ghosts? I'll pay you to try it for Science!
And like? As a Ghost? It's degrading as hell. But ALSO these fuckos just Whoopsie'd you into having both protections under the law, since animal abuse IS illegal, AND just put the ENTIRE planets scientific community on their asses.... by accident.
So you take a deeeeeeep breath you don't even need. Remember you're doing this for the little ghost babies and fluffy ghost animals. And show up at a research facility like "yes, hello, I am Ghost. Here for you to poke and prod at. Please ask me to name the object on the flash card or whatever IQ tests do these days."
Should you HAVE to prove your own fucking sentience? No. But? You do it. You're even polite about it. Ask for a copy of the study they plan to publish so you can BEAT some mother fuckers with it. The scientists nod in understanding and use the BIG font for your copy so it'll hurt more.
They've been there.
And just? Shitty people getting what they wanted only to have it blow up in their faces?? I see all these angst "but what if they were declared ANIMALS" prompts and I just?? Are we talking PARROT or goldfish!? One has the average intelligence of about a human 4yr old and the other is a FISH! People get RIGHTFULLY furious when you treat INTELLIGENT animals badly.
And would, in fact, adapt pretty easy to discovering one of said animal has become HUMAN lvl intelligent. It's easy to grasp the idea of human intelligence lvl dolphin or monkeys. Maybe there was some mutated strain, maybe in uetro tampering. Who knows. But if I tried to sell you a human intelligent housefly? Gold fish? Lizard?
You wouldn't believe me. There is some kind of trick at play.
So if GHOSTS are seen as animals? Everyone nods and then later? Someone comes in TV and very excitedly informs you "we found INTELLIGENT LIFE amongst the ghosts!" You'd believe it. Probably be really excited by your conversation starter for the day. Get a taco and move on with your life.
But? Having to willing sit for a barrage of testing? Is going to suuuuuuck so bad. Poor Danny. SATs all over again. For HOURS. At multiple facilities, just to be CERTAIN it's not a one off. All because he not certain he can insure good behavior from other ghosts and This Is IMPORTANT. He ALSO can't be certain it's even SAFE.
Might be a trap.
But if he has to do it again and again and again? Mexico to Bavaria to China to the Maldives? If this is what it takes for the scientific community to bitchslap the GIW into ORBIT before the UN? Hand him that pencil.
He has no where more important to be.
@hdgnj @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation @ailithnight @the-witchhunter
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unsteddie · 5 months ago
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Steve and Eddie are on again off again for years after the events of st4. It's never too serious, they have basically opposite schedules. Eddie tends bar and plays with his band, existing mostly at night. Steve gets a degree and moves onto being a school counselor, late nights are the bane of his existence. It's easier when they live together, but over the years they've moved in and out of the little place they share with Robin.
Eddie's moved cities a few times, tried living with the band, has been on and off tour. Steve moved back home when his parents divorced for about a year to help his mom out, moved in and usually quickly out with partners. He volunteered a few summers to live in low income rural areas and help with the schools summer programs.
They just never quite get the timing right to try anything other than casual. It's honestly tearing Steve apart, it's been the source of every break up he's had since meeting the man. Eddie however seems entirely unbothered.
Steve knows for a fact he's Eddie's favorite person. Even when Eddie is "seeing" someone else, Eddie's relationships are never serious, he still prefers to spend his time with Steve. He just doesn't get why Eddie doesn't want something real, but he doesn't push, doesn't wanna lose what he has
It's a full decade of this nonsense before the song Quit Playing Games With My Heart by The Backstreet Boys comes out. Steve doesn't really care much about the band, he likes boy band music well enough. It's fun and catchy and danceable. But he's picking Eddie up from the airport, back from a three month stint in LA recording and promoting with the band. And the air is tense as the lyrics spill out of the radio, and it makes Steve feel heavy.
The song ends but he's still pretty misty, it's only ten minutes back to the apartment. He can hold it back, and when they're home he'll just excuse himself and cry quietly on his bed. He's done it plenty of times before, this is no different, he's got this, he's good.
"Stevie?" Eddie asks softly, and his his voice sounds strained, like something's got him worked up too.
Steve can't respond, not with his voice, so he just sort of nods, doesn't look at Eddie, but can feel the weight of Eddie's stare.
"What is it about me that you don't wanna stick around for?" He asks quietly, but there's a solid quality to his tone, like this is a question he's resolved to ask many times, and finally got his nerve up.
Steve doesn't respond for a long time, as pieces slowly move into place. Eddie has always seemed so unaffected, even congratulating Steve when things got serious with someone else. But if he looked closely at Eddie's reactions now, in retrospect, with the way he asked his quiet question, it clicks.
Eddie never liked any of Steve's partners, always gave Steve an out of he needed it, was always a little petty about Steve's ex's after a breakup. The thought that maybe, for all these years, a decade now, they'd been wasting their time keep things casual was just...well it was fucking hilarious. Terrible and heartbreaking, sure. But it kick started ridiculous sounding giggles.
Giggles quickly snowballed into full hysterical laughter. He glanced at Eddie who looked hurt, which was absurd. Steve's laughter became unhinged, and he had to pull off the road. Eddie didn't look hurt anymore when he looked back, he looked furious, and he was wiping his cheeks. Steve hadn't seen tears, but the idea that Eddie was crying over him did nothing to quell the laughter.
The moment the car stopped Eddie threw the door open, and climbed out. Grabbing his duffle from the back seat. He managed to stomp a good distance away before Steve could get himself together enough to chase after him. He was still giggling when he caught up enough to grab the strap of Eddie's bag. He pulled it back hard enough to knock Eddie off balance, and had to reach out to steady him.
"Eddie please," he paused to laugh and catch his breath as Eddie struggled to pull out of his grip. "Please, baby, give me a minute."
Eddie froze at that. They didn't use pet names like that. Nothing so relationship-y. It was enough to make Eddie wait for him. Steve didn't let go though, terrified Eddie might run off without a proper explanation.
He didn't know how to explain it, the years of longing, the way he'd wanted to ask the same question so many times, how he ached for him. He certainly didn't know how to explain his reaction.
"I don't know why it made me laugh like that." He started once he had his breathing under control. "Some stupid pop song-" and he was laughing again because this was stupid. He threw his hands up in frustration, immediately grabbing onto Eddie again when his hands came back down.
"some stupid pop song had me on the brink of tears, because my stupid, broken heart-" more laughter, and Steve was getting really tired of this. "Aches for you, when you've, I guess-" laughter, "been feeling the same way. God Eddie how stupid are we?"
And with that the giggles were gone, his insides had gone suddenly still, and he felt the loss of the time they could have had.
"how long?" Eddie asked, quiet again, he was never this quite. When Steve looked at him now his face was hard to read, tears still brimming in his eyes, but the anger and hurt were gone.
"since the boat house probably, at least since the hospital, for sure. When you woke up and you were cuffed to the bed. The first thing you said was some joke about being flattered they thought you were that dangerous. I knew for sure then, but I think it started in the boat house." Steve flushed, his face hot and pink.
"God, no, that's ..we can't have been feeling the same way so long. Stevie, what have we been doing?" Tears were falling, both men crying on the side of the road, and Eddie was holding onto Steve now too.
"Didn't think you'd want me for real. Didn't think anyone-" Steve coughed around the lump in his throat. "Tried to move on, so many times. Never could, it always came back to you."
And Eddie was suddenly in his arms, weeping, getting tight words out between sobs. "Never. Anything. Compare. No one. Even close. Just you. My Stevie."
"Didn't catch all that sweetheart. You'll have to tell me the rest later." Steve whispered into his ear, and Eddie melted in his arms, nodding emphatically into Steve's shoulder.
The time they waisted sat heavy on Steve's shoulders, but he had Eddie now. Eventually they would joke about it, about pining after each other for a decade before getting thier shit together, but it was gonna hurt for a while still.
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jaewritesfic · 3 months ago
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Everlasting Trio DPxDC Nobody Knows Au Pt 3
Parts 1 and 2
They both fall silent and stare. 
That's an answer to one of many questions they've been asking themselves for years, isn't it?
Their best friend disappeared, and it wasn't abduction or murder. It was an escape.
“You guys don't have contact with Jack and Maddie, do you?”
Tucker swears there's a record scratch in his brain.
Sam gapes. “You mean your parents?”
Danny smiles, small, grim and humorless. “Jack and Maddie.”
Jesus Christ.
Sam glances over at Tucker and they exchange a look. Tucker knows they've been feeling a shared guilt for a long time, feeling like they didn't do enough. They had suspicions about something fucked going on in Danny's home life since the beginning of freshman year, but they never blew the whistle about it.
Rationally they know it wasn't their responsibility. All of Amity had suspicions - someone should have called CPS, and it shouldn't have been a couple of kids. A goddamn adult should have stepped up.
It doesn't keep either of them from feeling like they failed their childhood best friend.
“Considering I've spent the last four years suspecting they killed you and chucked your body into the portal to hide it? Hell fucking no, Danny,” Sam asserts.
The set of Danny's shoulders relaxes significantly. “Good,” he breathes. “Good. Please keep it that way.”
“What the fuck was going on in that house, man?” Tucker asks, a little sick to his stomach. He knows right away he shouldn't have asked.
Danny's expression shutters into something polite and pleasant to hide discomfort, and he immediately starts ‘casually’ gathering his papers and computer into his bag.
“Listen, I'm really happy to see you guys - seriously. I really should get going though, I-”
Sam reaches out and snatches him by the scruff of his shirt before he can even stand up all the way, yanking him back down into his chair.
His dumbfounded expression makes Tucker snort a laugh, so familiar and puppy-like. Danny is still all big blue eyes and nearly visible question marks when taken off guard. Tucker missed that face.
“You're not going anywhere until we get your phone number,” Sam argues, not a hint of wiggle room in her face or tone. “We'll get lunch or something, all three of us. Go to the mall. We're living in the same city, you know I'll hunt you down.”
When Danny hesitates, her face and tone melt into something softer.
“Please, Danny. We miss you.”
Danny melts a little, sighing and smiling. “...yeah. Yeah, I missed you too. I've missed you guys so much.”
“So?” Sam prompts, holding her hand out.
Danny huffs a little laughing breath and fishes around in his pocket, unlocking his phone and plopping it into her hand. 
His nails are black and green. Gradient.
Tucker doesn't know much about nails, but he knows there's a difference when Sam paints them and when she splurges for acrylics.
“Are those professionally done?” he asks, bemused. Danny had never expressed an interest in that kind of thing as a kid. It's kind of cool to see signs that he's, like…growing into himself.
Danny shrugs, and it feels good to see that he doesn't even seem to consider Tucker might give a shit in a bad way.
“I'm on my hot girl shit,” he deadpans, and Sam nearly drops his phone with the force of her startled laugh.
Tucker snorts. “Oh, well about time.”
“Hey!” Danny protests, offense fake and eyes dancing. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, nothing! You had a glow up is all.”
Danny snickers and kicks him gently under the table.
“Okay, dick.”
It's like they never parted at all for a moment.
“Here, Mr. Hot Girl Shit,” Sam says, handing Danny his phone back. “I put our numbers in and sent a text in a group chat so you can't forget to reach out. I'm serious, Danny. We missed you, don't disappear. It was scary enough the first time.”
Danny grimaces, at least looking genuinely apologetic. “I know. I'm sorry. I really do need to get going today, though. I've got an appointment.”
“What kind of appointment?” Tucker asks.
The grin Danny gives him is mischievous and has a few teeth sharper than he remembers there being. 
He breezes past them and out the door with an impish response of, “Hide and seek with furries.”
Part 4
Masterpost
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sturngirly · 6 months ago
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–‘Paper stars’– Chris sturniolo.
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in which... your boyfriend chris finds out you've got a praise kink.
warnings: none, suggestive at the end!!
‘hi lol, this is based on this meme chris reposted on instagram stories’
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– ... you think is weird? – i ask in fear of freaking out my boyfriend chris, we haven't been dating for too long, we've been together for 3 weeks but we've been friends for about a year and a half, we haven't done anything beyond making out and now we are playing a game of questions, his question being if i have something i haven't told him yet.
– that you have a praise kink? no, i don't think it's weird, why would i? – he says looking at me with an expression i can't quite read.
– I don't know you're looking at me funny – i say honestly, chris is a really expressive guy and i can tell almost every time how he feels just by looking at his face but now he looks like he is deep in thought.
– it's your turn now, dude –
– oh yeah, what is something YOU haven't told me yet? – i question pointing at chris and a little louder when I say ‘you’ tilting my head when i see the same boy scratching his neck bringing his eyes at the ceiling looking like he's searching for an answer.
– ... i also have a praise kink – he says bringing his face to the side almost like trying to hide it.
– ... you do? – you question, you always thought chris looked like the type of guy to be more into degrading which makes you surprised by his answer.
– yeah, ya seem surprised by that... y'know what? I could show you right now – you didn't know what chris had under his sleeve, he was always full of random ass scenarios that no one would've guessed was on his mind.
i watched as the blue eyed boy got up from his position on the floor and started walking towards his bedside table opening the first drawer and grabbing something from it, i couldn't see what it was until chris turned around facing me... it was a paper full of bright yellow stars.
– what are you implying?... – i said completely confused about what chris was thinking.
– imma start giving ya paper stars for every thing you do good – he replies giggling at himself and the face that i give him after he answers.
– ... i swear you're not real, you are a complete idiot – i say as chris begins laughing non stop at his stupid joke making me start laughing with him, repeatedly hitting the floor with my fist while chris has to support himself with his bed to not fall to the ground in tears by how much he's laughing.
– oh my god... that was funny... okay – i say as i try to catch my breath.
– HELL YEAH, as soon as you confessed that I was thinking about doing it – chris says making me feel more calm knowing that it wasn't that he thought i was weird and that he was just trying to think something funny to say.
we start to get quiet and before i can say anything chris slowly gets on top of me beginning to caress the left side of my face with one of his hands while the other one holds my waist.
– seriously tho, i could start doing it... but you'll have to be a good girl, yeah? – he says giving me a smirk and sleepy eyes making my cheeks get the reddest they've ever been while i mumble something unable to get words out because of how flustered i got.
– cat got ya tongue kid? –
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WHAT DO WE THINK? this is my first time ever posting a fanfic on tumblr and i actually don't love this but I really hope y'all do!!
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vidavalor · 1 year ago
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Crowley actually says a barely-coded "I love you" to Aziraphale back in 2.03
In his proposal in the S2 finale, Crowley told us that he and Aziraphale know they're in love and have known it for damn ever but they pretend they're not a couple. This, by default, means that they've not specifically said the words "I love you" before, by Crowley's own admission. They've said I love you in their own little language and we've watched it before. It's little demonic miracle of my own. It's don't go unscrewing the cap. It's just a little bit of a good person and just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing... But what Crowley says in the S2 finale is that they've never-- ever-- said in 6,000 years is just I love you in those normal people, human words. It has always been too dangerous for too many reasons to count so they have euphemisms for it and whole conversations around it and have made that be enough. Why do I bring this up? Because Crowley found a middle ground between the words and their coded language with one another in S2 and it's flying under the radar.
So you know that scene when Muriel has shown up and interrupts Crowley and Aziraphale talking in the back room? The one where while Crowley is speaking, Aziraphale suddenly looks like he's about to pass out with sheer want? Yes, our angel always looks at Crowley like he hung the damn moon (which he did but lol...) but this scene is different. This scene is like... someone get Aziraphale a chair and a glass a water because he is pupils-dilated, audibly breathing, and eyeing up Crowley with naked want. More than the lust? He looks happy. He looks delighted. You can basically hear his heart race from that look on his face. Why here? Yes, Crowley looks hot. Yes, he's in profile in a way that is a visual parallel to Before the Beginning (which was an inspired choice for this scene.) Yes, he's here with a Plan and taking charge of the Muriel situation and swaying his hips a bit while he speaks. It's not any of that. Those are nice bonuses. Aziraphale likes them. He gets them all the time. It's what Crowley said in this moment. To Aziraphale. Through what he said to Muriel.
Crowley cracks a dry, kinda dark joke that is meant for an audience of one: just Aziraphale. He knows Muriel won't get it. Since Muriel is cosplaying as what they think is a human Inspector Constable and they are here to verify the miracle Aziraphale has told Heaven and so are monitoring them, Crowley quips that Muriel is here to spy on them (since they, well, are, actually) and that he knows that many human police officers like to make a bit of a hobby out of spying on "people in love."
People. In. Love.
In a one-two punch in the same sentence, Crowley called him and Aziraphale queer humans and he called what they have love, using the actual word *aloud* for the first time in 6,000 years. He said he loved Aziraphale in front of an angel of Heaven in a little coded joke but this time, using the coded bit to say the real thing for the first time.
Then, just to hammer it all home and make sure that Aziraphale really knows it was very much intentional, Crowley says 'love' again in the next sentence. He starts going on about how Muriel can come to him anytime with any questions about love and he's happy to assist with their understanding of human love with all of his implied vast, vast years of experience with the subject and how he'll be here to answer their questions, in the bookshop, while Aziraphale drives his car to Edinburgh.
Go back and tell Heaven I'm here, Inspector Constable, I don't give a fuck anymore. *We* don't give a fuck anymore. You go tell The Archangel Michael that I'm who they're going to get managing Angelic Embassy X aka The Bookshop until Aziraphale gets back-- yep, me, former Demon of Hell. The Boyfriend in the Dark Sunglasses. He's asked me to, which is his way of saying he wants to stop hiding and asking me not to sneak out to my car in the middle of the night which hallefuckinglujah, Inspector Constable... Go tell Their Beatitudes that we ravish each other all over the bookshop. You won't even be lying. As Maggie'll put it later in the season: I'm done being afraid all the time. I love him. We're in love. There's your hot intel.
Aziraphale:
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Aziraphale: Inspector Constable, be a dear and spray me down with all 700 of our fire extinguishers, will you?
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erwinsvow · 8 months ago
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i thinkkk all 3 boys have a thing for r but she only has a thing for rafe (realises when sofia shows up) 🤪 #kook trio reader
this would play out so funny seriously timeline not making any sense but oh well
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you watch, jaw clenched and chewing on your cheek, rafe talking to the girl he's been with recently. normally you can push your feelings aside, but it stings this time, since she's been around for weeks. he never stays with one girl for this long, no girl besides you, you think bitterly.
"does she really have to come every time?" you ask, not realizing how jealous you sound. topper and kelce exchange a look. they saw this coming from a mile away.
you are a little oblivious, they discussed one night, not catching onto the way kelce has been suggesting the two of you go to dinner alone for the past month. no, you always agree and then tell him you're inviting rafe too.
you think topper coming over for ice cream and movies is the way he's deciding to cope over breaking up with sarah. you don't even realize this isn't a communal activity, texting rafe and telling him to pick up the ice cream.
it's fine, they've decided, except now you're getting upset, since rafe is doing to you what you've been doing to them.
"it's been like two weeks," top comments, taking a swig of his beer.
"seems like forever. what's he see in her anyways?" you hate that you even asked the question—envy didn't suit you, especially not with your best friends. she's nice, and pretty, and if she's good for rafe then they should be together.
you should be happy for him. it stings even worse because you're not, not at all.
"don't answer that," you follow up, shooting one last dirty look at them and turning away.
"hey! christ." kelce says, while you pick up his scotch and finish it in one drink.
"i need another drink," you huff.
"stop moping," top says.
"yeah, we all know he can't stay away from you. give it another week," kelce snickers, laughing with top.
you don't catch his sentence, a new idea coming to mind.
"what's that pogue's name? the one who sells weed? jj?" you turn to kelce and top, eyes wide and eager, smiling for the first time in an hour. "anyone got his number?"
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golden-cherry · 28 days ago
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deal - cl16 (42/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The new bed is here! And Joris isn't happy about it!
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of sex), fluff
Word Count: 3.3k
series masterlist
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A/N: LETS GOOOOOOOO!!! FORZA FERRARI!!!
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“It was really nice of you to take the photos for Enzo and Charlotte,” Charles says as you both get into the car in the afternoon. He buckles up and starts the engine. 
“It's my job, after all,” you smile and make yourself comfortable in the passenger seat. 
Charles steers the car out of the driveway. "Well, actually it's your job to take pictures of me, not of my brother's engagement," he corrects you, for which you gently punch him on the shoulder. 
“I still enjoyed doing it,” you say. "I'm very happy for Enzo and Charlotte. They seem like the perfect couple.”
Charles purses his lips and nods. "They've been together for a long time. We were all wondering when he would finally pop the question. But I didn't think he'd actually do it during Christmas.”
You look at him. ”Why not?”
“I don't know,“ he replies, shrugging his shoulders. "I would have thought he would have done it in the summer, after a nice day on the boat and then maybe at dinner.”
You look at him. "Maybe he wanted to combine it with something nice – and Christmas is a celebration of love.” You can't help but grin. “And he didn't have to buy her a Christmas present, just a ring.”
Your roommate laughs. “Should I do the same to you next year? Just propose to you so I don't have to get you a gift?” 
You know it's a joke, but when the words leave his mouth, you feel warm. You roll your eyes in mock annoyance. “Absolutely not.”
The Monegasque steers the car through the streets of his home country. “And how should I propose then? Do you want a trip in a hot air balloon? At Times Square, where everyone is watching? Or at a Taylor Swift concert while she sings Love Story?”
You can't suppress a giggle. ”None of that, please.”
“Then tell me.” He reaches out and grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. 
“Mmm. I've never really thought about it much. But I think I'd rather have a moment that's just for the two of us. Where no one else is watching, where we're on our own. No onlookers, no one to talk about it. Just the two of us – I think that would be perfect.”
Charles squeezes your hand twice. “Good to know.” He smiles at you briefly before looking back at the road. “By the way, I asked Pierre and Kika if they wanted to go to Lando's party with us tonight. I hope that was okay.”
“Absolutely. I feel like I haven't seen Kika in ages. But it was only – what – four days ago?” 
“I think so. They want to come around seven, so you two can get ready together and maybe have a drink.” 
Without thinking about it, you lean over and kiss his cheek. "You're the best, Charles." You can see the blush rising in his face, but you let it go uncommented.
“I know,” he says with a grin as he turns into the underground parking garage. When the car comes to a stop, you both get out and you press the elevator button while Charles takes your bags out of the trunk. 
“What are the parties like in Monaco?” you ask him as you both enter the elevator. ‘Do you have to dress particularly chic or does it depend on the club? How much money do I need to take with me? Is my ID card enough or do I need to take anything else?’ you bombard him with questions. 
Charles has to laugh. ”Haven't you ever been out partying?”
You shake your head and press the button for your floor. “Not in Monaco, no.”
The elevator doors close and you feel it transport you upwards. The Monegasque looks down at you. “The club where Lando's friend performs is chic, but not super chic. If you like –”
“Where the fuck have you been?” an angry Joris bellows at you as the elevator door opens. 
You almost have a heart attack from the shock, but Charles just looks at his best friend in confusion.
“Since when did you stop checking your cell phones? I've tried to reach you ten thousand times!” Joris's face is as red as a tomato as he snarls at you angrily and you get out of the elevator without saying a word. ”I was still asleep! And I didn't even get to eat breakfast!”
Charles puts your two bags down next to the apartment door. "And a good morning to you, Joris. How can I help you?” He walks past him, deeper into the apartment, Joris follows him, seething. You follow them in silence.
“How you can help me?” Joris asks snappishly, leaning on the kitchen worktop with his hands, before pointing at a few sheets in front of him with his index finger. “Next time you order furniture, at least be home when it's delivered, or leave your own cell phone number so they can call you if they ring the doorbell and you don't open it.” 
Charles opens his eyes wide. ”Our bed.”
Joris sneers. “This shitty bed has cost me valuable hours of sleep. And I certainly shouldn't have driven here.”
Charles can hardly keep a grin off his face as he turns around and opens the fridge. "How many bottles of wine did you drink yesterday?", he asks, placing eggs, vegetables and bacon on the counter in front of him. 
“Two.”
Your roommate gets a bowl and a pan out of a drawer before he starts to crack the eggs into them. “Did you throw up in your front yard?”
Joris rolls his eyes and watches as Charles prepares his hangover breakfast. "No.”
“Then congratulations,’ Charles grins. ”Then you had a successful Christmas.”
The omelette tastes so good that Joris's anger disappears with the first bite. He talks about Christmas dinner with his parents and his brother and the family vacation planned for next year, while he shovels the omelette into himself like a bulldozer. In between, Charles slides him coffee across the counter in a cup, but doesn't dare get closer to his hungry and hungover friend. 
“By the way, the bed is very nice,” Joris finally says, pushing the empty plate away. ‘You could have at least warned me.”
“I'm sorry,’ Charles apologizes with pursed lips. ”Are we friends again?”
Joris sighs. “Of course,” he smiles, getting up from his chair to embrace his oldest friend. They both pat each other on the back before letting go. “I have to go now. By the way, I gave the delivery man a €150 tip for kindly setting up the bed. Thank God you had some money lying around.”
Charles watches his friend go in the direction of the apartment door with confusion. “The setup was already included in the price.“
The photographer purses his lips. "At least they got a nice tip," he finally says, before leaving the apartment and leaving you two alone. 
Without saying a word, you take the dirty dishes and wash them in the sink while Charles puts your bags in the bedroom. When he returns, he stands directly behind you. You can feel the warmth of his skin through your clothes. 
“We also have a dishwasher, you know?” he whispers, laying his chin on your shoulder. His arms wrap around your middle, his chest pressing against your back. 
You nod and lean against him. “But we don't need to run the dishwasher for that,” you reply, breathing in as his hand slowly slides under your sweater. “It was very nice of you to make Joris breakfast, even though it's already afternoon.”
“Mm-hmm,” Charles hums softly. "It was the least I could do. It was really nice of him to come here to take delivery of the bed. I'd completely forgotten that I put down his cell phone number." 
“Joris is a good friend.”
“He is,” he murmurs and kisses your cheek. ‘But I prefer to have you lying in my new bed." He gently pulls you out of the kitchen towards the bedroom where the new bed is. Joris was even kind enough to make the bed; dark gray sheets are smoothly stretched over the mattress and you would love to snuggle up in them. 
“It looks incredibly cozy,“ you smile. 
“Come on.” Charles gently pushes you towards the bed. “I told you I wanted you in it.” He watches you with eagle eyes as you slowly crawl onto the bed and slip under the covers, putting your cell phone on the nightstand. As if you've been conditioned, you have to yawn. 
“The bed was definitely the right decision,” you smile and stretch your arms to fold them behind your head. "But it was definitely the wrong decision to trick me to get into it.”
“Why?’ your roommate chuckles. ”Too comfortable?”
“Definitely. I'd love to stay here forever.” You tap the empty side of the bed next to you. ”Come and try it out.”
Without wasting another moment, Charles circles the bed and lies down next to you. His arm wraps around your middle again and pulls you towards him so that your chests are touching. “I see your point. It is pretty comfortable.” His hand slides up your back under your sweater until it finds its place between your shoulder blades. 
You close your eyes and breathe out. “Do we have to go out partying tonight? I mean, can't we just order take-out and stay in?”
“Of course we could do that,” he smiles. 'But I highly doubt you want to cancel on Kika and Lando.”
You sigh. ‘We could invite everyone here," you suggest. ”The bed is big enough for all of us and –”
“Absolutely not,” he interrupts you and shakes his head vehemently. ‘The only ones allowed in this bed are already in it. Nobody else is allowed to snuggle up in the covers. Besides, I don't like the thought of you lying in a bed with Lando.”
You raise your hand and gently run your fingers through his brown curls. "Are you jealous?”
A deep growl escapes Charles' throat. “Maybe.”
You lean forward and kiss his stubbled cheek. ”You do know that Lando is the reason we're friends again, right? Because he called you when you were in Italy?”
“I am aware,“ he mumbles, pressing you closer. "Doesn't mean you have to share a bed, though.’ 
“You don't have to worry about that,” you grin. “There's only one man I want to share a bed with.” He looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Don't worry, Charlie. You're the one I mean, of course.”
“Perfect.”
You lie in bed for a while, legs tangled and snuggled together. You gently run your fingers through his hair while his fingertips caress your back. Lying here with him feels so normal, so familiar, that you don't ever want to be in a bed without him again. 
“You still haven't answered my questions about tonight,” you say eventually, and your hand gently caresses the soft skin at the nape of his neck. 
Charles almost moans, his eyes closed. "I'll pay for you.”
“But I can pay for myself," you smile, even though he's not looking at you.
“Doesn't matter.” Your fingers pause in their movement. Charles fidgets a little, wanting for you to continue.
“You're about to fall asleep, Charlie," you giggle, but comply with his silent request. 
He moves closer to you and cuddles his face into the hollow between your jaw and your shoulder before taking a deep breath. “I'm not,” he replies softly. “But lying here with you is so comfortable.” He leisurely pulls at your sweater to reveal the skin on your neck and places feather-light kisses where your pulse is beating. Goosebumps spread across your body. 
“Charles...”
“Let's cancel on everyone,” he whispers, and his hand moves to your thigh to drape your leg over his hip so that you are literally pressed against each other, body to body. You feel his hardness against your clothed core. 
You sigh. “But you just said that we can't cancel,” you reply. “Besides, you already said yes to Lando and invited Pierre and Kika.”
“I don't care,” he breathes. “Let's be crappy friends and cancel at the last minute. I'm sure the others will understand.”
“What will they understand, hm? That the bed is so comfortable that we don't want to leave it?“ you ask him quietly. 
“That I'd rather be here in bed with you than standing in a crowded club.” His breath caresses your neck gently. “That I'd rather test out the new bed with you than yell at you over the loud music just to be able to talk to you.”
His words make your face heat up. You hope he doesn't notice. “Then we'd be very bad friends.”
“Then let's be very bad friends,” he grins against your neck before pressing a final kiss on your pulse. “We can make it up to them sometime. Just not today. Today I want you all to myself. Now that I finally have you back with me.”
You feel him press his boner against you and you absentmindedly tighten your leg around his waist. Your fingers gently press into his neck muscles and his breathy moans reach your ears. You can feel your arousal pool in your panties and you want to give in so bad. 
You want to stay home with him. In this bed. You want to repeat last night at his mom’s house, but this time the both of you would be able to show how much pleasure you give each other. You desperately want to hear him groan again, but now without the barrier of your hand on his mouth. You want to feel his cock against your pussy, sliding through your folds and gathering your juices. 
God, you want to repeat last night but without any clothes on. His cock nudging against your clit, sending jolts of electricity through your veins. His hands grabbing your ass and moving you over his length. You want to feel the the tip of his dick catching in your entrance before finally sliding in, stretching you deliciously. 
You want to fuck him so bad that it’s making you dizzy.
“What are you thinking about, mon amour?” Charles asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. 
Before you can answer him – which you don't really want to do anyway – your cell phone rings. The Monegasque reaches for it without hesitation, answers the call and puts the person on speakerphone. 
“Allo?”
“Hello, you two,“ Kika's voice sounds from your cell phone. ‘How are you? What are you doing?”
“We're testing my new bed,’ Charles replies with a grin, and you hide your face in the duvet. 
“You can't say that,” you say, reaching for your cell phone, but your roommate extends his arm so you can't get to it. 
“Why?“ Charles asks hypocritically. "It's true, isn't it?”
“Charles!”
Kika laughs loudly. "Should I call back in a minute? I don't want to disturb you guys doing whatever it is you're doing.”
“It's fine,” you call to her, although she would have understood you even if you had spoken normally. “What can I do for you?”
The Portuguese woman giggles. “I just wanted to ask what you would like to drink and what you are going to wear.”
You open your eyes wide. "Um, I have no idea. What do people wear in the clubs here?" You repeat the question you've already asked your roommate. 
“How about this?” She begins. "Pierre and I will come a little earlier and go through your closet together? The guys can play video games or something. And we'll get ready in peace and quiet."
You like her suggestion. ”That would be great.”
“Great. Pierre and I are going out for a quick shopping trip and want to buy some wine. You drink sweet, right? Then I'll bring you something.”
“Thanks!” you reply and with a big stretch you finally get to your phone in Charles's hand. "See you in a bit!" You hang up and put the phone back on the bedside table. When you turn to your friend, he's pouting. ”What's wrong?”
He turns on his back and crosses his arms over his chest, which is a little difficult considering your leg is still wrapped around his waist. “I was kind of hoping you'd cancel on them.”
A smile spreads across your face. You slide closer to him again and reach for his arms to separate them before you roll onto him. Your knees are next to his hips on the mattress and instinctively, his big hands find your ass. 
“I'm sorry, Charles,” you whisper, leaning down so that you are completely on top of him. Your elbows are next to his shoulders and your hands are finding their way into his hair again. ”We don't have to stay long.”
The Monegasque exhales. “As long as you promise me that we'll stay in bed tomorrow, that's okay with me.” When you purse your lips, he groans in annoyance and pushes his head back into the pillow. “Do I have to go to camp with Andrea tomorrow?”
You nod slightly. ”I'm afraid so.”
“That's terrible,” he complains, wrapping his arms around you. ”Then we won't see each other again until New Year's Eve! What will I do without you during that time?”
You don't want to think about spending the next few days without him, which is why you change the subject back to tonight. 
“How about this: Kika and Pierre are coming over soon and we'll party later with Lando and his DJ friend,” you begin your suggestion. 
Charles raises an eyebrow. ”I don't see any compromise I'm willing to make.”
You roll your eyes in mock exasperation. “Just let me finish. So - we're all going out to party in a bit, and when we get back home we can make ourselves comfortable in bed here, watch another movie and not get out of bed until noon tomorrow.”
“Do we have to be dressed to watch the movie?” he asks mischievously, and as you move to roll away from him, he turns you both so that he is now on top of you. He grabs your thighs and puts your legs back around his waist, and as he nestles against you, almost crushing you under his weight – which feels better than you care to admit. You feel his boner between your legs. 
“Charles,“ you moan softly as his cock softly nudges against your clothed clit. 
“Do we have to be dressed?” he repeats his question and slides his hand under your sweater, his fingers spreading over your sides. 
You breathe in his scent and bask in his warmth. “We don't have to,” you reply without giving a thought to what it means for you. But you couldn't care less about that right now. 
Charles's lips breathe light kisses on your neck. “Then it's a deal,” he whispers before withdrawing completely – leaving you high and dry. “Come on. Our friends will be here soon. And I doubt you'll want to be in our bed then. No matter how comfortable it is,“ he grins and leaves the bedroom. But as he walks through the door, you can still see him put his hand in his sweatpants to fix his erection. 
Somehow you're glad you have the same effect on him as he does on you. 
Hot blood courses through your veins when you think about how the evening will end. You would love to pull Charles back into bed, rip his clothes off and let him ravish you until you can't walk anymore. 
That will have to wait. 
But anticipation is half the fun.
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heartfullofleeches · 8 months ago
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Richboy bunny yan who keeps trying to pay bodyguard werewolf reader to see their fat tits - Cholly's Scarf
Richboy Bunny Yan who's initially pissed when his folks inform him they've gotten him a bodyguard. He's a grown ass man who can take care of himself. Sure people think he's easy pickings because of his size...and he's been held for ransom once or twice in the past, but that doesn't mean anything! He'll just have to be the worst boss imaginable - if his family wanted to treat him like a child he'll be the most insufferable brat to work with till the bastard they hired runs out the door with their tail between their legs.
Richboy Bunny Yan waits patiently for the arrival of his new bodyguard - smug with his resolution. They'll be out of his fur before he knows it and things will go back to the same way they used to be-
"You my new boss?"
Richboy Bunny Yan who can't get a good look at the wolf's face from where he's sitting. It's hard to see anything with the werewolf's large chest blocking out the room's artificial light. Bunny had his fair share of run ins with their kind, but he had yet to see a wolf so.... endowed in that particular area. Richboy Bunny Yan who has to wipe drool from the corner of his lips as he opens his mouth to speak, carefully calculating his first words to his new guard.
"....Can you unbutton your shirt for me?"
Richboy Bunny Yan who instantly becomes obsessed with his wolf and their massive tits. They may have a scary face, but they aren't so bas once you get to know them. His teddy bear, his giant puppy. Buys his pup low-cut shirts and tank tops to wear, salivating at the occasional slip of their skin through their clothing. He's such a clutz sometimes - spilling his drinks all over their chest like that... It's okay, he can just suck the alcohol from their shirt like any good boss would do.
Richboy Bunny Yan who calls his bodyguard hours after they've gone home to complain about the lumpiness of his pillows. If only he had a soft, warm place to rest his head.... Richboy Bunny Yan who's out like a light the moment his bodyguard caves and runs over to be his living mattress.
Richboy Bunny who despite claiming to be independent needs to be carried everywhere by his big strong wolf. They're paid enough not to care when their boss is groping their tits in broad daylight usually while waiting in line. He has to do something while waiting for his turn.
Richboy Bunny Yan who adores spoiling and dressing up his puppy. Orders them a new collar every other week and begs on his hands and knees, offering to pay their rent for the next ten years if they get nipple piercings, preferably with his initials on the jewelry. He doesn't even know why they go home anymore. They should live with him so he can fondle, wait- no, he means suckle... that's not right either.. lick?-
He just really wants his puppy within arms reach at all times okay?
-
Bodyguard Werewolf Reader, meeting their boss for the first time: Good after-
Richboy Bunny, swooning: Titty.....
Bodyguard Werewolf: Pardon?
Richboy Bunny: Ti.... Tis nice to meet you! Haha, why don't we start off by asking questions to get to know each other better? I'll go first, Kay? .... What's your bra size??
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murdrdocs · 10 months ago
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repressed and desperately horny luke who has never seen a porn video vs new to camp reader who used to be able to watch it whenever they wanted but now can't even flick the bean in peace
oh and maybe reader who gives Luke a dirty polaroid or two they've been hiding before they leave camp for the fall
— 🦣
🦣 anon strikes again omg. this concept actually makes me all giddy i want it to be something Bigger hence the informal format but just follow me here okay.
just thinking about ya'll finding each other in a moment of need. fate, really, if either of you believed in the concept. you, grumpy and insatiable from lack of proper sexual satisfaction, and luke, knowing he's feeling something but he doesn't know how to expel the need. sure he jacks off sometime, but not nearly as much as a guy of his age usually would.
so there you are, grumbling about, eyes narrowed, mimicking the behavior of ares kids (your possible siblings but it's anyone's guess at this point) and luke just has to go and be the mediator, asking what's got you so down. of course, you're wound up so tight, and a little grateful that someone your age has asked the question because you can finally tell the truth.
out comes your dirty secrets. your longing for peace and quiet to get off. your slightly remorseful nature because you had no idea that you were that reliant on pornography to help you out. and luke is just standing there, ears reddening as he suddenly finds the trees behind you incredibly interesting.
but luke is a Problem Solver, so he awkwardly has a suggestion for you. "the showers right before the bonfire are usually pretty deserted. and for your ..." he scratches a nonexistent itch behind his ear. "other problem, my brothers have some old magazines i could lend to you."
you snort, arms folding as you pretend to be disinterested. but really anything would satiate you at this point. "what are they? women on motorcycles? maybe an old playboy mag?"
luke shrugs. "dunno. never seen 'em."
and it takes you a second. a really long, tense, and warm (for luke) second where you eye him up. noticing his stance, taking in his clipped words, how he said them. and it occurs to you that little demigod luke, having been at camp half blood since 14, has never seen what the world has to offer in the pornography department. or if he has, he hasn't seen the porn of today.
and unfortunately, it's impossible for you to fix his issue in naivety. there are no phones in camp and even if there were, you don't think the service out here would be all too good. which leaves you to improvise.
you do end up getting the mags from the hermes boys, critiquing their selection with a scrutinized glare at the pages, flicking through them with the edge of your shirt to avoid any remnants. and then you report back to luke, telling him to give them a look, prefacing it by telling him that things now are much more entertaining. slyly hinting at your ears being open if he wanted to give his opinion.
which, he does. standing awfully close to you at the bonfire one night, body turned just a little so he can speak lowly.
"there's ... things better than that out there?"
you nod, affirming his statement while attempting to hide a small smile. the magazines were barely pornography in your eyes, women in manufactured poses to appeal to men. skin artificially smoothed, their cunts shockingly dry, their poses so meticulous. it lacked the emotion and desire that you enjoyed to watch.
and poor luke didn't even know the half of it.
at least you do introduce him to what he could be consuming just before you leave camp that summer, sliding him two polaroids you'd managed to take.
one of you in the showers, body littered with clumps of suds. your skin shining from the overhead light which gleams from the water along your body. it's taken from a low angle, the side of your backside being the main focal point with your tits at the top just barely making the cut.
and then the other is much more lewd, showing luke what the magazines should have. you, on your back in a camp bed, wearing nothing but your standard issued shirt which is bunched up around the waist. your free hand is between your spread thighs, two fingers clearly singled out to spread your lips and reveal just how wet and shiny your cunt is. and after one of his many sessions of getting off over it, the post nut clarity manifests as hyper analyzing for luke.
he notices the familiar pair of shoes off to the corner, the pillowcase he had one of his brothers sneak in last summer, the stain he's never been able to get out of his fitted sheet.
and suddenly the picture has new meaning for him.
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harrysfolklore · 2 months ago
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omg i have a question for the bitchy carlos fic -
so nicole piastri came on red flags podcast recently and spoke about oscar and his childhood, what if there’s an au segment of her talking about older piastri & what would his reaction be
okay this turned out being way longer than intended bc i added the scene of carlos and nicole meeting bc why not, i hope i'm not annoying you with too much little bitch content, i'll promise i'll post for other drivers now READ LITTLE BITCH HERE
Host: "So, Nicole, we've heard a lot about Oscar's journey to F1, but what can you tell us about his relationship with his sister, YN? She has quite the personality online, doesn't she? Can you tell us about their relationship growing up?
Nicole:"Oh, those two. They've always had such a special bond. YN is a few years older than Oscar and yes, she's known as the Piastri who fights people online, but she's always been fiercely protective of him. From the moment YN first held Oscar as a baby, she appointed herself his protector. It was adorable and sometimes a bit much, but always came from a place of love.
Host: Can you give us an example?
Nicole: "When Oscar was about six and YN was maybe nine. Oscar had just started school and was having trouble making friends. He was quite shy back then, if you can believe it. One day, YN overheard some kids teasing Oscar in the playground."
Host: "Oh no, what happened?"
Nicole: "Well, YN marched right up to those boys and she told them off in no uncertain terms. She said, and I quote, 'My brother is going to be a famous race car driver one day, and you'll all be asking for his autograph. So you'd better be nice to him now!' The boys were so shocked they just stood there with their mouths open."
Host:"That's amazing! Did it help Oscar?"
Nicole: "It did, actually. Oscar was so impressed by his big sister standing up for him that it gave him a confidence boost. And you know what? Some of those boys ended up becoming his good friends. They still joke about YN's 'prophecy' coming true now that Oscar's in F1."
Host: "That's such a heartwarming story! It's clear YN has always been protective of Oscar. Now, speaking of relationships, we've heard that YN is dating Carlos Sainz. Can you tell us a bit about how that came to be?"
Nicole: "Oh, that's an interesting story! YN actually told us she was dating Carlos a while back, but we weren't surprised at all. We knew she liked him since that time in Singapore last year when our family visited. YN was trying so hard to act mad about Carlos' win, but it was obvious she was impressed."
Host: "So you had suspicions before they even got together?"
Nicole: "Absolutely! Even before that Singapore trip, YN used to go on these multiple rants about, in her words, 'this arrogant Spaniard' who kept pushing Oscar off track. She called him something I won't repeat but I'm pretty sure everyone knows it, it absolutely irritated her. But you know what? We all knew that deep down, she had a crush on him."
Host: "That's quite the turnaround! Have you met Carlos — as YN’s partner this time — yet?"
Nicole: "I haven’t, actually. I’m hoping to do that in Baku after the summer break. But I can see Carlos brings out a softer side of YN that we don't often see in public. Don't get me wrong, she's still fiercely stubborn and outspoken, but with Carlos, there's this gentleness that comes out. He seems to really understand and appreciate her passion, and he's not intimidated by her strong personality at all. In fact, he seems to admire it."
Host: "It sounds like they complement each other well. How has Oscar taken to their relationship?"
Nicole: "Oscar's been very supportive. I think he appreciates seeing his sister happy, and of course, it doesn't hurt that Carlos is someone he respects on the track. It's actually quite funny to see YN now, cheering for both Oscar and Carlos during races. She's always torn between wanting Oscar to win and not wanting Carlos to lose."
Host: "That's nice, Carlos sounds like quite the gentleman. Has YN picked up any Spanish since they started dating?"
Nicole: "Oh, that's actually a funny story. We love to tease YN about this. You see, she failed Spanish in high school - couldn't conjugate a verb to save her life. And now here she is, dating a Spaniard! Carlos has been trying to teach her, but let's just say it's a work in progress. She can now order a beer and ask where the bathroom is, so I suppose that's progress!"
Host: "That's hilarious! I'm sure she'll be fluent in no time."
Nicole: "Bless her, she's really trying. She's determined to have a full conversation with Carlos' parents in Spanish by the end of the year. We'll see how that goes!"
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ynpiastri our queen is here !! and no one is ready
tagged: nicolepiastri
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username1 NICOLE PIASTRI IS THE MOMENT
username2 SLAY THE HOUSE BOOTS DOWN
mclaren Icon 🧡
lilyzneimer the besttttt 💓
username3 IS SHE MEETING CARLOS ??
username4 oh i can’t wait to see our queen giving carlos a run for his money again
landonorris Coolest ever
↳ ynpiastri her favorite will always be yuki don’t even try it
↳ username1 HEEEELP
yukitsunoda5511 Nicole is brat
↳ username2 I LOVE THEM 😭
oscarpiastri I’m ready, your boyfriend however…
↳ username3 LOOOOORDDD
↳ username1 POOR CARLOS
↳ ynpiastri leave him alone 😤😤
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Baku had a special energy during race weekends. The tight streets and high-pressure atmosphere gave you a mixture of excitement and nerves, but today, the butterflies in your stomach had nothing to do with the Grand Prix. Instead, it was about the lunch you were about to have, where Carlos would meet your mom—officially, as your boyfriend this time.
You walked through the paddock with Carlos by your side, his hand wrapped around yours. Oscar was a few steps ahead, casually walking toward the hospitality area where no other than Nicole Piastri waited. She had met Carlos briefly before, like many of the other drivers, but this was different. He wasn’t just a name on the grid anymore—he was the man you were dating, and Carlos seemed to be nervous about the meeting.
"You think she likes me?" Carlos adjusted his hat for what felt like the hundredth time, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
"Carlos, she’s going to love you," you couldn’t help but smile at his nerves, "She already does. But, you know... as a mum, she's entitled to give you a little hard time."
"That’s what I’m worried about," Carlos chuckled, but his smile was still tight, "I just want to make a good impression, you know?"
"You will," you assured him, squeezing his hand. "Just be yourself."
Oscar slowed down, overhearing your conversation and grinning like he already knew how this would play out. "Mum’s gonna grill you, mate," he teased, throwing a glance back at Carlos. "She’s been waiting for this."
"Not helping, Oscar," you muttered, giving your brother a playful shove. He just smirked, clearly enjoying himself.
When you finally reached the hospitality tent, your mom was already seated at a table, smiling warmly as she saw you all approach. She stood up to greet you, wrapping you in a familiar hug before turning to Carlos with that same welcoming smile—though you knew there was a glint of mischief behind it.
“Carlos, it’s so good to see you again,” she greeted, shaking his hand.
"It’s great to see you too, Mrs. Piastri," Carlos said, his polite smile fixed on his face. His Spanish charm was dialed up a notch, but you could still feel the slight tension in his grip as he held your hand.
“Please, call me Nicole,” she said, taking her seat again. “I’m not that formal, especially not with my daughter’s boyfriend.”
As you all settled into your seats, you couldn't help but notice the amused glances Oscar and your mom were exchanging. You knew that look—they were up to something.
"So," Nicole began, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "how long have you two been together again?"
You glanced at Carlos, who seemed to relax a bit as he answered, "About two months officially, right, cariño?"
You nodded, but before you could add anything, your mom raised an eyebrow. "And unofficially?"
"Mum!" you said as you felt your cheeks heat up.
Oscar, who had taken a seat across from you, let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the show. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching the dynamic unfold.
"That’s what I thought," she teased, making Oscar let out a loud laugh.
You felt your face grow even hotter as your mom's implications hung in the air. Carlos, to his credit, managed to maintain his composure, though you noticed a slight redness creeping up his neck.
"Well," Carlos cleared his throat, his accent a bit thicker than usual, "I think it's safe to say we've known each other for quite some time now."
"Oh, I remember. You two weren't exactly friendly at first, were you?"
"That's putting it mildly, Mum," Oscar snorted, "Remember the time she came home absolutely fuming after a race? She was ranting about 'that little bi—'"
"Oscar!" you cut him off, "We don't need to relive that."
Carlos squeezed your hand under the table, clearly amused. "No, please, I'd love to hear about this."
"Oh mate, you should've heard her," Oscar spoke again, "'Carlos this, Carlos that.' I swear, she talked about you more when she hated you than she does now."
"I did not!" you protested, but your brother's knowing smirk told you he wasn't buying it.
"It's true," your mum added, her eyes dancing with laughter. "I remember thinking, 'This girl protests too much.' I had a feeling even then that all that anger was hiding something else."
You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. "I can't believe this is happening."
Carlos wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "It's okay, hermosa. I love to hear these stories."
You looked up at him, seeing the warmth in his eyes. It was hard to believe that those same eyes had once glared at you across the paddock.
Nicole smiled, watching the two of you with that familiar mom look—part teasing, part proud. "Well, now look at you. I guess all that bickering was just a cover-up for how much you liked each other."
"You’ve gone soft," Oscar rolled his eyes dramatically. "I kinda miss the days when you’d call each other names."
"Don’t worry," you muttered, giving Carlos a playful glare. "He’s still a little bitch sometimes."
Carlos laughed, his arm tightening around you as he kissed the top of your head. "And you’re still my favorite enemy turned girlfriend."
Your mom let out a satisfied sigh, leaning back in her chair. "I knew it all along."
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azulhood · 1 year ago
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Danny and Jazz were almost at the end of their rope.
They've checked almost everyone they knew who would take them in.
Sam's family? Didn't want them living under the same roof as their daughter.
Mr Lancer? He did actually want to take them in but his one bedroom apartment was not a suitable place for kids to live and his teachers salary couldn't afford to support three people.
Tucker's family? Got shut down by Vlad.
Which was the end of the list of who could get custody, well living at least.
There was no way either of them were living with Vlad, and with that in mind, they decided to get creative.
--------------------
When Edward woke up, sitting at an old interrogation table in what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse (don't ask him which one, gothem had too many) and splitting pain in his head from most likely getting knocked out, his first thought was I knew it.
Gotham rogues had been disappearing only to reappear the next day with no memory and often in bad shape, like black mask and Bane.
Some of the rogues, such as penguin and Ivy, believed that they would be safe from the next attack.
Edward was slightly more pessimistic.
And it turned out he was right.
"ahem." Noise brought his attention to the warehouses other occupants.
Two teenagers.
It was strange to think that these two put Bane into a coma, but Edward had spent most of his nights getting the stuffing beaten out of him by a child wearing the colours of a traffic light so he was suitably wary.
"How can I help you?" Being polite was always a good idea when kidnapped by possible meta children (because no normal person could walk away from a fight with Bane, the bats don't qualify as normal.)
"Hi, I'm Jazz and this is Danny." The red head introduced herself and the blue eyed boy next to her. "Nice to meet you Mr Nygma."
"Nice to meet you as well." His mouth responded on autopilot as he panicked over being addressed by name, no one who kidnapped him did that ( which was mostly the bats taking him back to Arkham after another foiled plan) unless they were Amanda Waller.
"Right, now that we all know each other, let's get started." Danny said pulling out a sheet of paper and star themed pen from somewhere.
"Get started on what?" Torture? Edward would really like to know if that was the case.
"The interview." Jazz explained " You just have to answer a few questions then you get to go, after we wipe your memory of course, we have someone who we don't want knowing we're in Gotham."
"Oh, of course." Edward replied faintly as he processed the information given to him.
"And if you get job we'll contact you in a week." Danny added as he twirled his pen. "Got it?"
"Yes." Edward had never been more confused in his life.
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avocado-writing · 2 months ago
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hi hi! these prompts are so sweet - could I please send you "did you eat today?" + logan? I feel like he was on his own for so long and probably ate like shit (so might be soft when he’s asked if he’s taking care of himself like this?) 💖 thank you so much! Your request drabbles are all so stunning!
it's been a long while since logan was this looked after.
after everything that happened in the mansion he just didn't think he was a person worth receiving any kind of care, especially self-care. no. a man like him deserved to be punished for what he did, and a bottle to his lips every night was his self-flagelation. the years of alcohol put his body through hell, and food? well. it's been a long time since he ate something which didn't come in a greasy wrapper or needed to be nuked in the microwave.
if he were a normal man, no metal in his bones or healing in his genes, he'd be outright dead. as it stands when wade turned up, mentally and physically, he wasn't in great shape.
that is until he met you.
"did you eat today?" is a question he became accustomed to from your sweet little mouth. a concerned friend of wade's met on a lazy afternoon in the apartment, all smiles and soft edges, brow near-permanently creased in worry as you'd asked him when he'd last had a meal (and the answer was usually too long ago to be satisfactory). then without missing a beat you'd get to work feeding him. stealing eggs from wade and al's kitchen to whip him up an omelette, fixing him a sandwich if needs be, once you made a whole damn pie and sat there watching him devour slice after slice.
in fact, it wasn't long before you just started inviting him over for dinner, and then dinner became dinner dates, and then, well. that became him moving in.
your cooking is exceptional. that isn't just him being kind to the person he's sweet on, it's true. he doesn't know how you can put the same slices of bread together he does yet somehow make them taste like they've come from heaven but you do, day after day. just another little miracle from your never-ending supply of them. even now he's still not certain if he's deserving of your attention, your effort, your time, but you won't hear any pushback from him about it. these things are feely given to him, just like your heart is.
he knows what you really mean when you say "have you eaten today?" you mean, "I love you". you mean, "you're a person who's worth caring about."
he wraps his arms around your waist as you stand at the stovetop stirring a homemade stew. the smell drifts upwards and makes his mouth water, spiced beef and fine-diced vegetables never seeming so good. you laugh as he buries his face in your neck.
"you eaten, baby?" you ask.
he hasn't. but he'll get there.
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