#he’s been following me around all huddled up

[icarryitin]

Pretty

spencer reid/gn!reader

i realised i’ve done a lot of introspective narratives about Feelings™️ but not a whole lot of interaction so pls have some as a treat ilu🧡

word count: 1.9k // warnings: there is so much pining in here it could be a forest

You can’t sleep.

Sheep have been counted over, and over, and over again and still, it evades you. For a day where you’d been looking forward to nothing more than collapsing into bed at the end of it; you’re not best pleased. It’s a rough case as it is, you don’t want to be sleep deprived on top of everything else. But it just isn’t happening.

You count seventy three individual little swirly panels on the ceiling before you decide to get up. A walk might go a fair way to unravel your nerves enough to get a couple of hours, at least you hope it will.

With your jacket thrown over your old college hoodie, you don’t bother changing your sweatpants for jeans, and just slip your feet into your boots. Garcia would be outraged at the clashing colours. The look won’t win any best dressed awards, but at this time of night you’re more concerned with clipping your holster in place. You’re not taking any chances. Especially not with the victimology of this case - although you do have the advantage of knowing the Unsub is out there somewhere. It’s still not an overly comforting thought. But you’re out of options, it’s this or counting the rest of the ceiling panels and, frankly, you’re sure you’ll go blind if you have to stare at plaster swirls for much longer. So you tuck your phone and room key into your coat pockets, and leave the dingy little room behind for a while.

The hotel is, thankfully, almost completely dead, save for the night manager dozing at the front desk. Faded carpet plush under your feet, you’re quiet as you descend the stairs to the lobby and its dimmed lights. The world is dark outside the front doors and you hesitate. Is it really the best idea? To walk around in a city that’s home to a serial killer whose victims bear a striking resemblance to yourself? No, no it’s not. Especially not at, you tug your phone out of your pocket to check the time - jesus, two o’clock in the morning.

“Hey, you.”

It would honestly be wrong to say you’re not expecting his voice - if you were to guess which of the team would still be up and about at this time of night, you’d pick Spencer. It’s a no-brainer.

“Hey, me. Couldn’t sleep either?” Your smile is more strained than you mean for it to be when you turn it to him in response, he must have just come back, snuck in unnoticed while you were glaring at the time on your phone. He’s similarly dressed, coat huddled around mismatched pyjamas, another victim of case-induced insomnia then. His eyes are tired, they are more often than not these days. Yours aren’t all that better.

There’s a comfortable moment of silence where you just exist together, in the hushed quiet of the hotel lobby. Breathing in the calm of the night. It almost makes up for the chaos you know awaits the team in the morning.

“Is it nice out?” You ask, toeing the carpet with your scuffed boot.

“You’re not going for a walk, are you?”

“I’m armed, genius, and I’m twice as scary as anything out there.”

Spencer just huffs your name through an exasperated sigh and looks at you as you waltz past him with your hands in your pockets, turning at the waist to watch you go.

“So come with me.” There’s the vaguest hint of a teasing smile on your lips as you walk backwards towards to the front doors. He’s still not moved when you spin on your heel to push them open and walk off into the night - but you could live a hundred lives and still know the footsteps that follow you down the concrete steps anywhere.

He’s not exactly intimidating, but having him by your side in the small hours makes you feel safer than the weight of the gun at your hip ever could. You try not to think too hard about what that means.

“How many ceiling panels are in your room?” Your breath puffs out in a cloud, words winding around each other in the chill of the just about morning.

“A hundred and nine, if you count the ones that are cut in half.”

“Damn, I gave up at seventy three.”

“I’m not sure how much I believe that, I’ve never seen you give up on anything.” Spencer kicks a pebble into the road at the same moment your feet stop working.

To think he’s paid enough attention to you to notice a thing like that. Maybe you should expect it, especially being part of the team that studies human behaviour, but it still takes you by surprise. The idea that he could, would want to, notice things about you. It’s borderline dangerous. Stubbornness isn’t cute - you’ve been accused of being like a dog with a bone when it comes to your theories more than once. But the way he says it so casually yet so reverently, like it’s something to be proud of, like it’s something he admires. You just about manage to get your legs to cooperate before he can realise you’ve fallen a step behind.

He offers his elbow to you, an uncharacteristic first move, and you almost don’t know what to make of it. Spencer doesn’t initiate contact, ever. Or at least, you’ve never known him to unless it’s to check your tac-vest, and yet here he is. Hands in his pockets, sticking his arm out for you to take. You’re sliding your own arm through his before you even really realise it. Well, it would be rude not to wouldn’t it? When he’s offered so kindly?

In the name of safety, presumably. When there’s a killer on the loose and you just so happen to fit the victimology. Keeping you close is a precaution. You steer the conversation towards the case, if neither of you are resting then you might as well be trying to unravel the latest psycho’s motivations. Another precaution, although a little selfish this time around, to save your heart from falling even further for the man beside you.

“Statistically, people who are attractive are targeted more often that those who aren’t. This Unsub isn’t exactly going against the grain, he’s picking pretty victims.” He rattles off the thought as though it doesn’t threaten to stop your heart in your chest.

It was Spencer who’d pointed out the striking similarities between you and the victims in the first place.

“Doctor Reid, do you think I’m pretty?” Your scandalised gasp matches the hands you press against your chest in faux-shock. And, for once in his life, he doesn’t seem to have any words. He just stands there beside you, gulping like a fish. You like him too much to leave him squirming any longer than he already has.

“I, uh-“ He scrambles for a response.

“Because you’d be right, I am pretty.”

The answering chuckle you get is enough to encourage you to link your arm back through his.

“What you’re saying is,” You press on, shaking off the moment, giving him the time to recover, “There’s no shock factor. Single bullet to the head, dumped unceremoniously with the trash. There’s nothing that says ‘hey look at me’ about this guy.”

Spencer hums in agreement, suddenly very interested in his shoes as they traipse along the drizzle dampened pavement beside yours, and the conversation lulls. But you don’t mind. It’s never an uncomfortable silence with him, it never has been. You’re both more than content to just exist in the same space together - his is a calming presence, for all his nervous energy. There’s never any expectation to be anyone but yourself when you’re around him, no judgement, no pressure.

You’re more than happy to trundle along beside him between the streetlights, dodging puddles, the weight of your linked arms nestled comfortably between you. Except, you’re a profiler. So, for all his valiant efforts to keep your suspicions to a minimum, they’re just not quite effective enough. One glance at his face confirms that he’s thinking far too hard about something. You let your shoulder knock into his, your elbow in his side jolting him out of his thoughts.

“You’re doing it again.” It almost feels blasphemous to disturb the peace that’s settled over you.

Spencer releases his lip from between his teeth.

“There’s something we’re missing.”

“We’ll find it. With fresh eyes in the morning, I bet it smacks us right in the face.”

He doesn’t look like he believes you, and you’d have to agree with him there, but the furrow of his brow relaxes at your gentle reassurance. That’s enough for the moment.

A car door slams up the street and makes you both jump. For all the security the gun at your hip awards you, you’re still a little on edge. It’s just you, Spencer, and the door-slammer on the street - though the stranger seems to be so absorbed in his own world that he barely registers the pair of you. While you’re both fairly confident that the man walking towards you isn’t the Unsub, Spencer tugs you closer into his side by your linked arms all the same. He makes sure he’s solid where he stands between you and the passing stranger, even though you both know he wouldn’t stand a chance in that fight with his lanky frame. There isn’t a bit of you that minds the protection. Something catches in your chest, blooming, warming you from the inside out. It’s dangerous.

You’re not sure when you looped back onto yourselves, but the shadow of the hotel looms and suddenly there’s plush carpet under your feet again. Part of you is glad that your chances to embarrass yourself tonight are numbered. He’d be kind enough not to point it out if you did, though.

The elevator is too close to the front doors, there aren’t enough storeys to pass to get to the floor commandeered by the team, and your rooms are the first in the hallway. Doors opposite each other, the irony of the parallel isn’t lost on you. But it’s so rare that you get to spend time with him without any external pressures of a case or the prying eyes of more than a few colleagues. It feels a little unfair that the time has gone so quickly - an hour, your phone confirms when the screen lights up as you fish around in your pocket for your room key. There’s that pang in your chest again, the one that makes you feel like an impatient child. You know you can’t have him the way you want, you know why you can’t, you know it would probably end in heartbreak for everyone. But god, do you want him. It’d be worth every painful second.

Spencer’s voice across the hall stops your hand, room card outstretched halfway to the scanner in your fingers.

“For the record, I do.”

He’s chewing his lip again.

“You do what?”

You know what he means. He knows you know what he means. But neither of you will admit to it out loud. So it just hangs there, in the air between you, as you stand in front of your respective hotel room doors for a moment longer. And then he’s in his room, and you’re swiping your own keycard through the slot, and you’re shut away again. No less wired than you were when you left - but it’s hard to find it in yourself to worry about the sleep you definitely won’t be getting tonight, there’s no doubt about that.

Because Spencer Reid thinks you’re pretty.

if you’re reading this then thank you i love you i owe you my life i can’t wait to put these guys in more situations 🧡🧡🧡

#i rly thought i was gonna get this posted on friday and then decided i hated half of it huh #i still don’t know if i like chunks of this BUT we move #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds

[cookeybg]

Gotham Possesses

A cryptid Batfamily AU in which Gotham is the main character and follows its journey to consciousness as it follows its Bat and Birds. Chapters are short and a bit gloomy.

Main Characters: Gotham, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne

Honorable Mentions: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze, Riddler, Cobblepot (Penguin), Two Face (Harvey Dent), Superman (Clark Kent), Superboy (Jon Kent)

No romantic relationships

Stuff to know: Cryptid Batfamily, grim, Melancholic mood, Angst, this chapter has mentions of drug use, murder and unsolicited touching

Word Count: 933

[Here's my table of contents]

Chapter 10 - Gotham Watches

Death. That’s what happened when their warmth seeped into me, emptying, leaving behind a husk, a body no longer needed. Death. I had been born because of it, awakened. Death. It hung over me, clung to my Bat and our Birds. It tittered in the jester’s presence, in his arrival, in his exit. In the wake of a bullet fired. In the hands of anger and in the perception of love. In the tumbling of a dear butler, a father, when his neck snaps as he lands crooked. A kiss to the lips and he’s back, dazed, in pain, bound to me and the manor he holds so dear. Tethered to my shadows, forever serving in our love for our Bat. He moves on, dusts himself, there is dinner to be served. It is the thing that the living must always meet, the thing I greet and make my own. Their souls and warmth fuel me, a near endless supply. It is a curious thing, to watch them. I float around a young girl, she sits in the dark, I’m her only company. She is not afraid, not happy, used to it. She was told to never turn on the light, never answer the door, the phone. When she was alone she was to stay hidden and wait. A door opens quietly, she stiffens, then relief as her mother calls for her in a tired voice. I move on. I linger in a building where the jester laughs maniacally in his glass cage. He suddenly stops and stares, his gaze following me, his smile widening, unnerving. I stay away. Slither past the female jester, the blue cold man, the green woman who sprouts life on my soil, the man who mumbles riddles, the female cat whose too familiar with my Bat. All uninteresting, captured. Much more fun when they are free. I slip through old brick loosening the mortar. I caress a young woman, passed out on the cold floor. Her skin nearly as cold as the stone. She smiles as her final, shuttering breath escapes, a needle tumbling to the ground. My senses alert me to look up. I see a red cape fly by, avoiding me. As he should. His presence casts a heavy shadow, my Bat does not see me when he’s near. Leaves with him for periods at a time, far from my gaze. More often than not my Bat tells the red cape, whose skin is far too warm and whose smile reflects the sun, to stay away. It’s satisfying. I dance in the clubs, enjoying the manic thrum, the unbridled joy of its patrons. Some if not most, using something to increase their vivacity. Not all will make it through to morning. A hooked nosed man in a black hat smiles from the second floor window. Plotting, monocle gleaming.

A boy steals a half drunk bottle that his father was hugging in his sleep. The boy tosses it out the window, the sound of shattering glass echoes down in the street, not uncommon. He huddles under his blankets a bag of frozen peas pressed to his let eye. His mother won’t be back for another few hours. I hear the mumbling of a man, arguing with himself. A silver coin gleams under the dim light of an abandoned building. He shoots his gun when the coin lands, a body falls to the ground, warmth seeps into my earth, salty. Another body to be sunk into my harbor. Laughter distracts me away. I sweep in on a lovers cuddling, enjoying the images playing on a screen. His arm loosely dangling over her shoulders. Her gaze is reminiscent to how I stare at my Bat. The man will be gone by morning, he was never planning to stay, he will not let her know. Life glows within her belly. New potential. I sink down into my depths. There’s a meeting, men and women in white masks. Myths, creatures that should not exist. Watching, just as I do. Abominations that must be purged, a new mystery for my Bat. I waft upward through the grates. I watch a man, shivering, digging through the trash amongst the rats. Searching for something, maybe food, maybe something to numb. Unsuccessful, he moves to another dumpster. I wrap around the clock tower, a red headed woman sits typing furiously on a computer. She also watches and observes as much as I do. I help her steer the cameras in the right direction. A female bat stands beside her, stitched mouth, silent. My first bird sleeps contorted, on the manor’s couch. Tired from a long grueling night. My second hugs his knees to his chest, woken from his sleep. I encourage him to calm and close his eyes. My third hasn’t gone to bed, wide eyed and wired, placing theories on a board. My fourth has escaped, our bond shows me that he is in another city, asleep next to a body far to warm to be human, far too bright. My Bat, with labored breathing, is forced to dream. Forced in bed by the older man. I shape my shadows into hands, they aren’t perfect, sharp ends. I slide them down his overheated chest. My shadows press into his skin, ecstatic with the proximity. I lick his wounds to try and heal them quicker. He tastes sweet. He is not bound to me, not yet. I wait in anticipation for when we can be one, and settle on his side content. I will continue to watch, I doubt I will ever tire of it.

The end!

I hope you have enjoyed Gotham Possesses. I will be posting it on Ao3, maybe tomorrow. I'm a bit sad about it ending but also proud of myself. This is the second thing I wrote that I posted and was super nervous to do so. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with reading this and endured my lack of editing.

I will be planning a series of POVs from the birds. I hope you look forward to them :)

Please feel free to comment, I get rly happy when I see your reactions.

#gotham #gotham city #fanfic #fanfiction #cryptid batfam #cryptid batman #batman #robin #dc robin #bruce wayne #damian wayne #damian al ghul #jon kent #dick grayson #dc riddler #dc red hood #dc red robin #tim drake #tim drake wayne #oswald cobblepot #the joker #harley quinn #poison ivy #mr freeze #two face #batman rogues #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #alfred pennyworth #he dies in this one

[cozy-the-overlord]

There’s nothing in the world that will make you feel quite as good about yourself as when your anxious pet comes running to you for comfort because they’re scared

#we’re getting our roof replaced — trying to get it fixed before the next storm hits next week lol #but it’s basically nonstop pounding and drilling up on the roof and the whole house is rattling #and my two anxious victorian cat-children have been in an absolute state of panic ever since it started #but loki heard me walking by and peeped his head out from under the bed #and came running to me all frightened #he’s been following me around all huddled up #when i sat down he came and sat next to me #he keeps jumping at very noise but he’s letting me pet him #poor baby #but it made me so 🥹🥹🥹🥹 that he’s scared but he trusts me to keep him safe #poor rocket is too scared to even come out #rocket’s the sweetest little boy and he gets so so frightened and anxious #cozys kitties

[billymayslesbian]

Before Lionblaze could argue, another shape burst through the billowing smoke to stand beside Squirrelflight. His eyes glared; his gray fur was matted together and stuck with bits of burnt leaf and twig. Confused by the smoke and flames, Hollyleaf almost thought she was seeing one of her warrior ancestors, until she recognized Ashfur.

Squirrelflight dropped the branch. “Help me push it into the fire!” she yowled.

Grabbing the branch in strong jaws, Ashfur thrust it past the wall of flame and into the ever-narrowing patch of ground where Hollyleaf and her brothers huddled. But Hollyleaf didn’t feel any sense of relief. There was a look in Ashfur’s eyes that she didn’t understand: the look of a cat who had just spotted an unexpected juicy bit of prey.

The branch made a bridge through the flames, but Ashfur stood at the other end of it, blocking the way to safety. Lionblaze nudged Jayfeather to his paws; Hollyleaf took a step toward the branch, then paused. She felt a cold weight in herbelly when she looked into Ashfur’s glittering blue eyes.

“Ashfur, get out of the way.” Squirrelflight’s voice was puzzled. “Let them get out!”

“Brambleclaw isn’t here to look after them now,” Ashfur sneered.

Hollyleaf felt her fur beginning to rise. What did Ashfur mean?

Lionblaze’s golden pelt was bristling, too. “What have you done with my father?” he howled through the flame.

Ashfur looked at him pityingly; his eyes were twin points of fire amid the burning forest. “Why would I waste my time with Brambleclaw?”

The main branch was too solid to catch fire easily, but the leaves on it had shriveled and the twigs were beginning to smoke. Hollyleaf realized that they didn’t have much time before their bridge to safety would be ablaze.

Squirrelflight staggered up to Ashfur. Hollyleaf had never seen her mother so angry. Her fur bristled with fury; she looked like a warrior of TigerClan. Yet it was obvious that the climb to the top of the cliff, followed by her struggle with the branch, had weakened her, and she was exhausted.

“Your quarrel with Brambleclaw has to stop,” she hissed. “Too many moons have passed. You have to accept that I’m Brambleclaw’s mate, not yours. You can’t keep trying to punish Brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be.”

Ashfur’s ears flicked up in surprise. “I have no quarrel with Brambleclaw.”

Hollyleaf exchanged a shocked glance with Lionblaze. “That’s not how it looks to me,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t care less about Brambleclaw,” Ashfur continued. “It’s not his fault he fell for a faithless she-cat.”

Faithless? A growl began to build in Hollyleaf ’s throat, but then she stopped and watched the cats on the other side of the blazing branches. Something ominous was taking place in front of her, and even with flame roaring around them she felt a sudden chill. She shrank closer to Lionblaze and Jayfeather, whose head was up, his sightless eyes intent, as if he could see the confrontation between his mother and Ashfur.

“I know you think I’ve never forgiven Brambleclaw for stealing you from me, but you’re wrong, and so is every cat that thinks so. My quarrel is with you, Squirrelflight.” Ashfur’s voice shook with rage. “It always has been.”

Horrified, Hollyleaf took a step back and felt her hind paws begin to slip on the edge of the cliff. Her head spun as lightning stabbed out and thunder drowned all other sounds, even the roaring fire. For a heartbeat she dangled over empty air, and she let out a strangled yowl.

Then she felt firm teeth meet in her scruff; blinking against the smoke, she realized that Lionblaze was hauling her back to safety. But there was no safety: only the hungry flames, and Ashfur blocking the end of the branch with fury in his eyes. Fiery sparks floated down on all three young cats, scorching their fur, and flames licked the underside of the branch; fear flooded afresh through Hollyleaf when she saw that it was already beginning to smolder.

Ashfur has to let us get out! But Hollyleaf couldn’t find any words to plead with him. What was happening here didn’t have anything to do with them, even if they died because of it.

“All this was moons ago.” Squirrelflight sounded puzzled. “Ashfur, I had no idea you were still upset.”

“Upset?” Ashfur echoed. “I’m not upset. You have no idea how much pain I’m in. It’s like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can’t understand how any of you failed to see the blood. . . .”

His eyes clouded and his voice took on a wild, distant tone, as if he could see the blood spilling out of him now, sizzling on the burning ground. Terror burst through Hollyleaf and she pressed closer to her brothers. This cat was more dangerous than the storm or the fire, or the fall lurking perilously close to her hind paws.

Desperately she tried to step onto the end of the branch. At once Ashfur rounded on her, fully conscious again, his teeth bared in a snarl.

“Stay there!” Turning to face Squirrelflight but keeping one paw on the branch, he hissed, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you’d know the real meaning of pain.”

Hollyleaf ’s shocked gaze met Lionblaze’s. “He tried to kill Firestar?” she gasped. “He’s mad!”

Determination glittered in Lionblaze’s eyes, and he bunched his muscles for a giant leap. “I’m going to fight him.”

“No!” Hollyleaf fastened her teeth in his shoulder fur. “You can’t!” Her words were muffled now. “He’ll just push you into the fire.”

“Brambleclaw saved Firestar then,” Ashfur went on to Squirrelflight. “But he’s not here now. He’s not here—but your kits are.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes blazed. For a heartbeat Hollyleaf thought she was going to pounce on the gray warrior, but she knew that exhausted and in pain, her mother would have no chance. Squirrelflight seemed to realize it, too. She drew herself up, head high; she was trembling, but her voice was clear and brave.

“Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire.”

“You don’t understand.” Ashfur looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time; his voice was puzzled and petulant. “This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits . . .” He looked through the flames at Hollyleaf and her brothers, his eyes narrowing to dark blue slits. “If you watch them die, then you’ll know the pain I felt.”

The flames crackled threateningly closer; Hollyleaf felt as if the heat was about to sear her pelt into ashes. She edged backward, only to feel the edge of the hollow give way under her hind paws. The three of them were pressed tightly together, so close that if one of them lost their balance, all three would be dragged off the cliff. Hollyleaf couldn’t control the trembling that shook her whole body as her glance flickered between the cliff and the fire.

Jayfeather was crouched close to the ground, looking tinier than ever with his pelt slicked flat by the rain. Lionblaze’s claws were unsheathed, glinting as the lightning flashed out again, but the tension in his haunches didn’t come from preparing to leap at Ashfur; it came from the effort of keeping himself on the top of the cliff.

Squirrelflight raised her head, her gaze locked on Ashfur’s crazed eyes. “Kill them, then,” she meowed. “You won’t hurt me that way.”

Ashfur opened his jaws to reply, but said nothing. Hollyleaf and her brothers stared at their mother. What was Squirrelflight saying?

Squirrelflight took a step away from them, and glanced carelessly over her shoulder. Her green eyes were fiercer than Hollyleaf had ever seen them, with an expression she couldn’t read.

“If you really want to hurt me, you’ll have to find a better way than that,” Squirrelflight snarled. “They are not my kits.”

#drug mention #saw one where op was making fun of people for not smoking #pic

[inkskinned]

probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

#this is true #writeblr #warm up #relatedly for some reason one of our Favorite Jokes #amongst the Siblings #is like - ''this is so good u will love it'' #while we are reacting to something we OBVIOUSLY find viscerally disgusting #like we will be actively retching and be like ''nooooo it's so good'' #to the point that i sometimes get nervous if someone outside my family is like oh u should try it its good #(obvi we never force each other to eat anything. we are all just curious birds and #like. we're GONNA try the new thing.) #edit to answer why we had so much vanilla: #my mom is a very good cook and we LOVE to bake. so she just had a lot of staples in the house. #it's one of those things that's like. have u ever continuously thought ''ah i should get butter im probably out'' #even tho u are not out of butter. so u end up with like 5 years of butter. #my mom would do that in a costco but like with vanilla extract #to be fair we WERE always using WAY TOO MUCH bc we were kids #so like she was right to stock up #ps. yes we were VERY sick after this lol i just didn't want to include it in the post in case ppl had an ick about that #u can tell it's real bc we knew "oh no we fucked up that's too much vanilla to waste'' but our reaction was to just. keep drinking it #> sibling understanding that vanilla extract isn't free > knowledge mother doesnt mind if we use it for milkshakes #> sibling choice to maybe get in a loophole of ''not wasting it'' if we drink it bc that's the same as using it (not throwing it out) #listen bud i was like 13 and my sister was like 9 #when my mom discovered this we. got in. A LOT. of trouble. a lot of it. a LOT of it. #3rd edit bc i guess it isn't clear - i am 1 of my brother's 2 little sisters #i am the middle child #out of all the ways i have had to explain a post before being like ''did u forget a middle child can happen'' is my favorite

[wondipity]

mean

ʚɞ heeseung x fem! reader ʚɞ (slight) angst, fluff ʚɞ warnings: none! ʚɞ

(a/n): @heeliopheelia this probably isn't what you wanted but thanks for the idea !!

lee heeseung was scared. scared over how fucking cute you looked laying in bed wearing his flannel shirt. he knew he messed up today when he lashed out at you, yelling and calling you needy. it broke his heart watching you swallow back your tears and give him a shaky, obviously faked, smile.

so now he was going to do whatever to make it up to you.

“hi baby,” he said, laying down next to you and wrapping his arm around your waist. you just shrugged and pushed it off, causing a small crack in his heart. he hummed and placed his chin on your shoulder, watching you scowl and move away.

he watched, his gaze half lidded as you got out of the bed, grabbing a blanket and pillow before migrating to the living room, leaving him in bed with his arm over where you used to lay. now he really knew he messed up.

heeseung got out of the bed and followed you into the living room. there you were on the couch, huddled up in your blanket, the light from your phone illuminating your face in the dark light of the room. all heeseung wanted to do was jump on you and kiss you all over. but before he could do that he had to do something else first.

“hey,” he said, forcing a smile as he knelt down beneath you, placing his chin on the edge of the couch. you looked at him and the bambi eyes he was giving you before rolling your eyes and looking away, continuing your silent treatment. but from the corner of his eyes heeseung could see your lips twitch up into a soft smile.

“hey girl, what’s gotten you so upset?” heeseung said, watching as your eyes flickered to him. “well,” you began and heeseung’s heart raced as he got to hear your beautiful voice again. “my boyfriend has been a little bit mean to me today.” you said, smirking at heeseung’s wide eyes.

he gasped in faux surprise and gazed up at you, hiding the smile that was threatening to twitch through. “your boyfriend?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at your sad nod. “yeah, he’s being a real asshole nowadays and it’s breaking my heart.” you replied, bringing your hands up and making a gesture that signified your heart breaking.

heeseung felt like an asshole but still couldn’t hold back the smile that you brought to his face. “my he seems like a real jerk,” he said, grinning ear to ear. your eyebrows furrowed together as you gently slapped heeseung’s arm.

“hey!” you said in fake anger. “don’t insult my boyfriend like that, only i’m allowed to!” heeseung’s cheeks ached from smiling at how cute you were being. but he still needed to apologize.

“baby,” he said, standing up to loom over you. you hummed and closed your eyes, nestling your cheek into his palm as he cupped your face. “i’m sorry baby,” heeseung breathed, placing a featherlight kiss on your forehead. “i was stressed out and tired and shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you like that.”

you smile up at him and kiss his thumb. “it’s all good seungie, sorry for ignoring you.” heeseung couldn’t have cared less about that as he smiled, jumping into your arms and nuzzling his face into your neck, leaving soft kisses there.

“i love you, my pretty baby,” he said, closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of the blanket that you were currently throwing around his tall frame. “i love you too,” you whispered into his ear, leaving a soft kiss there as you wrapped your arms around him.

“even if you are a little mean sometimes-”

“hey i said sorry!”

#wondipity #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #heeseung fluff #heeseung x reader #heeseung angst #lee heeseung #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung angst #enhypen

[toxicanonymity]

thoughts

1.6k / joel miller x virgin!reader / master

sequel to Aches but can read alone. Next: Needs. WARNINGS: I8+ mdni, big girthy age gap (20/50s) only one sleeping bag, pining, fingering, grinding, jacking off, hand job, mutual masturbation, innocence, pet names. No use of y/n.

🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤

“You don’t have to do it for me,” you whisper.  

The problem is, the more Joel relieves you, the more often you seem to ache.  The more you think about him and his body - his body pressed against yours, wrapped around yours.  Inside yours - It’s what you think about all day, every day now.  It’s getting really bad.  It’s hard to keep eye contact sometimes.  

-

Earlier, you were both rummaging through an abandoned convenience store. Joel walked up and asked, “Find anything ya like?”  You turned around and your eyes instantly fell on his tight jeans.  He followed your gaze down, then slowly stepped toward you.  “Hmm?” he prompted you.  

You stammered, “Sorry. What?”  

He smiled to himself.  “See anything ya like?” 

“I, uh-”  

“In the store, honey.”  He briefly glanced around the building.  “Find anything good?” 

“Oh.  No, I guess not.” Your whole face was hot.  

He cupped your burning cheek and his brow furrowed as he asked, “You okay, sweetie? You’re warm.” 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you whispered with your eyes drowning in his.  A pool was forming in your panties and his touch on your face made you throb between the legs.  It was that moment you realized how out of control your desires were getting.  It was a constant distraction. 

-

Now you’re huddled in his sleeping bag as usual.  Joel is spooning you with his hard dick pressed against you.  Your top leg is back slightly behind you, between his legs, to make room for his hand between your thighs. He’s two knuckles deep and you’re already close to falling apart. He’s been helping you for a couple of weeks now, and it gets easier and easier to let yourself come. 

“Course I don’t have to,” he says and pushes another finger into you.  You inhale a chest full of air as he pushes his digits to the hilt and curls them.  Your hips lift into his hand which was already soaked with your arousal before he inserted a single digit.  “Why? Want me to stop?” Your clit rubs against his slick palm as he expertly works his fingers. 

“No,” you whisper. “I don’t want you to stop.” 

“Good,” he murmurs, moving his fingers rhythmically as you grind into his hand.  Then he whispers in your ear,  “Cause I kinda like doin’ it.”  

You moan softly. 

“Ya know,” he says softly, “You might like helpin’ me, too.”  

You’ve thought so much about his cock.  You’ve felt it pressed hard against you so many times through his boxers and your panties.  You’ve never touched it though, not with your hands.  You haven’t felt the skin, except one time when it was accidentally peeking through his boxers and the tip touched your lower back, making a wet spot on your shirt.  When you flinched, he apologized. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Maybe.” 

“Why don’t we find out,” he murmurs. “try just a few seconds?”

You swallow, ashamed of your eagerness for anything involving his cock.  “Okay,” you say hesitantly.  

“Good girl.”  He takes his hand away from between your legs for just long enough to free his aching manhood from his boxers and lube it with your slick. “Gimme your hand, sweetie.”  

“I dunno how or anything,” you tell him. You clench your thighs together, still in need of relief.  You’re not sure if you’ve ever ached this badly.  

“That’s okay.  Don’t gotta do anything.” 

You slowly reach back, offering him your hand as you crane your neck to look to his eyes for reassurance.  It’s too dark to see, but you can still feel what his warm eyes would look like. 

“Think you’re gonna like this. But if ya don’t, ya don’t have to, okay?” He wraps your hand around his cock upside down. “Yeah,” he whispers.  “Just kinda hold it. That’s all ya gotta do.” His breathing is heavier with your hand touching his stiff cock. It’s larger than you thought it would be.  You always imagined you’d easily be able to wrap your hand around one.  

Joel thrusts into your slick hand and you feel a stab of need.

“How’s that?” he asks, thrusting slowly into your hand again with a barely audible grunt. 

“Good,” you whisper, holding your hand behind you. The skin of his shaft is so smooth. Now more than ever, you’re aching to be filled.  

“Attagirl,” he murmurs.  “Still want my help, right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe.  

“Good girl.” He reaches his arm over yours and slides his hand between your legs again. He softly groans when he feels how much wetter you are than you were just a minute ago.  All this, just from touching his cock.  “God damn,” he whispers. 

“What?”

“Nothin', baby.”  

It would be hard to say what you prefer - having his cock thrust into your hand or against your body. But finally feeling it naked, feeling its shape, the softness of the skin, the impossible firmness of the erection – it takes your breath away.  He slides two fingers into your cunt and pumps them at the same slow rhythm he’s thrusting into your hand. 

Your pleasure builds rapidly, and you badly need release. “Doin’ great, baby,” he says in a deep, gruff whisper. “Just perfect.” He gradually increases the pace,  moving his fingers and cock in unison.  His cock fills your hand as his fingers fill your dripping cunt.  You’re keenly aware of what you’d rather be filled with.  

He softly grunts into your hair.  “Ohh, yeah,” he sighs as he thrusts into your hand and pumps his fingers.

You whimper at the edge of your climax, your upper back pressing into his chest and your hips grinding desperately into his large hand as his fingers fuck you. Your whole body tenses. 

He talks you through it soothingly as usual, lips planted near your ear. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, “you’re there, I got ya.”  Your hips push desperately into the palm of his hand, and his hand pushes back just right.  You whine his name as your core finds its stuttering release. The pleasure is more explosive than ever.  

“Good girl,” he whispers.  You recover for a few seconds, then turn around to face him.  He quickly folds down the unzipped sleeping bag for more space and rolls onto his back.  “You wanna keep helpin’?”

You nod and whisper, “yeah.” Then you add “Am I doing okay?” 

“'Course you are, baby. Get your hand wet between your legs now,” he says, which embarrasses you.  

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of, remember?” 

You take his cock in  your hand again and he covers it with his, showing you how tight to grip it and how to stroke it over the head. 

“Good girl.” 

-

Once you’ve got the hang of it, he asks, “You like helpin’ me?” 

You nod as you keep stroking his cock.  

Joel says, “Mmm hmm,” and looks at you curiously.  “Why’d ya say I don’t have to help?” His breathing is still heavy, but he’s trying to control it as you talk. 

You open your mouth but hesitate to answer. Instead, you stare down into the darkness, imagining what his cock must look like based on all the details that are gliding in and out of your hand.  He’s soooo hard.  

“You can tell me anything, pretty girl.”  He takes a deep breath. “We figure stuff out together, remember?” He breathes again. “Always do.” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, then you swallow. “I dunno how to say it,” you admit.  

“Do your best,” he says. 

“Since you’ve been helping me, I’ve been feeling it more often.”

“You have?” he asks. “Like how?” His hips subtly move as you keep stroking his cock. 

“Like during the day.  Randomly.” 

“That’s okay, baby.” 

“But it aches, and it’s distracting.” 

“Distracting?”  His voice becomes more strained. 

“I have a lot of thoughts all the time.” 

“What kinda thoughts, baby?”  His voice has a sense of urgency. 

“About you.” 

He moans softly. “Uh-huh. Like what?” 

“Um-”

“Tell me anything, baby,” he quickly reassures you, nearly out of breath.   

“About this,” you whisper. You pause to give his cock a squeeze to make sure he knows that’s what you’re talking about.  “Yeah, about this.” Then you continue stroking.  

“Ohh baby,” he exhales. “Course ya do.” 

“All the time,” you whisper. 

“And what about it?”  he pants.  

“I’m not sure,” you mutter.  

“Thinkin’ ‘bout me bein’ inside you?” he asks, still panting.  He moans softly.  

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

“Ohhhhhh, God,” he sighs as he begins to pulse into your hand. “God damn, baby,” he breathes as he releases his last hot, sticky rope into your fist.   

-

Joel catches his breath, then says, “'Course ya have those thoughts, sweetie. I have the same thoughts. Everyone does."  

“You do?” 

“It’s normal,.  They teach biology in FEDRA school right?” 

“Yeah.”

“It’s biology, honey.  Our bodies feel things for each other.  They wanna be together in the way they’re meant to.  It’s how we work -  Nothin’ but science.” 

You’re not sure how that’s supposed to help you.  

He reaches for his backpack and grabs some paper to wipe off your hand and his stomach. 

“So what do I do about it?” you ask him. 

He’s quiet for a few seconds.  "Let’s think about it, honey.  We’ll figure it out together.” 

“Okay.” 

“We’ll figure it out, sweetie.  We always do.” 

“Yeah.” 

He wraps himself around you and kisses your head, then you say good night.  You think about what he said so matter of factly.  The thought of it excites you but also scares you.  Especially now that you’ve felt how big he is with your hand for scale. 

🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤

Thank you so much for reading and engaging.  Love you guys <33

if you like this, please check out my dbf x innocent virgin! reader fic Left in Lincoln (dbf x virgin) which has been ongoing since April. Read warnings. Also, my master list has a virginity section on it.

You can subscribe to @toxicfics for notifications and @toxicrecs for my fic recs.

-

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore  @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy  @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk  @filthfairy  @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles  @harriedandharassed  @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy  @cutesyscreenname  @weddingfairy  @pedropascal-whore  @spideysimpossiblegirl  @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller drabble #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #perv!joel miller #dark!joel miller #pedro pascal #pervy!joel miller #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️ #joel jacks off #PPCU jacks off #PPCU jacks off ☠️

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

I wanna dance with somebody

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22

Prompt: Sports

Rated: T

CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner

Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington

Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!

Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!

It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.

“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.” 

“That all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?” 

She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.” 

Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow. 

Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels. 

There’s no way he could’ve denied her. 

The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that. 

“You coming?” 

She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit. 

“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.” 

She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.” 

*

The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet. 

“Oh hey, can I help you?” 

Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute! 

“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-” 

Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer. 

“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”

He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both. 

“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?” 

Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was … indisposed.” 

“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y’know?” 

Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?” 

Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that? 

“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.” 

“Oh, erm …” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-” 

“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!” 

Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.” 

Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox. 

“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.” 

Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him. 

Legs. 

And an ass. 

Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile. 

Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe. 

Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament. 

It’s Good Housekeeping. 

Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again. 

Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with. 

He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

[pucksandpower]

Heyyyyy how are you? Hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself. How is medical school hope you're doing good. So I was thinking about the grid kids series and a scenario appeared in my head. So basically the baby still a toddler say a swear word and when asked who taught her that she just tell she heard that from Yuki, but in reality it was the grid kids that braided her with candy. It's just so funny to me

Grid Kids: Potty Mouth

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids help expand their sister’s vocabulary in interesting ways

Series Masterlist

It’s a lazy Saturday morning and you’re making breakfast. Your toddler daughter is happily perched on Sebastian’s lap at the kitchen island, babbling about anything and everything while he nods along seriously.

The grid kids lounge around, still half-asleep. Game night ran late, fueled by one too many Red Bulls and everyone’s chronic competitiveness.

Charles yawns loudly. “I don’t know how she has so much energy already.”

“Right?” Lando grumbles. “It should be illegal to be awake before 10 am on weekends.”

Max stumbles to the coffee maker, nearly tripping over George who’s fallen back asleep on the floor. Mick and Lance are slumped together on the couch, bleary-eyes barely open.

As you finish cooking, you turn to your daughter. “Okay sweetie, breakfast is ready!”

She grins, kicking her little legs excitedly. As Sebastian goes to lift her into the highchair, she suddenly shrieks “FUCK!”

A stunned silence descends on the room. Eight heads swivel towards the little girl, eyes wide. Sebastian and you exchange horrified looks.

“Where did you learn that word?” You ask gently.

She blinks up at you innocently. “Yuki said it!”

The grid kids practically dive over each other to appear shocked and appalled.

“Yuki? Using language like that?” George exclaims.

“How disgraceful!” Max adds. “We’ll be having a stern talking to with him about this.”

You raise an eyebrow at them.

Something seems … off.

Sebastian kneels to your daughter’s level. “Honigbienchen, are you sure Yuki said that? Not one of your brothers?”

She nods vigorously. “Yuki said it when we were playing race cars!”

The boys subtly sigh in relief.

Crisis averted.

Or so they think.

“You know, I don’t recall Yuki having a chance to play with you recently,” you say slowly.

A tense pause.

Sideways glances are exchanged.

The grid kids develop a sudden fascination with the ceiling.

“Alright boys, enough playing dumb. Who taught her the swear word?” Sebastian asks, his Dad Voice™ making them squirm.

“It was Max!”

“It was Charles!”

“It was Lando!”

“It was Lance!”

“It was George!”

“It was Mick!”

They all exclaim in unison, pointing fingers.

A fierce blame game erupts as their bickering intensifies to chaos.

“Enough!” You shout over the noise.

The six drivers fall silent, heads hanging guiltily.

You sigh, lifting your daughter into her highchair. “We’re very disappointed in all of you. You know she’s at the stage where she repeats everything she hears.”

“We’re sorry,” Mick says quietly. “We should have been more responsible.” The others nod, mumbling apologies.

“And we’re sorry we made you say it was Yuki, munchkin,” Lance adds. “We just didn’t want Mom and Dad to be mad at us.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “Lying makes it worse. But we know you didn’t mean any harm.”

“Tell you what,” you offer. “Whoever teaches her the most educational words this week is forgiven. Good, clean words only!”

The boys’ faces light up. Charles grabs a notepad and they huddle together, beginning to strategize.

You can’t help but smile.

Crisis averted.

***

What follows is a week of mayhem.

“Look Lando, it’s an AARDVARK!” George points excitedly at a cartoon aardvark in a book. “Aardvark starts with A!”

Lando nods seriously. “Aardvark. Aaaaardvark.”

Your daughter claps her little hands. “Aawdvawk!”

The boys high-five. One point for them.

Later, Max drives his toy model RB22 towards her. “Vroom vroom! This is a race car! It has DRS. Can you say drag reduction system?”

She scrunches her nose. “Dwag wedection system!”

“Nice one!” Lance whispers. Max grins, ruffling your daughter’s hair smugly.

At dinner, Charles scans his food. “Mmm, broccoli! This is BROCCOLI!” He holds up a roasted floret. “Can you try and say it?”

“Bwock-lee!” Your daughter squeals through a mouthful of the vegetable. Charles pumps his fist.

Mick doesn’t waste time and pulls out a small globe as soon as she finishes eating, pointing at a certain country. “Look! It’s Germany! That’s where Papa and I come from. Can you say Germany?”

Your daughter scrunches her face in concentration. “Ger...mummy?”

Mick chuckles, “Close enough!”

Sebastian winks at you with a smirk, “Well Mummy sure did conquer Germany, didn’t she?”

You playfully raise an eyebrow, “If by Germany you mean one particularly sexy German driver, then yes, I guess I did.” The grid kids pretend to gag.

Too bad. You’ll take the payback any way you can.

This continues for days. Meal times become vocabulary lessons, walks around the house are accompanied by exaggerated pointing at objects. Books are read with ridiculous enthusiasm, animal noises amplified.

You and Sebastian exchange amused looks as the boys vie for your daughter’s attention, each hoping to teach her the most complex word or phrase. Their efforts have become less about earning forgiveness and more about one-upping each other.

By the end of the week, her vocabulary has expanded exponentially. The boys even taught themselves some new words in the process.

As the boys argue over who should be declared the winner during dinner the following Saturday, Sebastian whistles loudly. “Enough! You all went above and beyond this week with her.”

You smile. “You’re all forgiven. And I think we can thank you for increasing her word bank more in a week than months of normal teaching.”

They cheer, exchanging pleased grins.

You lean down to your daughter’s level. “Now, can we agree no more bad words?”

She nods seriously. “No fuck!”

The room descends into chaos once again.

***

It’s race day and the paddock is hectic as usual. You and Sebastian finally relented and brought your daughter along after weeks of nonstop begging from the grid kids to have their sister on the sideline cheering for them.

As you walk through the pit lane, she squeals and points. “Max! Lando! Chawles! Lance! Mick! Geowge!”

The boys grin, waving enthusiastically as they rush to crowd around her, cooing over how big she’s gotten in the few days they haven’t seen her while she giggles and soaks up the attention.

Nearby, Yuki is chatting with his trainer. Your daughter tugs Sebastian’s hand and skips over to him. “Yuki! Hi Yuki!”

Yuki turns, smiling. “Hi, o-joh-chan! Excited for the race?”

She nods, pigtails bouncing. As Yuki leans down to chat with her, a two-way radio falls off a passing golf cart, narrowly missing his foot.

“Ah shit!” He exclaims before freezing. Your daughter’s eyes go wide. The grid kids stiffen, bracing themselves.

Yuki stares at you and Sebastian in horror, realizing his mistake. “Oops! Uh, I mean ... shoot!”

But it’s too late. A devilish grin spreads across your daughter’s face.

This is her moment.

“SHIT!” She shouts gleefully.

Yuki turns bright red as laughter erupts around him. “I am so sorry!” He sputters. “I didn’t mean to—”

Sebastian just chuckles, patting his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we know it was an accident.”

Your daughter is thrilled with this new word she can very clearly enunciate. She spots two team principals across the paddock.

“Chwistian! Shit!” She yells. “Toto! Shiiit!”

Christian trips over his own feet. Toto turns an alarming shade of splotchy red but can’t help laughing. You and Sebastian hurry over, trying to shush her excited swearing.

The grid kids are crying with laughter. Charles is wheezing. “This is even better than I imagined!”

Max high-fives your daughter. “That’s my girl! You tell them!”

You shoot him a warning look and he gives you an innocent grin. Sebastian scoops up your still-cursing daughter, bouncing her gently. “Alright sweetie, I think that’s enough for today.”

Her lip wobbles. “But it’s fun, Papa.”

The boys are zero help, doubled over cackling. Yuki still looks mortified.

Sebastian kisses your daughter’s forehead, stifling a grin. “I know but let’s keep the excitement PG for now, okay? You can say those words when you’re a grown up too.”

You take her little hand, ready to steer her away before she can scar any more eardrums. As you walk off, she peeks over Sebastian’s shoulder and yells one last farewell.

“Bye Yuki! SHIIIT!”

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #sebastian vettel x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lance stroll x reader #george russell x reader #lando norris x reader #mick schumacher x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #sebastian vettel imagine #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc imagine #lance stroll imagine #george russell imagine #lando norris imagine #mick schumacher imagine #yuki tsunoda imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 drabble

[sunrizef1]

What happens in Vegas pt 1.5

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Authors Note: had to write this twice because tumblr deleted it lol. Not sure how to tag this so I’m just tagging my general tags. Proofread but not well.

Warnings: Blood, cursing

Summary: When the drivers found Max cheating

Masterlist

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“Dannyyyyyy” your voice rings out through the noise of the crowded club, your words catching the attention of the Australian in question.

The Aussie turns his head, a grin on his face as he holds up a bottle of champagne he seemed to have convinced the bartender to hand over. You laugh at his state, drunkenness clear in the way he sways as he staggers over to you. You wrap an arm around his tall shoulder, leaning on him in order to sort out your own less-than-sober state.

Lights flash brightly around the two of you, fellow drivers and F1 employees spread throughout the club, not including anyone from Red Bull for some reason.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to care, vodka practically running through your veins as you celebrated your win. You had won your home race and you were surrounded by your friends. The absence of some people you didn’t really like didn’t bother you all too much.

“Have you seen Logan?” You look up toward the Aussie again, eyes darting quickly around the club for your friend. You had been with the blond practically the whole night but as soon as you had gone looking for Danny, he had disappeared from your side.

Luckily, you didn’t have to search for long as another arm comes and wraps around your shoulder suddenly. You turn your head to find Logan, a dopey smile on his face and, weirdly, sunglasses.

He had been drinking just as much as the rest of you had, even downing about half a bottle of vodka in under twenty minutes. Better than you would’ve done considering you thought vodka tasted like shit. Good for shots though.

You reach up and fix the glasses that had gone sideways on his face. His hand follows yours, still clutching a drink as he follows your lead in fixing the random glasses.

“Why’d you have glasses on?” You have to yell slightly as you say it, prompting Danny to glance over from where he’d been watching Lando convince the current DJ to let him have a go. You’d have to give it to him, the man’s pretty convincing when he’s drunk.

“Someone gave them to me, not sure when, don’t really care. They’re sick though, right?” Logan leans back slightly to give you both a full look at him and you laugh as he sways a bit. His blond hair is ruffled and he’s acquired someone’s paddock pass throughout the night, along with the glasses and he’s looking like he came straight from the race itself.

“Yeah! You look great, mate!” Danny’s laughing behind you and Logan grins while he leans back into the little huddle you’ve created, patting Danny on the back as he does.

“Where are we heading then, gang?” Logan slurs, downing the rest of his drink and slamming it down on a nearby table and then turning his entire form toward the two of you.

You walk forward a bit, dragging the two drivers with you, both of their arms falling off your shoulders, “I was gonna go back to my room but I can't find max.”

You had already been dealing with Max’s absence since, well, yesterday at that point and it definitely contributed to about 5 of the shots you had taken. By now it was about 1 am, you had been in the club for hours, you were hungry and drunk and just really wanted to go to bed. But you couldn't do that because you couldn't find max and something in your drunken mind said you had to find him before you could go to bed. Something about not going to bed angry after a fight.

A fight that, truly, you didn't really have a part in. It wasn't your fault that Max had lost. I mean, it technically was but you shouldn't have been expected to let him win. Red Bull had practically been asking you to lose to him all season and you win once and suddenly Max is yelling about how inconsiderate you are.

“Come on,” Danny starts to walk toward the exit, leading you and Logan behind him as he does. The three of you stagger through the crowd, many people stopping you go congratulate you and chat as you do. By the time you've reached the strip, you've completely forgotten about Max and instead, you're only thinking about the hunger in your stomach.

“Im starving,” you mumble as you lay your head on Logan who smiles down at you, once again wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You pay no mind to the cameras flashing as the three of you walk out or the stares that come your way. You’re more concerned about where the nearest restaurant is.

Logan moves away from you to dig through his pocket and you take the opportunity to adjust your dress, the fabric suddenly too tight on your heated body. You also wish you could take off the shoes that were causing your feet to ache. Danny takes a swig from the bottle that he, surprisingly, had been allowed to take from the club. Hair sticks to your foreheads and clothes sit rumbled and wrong. The spitting image of three elite athletes.

Logan moves back toward you to hand you the phone he had just pulled from his pocket. You had honestly forgotten you had given it to him to hold considering your dress didn’t have pockets.

“Thank you,” you nod gratefully, unlocking it to an influx of messages from friends and family congratulating you on your win or sending pictures from the club.

You clutch the device tightly as you cross your arms in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold Vegas air.

When a particularly cold chill runs through your body, you’re suddenly moving down the sidewalk, heels clicking as you try not to sway. The boys behind you follow in suit, seemingly trusting the, for the purposes of this race, Vegas native.

“Where we going, then?” Logan asks, a yawn escaping him as he readjusts the sunglasses perched on his nose.

“There’s a shake shack at New York New York,” you follow suit in yawning, pointing slightly ahead at the Empire State shaped hotel in front of you.

Daniel hums, “I want a burger.”

You laugh slightly, leading both of them toward the restaurant.

You three get there pretty quickly, ordering random greasy food that your trainers would probably disapprove of. When you sit down, you pull out your phone and send a quick series of text to Max to ask where he was. He hadn’t been there the whole night and you had finally started to miss him. He reads the messages but doesn’t reply, leaving you with a sick feeling in your stomach.

You bite into a fry to try and cover the nausea, opening your text chain with Charles and texting him instead. He actually replies this time and soon enough, Charles is on his way to you three from wherever he had gone to sober up earlier in the night.

“Charles is on his way,” you say through another yawn, eating a fry.

Daniel scarfs down a few bites of his burger, swallowing a full gulps of his drink right after, “For what?”

“Gonna help me find Max probably. We’re all too drunk to do anything by ourselves anyway.”

“Not too drunk to order food by ourselves,” Logan says, probably louder than he needs to, leaning back in his chair, glasses still on and a drink in his mouth, “Let’s fucking goooooooo.”

He follows Daniel’s lead and starts to munch on his food quickly, food you’d paid for by the way, when you turned out to be the only one who could get their Apple Pay to work.

You take a couple more bites of your food while the boys scavenge their food as if they hadn’t eaten in years.

“Hey guys!” You look up to see a particularly sober Charles Leclerc strolling through the shake shack door. You perk up when you see him, a small smiling making it through the exhaustion you were feeling.

“Hey Cha,” you say, standing up to give him a small hug, staggering a bit on your heels as you do. He leans back as you release him and steadies you, holding something up to you as he does.

Your eyes widen as he holds up a pair of converse in your eyesight and you gasp happily, quickly sitting back down in your chair and starting to fumble with the clasps on your heels.

Your fingers shake with exhaustion and alcohol and the clasp escapes your hands more than a couple times.

“Here, let me do it,” Charles offers as he sets the shoes down on the ground next to you before kneeling in front of your chair and grasping your ankle lightly.

You don’t look across the table to see Daniel and Logan making kissy faces at each other as they both stuff their faces with greasy food and soda. But you can hear their mocking kiss noises and you roll your eyes as you finally look their way, glaring as you do. They both shut up and go back to the phones in their hands.

Charles makes quick work of the clasps on both shoes, sliding the heels off your feet and untying the converse before handing them to you. You slide the shoes on and stand up, wrapping up your excess shake shack as you do.

Logan makes a noise of protest as you move to throw the food away and you sigh before sliding it across the table back to him. He makes quick work of the food, with help from Daniel reaching over his shoulder to grab food in between Logan’s bites.

You and Charles wait quietly for the two of them to finish. You eventually open your mouth to ask him a question but he seems to beat you there.

“Do you know where Max is?” He says quietly, eyes staring kindly at your tired state.

“No, he hasn’t answered my texts,” you mumble sadly, head falling to rest against your hand on the table. Charles moves slightly closer to let you rest your head on his shoulder and your eyes start to flutter closed. You were just nodding off when a loud band comes from across you and your eyes open to see Logan slamming his empty drink on the table just before Daniel does as well.

They both move from the table quickly and you and Charles rush to follow them as they bound out of the restaurant in their drunken stupor.

“Let’s go find max!” Daniel yells out swinging an arm around the blond man’s shoulders.

“To finding max!” Logan responds swinging his own arm around Daniel.

You and Charles share a look at the two of them. You had been just as drunk as them but you seemed to be sobering up quicker than both of them.

You glance down to see your heels clutched in Charles hand and pull out your phone to take a picture while he’s busy looking over your shoulder at the two drunk formula one driver some yards away.

“Come back here, losers!” Charles called out to the two of them and they both turn back to you and stumble over, seemingly dancing to music that wasn’t playing.

“We’re going to Omnia,” Charles says to the three of you and that’s all the boys need to turn around and wander toward a building they don’t know the location of.

You roll your eyes at them but follow quickly after, trying to make sure they don't wander too far away. Charles is quick to walk beside you.

The walk isn't too far, your drunkenness slowly decreasing throughout the stroll. Luckily for you and Charles, by the time you all get to the club, Daniel and Logan have sobered enough to at least walk in a straight line.

Omnia is nestled inside of Caesars Palace so it wasn't hard to find but Daniel and Logan do both try and walk past the hotel. You and Charles have to call them back and drag them into the lobby of the hotel.

The four of you wander over to the club, glancing around but when your efforts seem fruitless, you decide to wander around the area instead of just looking at the club.

The four of you wander around aimlessly, looking for any signs of your boyfriend. You glance up to see Charles with his eyes set forward, still clutching your heels in his hands. Logan and Danny fall in line next to the two of you, seemingly sobered enough to be helpful now.

Eventually you round a corner and come face to face with a surprisingly empty area, not a soul in sight. The silence almost echoes off the vaulted ceiling, making the sound of your four sets of shoes seem almost loud in comparison.

You don’t see anything in the room and go to turn around when Logan catches your elbow, “Is that him?”

You turn back around to follow Logan’s point, eyes locking on a brunette man. Of course, Logan has just been extremely inebriated so his judgement probably wasn’t the best but you decide to listen to him anyway.

You move to take a step toward the man when he stumbles backward, letting you see that it is, in fact, your boyfriend. But what causes your eyebrows to furrow is the familiar girl hanging off of him, lips practically attacking his own.

You can’t move. Your eyes are locked on the couple and your feet are solidly rooted to the marble floor. You think you might be crying, you wouldn’t be able to tell. The only thing that pulls you out of it is the feeling of a pair of heels being shoved into your arms. You glance up just in time to see Charles reeling his fist back.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget the sound of a nose breaking under a fist. Of course, it’s quiet so that probably helped a lot.

They’re screaming at each other and your brain, once again, tunes it out. You stare blankly ahead, trying to make sense of whatever the fuck you just saw. You’re pretty sure Charles’ girlfriend flees. Probably for the best. Logan swings a tanned hand in front of your eyes and suddenly the volume in the room is back once again, the screaming slowly filtering into your head.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Charles yells, blood dripping down his arm as he shoves Max in the middle of his chest.

“What’s my problem!? What’s your problem!? You’re already fucking my girlfriend, I was just evening the score,” Max spits, blood splattering against Charles’ white shirt as he shoves the man’s wrist away.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t do shit, man!”

“You proved it by showing up with her,” Logan inches forward as Max’s eyes land on you for the first time that night, seemingly ready to defend your honor. Or whatever.

“Taking her to help her find her boyfriend who turned out to be cheating on her with my girlfriend. Yeah seems really romantic mate,” Charles rolls his eyes. You can tell from his stance he’s ready to throw another punch in a heartbeat.

“Fuck you, Charles.”

“Fuck you, Max.”

There it is, the second punch flies and the two start to brawl. Rich idiot brawling, of course, no real form or anything. You reckon Max could throw a pretty good punch if he was in a better state. In the moment you’re just glad he isn’t. For Charles’ sake.

You suddenly realize that the area might not have been as secluded as you had thought. When you glance up you’re met by the literal strip, bright lights streaming in from the outside. Even at the ripe hour of 3 am. People start to gather at the commotion. Usually you’d care a lot about this kind of stuff but your brain is unfortunately too preoccupied to care.

One of these people that takes it upon themselves to insert themselves in the fight is none other than Checo Perez. The man on the grid who you could stand the least. Or at least he used to have that title, that might belong to Max now.

Upon the sound of more yelling, you tune him out. Daniel’s the one who moves in his path, causing the man to turn the argument onto Daniel. 5 foot 10 Daniel who’s been itching to throw a punch since this fight started. Daniel who was, until quite recently, black out drunk. Daniel who you knew, deep down, didn’t want to punch Max so this was a perfect solution.

You don’t end up remembering how it happens, your brain fogged with alcohol and emotions but one second, Checo and Danny are arguing and the next second, Logan’s landed a punch.

Honestly, he has a killer right hook. Especially for a drunk man. This spurs another fight and you can’t do anything but stand still in the middle of it all, tear stains running down your cheeks and high-heels clutched tightly in your arms.

It feels like an eternity later, but what probably only 5 minutes, when a figure comes up behind you and wraps an arms around your shoulders. You glance up to see a wild Oscar, pulling you away from the scene. He drops your shoulder to move back and pull Logan out of the fight, now with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles. You’re not sure how much fighting he did and how much of it was just him hitting random surfaces. Again, drunk.

You turn toward Charles and see a now unoccupied Checo walking with an arm around Max’s shoulder and a now quite sober Lando pulling Charles the other way. Danny’s made his own way out of the area, quickly pulling you away with him. You don’t argue as he does, grateful for the escape. Sound comes back to you as you re-enter the casino floor, slot machines and black-jack spread out around you.

You realize how crazy you all probably look, all six of you covered in blood in some way. Whether it be your own or a friends. You all stagger out of the hotel quickly and at some point, you lose Charles and now it’s just you, Daniel and Logan, just like how you had started the night.

Once the air hits your face you realize the reality of everything that’s just happened. Your three year relationship was now over. Your teammate and boyfriend just cheated on you. This had to be some sort of HR violation.

For the first time since you entered the quiet area, you feel yourself cry. Tears run down your cheeks as sobs rack your body. Logan is quick to get you somewhere to sit down and he lays an arm around your shoulder comfortingly, not even thinking about the fact he’s now smearing even more blood on your clothes. You get distracted form your crying when you glance up and see the blood streaming from his nose. If you could help it, you’d get his name the farthest away from this. He didn’t need this right now.

For a moment you’re too worried about Logan’s future to cry but then you glance back down at the blood on your own hands and the waterworks start again. You, of course, hadn’t punched anyone but the blood was a reminder that somebody had because of you.

You eventually get the sobs to go away, standing up with a slight wobble, leaning on Daniel as he catches you.

You have no idea where the rest of your friend had gone or even where you were gonna sleep tonight. So you text the one person you had complete faith in during this situation.

“Can I stay with you?”

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#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #scheduled #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x fem!driver #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader

[thegnomelord]

I wonder what’s the aftermath of the gaz baby trapping fic?? 🤔🤭

Okay this got me into another hyperfixation so here's a super quick thing. NSFW, MDNI FTM Gaz/ cis male reader

One line.

Gaz's fingers shake as he stares at the pregnancy test in his white knuckled grip. Acrid disappointment burns at the back of his throat, sharp tears prickling the corners of his eyes as he lets out of a long breath. He shakes his head and tosses the damned test into the bin, trying not to think of it as he washes his hands.

He tries to make sure he doesn't look like it bothers him, but you're perceptive, "What's wrong?" falling from your lips the moment you see him, and shit, if that doesn't warm his heart.

"Nothing love." He eases your worries as he gets into bed in record time, huddling up next to you and feeling your arms wrap around him. "Just a bit under the weather. Rookie duty." You make a sound of understanding and pull him closer, laying gentle kisses on his lips and cheeks and anywhere you can reach until he's giggling against your lips.

"Good night." You mutter once you're satisfied and think you've lifted his mood. He stays awake after you've fallen asleep, simply staring at your slumbering face, your warmth seeping into his marrow.

He'd been so sure it would take, he'd ridden you until you were shooting blanks. But at the back of his mind he had thought this could happen, understand he had been sloppy, his chances lessened by you being injured and him having freshly come off the infertility drugs.

So he takes his time to do it with precision this time: Carefully timing his cycles and using fertility drugs, eating the foods old wives tales claim will boost the chances of him getting pregnant.

So he's confident when he seduces you into sex again on the one evening both of you are free; not that it takes much — simply meeting your gaze across the meeting room and licking his lips has your attention fully on him, a small nod of his head all it taking to have you follow after him.

His fingers claw into your back from how tightly he clutches you, heels digging into your flanks and hips gyrating to meet your thrusts as you pound into him. He's so loud you're sure you'll get complaints come morning, but right now you couldn't care less except to hear more of his moans and whimpers and cries as you fuck another load into him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes- oh love more!" He tries, sweet cunt clenching sinfully tight around you, drops of your cum leaking past your cock as his hole flutters around you. The position you have him in, legs over your shoulders and bent nearly in half, has your cock going to deep he swears you hit his diaphragm with every thrust, your heavy balls slapping against his ass.

He's happy he'd slipped you that aphrodisiac as you just continue to fuck him all night long, pumping his hole full of cum again and again until by the end of it he looks pregnant, both of you exhausted as hell and unable to do much other than fall asleep in a tangle of limbs.

You don't think nothing of it, just glad to be alive to be able to enjoy his love and affection. That is until you find him crying in the bathroom, and you hug him before you can think of anything else, just trying to comfort him and understand why he's sad, only for him to silently hand you a small white stick, burying his head into your neck to silence his sobs.

And you don't notice him smirking against your throat as you stare at the two lines on the pregnancy test.

Taglist: @dead-end-stuff

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #top male reader #trinkets from the hoard #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz smut #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare

[lure-of-writing]

His little sister

Summary: Azriel point of view of the things you do as Rhysands little sister (This should be read only after reading all in a days work and knock before you enter otherwise it probably won't make any sense as you need the know what happened in the other two for this to make sense )

word count: 2.5 k

Note: Hello! For a while I was stumped on how to continue the little sister series so boom! I present to you Azriel's pov. I would love to hear what you guys think about having things from this perspective also! please don't be shy and let me know!

The playful touches and not so subtle glances across the room paired with the seductive bit of your lip as it lifts into a forbidden smile is not lost upon the spymaster of the night court. In fact everything you did never went unnoticed by him. As Rhysands little sister he was more or less forbidden from having any relationship with you that was purely platonic or sibling-like. Much to the high lord's irritation, once you learned of the rules set in place for the general and the shadow singer, you had made it your own personal mission to see just how much you could get away with. Just how far could you bend the rules before your older brother snapped? 

Azriel was well aware of the game you played in hopes of causing your brother a small amount of distress. Unfortunately for him, he respected his high lord and his wishes to much to counter your advances with some of his own but that doesn’t mean he can’t help you accomplish your lifes works of making your brother rub his temples with a long sigh and a shot of whiskey or which ever bottle of alcohol appeared before him first. 

It had been just a few short weeks after your fifteenth birthday when you had learned about the guidelines Rhys had set for the two other males in your family. Being told what to do never sat well with you, neither did being told who you can and can’t do things with. At first your reaction was to find your brother and argue with him until he couldn’t think straight but when you were on the way to his office you bumped into your favorite member of the bat boys.  Azriel was leaning  against the wall of Rhysands office waiting for his meeting with Helion when you were stuck with a brilliant idea. “Az?” his hazel eyes shifted from the dark oak doors to where you stood in the middle of the hall. “Yes?”  as soon as the word had left his mouth he knew you were up to something. It was the way your eyes lit up in excitement and you shuffled over to him with hurried steps. Huddled close to his body you beaconed him to lean down so you could whisper in his ears. Wordlessly he follows your commands. “Would you like to help me make Rhys question why he was blessed with being my brother?” 

The sly smile and trouble that brewed in your eyes was enough to get him to say yes. Not like he could ever say no to you in the first place but that wasn’t important. From that moment on he would allow you to flirt with him and crawl into his lap with no rejection. This drove Rhysand up a wall. He said that they could not try to flirt with you but you never said anything about it being the other way around and you had taken full advantage of that each and every single time the opportunity presented itself. 

Family dinners amongst the inner circle were never an uncommon thing but since everything that transpired over the last fifty something years had the family dinners becoming a more common tradition. After dinner talks and catching up had been moved to the living room. Silently Azriel sat by himself, listening to his family talk. Perfectly content with listening rather than speaking. While Cassian went on this third rant about why he was certain that he could fight Bryaxis, if and big if here, they weren’t so scary looking, when you had gotten up from where you were sat next to Mor on the floor. He watched as you left the room and not even a second later his shadows informed him that you were getting another wine. 

His attention shifted from his brother onto you when you had reentered the room with a glass full of wine and strutted over to him and made yourself comfortable in his lap. Az would never admit it but the feeling of your arm draped over his shoulder and playing with his hair was one of his favorite feelings in the world. As your body leaned into his, the temperate difference between the two of you became very apparent to the shadowsinger. Without thinking he placed his much warmer hand on your freezing and goosebump covered leg to help warm you back up. The slit in your dress had done nothing to help keep you warm. 

Without saying anything he watched as his brother marched his way over to where you had chosen to sit, also known as Azriels lap. He watched as Rhys reached his hand out in hopes of pulling you off of closest friend and he watched as Rhysands face morphed into one of confusion to anger as Azriels wings furled around you to keep your brother from grabbing you from him. If there was one thing that the shadowsinger knew with one hundred percent certainty, it was that you could handle yourself. The context didn’t matter, you could always handle yourself. So while you and your brother went back and front he mindlessly began to rub comforting circles where his hand had found purchase on your leg. And once Rhysand had made his way back to his mate, he had leaned down and pressed his lips against your hairline. “You are a menace” giggling you smile up at him before shrugging and taking a sip of your forgotten wine. 

Visiting the court of nightmares was never something that brought Azriel much joy. More often than not he was watching for any threats against his high lord's life, now he had to worry about his high lady also. It wasn’t as if Azriel wasn’t capable of handling such a task but when you had revealed that you would also be in attendance, it brought Azriel another level of stress. He knew that you could handle the court politics and the volleyball of words sent back and forth with hidden messages. Hell you had even been trained by all three males and Morrgian. You were more than capable of looking out for yourself but there has always been a part of Azriel that couldn’t rest when he knew you could be in danger at any moment. 

Now the notoriously quiet male, while known for not saying much, always had something to say when it came to you. There was no comment too small that you made that didn’t get an answer from Az in return.  As you finally made your way down the staircase to your awaiting family Azriel had just about a thousand thoughts and compliments he could give you at any moment. While your brother had a meltdown in the background all Azriel could focus on was you and as you made your way down the last few steps he reached his hand out helping you the rest of the way down. Shamelessly he looked you up and down not caring that your brother just might beat his ass for looking at you in such an outfit. Once his eyes reached your, you sent him a wink and beaming smile. Az could tell that you had wanted to ask him what he thought of your clothing choices but decided that dealing with your brother would be the best idea  before he dragged you back up the stairs himself and forced you to change. 

While at the place of nightmares the shadows that sung to Azriel hung close to his body, only leaving to secretly watch over you and make sure you were ok. For most of the night all was well, at least as well as things can get in the court of nightmares. That was until his shadow came back to inform their master of the predicament that had presented itself to you. He watched from afar as you pushed your way out of the crowd and towards himself. Pushing off of the pillar he was once perched against he made his way towards you. Az’s blood began to boil when he watched the random fae male wrap his arms around your waist and pulled your body into his. In two long strides he was in front of the strange male and yourself, demanding he release his grip on you or he would do it for him. There wasn’t a part of Azriel that enjoyed the violence he brings upon those he was tasked with gathering information from but holding truth teller to the male's neck did in fact bring him joy. 

Upon your release he guided you back to where he was previously standing to make sure you were ok and that the random male didn’t inflict any harm to you. After his thorough evaluation of your body met his standards he returned his gaze to meet your and suddenly your cold hand was pressed against his warm cheek and the burn of the two temperatures had never felt so nice before. Once again your hand had found its resting place in his hair and your lips on his and Azriel swore hes never felt something as soft as your lips on his.  As soon as your lips had met his, Az knew he was in for a whole world of pain when Rhysand got his hands on him but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Az recently pulled away when he felt the anger of his high lord coming at him with the purpose of making him bow to the power radiating off of Rhysand. “We should probably get out of here before he kills you.” looking down he saw the mischief twinkling in your eyes and he positive nobody can pull off that look quite like you can. The wink you sent over your shoulder as you grab his hand pulls him out of the trance you had put him in. Willingly Azriel followed your lead out of the ball room while you bumped into his arm periodically. “Honestly he just might kill us both.” he felt you mumble into his shoulder as you hid your face and laughter in his body. Chuckling he couldn’t help but agree before winnowing you back to the house of wind. 

After Rhyand had actually considered beating the shadowsinger to a pulp your usual antics had dwindled in frequency which saddened Azriel more than he was willing to admit. During training you kept clear of him in case your brother didn’t approve of you even looking in his general direction and it had been almost two weeks since he had last talked to you for more then five minutes and honestly it was starting to drive him crazy. After a family dinner consisting of you, Nesta, Cassiand and himself he finally approached you. “You're going to the Summer court tomorrow right?” As the resident know-it-all he already knew your answer but he waited nonetheless “Yes?” Azriel watches as you place your book in your lap to give him your full attention and he swears he could bask in it forever. “I’m not doing anything for the next week, would you like me to go with you?”  The beaming smile you sent him was confirmation enough. 

That's how he found himself in your room the next morning helping you get ready. You had asked his opinion on basically every piece of your outfit and Azriel had never been so happy to assist someone put together their clothes for the day. After you had pulled all the needed pieces of clothing from your closest you held up the corset you picked for him to see. “I’ll need your help putting this on.” And that's how once again Azriel feared Rhys would consider pummeling him once more. 

Not once during Rhysands withering glare did Azriel stop pulling the strings of your corset until they were tight enough and only then did he gently pull the strings into a bow before removing his hands from your body. After finishing his assigned task Az thought it was best to leave the siblings to deal with each other and he would wait for you on the rooftop to begin your journey to the summer court. Only after he could assume was a long lecture from your older brother on being safe did the two of you join him on the roof. “I swear if a single hair on her head is out of place I will kill you.”  As much as Azriel wanted to laugh at the worn out sound of his friend he simply nodded his head before acknowledging what he said. 

The week in the summer court with you felt more like two days. Any time with you never felt like enough. On the way back Rhysand had talked to him and you that he wanted a debrief before you did anything upon your return. Gently he set you back on the ground once he had landed in front of the river house and he already missed the feeling of your body on his. He really wished and in that moment that he never agreed to those rules Rhysand had set for him and Cassian all those hundred of years ago. 

The silence that engulfed the room would make anyone who didn’t know the two males squirm from how uncomfortable it was, but these two males had dealt with much more stressful problems and had sat in more silence than the average people did. Azriel knew that lately your antic had been pushing the line but he had never stopped you nor had he ever thought too. Mainly because he didn’t want you too but also in fear that if he asked you to stop you would never come to him again. “Truly Rhys there is nothing going on between me and your sister. You and I both know she only does this to get under your skin and she does that very well. As long as it bothers you then she will keep doing it. You know this.” 

After a long and much needed talk Azriel made his way to the stand outside of the river house collecting a much needed breath of fresh air while he came to terms with his conversation with his oldest friend. A few moments pass before you come waltzing out of the house as if you had accomplished some great mission. “Maybe next time he’ll knock” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about and couldn’t help but laugh at what you said. He didn’t need to ask you what you did as the one shadow that always kept you company told him all about what you had just done to your brother and his poor unsuspecting mate. Without another word Azriel scooped you into his arm while pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. Gods he wished this wouldn’t be the last time he felt your skin against his lips.

Rhysand had asked him to put a stop to your behavior towards him. Not that you made the shadowsinger uncomfortable, gods no, you could never do that. It was just you were your brother's pride and joy and he refused to let the males he considered his brothers to be the reason your heart broke. Rhysand would never be able to forgive or look at Azriel the same and he knew that. Azriel just wished the golden string tying the two of you together didn’t have to be hidden from everyone including you.

Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @gorlillaglue25 @willowpains

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #rhysand x sister!reader

[petertingle-yipyip]

DONT BE A FOOL - MATT MURDOCK

Pairing: matt x wife!reader

Word Count: 2, 156

Summary: After a very tense argument about a misused name, your apologetic husband ends up getting looped in by your students.

//follow-up to three empty words but can probably be read on its own//

The next morning, you refused to dilly dally your morning routine. Your shower was quick, your hair and makeup remained simple. Even your outfit was more or less the first thing you grabbed from your closet. You gathered all of your papers - which you hadn’t gotten around to grading the night before - and your laptop before Matt’s alarm had even gone off.

You skipped making breakfast, deciding to stop at a coffee shop on the way to work instead, and hustled out the door. You ignored the still sleeping figure of Elektra on your couch even though your brain wanted to soak her with cold water and kick her out. You did slam the door on your way out but that was just to satisfy your own anger.

You walked into your classroom and let out a loud sigh as you dropped into your deskchair. You were thankful to be out of the house, in your own space for the time being. As you began grading the papers and piling them according to the hours, your mind wandered back to the night before. You wondered if Elektra would be out of your apartment when you got back. You wondered if Matt would tell Foggy and Karen that you two got into a fight last night. You then found yourself wondering if Matt was actually going to go to work that morning.

You realized you were staring blankly at the student’s worksheet in front of you so you shook the thoughts and focused on the daunting stacks before you.

Most of the hours were business as usual. Your normal rowdy students were a bit extra, but that might’ve been due to your already grated nerves more than their own behaviors. It wasn’t until the hour before lunch that you found some of your students more huddled and secretive than usual.

“What are you doing in the corner?” You called, peaking over your computer at the small group. “There’s, what, five minutes till the bell?”

“Mrs. Murdock, what’s your husband’s name?” One of the girls, Liv, asked with an innocent expression. The same one she gave you when she explained her lacking assignments.

“Matthew.” You titled down your screen to see them better. “Why?”

“What does he do again?”

“Lawyer. Why?”

“Is he handsome?” Another girl, Nicole, asked with wiggling eyebrows.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes at your middle schoolers.

“Yes, very.” You smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t have married him if he wasn’t.”

“And if he’s a lawyer, he’s gotta be smart, right?”

“Again, very. He went to Columbia.”

“So like… Is he why you’re so sad today?” Blake, the only boy in the group, chimed in with a nonchalant shrug.

“Guys.” You frowned slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I’m not sad. Me and Mr. Murdock are fine. We’re happily married. And you should be worried about your own relationship drama, not mine.”

“So you admit there’s drama?” Nicole countered quickly.

“Between Blake and Emmy? Yes.” You nodded and Emmy’s jaw dropped while her friends poked her teasingly. “Between me and Mr. Murdock, no.”

“Mhmm.. So why is the photo face down?”

“What?”

“The photo by your computer.” She came across the room and lifted the frame near your laptop that was in fact, face down. “You told us on the first day that this was one your favorite photos and you have it on it’s face… There’s drama, Mrs. Murdock.”

“You’re very observant, Nicole. Thank you.” You said flatly as you took the frame from her hands and set it in it’s rightful position. “I must’ve knocked it over when I was trying to find you and Liv’s missing portfolio project.” “You can’t deflect, Mrs. M.” Liv added from across the room. “It’s all over your face.”

“Y’know what.” You announced, standing from your desk. “The bell rings in less than two minutes. You guys can all go to lunch early.”

A chorus of questions arose while you heard the door being pushed open.

“They can’t write you all up.” You shrugged and dropped back in your chair while the meddling group made their way into the hall.

The girls continued to whisper to themselves and glanced back at you, to which you shooed them away. When you were finally alone in your classroom, you let out a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand over your eyes.

Usually, you adored having open communication with your students because that meant they trusted you. But at the same time, that meant they felt entitled to know your life story whether you like it or not. The bell echoed in your ears so you spun your chair to the small fridge under your desk that held your lunch.

You clicked play on a playlist from your laptop and began eating your lunch, typing away to enter in grades. You knew you should just do nothing, scroll mindlessly on your social medias instead or maybe even call Foggy to ensure Matt made it to work, but the busy work for your eyes, head, and hands felt better. Plus, you weren’t exactly sure what you would’ve said that could’ve gotten your question answered without being a dead giveaway. So you kept working instead.

“MRS. MURDOCK!” Liv nearly yelled as she burst through your door, maybe halfway through the lunch hour. “OHMYGODYOULLNEVERBELIEVE-”

“Liv!” You said in shock, nearly dropping your water bottle. “What is going on? Is everything okay?”

“Look at this!” She hurried across and showed you her phone screen. Oddly enough, it was a photo of the back of a man exiting a taxi. What stood out to you was the white cane in his hand.

“It’s a guy getting out a cab.” You tried to reason, gently pushing her phone away. “That’s what you ran in here to tell me?”

“But he’s blind!”

“So it seems.”

“Don’t you know what this means?” She insisted with a small stomp.

You simply shrugged and raised your brows.

“It’s Mr. Murdock! He came to apologize!”

“Liv, I appreciate your concern for my marriage but we’re fine, okay? It’s not like he and I are heading towards a divorce. We’re just in a bit of an argument. It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? Because I’ve never seen you so…” She gestured vaguely to you.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now go back to your lunch, please. I have to finish these.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Mrs. M, just-”

“Liv, boundaries, please.”

“Just listen!”

“No.” You said firmly. “Go back to your lunch.”

She huffed slightly but retreated to the door. As she was heading out, she nearly ran into one of the monitors.

“Sorry to intrude, Y/N.” The monitor said as she popped her head in. “I have a visitor for you.”

“Another one of my kids being a problem?” You sighed and wheeled yourself a bit further from your desk. “Send ‘em in. They can sit in the corner till next class.”

“Actually, I think you’ll be glad to see this one.” She smiled knowingly and reached for something outside the doorframe.

Before you could voice another question, she ushered Matt through the door. He said his usual thanks for being guided and the monitor gave you an approving nod and thumbs up. She mouthed a very not subtle ‘He’s very handsome’. You smiled awkwardly in agreement but once the door closed, you rolled your eyes and went back to your gradebook.

“Could’ve called.” You said simply.

“I didn’t think you would answer.” Matt replied honestly.

“Probably wouldn’t have… Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I couldn’t focus.”

You heard the clicks of him folding his cane as he wandered around your classroom. You peaked up to watch him manueaver the desks with such ease that for a split second, you forgot he was blind. You watched him run his fingers along the bulletin board you had on one wall, leading into the standards and other required signage you had up.

“Did she leave?” You asked and returned to your prior task. You knew if you watched him for too long, he’d know and he’d show you that stupid lopsided smirk that he did.

“She was still pretty weak when I left.” He said and there was a slight sadness in his voice. Though if someone asked if it was for Elektra or your argument, you wouldn’t have been able to say. “But I did ask Stick to find somewhere else to take her to recover if she can’t leave on her own by the time someone gets home.”

“Chivalrous.” You made a face behind your computer screen. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that.”

He sighed slightly and you mumbled a short complaint to yourself before scooting away from your desk and spinning in your chair to face him, just as he appeared at your side. You folded your hands over your stomach and leaned back in your chair, giving an exaggerated sigh and nod for him to talk.

“Y/N, last night, I said something I shouldn’t have.” He began carefully, as if he was following a carefully rehearsed speech. For all you knew, he had rehearsed it with Foggy that morning before he showed up. “I let Stick push me and I just said the first thing that came to mind.”

“But she shouldn’t be the first thing, right?” You said softly with a small shrug. “Stick shouldn’t be able to push you into saying that, whether you meant it or not.”

“You’re right.” He admitted and your brows went up slightly. “I shouldn’t have said that. You are the only woman that I want to be with. I married you, without any hesitation. I never had second thoughts or second thoughts or anything. You, Y/N Murdock, have my heart.”

You nodded slowly but said nothing as you stood. You crossed your arms and looked up at him, him offering a hopeful expression in return. You broke into a small smile and nudged him with your shoulder before moving past him. He followed you almost instantly and you took him to the wall on the other side of your desk near the window.

“The kids started calling this the Sweetheart’s Spotlight.” You said quietly with a small smile. “They keep a polaroid camera in one of the cubbies and every Friday, they rearrange the couples in order of their favorites… They made me put a photo of us on here, too.”

“Where do we rank?” He smiled slightly.

“We’ve been number one since it started.” You laughed. “They tell me that you’re the best by default since I’m their favorite teacher.”

“Lucky me.”

“You know I’m still upset, right?” You said carefully when the air was too light between you two.

“I know.” He nodded. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“But I also don’t want to hold onto this fight. So here’s an idea. Elektra’s out of the apartment today. You two finish whatever crusade you’re on. You make sure you don’t get yourself killed. She leaves New York and it’s all put to bed.”

“Consider it done.” He nodded. “And I know better than to get myself killed. I’ve got it too good to die.”

“Yeah because then I’m a widow and there’s not much life insurance to cash in on.” You joked as the lunch bell rang.

“I should get going.” He nodded before gently taking your hand. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too.” You said softly as your students started filing in.

“OHMYGOD.” One of your students yelled and you closed your eyes tightly, quietly groaning in embarrassment. “IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?”

“Yes, Luna.” You said, feeling the blush across your cheeks. “This is Mr. Murdock and he’s leaving.”

You pulled Matt towards the door as he laughed. Your kids yelled questions that you tried to ignore until Matt stopped, pulling you to stop with him.

“It’s career week!” One of the boys yelled. More so a demand.

“I’m aware, Jack.” You nodded. “What does that have to do with this?”

“He’s not here to talk to us about lawyers?” The boy’s head cocked as he asked his question.

“That’s exactly why I’m here.” Matt grinned and you groaned again. “Let’s give Mrs. Murdock a break, right?”

“You’re so dead.” You threatened quietly with a laugh before heading back to your chair. 

“Okay, kids.” You announced. “He’s blind and can’t write. I’m not getting up. Take your own notes and keep your questions relevant to his career, okay?”

“Yes, Mrs. Murdock.” They all answered.

“All yours, Mr. Murdock.” You gestured before returning to grading and the personal questions started flying.

“How did you guys meet?!”

“What’s her favorite color?!”

“Did you see the wall?!” “He can’t see!”

“Are they always this rowdy?” He asked you with a slight laugh.

“You’re new and exciting.” You shrugged. “Take it as a compliment.”

#matt fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fic #marvel matt murdock #matt murdock mcu #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x yn #matt murdock x wife #husband matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil angst #daredevil imagine #mcu daredevil #netflix daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fluff #marvel daredevil

[thatfandomslut]

I'll Always Protect You

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warning: Reader pushing Regina out of the way of the bus, established relationship between Regina/Reader, injuries, near death experience.

Request:

Valentine's / Followers Celebration; Regina George w/ quote 22 and piece of chocolate 3. Or: "You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die." w/ injury

Valentine's / Followers Celebration Requests are closed.

Regina stared in shock at where (Y/n) had once been standing as she pushed Regina. A bus was now in her place and Regina stared, shaking as she turned to see (Y/n) lying on the ground unconscious. She was thankful for the bus blocking her from the other students as she crumbled to the floor momentarily. Faculty had already rushed over to the girl sprawled on the ground, and Principal Duvall jumped into action, calling an ambulance on his phone as he kneeled by Regina, placing a hand on her shoulder. Once he confirmed they were on the way, he turned to the blonde.

"Are you okay? Are you injured, too?" He questioned in concern. Regina never realized until then that he was an incredibly caring person. Regina's eyes were still wide as she swallowed thickly. When she processed that he was still waiting for a response, he nodded slowly. "Good, come on, let's move away from this area. The ambulance might need to park here. Are you okay to walk? I know that you're probably in shock." When Regina shook her head, he gently helped her up and then moved her across the street where everyone else was. They were all staring at her for a moment, their gazes shifting to the worried faculty members huddling around (Y/n).

Regina didn't know what to do. Her girlfriend just pushed her out of the way of a bus and potentially saved her life. She risked her life for Regina's. Regina sat on the sidewalk, now letting Cady approach her. The strawberry blonde rested her hand on Regina's shoulder carefully and through all of the processing of what just happened, she leaned into Cady's touch. Cady gently squeezed her shoulder as an ambulance came. Janis was still on the other side of the bus, looking over in shock. There was so much going on that no one knew what to do or say. Still, they knew somehow this was going to be all over the school tomorrow.

Regina held back tears, wanting to know if (Y/n) would be okay. She wished that she wasn't frozen in her place. She felt guilty because it was from her not paying attention to her surroundings that (Y/n) even made the action. Everything that she had happened earlier seemed miniscule. Cady and Janis ruining her life, the Burn Book, the group therapy held by Ms. Norbury. Everything seemed so unimportant. The only thing on Regina's mind was the well-being of her girlfriend. She watched the paramedics haul her onto a stretcher and drive away urgently, and her face fell into her hands.

A couple of days later, Regina found it in her to visit (Y/n) at the hospital. Sucking in a breath, she knocked on a door. "Come in," (Y/n) croaked out, causing Regina to wince just at the sound of her voice. Walking into the room, she acknowledged all of the flowers around (Y/n). "Hey, Regina," the girl had a corrective neck collar on and looked tired. It was obvious that she was a bit loopy on medicine. Regina put a vase of roses down and sat by (Y/n)'s bedside. She didn't know how exactly to approach her. She had been waiting it out for the last two days since she couldn't visit yet anyway.

(Y/n) was still hooked into an IV, Regina noticed. Regina started to think about all of the things she had been wanting to say, but she had to sit with her thoughts for a long moment. She was grateful that (Y/n) was understanding as she sat next to her bedside. She knew (Y/n) almost lost her life for her, so what was she supposed to say to someone who would throw themselves in front of a bus for her? She wanted to yell at (Y/n) and call her stupid but remind her that she loved her. Instead, she settled with other words.

"You saved my life," Regina said, taking (Y/n)'s hand softly. She felt comforted by how warm it was. She was scared that if it was cold, the fantasy would crumble and (Y/n) would be gone. She swallowed down an unwanted sob as she tried to blink away tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. Even if (Y/n) was the only person she ever got vulnerable around in the past, she knew she had to be strong for her. "Despite everything that happened at school, you saved me. Why did you push me out of the way?"

(Y/n) smiled softly, using all of her strength to provide a gentle squeeze to Regina's hand. "Because, Regina, I love you. Even if I did die after the bus, I would fade away, but you're this ever-lasting, shining star. You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die. I'll always protect you. You deserve the entire world. And, if I had to do it again to save you again, I would." She said softly. Regina smiled back at her girlfriend before leaning in to kiss her gently, careful with her collar. (Y/n) kissed back happily, feeling like this moment made everything even more worth it.

Regina pulled away and her eyes searched (Y/n)'s for a long moment. "I love you, too. You're a star in my sky, too. I want you to know how important you are to me. I can't lose you, either." Regina said earnestly, the tears she attempted to hide finally spilling over her cheeks as she sniffled. She wasn't always the best with her words or her feelings. She often came out as crass or mean, but she couldn't lose (Y/n) just as much as the girl claimed she couldn't lose Regina. Regina had been scared out of her mind when the bus crashed into her, trying not to imagine what might happen if she didn't get any of those cute good-morning messages or late-night calls. (Y/n) was her star, too.

#regina george #regina george x reader #mean girls #mean girls x reader

[darealsaltysam]

I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING DUNE PART 2 AND HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT HOLY FUUUUCK I NEED TO. I NEED TO. I NEED TO TALK SO BAD HOLY SHIT

below the cut because oh boy do i have a lot to say and i dont want my poor followers to suffer when i post this

oh my god okay okay where do i even start

opening with irulan's narration to mirror her notes in the openings of the chapters of the book. oh yeah baby. i ate that right up

watching paul get close with the fremen,,,,, fucking hell that hurts. dune really is a tragedy at the end of the day huh. they go from reluctant allies to friends but the whole time you know the switch will happen any moment now and they will be devotees and he will be messiah and that gap between them will never be as small as it is out in the sand. huddled in those tents. sharing drinks and laughs. im not doing ok

this especially hurts with chani. their love is so genuine and pure and she wears blue for him (which by the way sticks out so much more with how muted the colors of the rest of the movie are... i could talk about this all day) but she can see what he is becoming and he's trying to avoid it for her so hard but there's no avoiding fate. LORD ABOVE!!!!

i loveeee jessica being the manipulator thats pulling all the strings, urging paul towards becoming messiah. rebecca ferguson is such a talented actress she really understands the character so well. also as a hashtag certified alia atreides enjoyer her scheming with her unborn fetus might be the most unhinged thing ever but thats also so fucking funny aka its as dune as it gets. dune is WEIRD and im glad theyre not shying away from that. thank u denis

arrakis looks so much more beautiful in this movie like theres defo been some changes with how its framed and presented it feels so much grander and idk just ??? what it makes me think is that we're not seeing arrakis, we're finally seeing dune. we're seeing the land as the fremen see it as paul becomes one of them. i might be looking too much into it but who cares. god i love this movie

but yes more on the fremen in the first section of the movie. i like how there's this cluster of non-believers almost?? its a nice breath of fresh air. its hard to believe every single person would be just devoted to the prophecy and it adds some depth.

i will say the one thing i didnt like is the way stilgar is characterized?? i dont think he was so blindly devoted to paul in the books, and definitely not alia and leto ii after him as the atreides line went on. he's always been a source of small doubt towards paul but i think they're moving that element of him onto chani, so i think i can let it slide. i'd like to see him question alia more in the future though.

the scene where paul was named muad'dib and usul??? god it was so cute which made it so heart wrenching. all the fremen coming together and welcoming him into their lives. as a brother. as a friend. only for him to turn around and make them all bow before him. ohhhhh i cant do this

OH BOY THE WORMS THE WORMS AND THE WORM RIDING AND THE AHHHHHHHHH OH LORD

jesus christ. what the fuck. how is this allowed on cinema screens how is something so amazing allowed

the tension. the effects. the sound design. the sand rushing past the wind the worm moving forward paul struggling to hold on the fremen all watching and then cheering him on HOLY FUCKKKK HOLY FUCK I WAS HOLDING MY BREATH

all the worm riding scenes were so intense and so well done like. when i first read that stuff in the books i didnt think anything could ever capture how i imagined it exactly and yet. AND YET. DENIS!!!!!!!!

once more dune hits the idea of scale SO well everything is HUGE and they MAKE YOU FEEL IT. that shows especially with geidi prime but ill talk about that in a bit. but yes this applies to the worms too lord above them WORMSSSS ARE HUGEEEE AND I LOVE THEMMMM

rebecca ferguson put her heart and soul into that water of life scene and we all need to thank her for it

the way jessica is so quick to switch up and go all in on the prophecy. it makes me think of leto's "im not asking his mother, im asking the bene gesserit" like. the bene gesserit really come first for jessica and she takes her opportunity to fulfill her duties. to be the reverend mother. to rub it all in the faces of the other bene gesserit. she is the mother of the messiah and by god will she make everyone well aware of that

okay. okay okay. i think i said my peace on the early fremen stuff. i think. okay fuck okay SHIT fuck SHIT

FEYD FUCKING RAUTHA LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

oh my god okay. okay ill admit it. i doubted austin butler. i saw the cast list and i was unsure(tm). i saw him in the trailers and my faith was restored. and holy fucking shit did he DELIVER

stellan skarsgård's baron harkonnen is already such a threatening figure it feels like it would be impossible to make someone even more terrifying and yet. AND YET

just the way he's introduced. killing servants with zero remorse. LICKING THAT KNIFE THE WAY HE DID??? OKAY WHORE. I SEE YOU. GO RIGHT AHEAD. MAKE IT SLUTTY IN HOUSE HARKONNEN. I RESPECT IT

when the arena doors open and that loud ass fucking music BOOMS. makes the room fucking SHAKE. thats a PRESENCE right there. THATS how you introduce your antagonist.

the music playing as he fights being as fucking deranged as he is. chaotic and weird and unsettling. just. oh my god feyd had such a presence from the moment he showed up and he did not lose it for a single second. you could feel him LOOMING over the movie the whole time just as he looms over the whole book from his very first scene. oh my goddddd oh my godd

GEIDI PRIME. THE ARENA. THAT MASSIVE HARKONNEN PALACE. oh my god. once more. that sense of scale. the harkonnens love to flaunt their wealth so ofc they have huge fuck off arenas and castles where everything and everyone feels so SMALL in comparison.

dont even get me started on the black and white. the way it accents those coal black teeth and mouths. the way it makes everything look so much more inhuman and clinical and PERFECT because harkonnen power is so absolute and ruthless.

and the way the baron sits so so high above watching the fighting. literally impossible to picture his elevation above his people above the rest of the universe. the way feyd looks to him for approval after every movement. even as his uncle is trying to kill him they exchange those little looks and feyd knows hes getting his chance to show off while the baron gives him his "gift" what a fucked up family what the hell

speaking of fucked up family! wow! they are SO fucked up! there is something seriously strange being hinted at with feyd and the baron! feyd making his own brother bow and kiss his boot! those constant threats of death against rabban as if theyre nothing! this family is capital f FUCKED up. they hurt each other as much as they hurt everyone around them. theyre made of violence and blood and they could never show each other kindness because they dont know such a thing

what can i say about the feyd/margot scenes that hasnt been said already. like wow just unpack the boy's trauma like that. use him and then throw him to the wolves. once again the bene gesserit make it so clear this is THEIR empire and THEIR bloodlines and THEIR messiah. too bad jessica doesnt see that collective "ours" and instead settles for "mine" when it comes to the messiah

special shout out to dave bautista before i move on. just cause. his rabban doesnt get enough love. he really sells that balance of ruthless power but also incompetency compared to his brother so well. can you guys tell i REALLY like this cast

WE ACTUALLY GOT TO SEE GURNEY PLAYING THE BALISET WE FUCKING WIN Y'ALL

the paul/gurney reunion being the last shred of the old paul. how he gets so happy "i recognized your footsteps, old man" shoot me in the fucking brain stem it would HURT LESS

a bit off topic and it happened earlier (sorry my thoughts are so all over the place) but i like how they actually showed the process of how the water of life is made. it was actually exactly like how i imagined it when i read the books so thats neat !!

anyway. back to the horrors.

i already talked so much about feyd's presence so just another small note. that scene in sietch tabr. he is a MONSTER and i am EATING IT UP

i cant even begin to explain. how much it fucked me up. when paul took the water of life. i knew thats where we were going. i knew it was unavoidable. and yet still. when chani bent over him and screamed at everyone for making him follow this prophecy. when she was forced to shed tears to save his life. when she got him back only to realize she lost him and he wasnt the person she loved anymore. it broke me

chani's utter hatred for the prophecy and what paul is becoming added to it so much. i know some people are unhappy with how much shes been changed from the books but i think its elevated her character and all these scenes so much. and oh my god does zendaya DELIVER when the spotlight is on her. i never doubted her for a moment but all those changes to chani really allowed to let her shine. thats that euphoria acting coming out baby !!!!

SPEAKING OF GOOD ACTING

TIMOTHEE

FUCKING

CHALAMET

listen i hate the fact that he gets cast in everything these days as much as everyone but hes such a talented actor and i cant deny this anymore. the water of life scene really sold it for me.

he was such a perfect paul already in the first movie but this was the moment it really came out. the way he wakes up so calm and collected. lifeless. monotone. theres nothing theres literally nothing

paul atreides the boy who became duke far too young is dead usul who was the lover of chani is dead muad'dib the fedaykin fighter is dead only the kwisatz haderach remains and thats what the prophecy was always leading us to and yet the moment it happens its so haunting

like i cannot say this enough. that complete switch is so sudden but so subtle at the same time. its still paul technically but hes so different

what makes dune's weird concepts so easy to take in once you get into the book is all that internal monologue that really leads you through these complex concepts slowly. and yet in a few shots and a few lines of dialogue timothee chalamet somehow manages to express the idea of "i just learned the secrets of the fucking universe and im about to start a holy war" ???? HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THIS???? HOW ARE YOU THIS TALENTED???? OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! IT WAS A FEW LOOKS A FEW MOVENTS JUST THE RIGHT TONE OF VOICE AND THATS HIM!!! THATS HIM BABY!!!! THATS THE KWISATZ HADERACH AND THE UNIVERSE IS FUCKED !!!!!!!!!

also. anya taylor joy alia. we only had you for a split second but i cannot wait for you. im sure youre going to completely slay the third movie. give us our beloved tragic meow meow. alia is my fave character so i will be JUDGING HEAVILY. she better bring her a-game istg

when paul storms the war council and just completely takes control of the room so easily. thats the bene gesserit conditioning giving him his pedestal and he is making the most of it. he knows exactly what the fuck hes doing. and once more oh my goddddd all that shouting all that emotion and yet a complete lack of it. timothee spare a crumb of talent for the rest of us

also the way in that scene gurney is hesitant about it all until paul proclaims himself the duke of arrakis. and suddenly gurney has house atreides again and he doesnt care what chani does anymore. hes a follower to paul just as everyone else in that room. nothing changes. fuck me man i cant do this anymore

have i mentioned yet im so excited for chani in the next movie. her arc is so interesting. children of dune is defo not happening with the way chani has been set up so i doubt we'll see leto ii and ghanima but. lets hope we still get all the cool stuff wit alia at least. and maybe chani can be the one who leads the charge against her

okay i need to really fucking. get along with it im dragging this post on im so sorry this movie is eating my brain alive

chani still wearing blue during the final fight. im not saying more than that i might cry if i think about it too much

THAT. FINAL. FIGHT. OH MY GODDD OH MY GOD

IT ALL CAME TOGETHER SO SO WELL

THE WORMS

THE SENSE OF SCALE

THE FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY

THE MUSIC HOLY FUCK THE MUSIC HANS ZIMMER YOU OUTDO YOURSELF EVERY TIME

THE SOUND

EVERYTHING FLOWING TOGETHER SO WELL

the way the fremen fight for their messiah but still fly the atreides banner. the way paul leads them as their messiah and as a "fremen" but always proclaims himself duke of house atreides first. oh lorddd im unwell

every time paul menacingly emerged from fog/sand/smoke my life was extended by like 10 years thank u denis

gurney killing rabban with as much ease as he did cleared my skin and watered my crops <3

the way the baron was literally dying and still crawling towards the throne.......... the way at the same time feyd ignored him completely and looked towards the doors reveling in the fight ahead..... if that doesnt tell u everything you need to know about house harkonnen idk what will yall

i also love how no one intervenes as paul walks in and kills the baron. not even feyd. feyd looks like he was a little TOO into it as paul killed him tbh. feyd u little freak. austin butler you talented talented man. im unwell

i AM sad we didnt get to see baby alia stab him but ah well. we got a bunch of other weird dune shit so ill let this one slide. the psychic toddler may be too much even for denis and everything he did give us. we'll always have our 1984 alia <3

OHOHOHOHOHOHOH. OH. HERE WE GO

HERE WE GO YALL

THE SCENE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SINCE READING THE BOOK

THE SCENE THEY SHOWED BITS OF IN THE TRAILER AND THE SCENE IVE BEEN NON STOP YEARNING FOR SINCE!!!

THE DUEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god oh my god oh my goddddd where do i even start

okay so. the way theres no music. no fancy cuts no slow mo no over the top effects. its just the slashing of the blades and those BEAUTIFUL shadowed shots with the setting sun in the background. this really is the sun setting on the peaceful universe. just pain and suffering ahead marked with the blood spilled from the two who were meant to produce the messiah but who both got thrown off this path by the greed and selfishness of their forefathers. guys im normal about paul and feyd. definitely. i definitely have very normal thoughts about how they are foils and yet two sides of the same coin. yes guys

paul making the emperor kiss his ring is already such an insane fucking scene and it translated to the screen so well. amazing performances all around

i didnt talk much about florence pugh's irulan but she really didnt have much time to shine. im excited to see where she goes next and i definitely think shes a great fit but i need to see more of her to really be able to say more

i will say this. the way chani, irulan and jessica are the only ones who dont kneel for paul. the three most important women in his life who give him his power, everything he has. jessica made him and she made him the messiah. chani opened her life up to him, helped him become and in turn control the fremen, and she shed her tears for him and fulfilled her role in the prophecy against her wishes. irulan is his path to the throne, his key to being emperor. and none of them bow before him because why would they bow before a power they are responsible for, a power they own, a power they gave?

but for chani its different ofc. she also refuses to bow because she despises everything paul stands for.

oh my god i could say so much about the last scene being chani. not paul reveling in his victory. paul leaves for his next bloodshed and chani is left behind crying for the person she loves who she knows is gone. crying for her people, again enslaved. crying those same tears that brought the messiah back into this world.

theres a lot to be said about the role of gender in dune and how it hangs over every facet of this world but thats a whole separate analysis post to be had so ill just throw it down here in this little point

another thing chani does very well in the movies is she really makes paul's villainy explicitly clear. SO many people read dune and completely misunderstand it and walk away from it concluding its a "white savior narrative" and nothing more which. yes!! yes it is!!!! but thats not a good thing!!!! its never stated to be a good thing!!!!

this movie is not gonna let you misunderstand the message of the story no matter how blind you try to be to it. paul is not a good guy. hes never been the good guy. hes the protagonist, but hes not the hero. and chani allows that to translate from book to movie very well. have i mentioned yet i love movie chani

chani fills in the holes left behind by the narration and internal monologues of the book and, bonus points, she holds the people who dont understand what dune is about by the hand and tells them explicitly "PAUL IS A BAD GUY!!! DONT IDOLIZE PAUL!!!! DONT WALK AWAY FROM DUNE THINKING ITS PRAISING PAUL'S ACTIONS!!!"

i think thats pretty much all i had to say. i might reblog with additions as they hit me but yeah i. i enjoyed the movie. so so much. i think i might watch it again sometime soon while its still in cinemas.

sorry for being unhinged hope u enjoyed my rants. kiss kiss night night <3

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #paul atreides #chani kynes #jessica atreides #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #rabban harkonnen #vladimir harkonnen #stilgar #alia atreides #irulan corrino #im so crazy im so feral holy shit #okay im going to bed now #its 1 am lmao #ive been writing these down for like 2 hours since i got back

[dixonsgirl93]

Locked in with Daryl Dixon

Daryl Dixon x Fem!reader

Warnings: smut, mutual hand jobs

Word count: 1.2k

Requested by anon

~~

Daryl motions for you to get in the boot, you clamber inside, quickly followed by him who ties the trunk shut with a bloodied rag. The growl and shuffle of walkers gets louder, the car rocking as they bumped into it. They banged on the trunk door, smelling the sweat on you both.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, hoping the rag would be enough to keep you both safe. The trunk was getting increasingly humid, sweat dripped down your back and into your eyes. You tried several times to wipe it away to no avail.

Eventually you were met with a storm, along with the noise of the dead, the sky crackled with thunder, the wind howling in the gaps around you. As if the night could get any worse.

On the bright side, you had Daryl with you who had shuffled back to give you more space in the cramped trunk. While you were grateful, also having claustrophobia, you also wished he’d hold you. You wished a lot of things but knew you wouldn’t get it. Being at least 10 years younger than the man, he probably saw you at best as a little sister. You sighed unintentionally, expressing your disdain for the whole situation.

“You all right?” Daryl’s rough voice came from behind you. You nodded, not trusting your voice. “You sure? You been breathing heavy for hours. You got asthma?” You shook your head.

“I’m fine.” You whispered, shakily, proving you were anything but.

One particular loud bang of a walker on the trunk made you jump and yelp. A warm, heavy hand squeezed your hip gently.

“Don’t worry. We’re safe enough.” His voice was a low rumble in his throat. The vibrations of his chest against your back sent coils of pleasure to your groin.

Another loud clap of thunder as the storm passed overhead made you jump again. You always hated sudden loud noise like that. Daryl’s hand snaked around your waist and pulled you in to his chest, his hand flat against your stomach. You became ultra aware of every part of your body that touched his, momentarily forgetting the storm and the walkers.

You froze for a moment, taken aback at his sudden touch. You had no idea how to approach this. You were sure, however, that this was merely a comforting gesture and not because he had feelings for you.

During the night, while you both lay there, huddled close, another, smaller wave of walkers pass, bumping into the car and startling you awake. For a moment you forgot where you were, feeling only the heat and the pressure of someone holding you. Panic rises in you before a hand gently squeezes your middle.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s me.” A reassuring voice grumbled next to your ear. He sounded a little groggy too, like he’d been napping. Although you were sure he hadn’t, he was always too wired in situations like these.

You start to fidget and try to stretch your limbs and your back and accidentally press into Daryl’s crouch. His hand freezes on your middle.

“Don’t wiggle so much.” His face, his voice, buried in your hair, almost growls and that’s when you feel a new pressure press against your ass.

“Oh.” You whisper and his hand moves over your hip and to hold you there, squeezing gently. A soft grunt escapes him and you decide to test him, pushing your ass back into his crotch again.

“Stop. Please.” His voice comes out strained. Was he really turned on by you? You do it again, wiggling a bit for emphasis. His hand swings around your middle again and he pulls you tight into him, pushing down on your hips so his erection was right against you. You can’t help but moan, soft and breathy. His hand lets go and moves over your thigh, up over your hip, over your arm and back down again leaving your skin feeling electric.

At some point the storm outside passed and the walkers became fewer. Daryl decides to slip a hand under your shirt to massage a breast. You moan and your head falls back a little, enjoying the feel of his large, warm, calloused hand on you.

“You like when I do this?” Daryl’s ragged voice broke the silence. You nod and decide you really wanted to touch him too. Slipping a hand behind you and over his crotch you cup his erection through his jeans. He lets out a grunt and his dick pulses against your hand.

“You’re being so unfair, Daryl.” You whimper, massaging his erection.

“Says you with ya hand on ma dick.” He grunted, effectively humping your hand. “I know I’m being selfish, but you’re enjoying it. So who’s the real winner, here?” He pressed his face in your neck and nuzzled, kissing gently.

Without a word Daryl moved his hand from your shirt and glided it down your body to the buckle of your jeans, here he gently, quietly undid them and slipped a hand in. His fingers found your clit and circled gently. You moaned and grinded back on him, craving more.

“Easy girl, you’re rocking the car.” He murmured into your ear, his breath sending shivers over your skin. You whimpered as his hand sped up, two delightful fingers sending waves of pleasure through you. It wasn’t enough.

You move your hand from outside his jeans and clumsily try to put your hand inside, wrapping a hand around his veiny, throbbing, raging hard cock.

“Fuck.” You gasp, as he thrust into your hand. You were both so desperate for each other, needy, horny as hell but neither of you moved much, neither of you dared turn or shuffle out of clothes in case you brought attention to the car.

“If I keep doing this, reckon you’ll cum on my hand, princess?” He growled, his voice low and hungry. Wetness pooled and the sound of his fingers working on you made it loud in the trunk. “You’re so wet, does my voice turn you on?”

You nod. Your other hand reaches and presses his onto you, increasing the pressure and building up the orgasm, ready for release. Daryl circles his fingers faster and a loud moan escapes you.

“That’s it. Come on.” He urges, thrusting more into your hand. You gasp, gripping his dick as your orgasm comes to the surface, letting out a grunt of pleasure. “Good girl.” He grunts, breathless, as his cock throbs hard before a hot liquid pumps over your hand. He whimpers as his dick becomes sensitive, getting every drop of his cum out onto you.

“Fuck.” He whispers, breathless. He moves his hand from your clit and hugs you around your waist, making sure you stay as close as possible to him.

A couple of moments pass in near silence, both of you spent. You take your cum-covered hand out of his pants, wiping on a rag in the car, smiling at the fact any of it even happened.

“Hey.” You whisper, nudging Daryl gently. “It’s quiet outside. We can leave.” You untie the rag and both of you climb out, buttoning your jeans back up.

Daryl looks up at you and smiles cheekily like he’s just got away with stealing candy.

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