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#I shall be on later after work~
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dnkinktober day 28: panties/lingerie
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plutoswrath · 9 months
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in times of these beautiful supermoons I’m aligning my energy with the biggest dick and the fattest clit there is and blessed beith with both of them amen
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aria0fgold · 2 months
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Hand hurting, break necessarily needed. I shall continue with this fic's shenanigans later.
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jeonghoneyss · 11 months
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almost 3am. been writing notes since 11. fingers hurt. elbow hurts. didn't know that could happen. head hurts. 75-odd pages left to study plus the whole of clinical psychology. help.
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birbfeedersart · 2 years
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i just love this nebulous idea i have of wei wuxian as a servant/lil bro to wen kexing. like, wkx finds baby wei ying in the burial mounds or in ghost valley, takes him in and raises him just as he did a-xiang. so now he has two feral little gremlins to follow him around and wheedle him like ' zhuuuuureeeeen :((( ' when he's TRYING to date a-xu and get revenge on his parents' murderers dammit!!! i also feel that wkx would appreciate wwx's creativity and adaptability, as someone who's had to adapt to impossible circumstances just to survive. plus u KNOW it would be adorable if wkx called wwx 'a-xian' like jiang yanli, don't even try to convince me otherwise. wkx be on his ghost king throne, doing his valley master thing like:
wkx: a-xiang!
gx: here! *salute*
wkx: a-xian!
wwx: here! *salute*
wkx: it's time... to fuck up the jianghu >:)
gx & wwx: :DDD
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chaudharis · 2 years
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With my headcanoning of Hammond as trans, personally I like to think Trace knew her pre-transition in 2005 and she only transitioned a few years later (so og trace would have known her then), so when the Trace clone meets her again he doesn't recognize her at first
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AW YEAHHHH i do very much like trans hammond a lot honestly. should play with that more. but thats so fun. i love the idea of armthetos being there too bc no one else can fucking see him too so what hammond sees rn is this big ol thang just. blankly staring at her. while for trace hes like ??? they seem familiar who is this ???????? while athetos is like. pogging and going THATS MY GIRL BEST FRIEND THERE SHE IS THERES LIZ HI LIZ HI HI HI HI HI HI HI !!!!! hes very loud. very fun scenario
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endusviolence · 1 month
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Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?
I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?
In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".
Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.
This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.
Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.
The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.
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[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]
There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.
This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.
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[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]
As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.
But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?
Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.
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niennanir · 9 months
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Listen to your elders
So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.
So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.
But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?
In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.
Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download
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Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 
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No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.
Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife
You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.
Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:
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use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.
Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.
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Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.
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You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.
Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour
In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock
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Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)
Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.
Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine
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Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.
Voila:
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I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.
The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.
If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 
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meiknshi · 5 months
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seeing as there’s the new ep today I feel I should make a post about ryo’s whereabouts during shibuya
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✨Sensitivity✨
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I am an absolute SLUT for Luci’s wings so I wanted to write something with them :), huge thank you to @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis for the help 💖
Also I’m legit on a cruise ship rn, but @amberlouise473 knows I gotta feed y’all like I’m tossing corn to my chickens 🤣
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: You’re super curious about Lucifer’s wings, but neither of you knew how sensitive they were. You didn’t know how sensitive you could be either…
Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, ruined clothes, pet names, oral (f receiving), face riding, over stimulation, multiple orgasms
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It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.
“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!
With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”
“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why you had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”
A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”
“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…
Perhaps that was a question for another time.
“Are they heavy?,” you inquired.
“Oh! Umm, I don’t think so,” Lucifer pondered. “I don’t really notice if they are. I might have gotten used to them over the last 10,000 or so years.”
“Can I…touch them?,” you asked shyly, averting Lucifer’s gaze.
He smiled. “Of course, love. Let’s go back to our room, shall we?”
Lucifer’s wings disappeared for now as he gently grabbed your hand and led you out of his office. Once you reached your bedroom, he unfastened his shirt and threw it off to the side. It made you blush, even though his bare chest was not a new sight to you. Lucifer noticed your reddened face and smirked.
“It’s a little easier this way, don’t you think?,” he chuckled. He walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing his legs in the process. He tapped his thigh, offering you a seat in his lap. You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, straddling him. “You ready?,” he asked with a little smile. You nodded your head eagerly. In an instant, his three sets wings appeared again. You noticed something was a little different though.
“I could have sworn they were bigger,” you puzzled.
“No, you’re right, they were,” Lucifer laughed. “I can control how large or small they need to be. They might have broken something in here if they were any bigger!”
You chuckled lightly. They were even more breathtaking up close, his scarlet feathers glistened even in the dim lighting of the room. You stuck out your hands and touched the top of his first set of wings. Unexpectedly, Lucifer inhaled sharply from your touch, screwing his eyes shut. You pulled away instantly.
“Oh no!,” you gasped. “Did I hurt you? I swear I barely touched them! I’m sorry!”
Lucifer exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. “No, no, it’s alright, love,” he cooed, “it wasn’t painful. I just didn’t expect the sensation. Let’s just say they’re…more sensitive than I originally thought.” It was only then you felt a bump forming between your legs.
Oh…OH!
You quickly caught on to what he was referring to. And having you straddle his lap probably wasn’t helping. A small smirk crept across your face. You couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm from your touch; the thought excited you.
“Well, in that case…” you smiled slyly, reaching out for his wings once more. This time, you gave them a slightly firmer grip than before. Lucifer nearly yelped from your touch and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hands up and down the tops of his wings, almost massaging them in a way. Lucifer was unable to hold back his moans.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he panted.
You loved the sight of him bending so easily to your simple touches. You wondered if you could break him. You began to shift your hips in his lap, grinding on the now very apparent bulge in his pants. Lucifer nearly sobbed as you ground your hips against him. You moved your hands down to his second set of wings to give them some attention. You could tell he was unraveling quickly.
“D-Dear,” he choked out, “i-if you don’t stop, I’m g-gonna…f-fuck…”
His plea only made you grind against him at a faster pace while continuing to stroke his sensitive wings. At this point he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, only broken moans and gutural sounds left his lips. You moved your hands down to his smallest set of his wings, pinching them between your fingers.
“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” Lucifer cried out as your movements finally pushed him over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, completely ruining in pants. Once he came down from his high, he looked into your eyes, almost distraught.
“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His wings disappeared from sight as he buried his head into you chest
“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you told him as you lifted his head up to plant a tender kiss to his lips. The small tears that had formed in his eyes fell down the side of his face, but you wiped them away with your thumbs. “Luci, please don’t apologize,” you soothed. “You never have to feel sorry for that! Did you feel good?”
Lucifer steadied his breathing, trying his best to calm down. “Yes, love, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the mattress while he stood up, discarding the rest of his now filthy clothes. “But I absolutely refuse to be the only one being pleasured tonight.”
Without warning, Lucifer leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, filing your mouth with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, feeling as though you might be devoured by him. Lucifer tugged at the hem of your pajama pants, asking permission to remove them. “Mhmm,” was all you could mumble. In one swift motion, your pants had vanished and all you felt was the cool air on your legs. Lucifer brought down his fingers to your folds, loving the feeling of how wet you were for him. He captured your moan on his lips, but suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you to whine in protest.
Lucifer broke your kiss and brought his soaked finger to his lips, tasting your sweet nectar. “Mmm, you always taste so delectable, darling,” he marveled. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, he knew just what buttons to press when it came to you. He crawled back up on the bed and laid flat on his back, his head propped up by the pillows. “Come have a seat, sweetheart,” he teased as he pointed to his coy smiling face.
Your face became extreme hot as you crawled towards the demon king. You made your way on top of him and came to a halt when your dripping cunt hovered right above Lucifer’s eager smile.
“A meal fit for a king, truly,” he laughed as he dug his face into your aching pussy. You nearly screamed as his forked tongue worked his magic along your slit. He devoured you, making sure every inch of you was consumed. His lips found your clit and started to kiss and suck at it. He’d only just started and you were ready to snap.
“O-Oh my God, Lucifer, shhhiiittt, I’m so close…s-s-so close…,” you whined.
“God can’t hear you down here, angel,” he teased you before continuing to lap at your folds. He made quick work of you, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.
“Fuuuuccckkkk, imcummingIMCUMMIMG,” you screamed as you finally felt your walls clench and spasm around nothing. Lucifer happily swallowed your juices as your orgasm started to recede. You tried to lift yourself up off Lucifer’s face, but he kept a firm grip on your legs.
“I’m not done with you, love,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, golden shackles formed around your ankles, the chain hooked underneath Lucifer’s back. A twisted look of fear and passion flashed across your face. You were trapped.
“L-Luci…what are you-” you tried to asked but were cut off by another long lick up your sensitive cunt. A gutural moan escaped your mouth, you still hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm.
“I thought it would only be fair to ruin you, since you ruined my clothes,” he chastised playfully. “But if at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll let you go immediately, okay?”
“Al-Alright,” you stuttered, trembling from the anticipation.
Lucifer hummed against your lower lips. “I’ll make this a little easier for you, sweetheart.” You saw Lucifer’s form start to change beneath you. His horns had erupted from his head while his eyes shifted to a deep red and gold color with onyx irises. “Something for you to hold onto,” he murmured sensually.
Tentatively, you took hold of his horns and braced yourself for his next move. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tongue attacking your cunt once more. The grip you had on his horns could have torn your skin clean off with how tight you were holding them while he nipped and sucked your overstimulated clit. Before you knew it, your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Then your third, your fourth, your cunt was getting absolutely abused by Lucifer who hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down since he started. After your fifth orgasm washed over you, your legs had given out from under you, completely collapsing on top of Lucifer.
“No more…,” you begged. “No more, please…”
Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shackles around your ankles disappeared in an instant. You conjured up the remainder of your strength to push yourself off him and roll over onto your side, an absolutely breathless mess. You could hardly keep your eyes open. You could feel yourself losing consciousness until Lucifer pulled you flush to his chest.
“You did so well, my dear,” he murmured against your ear. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”
“Sleep…” was all you could muster. Lucifer chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.
“Goodnight, love,” you heard him whisper as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was the best sleep you ever had.
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“I just think they’re neat!” - Me w/ Lucifer’s wings also Lucifer inventend pussy eating, this is fact, ALSO also something something handlebar horns
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youraverageaemondsimp · 3 months
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Sweet Nectar // Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader
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Summary: Aemond feels ever so slightly jealous when he watches his wife feed their babe, he'll have a taste for himself tonight.
WARNINGS: mdni, afab!reader, lactation kink, breeding kink, unprotected p in v sex, reader is already a mom, breastfeeding, aemond craving the good old tiddy milk, tiddy sucking, teasing, biting, nipple play, aemond is so down bad for the milkers. + not proofread.
WC: 2,078
A/N: I suddenly got the urge to write this I'm not kidding 😭😭 // diviver credits to @cafekitsune
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You coo softly while gently rocking back and forth as the small babe in your arms begins getting fussy in between your arms, you pat her gently and reassure the fussy babe, while caressing her cheek.
“Are you hungry, my dear?” You ask her as if she'll respond verbally, a small croak leaves her throat before she coos, stretching her tiny arms and placing it upon your breast as a way to answer your question. You chuckle at her action before pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Shall I take her to the nursemaid, princess?” The maidservant allotted to you questions, putting your comfort as a first priority, you shake your head, “No need, I shall feed the babe myself.” You reject her politely, “Can you undo the lace?” You ask her, and she nods, her fingers making quick work of the lace that's holding the top of your gown together, you pull the material down — along with your chemise — just enough for one of your breasts to be exposed but cover everything else.
You hold the baby in a feeding position, and she immediately latches onto your nipple, suckling as she makes soft satisfied noises, as her hunger is being satiated. You giggle at her cuteness and watch as she closes her eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.
The door to your shared chamber opens and you lift your head up to see Aemond, carrying a bunch of scrolls and books in his hands, he sets them down on the nearby table before turning his attention to you. “My prince.” the maidservant greets and Aemond nods, “Prepare a bowl of water and a rag, after that, leave us alone.” He commands her and she bows, swiftly beginning to do what she's been told. After the maid leaves the bowl and leaves, Aemond quickly begins to retire for the night, undressing himself, usually, he would call in a manservant or you would help him, but he cannot call the manservant when you're breastfeeding, and neither can you help him because of that.
So he does it himself, after undoing his upper garment, he wears nothing but his white plain transparent tunic and breeches ; that are more suited for sleepwear, loose and thin. Aemond later washes his hands and forearms thoroughly, ridding them of any kind of dirt before making his way to you.
“How was your day, Husband?” You ask him, watching as he comes near and stands next to you, staring at you for a second before sitting down beside you. “Hm, t'was decent, what about you?” He asks you, his gaze dropping down to your chest. “It was good, I did not wish to partake in any social meetings today, but rather decided to spend it with her.” You look down at your child who is now sleeping. Aemond hums before he lays his head on your shoulder getting comfortable in your presence enough to express his desires.
“I want to have my wife tonight.” He mutters, nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck as his gaze remains fixated on your chest while he rests his hand on your thigh, slowly drawing imaginary patterns on it, indicating what he wants. Your face heats up at his implications, “You will, husband, let me call the servant and have her taken to the nursery for tonight.” You reply to him, slowly pulling her away from your breast and covering yourself up.
“I will call for the servant.” He offers, hoping to help you out and you nod, he opens the chamber door stepping out and turning to the guard before asking the guard to fetch a servant, to which he immediately obeys and goes to get one. Aemond gets inside, making his way over to you before he takes your child from you and hands her over to the servant who had entered the room just then. “Take care of her for the night in the nursery, should there be any news that she was hurt in any way, I will cut off all of your limbs.” He threatens to which the poor servant just nods her head in fear assuring him that no harm would occur to your child, and then she takes her away.
The door closes and Aemond secures it tightly so it doesn't open upon impact. And all the while Aemond was talking to the servant, you had quickly gotten undressed and were now sitting in your chemise, putting the gown that had fallen to the floor away.
Aemond goes straight to the bed and sits on it and you watch as he removes his eyepatch, placing it on the table next to the bed before he turns his attention to you. He looked so ethereal when he was staring at you, his sapphire glinted as the fire from the chambers reflected off from it. “Come.” He commands and you slowly make your way over to him, now standing in front of him.
He looks up at you the tension thick in the air as his eye is filled with pure desire for you. he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your chest and pulling you, this causes you to stumble and lose your balance which he takes as an advantage to pull you onto the bed with him, flipping you over and getting on top.
His hair curtains around your face as he stares at you, his eye moving back and forth between your own, taking in your beauty. You raise your hand and gently tuck his hair into his ear before caressing his cheek, “You're so beautiful.” You hear him say and you smile, “I could say the same about you, husband.” You respond, He gives you a small smile before tilting his head slightly and connecting his lips to yours.
His lips felt soft against yours, you reciprocated and kissed him back. You felt the heat bloom in your core as he slowly grinds himself against your lower abdomen while kissing you. He slowly slides his hand against yours before intertwining your fingers with his. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside, allowing him to deepen the kiss which resulted in him humming in satisfaction.
He pulled away shortly after, panting for air, his kisses then trailed down towards your neck, he pecked and nipped at the skin of your neck, leaving bite marks as a way to mark you as his, he untwined his hand from yours to pull down your chemise, causing your tits to spill out of their confines.
He presses kisses down to the valley in between your breasts before he stays there for a while, “You know, I'm jealous—” he begins, his other hand coming up and gently fondling with your breast, “— that our daughter gets to have these whenever she wishes, meanwhile I'd have to wait until night.” He whines slightly, his thumb pressing over your sensitive nipple making you gasp slightly.
He decides he doesn't want to waste any more time and immediately wraps his lips around your nipple, pulling and suckling on your breast like a babe, he swirls his tongue and flicks it up and down the bud, Aemond hums in satisfaction when he feels the taste of your milk in his mouth.
He squeezes and fondles your other breast, rolling your nipple between his index and thumb finger and pulling meanly on it. Your breathing becomes shorter and faster as you begin to get aroused by his ministrations which prompts you to rub your thighs together trying to ease the throbbing between your legs with some friction.
It doesn't go unnoticed by Aemomd, but he instead focuses his attention to your other breast, repeating his actions and drinking your milk selfishly for himself, his teeth grazes against your bud and you wince slightly at the burn it causes only for him to bite onto it, making you whine and squirm before he sucks on it again as a way to soothe the pain he just caused. He pulls away with a wet pop and you take notice of the milk that's dripping from the side of his mouth and down to his neck which was such a perverse sight, yet you couldn't help make you feel more aroused so you guided his head back to your breast again.
And so he took your breast in his mouth once again, drinking all of your milk up you moaned in pleasure as his tongue flicker up and down your bud. You whimpered because you are sensitive from earlier feeding.
You felt him humping against your thigh as he tried ease the tension between his very own legs, he let go of your breast, unable to hold himself back anymore, he sat straight up and began to slip down his pants and take off his tunic, you did the same with your chemise, discarding it and throwing it someone to the side of your chamber.
He spreads your legs wide and lines his cock against your entrance slowly pushing it in, this causes you to tremble in excitement as his cock stretches you deliciously, you let out a gasp once he is fully settled. He lifts your hips off the mattress, holding you by your thighs as he slowly begins to move.
His thrusts were slow at first, almost as if he's teasing himself until he begins to pick up on the momentum, thrusting his hips back and forth, he begins to pick up the speed quite steadily.
You grind your hips to match his rhythm as your body jolts up and down the bed, your tits bouncing as a result, the moans of his name leave your lips like holy chants, “Aemond— oh fuck– right there– Aemond—!” all the while his tip is continuously hitting that sweet spot of yours, he grips one of your breasts and stares at it intently, “They look so good when they're swollen and full of milk.” He refers to your tits, he squeezes your tit slightly and watches as droplets of milk begin oozing out. “Oh gods— you're still full– fuck.” He quickly shifts his weight, dropping your lower body down onto the mattress and leaning forward to take your breast in his mouth while he fucks you.
“Seven fucking hells–— I don't think I can ever get enough of this ; perhaps I should keep you pregnant constantly, Yes? So your tits are always full of milk, for the babe” he grunts, his peak nearing as he mouths at your nipple. “And for me— ” His thrusts become more frantic and desperate, “You would like it wouldn't you? I know you would. You'd love to be full of me— I can only imagine how gorgeous you'd look, constantly waddling around while carrying my child— Answer me.” He growls. “Yes yes yes yes! yesyes! Aemond! I'd love it so so so much please please—” You babble as you feel your peak nearing. “Good girl— fuck!” He moans as he peaks, and your babbling is cut short as you gasp because you too reach your high right after him, the pleasure explodes inside you like a volcano, slowly seeping and coursing through your veins, you feel hot, warm, cold, suffocated all at the same time due to the intensity of the pleasure.
Aemond slows down his thrusts before fully stopping and pulling out, he watches as your cunt pushes out his spend to which he tuts disappointedly at before scooping it up with his finger and pushing it all back in.
“Here I am; planning to keep you full of my child and yet you're here denying it? Such a disobedient wife.” He slaps your clit as a punishment making you whimper, “I apologise— t'wasnt my intention.” You reply, breathlessly and he hums.
He lays down next to you, catching his breath along with you. You watch and his hands rests on your lower abdomen. He grabs you by your hips and turns you around to face him before he grabs the sheets and throws them over you both before pulling you close, your breasts pressing up against him, and the milk transfering over to his chest, making it sticky.
“Aem— it's messy.” Your voice comes out slurred and Aemond simply hums, “Let it be.” He hugs you even tighter, and you sigh, before wrapping your arm around his waist, hugging him back and you both slowly drift off into sleep.
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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2K notes · View notes
thebisexualdogdad · 6 months
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One Piece preferences - how they tell you that they like you (GN!reader)
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Luffy -
● Luffy is not one for shame or embarrassment yet he's always nervous around you
● he always awkwardly rambles when you're near him
● and he even asks if you want the last bite of food before he takes it for himself like usual
● he goes to Usopp first for advice which Sanji and Zoro overhears and tells him to ignore Usopp's terrible advice and listen to them instead
● which then Nami overhears and calls them all idiots and gives Luffy actually good advice
● Luffy finally tells you he likes you but rambles again while talking so you kiss him to shut him up
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Nami -
● she doesn't
● you have to make the first move
● even when you do tell her you like her she makes you work for it
● "I'll go out with you when we find the one piece"
● "I'm holding you to that"
● a couple months later when she thinks you've proven yourself she sets two plates of food in front of you guys
● "what's this?"
● "we're on a date"
● "I thought you weren't going to go out with me until we found the one piece?"
● "I changed my mind now start eating before I change it again"
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Sanji -
● He is very confident and makes it known he likes you the moment you meet
● He flirts with you the entire time you're eating in the baratie
● "Anything else I can get for you cutie? I've been told I make a mighty fine dessert, that is unless you want me for dessert instead"
● "just the check please sweet talker"
● he brings the check to you with his number written on the bottom
● "just so you know I do accept tips in the form of a date"
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Zoro -
● no matter how much Luffy points out to Zoro that he likes you he refuses to acknowledge his feelings for you
● It's not until you get critically hurt in a fight that he finally admits to himself that he likes you
● you've been unconscious for days and he never leaves your side while you're recovering
● you wake up to him sitting at your bedside and you've never seen him look this worried
● "thank God I thought I lost you"
● "you saying you care about me Zoro?"
● "yes Y/N, I care you about you a lot so please don't do that to me again"
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Usopp -
● always brings you flowers and little trinkets
● "I saw this in town and thought you'd like it"
● names one of his slingshot moves after you
● all around gentleman trying to woo you
● Zoro "you know he likes you right"
● "of course I know, I just think it's sweet how hard he tries"
● the first time you kiss him on the cheek to thank him for your gift he blushes so hard and nearly faints
● he goes around proudly telling everyone that you kissed him and that he's your boyfriend now
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Buggy -
● puts on an entire show for you
● pulling out all of his best jokes and stunts
● making the crowd cheer extra hard
● he does a huge speech throughout the entire performance about how you two could conquer the world together
● and how he needs you by his side to be the best pirate he can be
● for his final trick he uses his powers to send his hand up to you with a bouquet of flowers
● "what do you say Y/N? Want to be my co captain?"
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Shanks -
● whenever he's in town he tells you stories of his adventures over drinks at the bar
● and always gives you part of his treasure that his crew found on their recent voyage as gifts
● "You're really giving me this? Do you know how valuable it is?"
● "There's no treasure in this world that I value more than you"
● "well Shanks it sounds like you're trying to tell me that you like me"
● "I would travel the entire ocean for you my dear Y/N and I would love if you joined me on my next adventure"
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Mihawk-
● Literally kills a guy for you
● you're complaining about some jerk you ran into at the bar
● he mumbles "he shall pay for disrespecting my Y/N" and excuses himself
● he returns a little bit later with the guys decapitated head in his hand and blood on his shirt
● "you said you had a problem with this guy so I killed him in your honor"
● "Oh thats… sweet"
● "I knew you'd be impressed. So, dinner?"
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Cabaji -
● always tries to look cool in front of you
● doing tricks on his unicycle
● like riding it through a flaming hoop
● or having you stand on his shoulders while he cycles around the ring
● or putting someone on the spinning wheel and throwing knives at them landing impossibly close to their skin
● "that was cool wasn't it Y/N"
● "sure was Cabaji"
● "So what do you say you and I get drinks together sometime?"
2K notes · View notes
caesium-55 · 22 days
Text
—seven days [ epilogue ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
warnings: mentions of death and suicide.
author's note: here's the epilogue and the end end of the seven days series. thank you everyone for showing love to this fic! i was honestly so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of all of you. also, i apologize for all the broken hearts i caused after posting chapters 4-7. stay safe yall! i'll rest my fingers for real now. my doctor wasn't very happy with me. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm @seasonswinter @kravitzwhore @mycure156 i hope i didn't forget anyone
masterlist.
Julio [Name] was not an ambitious person. He didn't have dreams or concrete plans in life. But in 1985, his first dream was born. He wanted to be an F1 racer after reading about the Portuguese Grand Prix in a local newspaper where he saw a Brazilian racer even younger than him participate in it and winning it. Ayrton Senna was the racer’s name, twenty-five years old. At that time, Julio [Name] was the same age.
He immediately searched for the nearest karting track. He brought his then girlfriend, Sally Kingston, a dental student in USC, to the kart zone for their date. It was safe to say that driving was not exactly his forte. He crashed his rental kart and had to pay the damages. He was afraid that he made himself a loser in front of the Sally Kingston, the richest, prettiest, and nicest girl from L.A., and that she wouldn't wanna go out with a bumpkin like him anymore, but she had only laughed at him—her eyes turning into little crescents, showing too much teeth and gums—and from then and there, he knows he’s going to marry Sally Kingston one day. He might not have become a F1 driver, but he ended up marrying the girl of his dreams.
Him and Sally welcomed a son in 1991. They named him Damiano and he turned out to be a carbon copy of his beloved wife, not that Julio was complaining. When Damiano turned five, Julio brought him in the kart zone and let him try driving the kart. Damiano adored it so Julio signed him up for racing school. Three weekends later, Damiano got sick of driving around in circles so he stopped. Sally gave birth to a daughter in the same year—1996.
Five years later, he brings [Name], his mija, into the kart zone. He expected that you’ll be like Damiano, too, getting sick of the thing after three weekends or so. You didn't. You loved karting and going fast, almost dangerously so. You lasted five weekends so Julio signed you up for the kart zone’s junior racing school and you were their first female member. You won your first race when you were six, only seven months after you officially joined.
“She was born to race,” the team head told Julio. Julio then decided that he’d do whatever it takes so you could become a F1 driver.
Like his initial dream, his dream for you couldn't be brought to reality. When you were nine, you had to stop karting for financial reasons. Damiano was in high school, Rafael had leukemia, and Dominic had just been born. When Julio told you the news, you were sad but you understood why the decision was made so you never complained. You learned how to play billiards instead and your Abuelo was the one who taught you. It's cheaper than karting so Sally and Julio gave you their full support.
Julio [Name] was pleasantly surprised when you told him that you got accepted in USC’s engineering department years later. He half expected that you’d be like Damiano, who took an interest in dentistry, and was attending dental school. He was going to be a dentist like his mother. He was a perfect copy of Sally.
“If I can't be a racer, I’ll become a mechanical engineer,” you declared, head held high. Julio couldn't be anymore proud. You were living his dream.
If you asked Julio [Name] if he had lived a happy life despite not reaching his dreams, he would say yes without hesitation. He married the love of his life, Sally Kingston, now Sally [Last Name]. His first son, Damiano, had topped dental school and followed in his mother’s footsteps. His daughter, [Name], graduated with flying colors, a mechanical engineering degree under her belt and entered the motorsports industry, the first in the family to do so. (You even got him Fernando Alonso’s autograph! That's his second favorite driver!) Not only that, she volunteered at the LAFD during her college years and competed in a billiards tournament in Vegas, Australia, and the UK. You had the potential to be an international-level pool player but you didn't pursue the sport because you wanted to be an engineer. Rafael didn't let leukemia beat him and now, he’s finishing up his last year in CalTech, pursuing mechanical engineering like his older sister. A research team in Sweden had been eyeing him for a while now. Dominic, on the other hand, is steadily building a career for himself in volleyball. He was offered a sports scholarship in Harvard so, despite the fact that he’s going even farther than his siblings with no relatives near him like in L.A., Julio pushed him to pursue what he wanted. His children are his pride and joy. He spent every single day bragging about his children to his colleagues. The others had expressed their envy to him. Did Julio save a country in his last life to have such great children?
Furthermore, he’d been promoted to be the captain of Station 131 in Austin. Julio may not have driven an F1 car but he wouldn't even trade this family over anything in this world, not even the life of luxury and thrill of a Formula One Driver.
(What Julio didn't know was that Damiano had serious depression in dental school that he carried even after graduating, that you weren't accepted as an engineer in F1 and was stuck in a managerial position for the last five years, that Sweden found a better researcher than Rafael so he’s stuck suffering physically and mentally in a degree with his future unclear and cloudy, and Dominic was slowly losing passion in volleyball but it's the only thing putting him through college right now so he grits his teeth and put himself on court. No one told Julio. Julio got enough of his dreams broken already.)
Truthfully, despite working for Red Bull for half a decade, you never liked its taste. You were always the Monster Energy type of girl. It's the one drink that kept you functioning through all the all-nighters you pulled in engineering school. However, you kind of lost the palate for Monster Energy so now, here you are, standing outside a gas station mini mart in the middle of the dusty highway that leads to El Paso. You hold the chilled can of Red Bull against the side of your neck, satisfied with the feeling of something cool pressing against your skin. The temperature in Texas is going absolutely crazy this time of the year. In your other hand, two cigarette sticks balance in between your fingers. You crave the deadly nicotine. Desperately. But you're not stupid enough to smoke at a gas station because of your cravings.
Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your pocket to see who messaged you. You snicker when you view the barrage of pictures from the Austin Grand Prix that Leo sent. A stolen shot of Logan, meme faces of Alex, the air show, a selfie with THE Fernando Alonso, and a Tiktok video with the other Williams mechanics.
You watched the race from the stands today and truthfully, you prefer watching the race in the garage than on the stands. It's unbelievably boring to be there. People pay thousands of dollars to sit under the excruciating heat of the sun and catch a glimpse of very fast cars for a nanosecond. You wouldn't even catch sight of if you blink. Nevertheless, you're happy that Leo is having the time of his life. You wish you share the same shoes.
leo: so so sad that u have to go
you: id be flattered if u actually mean it
leo: *rolling eyes emoji*
leo: i hope you choke on your beer
you: i hope you choke on the celebratory champagne
you: and i dont drink and drive
leo: good to know ur not stupid
leo: on a serious note make sure to drive to el paso safely
you: aight aight
leo: u know i have something to confess
you: if it's something stupid, don't bother
leo: ur stupid
you: fuck u
leo: shut up
leo: just wanna say i didn't break up with u bc u gave max too much attention
leo: i know that's what i said but i only said that bc i knew that u needed max to achieve ur dreams
leo: and idk i just thought max wouldn't give it to u not when im still dating u
you: that's stupid
you: max isn't like that
leo: hes in love with u
Your heart stutters. You ignore it.
you: liar
leo: i could tell u lil shit
leo: idk he looked like someone who’d hold a grudge
you: he does hold grudges
leo: and i cant allow myself to stand in between you and the one person who can give you your dream you know?
leo: i loved you enough to let you go to him
You choke on your saliva. You don't love Leo romantically anymore and you are sure that the feelings are mutual but his abrupt confession is enough to bring back the pain of loving him and letting him go all over again.
leo: u sure u won’t stay to see him?
leo: he’s the one who wants to see you the most
you: his ig messages makes me think otherwise
You're a fucking coward. A pussy.
leo: you didn't see the man [name]
leo: you don't know how empty he looks now
A shadow of guilt darkens your eyes. You quickly shove your phone into the pocket of your jacket. You open the Red Bull and take a large swig, almost draining the entire can. You exhale loudly after drinking, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You stare at the vast expanse of the dry earth before you, starting to understand the appeal of aimless road trips in the southern roads.
The world seems to be turning in slow motion now.
Ever since your father died, time feels like it was moving too fast. You arrived at the hospital half an hour after Julio was officially pronounced dead. At that time, you felt like the world was ending. Your knees gave out in the middle of the hospital hallway. Your mother’s wail echoed in your ears. Damiano and Dominic were trying to console her, both of whom were crying terribly. You stare at them, face empty despite the hurricane brewing within you. Rafael wrapped his arms around you and you held onto him as he cried uncontrollably.
Your mother possessed a weak heart. She’d grown weaker and weaker day by day after your father passed. Your father’s station held a ceremony for him to pay tribute to their fallen captain. You were the one who carried his helmet all throughout the ceremony because the entire station knew you were his most prized child. When you flipped the helmet, there was a photo taped on it. A photo of the entire family at your graduation ceremony in USC. You maintained that tired and empty stare during the entire procession. In the middle of the ceremony, your mother collapsed.
Your father’s death was the first domino to be tipped. Your mother’s collapse during the funeral was the second. From then on, everything turned to shit. Your mother had always been frail and prone to sickness so it didn’t surprise you when she had grown so weak in a matter of days. She couldn't sleep. She didn't want to eat. She lost her will to do anything else. You took her to the hospital after a week because you were afraid she was beginning to become malnourished. Damiano suggested moving your mother to El Paso, to your Abuelo and Abuela’s farm, so your mother could recuperate there, and you agreed. The entire family moved to El Paso quickly, leaving the house in Vista Del Pueblo empty and celebrated the New Year there.
You opened your phone for the first time since you landed in ATX on the 30th and a barrage of messages had been sent to you. From Daniel, Logan, Leo, Kendall, Julia. You freeze when you see Max’s name. Your finger hovers above it, hesitating. Your mind trailed back to the five years you spent in Red Bull, to all the memories with Max in it, to what happened inside his penthouse in Monaco, the jet, the night you spent in his sheets, the shoes and—
Fuck.
“Kelly,” you mumbled to yourself, typing her username in the search box. You began typing up a message. You're not mentally equipped to write a long message of apology. Your mental dictionary was not ready to use so you decided to half ass the entire message and hope for the best.
you: sorry about the breakup
you: i didn't know about the shoes
you: i didn't take it
you: im so sorry
you: i hope you're not too hurt
In truth, you loved Kelly for Max. You never had problems with her. At first, you were concerned about the great age gap between her and Max as she was even older than Danny but then you figured that you did not have a say because Leo was also younger than you, born in the same year as Max. Then, you saw how she was so caring to Max, so patient in dealing with his misplaced anger, so supportive. You saw how Max transformed into a better version of himself, something you are not even capable of doing, because of Penelope and Kelly. How he became the world's most massive girl dad without trying. You ignored every bitter feeling that sprouted on your chest because you saw Max was happy and his happiness always came first. And now, you’re here, apologizing to Kelly for taking Max away from her.
kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you
kelly: take care of him for me
you: thank you for loving him
You can't imagine how hurt Kelly was. Imagine dating and preparing a man so he could be perfect for another girl.
you: but i can’t do what you're asking
you: not anymore
“Not anymore,” you whisper to yourself, as if uttering it to the wind would cement it as the truth.
Not anymore, Max. I’m sorry.
Rafael and Dominic told you that they want to drop out of college to help you out with Mama a few days after New Year’s. You quickly told them no, to finish college and that you could handle taking care of two senior citizens and your sickly mother and help out on the farm since you’re essentially jobless at the moment.
The third domino is Damiano. You were always aware he’d been clinically depressed, taking medications to help him get better. Whatever he went through in dental school, he carried it with him until he was working. You believed he was getting better. He was seeing a therapist for years now and you were checking up on him every day. Then, like Mama, he just…. became worse. Rafael found him submerged in the bathtub in his apartment, red painting his wrists. Had Rafael not been there at the right time, Damiano would have followed Papa Julio.
The fourth domino is Dominic. He ruined his hand in March. The doctor told him it was dangerous for him to continue playing volleyball competitively. It was either he learned how to set with only his non-dominant hand because his dominant hand is partially crippled or he stopped playing all together. He’d choose the second option with no hesitation as he had lost his passion for the sport but if he’s not playing for Harvard anymore, no one would be able to pay his fees until graduation. Not when Julio died, not when Sally was too sick to continue working, not when Damiano was currently unstable, not when you’re the only one who had been supporting the entire family through your entire savings account. Red Bull must have paid you a lot of money because you’ve been keeping the entire family afloat for months now.
The fifth domino is Rafael, who got his entire thesis overhauled so now, his graduation was out of the picture. It sucked. He’d always been expected to follow his older siblings’ footsteps, both of whom are academically excelling individuals and Rafael had been studying and studying and studying. So why was this happening to him? Why was this happening to his family?
The sixth domino was yet to be tipped over.
You refuse to fall.
You blink, suddenly back in reality when you hear a loud caw of a bird flying above your head. You shake your head, tossing the Red Bull in a nearby trash can and returning inside the mini mart. The amount of caffeine in a Red Bull isn’t enough. You need more. You need fucking coffee.
Gas station coffee sucks but you’re never the type who complains. El Paso is still eight hours away and you’re sure you're going to be driving your motorcycle the entire night just to reach the farm the next morning.
You walked towards the Yamaha XSR 155 parked in front of the mini-mart, a styro cup of coffee that’s as black as your soul and as bitter as your life in your hand. Hypnotizing swirls of steam rise from the cup. In each step you take, the key that is attached to your hip jingles.
It's a little past four in the afternoon but the darkness of the sky makes you think it's around six PM. You pocket your cigarettes and stand beside your motorcycle, hand on your hip while the other brings the cup of coffee to your mouth. A car suddenly arrives, coming to a screeching halt in front of you. You flinch in surprise, almost spilling your coffee in your hands. You hiss loudly, brows furrowing, a curse sitting on the tip of your tongue. You hear the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut and when you look up—
“Max.”
He’s still in his Red Bull overalls, drenched in sweat as if he ran to the gas station instead of driving. His hair is windswept, sticking out in multiple directions almost attractively so. He looks simultaneously distraught and relieved when your eyes met. The longing in his eyes. God. You unconsciously take a step back and turn around—a flight response—when he charges in your direction.
A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, stopping you from your tracks and causing your coffee to spill and fall down pathetically on the floor. You avoided the puddle, hands reaching behind you to guide Max away from the steaming liquid. But it’s too late. You saw the hot coffee touch his skin.
“Max!” you exclaim, eyes going wide. Your hand wraps around his forearm, pulling it but his grip on you tightens so you resort to tapping his arm in hopes that he’ll let go and you can inspect his injured hand and make a quick run for the mini mart for first-aid supplies.
“Max, let go,” you say, panicking. “Your hand—”
“Don’t leave,” his voice cracks.
“I won't go, okay? Let go and I’ll—”
“No,” the hug tightens and you suck in a breath. “You’ll leave again. I know you’ll leave again.”
“I’ll fix your hand. You can’t burn your hand—”
“I can endure it. Let me have this please,” he pleads. You pull his hand but Max remains stubborn. Resigned, you sigh. It turns out that you’re still the same, giving whatever Max wanted.
“I’m sorry for getting angry,” he begins. “I’m sorry for stopping you from going to Renault. I’m sorry for promising that I’d talk to Christian. I’m sorry that I didn't. I’m sorry that you had to break up with Leo because of me. I’m sorry that I realized that I fell in love with you while dating Kelly. I’m sorry for the shoes. I’m sorry for getting drunk. I’m sorry for being so selfish. I’m sorry for not considering you. I’m sorry for loving you. I’m so, so sorry, [Name]. For everything.”
His words come rapidly and frankly, you don't want to hear Max like this. Max rarely apologizes. You're not used to hearing him apologize.
“Max—”
“I called, [Name].”
You freeze.
“I called so many times. Not once have you answered. Not once—” a loud sob erupts from his mouth, interrupting him. “You always come when I call.”
You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.
“I sent you a message,” he continues. “To wait for me. I know I’m selfish but can I have five minutes please? Just….five?”
A pause.
“Okay,” you whisper. Max’s body trembles against yours and you stand still for a few minutes,
“Hey,” you say gently, suddenly reminded that you're standing in an open space and Max is still in his Red Bull overalls and he doesn't even have his usual cap on and this compromising situation you're both in was going to be bad for Max’s online reputation once the wrong pair of eyes manage to catch sight of you. You can already imagine what the headlines would be.
MAX VERSTAPPEN AND HIS FORMER MANAGER CAUGHT HUGGING IN A GASOLINE STATION AFTER AUSTIN GP.
MAX VERSTAPPEN AND FORMER RED BULL MANAGER IN A RELATIONSHIP?
FORMER RED BULL MANAGER POTENTIAL REASON FOR BREAKUP BETWEEN KELLY PIQUET AND MAX VERSTAPPEN?
MAX VERSTAPPEN CHEATED ON KELLY PIQUET WITH FORMER MANAGER?
MAX VERSTAPPEN, FULL-TIME WORLD TIME CHAMPION, PART-TIME CHEATING ASSHOLE.
God. You can already imagine the headache splitting the entire PR team’s skulls. The world already hates Max because of how good he was at his sport. You can’t allow people to shit on him more because of you.
“Max,” you try again, tapping his forearm so he can loosen his hold on you and you can turn around. “Max, baby, cooperate with me for a bit, yeah?”
You tug on his wrist and you can't help but sigh in relief when his arms loosen a little. He’s beginning to choke you a little bit. With his arms still around you, you pivot on your heels so you’re face-to-face with his broad chest.
When you look up to Max’s face, your heart shatters into a million pieces. His tears continue to flow and violent sobs wrack his entire body, robbing him of the ability to speak and barely allowing a breath to be drawn. He’s going to hyperventilate. Fucking dammit.
“Max,” how many times have you said his name in the last few minutes? “Hey, breathe with me.”
Your hand cradles his jaw and your eyes focused on his blue ones and fuck, they’re as insanely beautiful as you remembered.
“Breathe.”
You perform exaggerated inhales and exhales so Max can match your breaths, his hands settling on your shoulders. His palms feel heavy against your shoulders and his fingers dig deep into your skin.
“I’m here, Champ. I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m here now.”
You wait until he calms down a little and when he does, your right hand searches for his, intertwining your fingers together to assure him that you’re not going anywhere just yet. Your other hand comes up to hold the area below his neck and you slowly guide him back to his car. It’s a little difficult, Max obviously has no intention to let you go, but you know how to make things work.
Max sits on the driver's seat with you standing outside of the car. He's still clinging onto your hand and you use the other hand to hold the roof of the car for support. Max stopped crying now, staring blankly at you with a sad pout on his face. His tears are now dry, staining his cheeks.
“You okay now, Champ?” you ask, never failing to sound gentle. That's what Max needs now. Gentleness. God forbid you pull a Jos Verstappen.
Max shakes his hand, making you sigh deeply. Your eyes trail to the hands, the pale skin now an angry red.
“Max,” you call his attention. He looks up at you and you have to avoid his gaze because if you look at his face, your heart hurts. “I’ll get something from the mini-mart for your burn, aight?”
He shakes his head and his grip on your hand impossibly tightens. If he keeps this up, he’s going to break your bones.
“No.”
If you were the same person that you were in 2023, you would have let Max do what he wanted. What Max wanted, what Max shall get—that’s the philosophy you lived by. But things are different now. Leo told you that you’re allowing Max to take too much from you and Max needs to learn to actually listen to you.
You’ve been taught to treat even the most minor of burns as if it’s a major burn. That's what you are planning to do right now.
“Max,” you say, a little firmer now. “Gonna grab somethin’ in the mart real quick, you stay here, aight?”
“No—”
“Not askin’, Champ,” you interrupt him. “I'm not leavin’ yet, not goin’ anywhere until I make sure you’re okay. So stay here and wait.”
You swiftly remove the key attached to your belt and force it into his palm, “Here are my keys. I’m not goin’ to drive off and leave you here, aight? Do you trust me?”
You have a feeling that this anxiety of his might have stemmed from that one incident in his childhood where Jos left him at a gas station. Fucking son of a bitch that man was.
Hesitantly, Max says, “I do.”
“Good,” you ruffle his hair, dampening your palm.
You can see he does not like what you're doing now but he does not have any choice so he sits in the car, looking as pitiful as ever. You jog up to the mini-mart, immediately going to the beverage section to grab a bottle of water and passing by the hygiene shelf to snatch a handkerchief. You go to the counter and the middle aged guy manning the register obviously does not look impressed that you’re in his shop for the third time in the same hour, which is stupid because he should be glad that he has a customer. You put everything on the counter, pulling out some bills from your back pocket.
“You happen to have neosporin?” you ask.
“Do we look like a drug store?” he retorts. You roll your eyes, toss the bills to the cashier, and grab your items without even waiting for the guy to wrap them all up in a paper bag. You jog back to Max’s car.
“Excuse me,” you lean inside the car, opening the compartment to search for a burn cream you left inside there last year. Your eyes land on his keys, stiffening when you notice that Max kept every single gift you gave him. The bead keychain from 2020, the bottle opener keychain from 2021, the clay figure keychain from 2022, and the bracelet from 2023 sway slightly, staring back at you. You shake your head and resume doing your original mission. You find the burn cream and you immediately search for the expiration date. January 2025; it’s still good to use.
You straighten, take hold of Max’s wrist gently, and roll up his long sleeves up to his elbows. You open the water bottle and tug Max’s hand towards you so he won't get water on his car as you pour water on his burn. Once the bottle is nearly empty, you apply the cream on the reddened area of his skin. Then, you use the handkerchief, which you dampen using the leftover water, to dress it.
Max is silent the entire ordeal, watching you work your way meticulously and carefully around his hand. The same meticulousness one can expect from a former firefighter paramedic volunteer.
You step back to inspect your work, but Max’s hand stretches out towards you, grabbing the hem of your jacket.
“Sorry,” he says and yet you see his knuckles slowly turning white, which makes you unsure if he truly is apologetic or not. “Just…yeah, sorry. Can you stay for a while please?”
“Have to leave soon,” you say. “El Paso’s still hours away. I have to be there by morning.”
He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, “Okay.”
“Thirty minutes, Max,” you decide. “Thirty minutes.”
You pull out your phone from your pocket to check the time and see the multiple notification bars. You type the password and direct to the message app to see the flurry of messages Max sent earlier. You have not noticed them.
max: i heard you came
max: where are you
max: please
max: can you give me ten minutes
max: just
max: please
max: wait for me
max: i’m not angry anymore
max: im begging you
max: or five minutes [name] im okay with just five
max: or even less
max: i just need to see you
“Who told you I was here?” you question, brows knitting together. There are currently two names in your head. They both start with the letter L and they both work at Williams.
“Leo called me and told me you were here.”
“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes. Logan will never dare betray you like this. You made Leo promise not to tell Max where you were in El Paso and the bitch told him where you were the moment you stepped out of El Paso. He didn't break his promise technically, but it's still a very bitch move for him to pull. You're going to have a lengthy conversation with him later.
“So you’ve been in El Paso?” he asks.
You nod.
“My grandparents’ place.”
He nods.
“Sorry about Julio, by the way.”
You sigh. God, you want to cry.
It's truly unfair how God decided to take away Julio [Last Name]. Death should happen to assholes and shitty people. To people who abuse their children every day. To people who waste years of their lifespan on nicotine and alcohol. To people who kill people. Death shouldn't happen to heroes, who risk every single day of their lives to save other people. Death shouldn't happen to Julio [Last Name], a firefighter who died saving a kid in a burning building. At least, not this early. Not until you fulfilled his dream for him.
(His last words: I don't regret doing what I did. I have kids, too. I want someone to save them the same way I did that kid if they ever get stuck in a situation like this.)
“Did Leo tell you that, too?” you hope that he didn't notice that your voice slightly wobbled.
“No,” Max shakes his head. “We—Logan and I came to Vista Del Pueblo in December. Your neighbor told us that…”
He doesn't need to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s trying to say.
You nod, “So that's why there was an article that day…”
You remember Damiano showing you the news article in his phone—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN. You shrugged it off at that time.
“How are you?”
You turn to Max, raising a brow at his question.
“How am I?” you echo, sounding a little bewildered.
You see, Max has never asked this question. You're used to “Are you okay?” but not this. Not this question. You can easily lie to an are-you-okay. You can say yes even if you’re not, and you won't give yourself away because you only uttered one word. But with how-are-you, it’s different. It's not a question that is not answerable by yes or no. You actually have to explain how you feel. That's why Papa Julio only asked, “How are you, mija?” rather than “Are you okay, mija?” Papa Julio wants to know how your day went even if you're okay or not.
Yeah. You're definitely going to cry at this rate.
“How have you been after Julio?”
“You really wanna know?”
“I wanted to be there for you at that time,” Max confesses. “When I learned that Julio was gone, I wanted to go to you. But Leo stopped me. He said I was not what you needed at that time and I agree. I was too angry at you for leaving me. I’m glad he didn't tell me where you are, despite how painful it was. I was selfish and immature that I cared about my grief and forgot to consider yours. I reflected on my actions a lot. I am not sure how different I am now from that version of me but I think I changed a bit. So yes, [Name], I want to know, because I want to know how you felt and help you in any way I can.”
You stand there, stunned at what Max has said. And perhaps it was his sincerity or the way his determined blue eyes stare into your soul that caused the sixth domino to tip. You break into tears, a raw cry escaping your mouth. You are so fucking tired of carrying everything on your shoulders.
Max is quick to engulf you in a hug and you don't hesitate to pull him into you, pressing your face against his shoulders as you let everything out. You claw his back as if you're trying to mold himself into you. Your nose turns red, snot drips out of your nose. You sob too loud and too heavily that you can hardly draw a breath. You don't cry pretty and this is the first time you allowed yourself to cry with another person bearing witness to your fragility.
When you calmed down, you found yourself sitting beside Max, shoulder to shoulder, in the backseat of his car, playing with the drawstrings of your jacket.
“Sorry.”
“Don't be.”
“Sorry, I was just so tired,” you tip your head upwards. You can feel Max’s eyes on you. “Things have been hard since Papa died.”
“Do you want to talk? I’ll listen.”
You chuckle humorlessly.
Jesus, what did Leo feed this guy?
It feels like the roles are reversed now.
“Everybody's been takin’ it pretty hard so I'm trynna to be strong for them, you know? But I’m not that strong,” you begin. “I’m just as lost as everyone else and it's hard pretendin’ like I’m not. I’m not really sure what will happen with my life now so I wander around and do car repairs for a few folks in El Paso.”
“What happened to your dream? The job?”
“Well, it's gone,” you say, making Max’s eyes widen. “Not my time yet, I suppose. Or rather, I’m never supposed to have time. I guess I’m just not meant to be an engineer.”
“No,” Max turns to you, clasping your hands in desperation. “No, no, no. You always wanted to become an engineer. You can't just—I’ll think of something. I’ll ask Christian. I’ll ask the other teams. Renault isn't in Formula One right now but I can—”
“Max,” you smile sadly. “Let it go.”
“But—”
“Do you know what my Papa’s dream was?” you interrupt. “It’s to be a Formula One racer.”
You smile, remembering all the times you’ve seen your father watch the races on the television since you were younger. He’d wake up even in the ass crack of dawn just to watch them live. He’d be so tired after a 24-hour shift at the fire station but he’d refuse to even catch a wink of sleep until the Grand Prix broadcast is done. He always received a beating from your Mama because of it.
“He saw Senna in the newspaper and decided that he wanted to be like him, too. Sadly, Papa never vibed with a steering wheel so there was no future in that industry. He's always so disappointed in himself, sayin’ he can do the most unhinge shit at work but can't even drive a car. When Damiano and I turned five, he brought us karting. I could tell he was disappointed that Damiano didn't share his love for racing and I hated seein’ him sad so I learned to love karting. He signed me up and I did my best to win. I think I was good. Good enough to make him proud of me. Papa looked so happy when I won my first trophy. He cleaned it every week.”
You smile fondly at the memory.
“Then, shit happened and I have to stop. Papa looked even more disappointed than me that I had to stop. It hurts. Disappointment from your parents, I mean, even if I know that it's somethin’ beyond my control. I figured that if I can't be a racer, I’ll work in a pit stop. That's close enough. When I told him that I got accepted into USC and how I wanted to be an engineer, it was the proudest I have ever seen him since I won my trophy. I was livin’ his dream. I applied for Red Bull and Renault because those are Papa’s favorite teams and the rest is history.”
You pause.
“He’s never got to see me become an engineer,” you choke out, wiping the stray tear that fell from your eye with the back of your hand. “It was his dream. He always had his dreams broken and I was gonna reach his dreams for him but he’s gone before I can do so. Now, I’m so lost because I realized that I was shapin’ myself to become an extension of Papa and now that he's gone, I am an extension of no one. I was reaching for dreams that I don't own. I’m so tired and I’m so lost, Max.”
Max stares at you sadly.
“I should have talked to Christian sooner. Fuck, I hate myself for not talking to Christian. Fuck, why was I so selfish?” he presses the ball of his palms against his eyes in frustration. You chuckle, shaking your head.
“That’s okay,” you say. “I’ll find my way.”
You look at the scenery outside of the window. Night has fallen. You should have left for El Paso by now.
“I need to go,” you say, heart heavy.
“So soon?”
Max is panicking again.
“Jesus, Champ, calm down,” you pat his shoulders.
“Will I see you again?” Desperation laces his question.
“Dunno really,” you shrug.
“Can you wait for me?”
Your brows furrow.
“I’ll retire by 2028. No, that's still long. 2027. Ah no—2026? Can you wait for me? I—” Max’s hand trembles. “I love you. I love you, [Name]. I—I love you even before Kelly. I can’t. I can't lose you.”
The world stops.
“I am stupid, I am selfish, and I think I’m asking too much. If you can just wait for me, I’ll—I can even retire next year if you think it's too long—”
“Hold up right there, Champ,” you stop him. “You're not retirin’ early.”
“If you want me to, I will.”
You sigh in exasperation.
“Max,” your voice is low. “That’s your career. I’m not gonna—Jesus, Max don’t retire, okay? Not even for me. Retire only when you want to.”
This man is just…
You don't know if you want to choke him or kiss him.
“I want you to have me, [Name]. I… I want to be with you, to love you, and if retiring is the only way I can do that then I will,” he says. “I love you.”
You purse your lips.
“I love you, too, Max,” you confess and now, your chest feels lighter now that you've said it out loud. “But not now, I can't love you like this. I’m too… I can't pursue a relationship with you right now. Not when…”
“It's not our time,” Max nods. “I understand.”
He really did change.
“I want to find my way through life first," you tell him.
Max smiles and he pulls you again in a hug. He has tears in his eyes again and he sniffles, chuckling at himself for crying again. He pulls away from the hug slowly and hands you your keys.
“See you around?"
“See you around.”
You exit the car and you notice that your heart feels lighter now compared to the time you left Monaco even though you are doing the same exact thing—leaving Max to go home.
At the end of 2023, you grace the paddock with your presence—your signature YSL heels is back on the tracks. You wear pants now, instead of the corporate pencil skirts, matched with a Prema Racing polo shirt. The label at the back indicates: AERODYNAMIC ENGINEER. By the end of 2024, you are promoted to the strategy team. By 2025, you become a race engineer of an up-and-coming racing superstar and you kept the job position until now.
The world didn't end just because your Dad died. It took you a while to realize that your Papa didn't own your dreams. It was always yours to begin with. He just played a part in inspiring them.
Max Verstappen became the 2024, 2025, 2026, 2027, and 2028 WDC, marking history as an eight-time consecutive champion. He retired after the 2028 season and disappeared from the face of the Earth. He had stopped going home to his penthouse in Monaco, had put his private jet on sale, and had cut ties to his father, Jos, who was very disappointed that his son had retired too early in the sport. Max retired willingly—he had achieved more awards than most of his seniors and it's time to give room to the younger ones. Rumors say that he had established a racing program somewhere in Belgium. Charles Leclerc, Max's friend, refuses to update the media regarding Max's whereabouts and only says: "He's happy. Don't worry."
Years later, a thirteen-almost-fourteen year-old girl named Emiliana Julia Verstappen, racing under the American flag, become the youngest driver in history to join the ranks of the F1 academy and later, she becomes the youngest driver to ever drive a Formula One car, racing for Scuderia Ferrari as second driver, at only seventeen and a hundred and fifty days old, overthrowing Max Emilian Verstappen, retired eight-time F1 WDC, whom the world has not seen since his retirement, from the list.
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todayontumblr · 1 year
Text
Wednesday April 19.
today, nearly 2,000 years ago, someone in pompeii baked bread.
Ahh, picture it. The time, around 2,000 years ago—the place, Pompeii. Simpler, happier times in some ways; and for the ruthless power games, insatiable sexual appetites, wild ambition, and creative genius, less so in others. However, following yesterday's foray into pastries, and all things fluffy, warm, and flakey, it dawned on us that this day around 2,000 years ago a happy chappy somewhere in the city's magnificent walls got to work and made some bread. CIL vol. IV 8972: XIII K. Maias panem feci—which translates as: On April 19th I made bread. And we love that for you, even millennia later! So, one day after our sweet celebration, it's time to pay homage to pastries' savory counterparts by marking April 19 with #bread. And a happy 2,000th anniversary to whichever miscellaneous Pompeian who decided not simply to make bread, but to mark the occasion with graffiti. But how do we know this? Well, it is thanks to the enquiring minds as evident in this post from @todayiwrotenothing, and indeed this commemoration on Reddit. Every day is a school day over here on The Internet.
Today it comes in countless forms, shapes, and sizes: wholewheat, rye, sourdough, multigrain bread, baguette, ciabatta, pumpernickel, soda, focaccia, cornbread, bagel, flatbread, naan, brioche, challah, and, last but by no means least, the ever-trusty white bread. As you will shortly see in the following string of bready content, this is simple yet limitless food: it can be braided, made by illustrated cats, or indeed constructed in the shape of the dashboard's beloved, hapless vessel, the good ship Ever Given.
So here's to you, as-yet-unnamed Pompeian who not only makes the bread, but brags about it too. We think you would have enjoyed this one-day tribute to your escapades here with #bread. We shall submit a formal application to rename it Tumbread, in your honor. But that's still not all: rumor has it there is sister graffiti that reads "Olivia condita XVII Kalendas Novembres"—so come back on November 16th for preserved olives.
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selineram3421 · 18 days
Text
*sleepy*
Courting Pursuit
Part 2
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Part 1
Alastor X Deer Reader
Warnings ⚠
⚠ gender neutral (gn) reader, mule deer reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, Spanish translated, stalking-Vox, cussing, implied/suggestive, italics=thoughts, ha..watch out for the end ⚠
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You continued to act affectionate towards him.
Even the others noticed and most of them would often ask you to do their work if it was related to him.
Niffty doesn't care and does her work as usual.
The thing is, you don't mind one bit and take up the work.
"Hola Alastor.", you'd greet him every time.
Today you were helping someone else, Husk to be exact, putting away some bottles in storage.
And then he heard that obnoxious voice of the sad excuse of an entertainment performer through his radio next to the television shop, Vox.
"Top of the hour! Today I have a special little treat for you, though the image is sadly glitched out, you can still see what is going on in the photo.", he says. "It's the Radio Demon, receiving an affectionate peck on the forehead from another deer!"
What a creeper. Alastor rolled his eyes and waited for the perfect moment to jump in and make the flat headed piece of tech look like a complete fool.
"From the looks of things, Alastor has a fuck buddy.", the TV demon grinned. "Wouldn't be surprised if he was taking it from behind.", he laughed and continued to rant on about innuendos like an idiot.
Turning a few knobs and flipping some switches, the Radio Demon was live.
"Salutations!", he greeted his listeners. "What an interesting start to the day! An overly cocky man acting like a news anchor when he doesn't have all the facts!", his smile widens. "For a demon asking his viewers to trust him, it's quite bold that he so blatantly lies to their faces."
"That's bullshit! I only provide the best-"
"Vox is so insecure and craving for attention from a powerful Overlord like myself, it's obvious that he's jealous.", Alastor laughed.
"Am fucking not you old timey prick-!"
"Why would he make such an announcement if not for that? Its clear to me that he wants someone to focus on him all the time.", he chuckles. "No wonder he always something new on his screens. But they lack so much that he has to resort to childish news broadcasts to seem important."
"Childish!?"
"As for the demon in the photo, that is a hotel guest and they do not understand English that much. There was a misunderstanding in translation and well..I'm not allowed to kill hotel guests.", then his voice switches. "This does not mean that I will let such an action pass, I will do something mμc# ₩θrs€ than death."
"You lying piece of shit! Tell me them the truth!"
"I should announce that the Hazbin Hotel has its doors open for all sinners who want a shot at redemption! Try to climb your way out of this fiery inferno, some might try to drag you back down, or you'll have trouble all on your own trying to redeem yourself! Anything is possible!", he put in his two bits for advertising the hotel. "And with that my wonderful listeners, I shall bid you all adieu~"
He switched on some jazz, not wanting to hear anymore of Vox's whining.
Something still irked him however..
Perhaps I should pay Rosie another visit. He thought. This time without them knowing.
As soon as he walked through the door of the emporium, his friend waved him over and pointed to her office, letting him know that she'd be there soon.
Once entering the office, he sighed and sat on the couch, already tired of what else would happen later in the day. He didn't want any other unnecessary conversations.
Rosie entered the office not too long after, setting her hat aside as she closed the door.
"You won't believe the gossip I've stumbled across today. Betty, the one with the pooch, not the one with the scar. She-", the woman started but then took notice of his mood. "What's wrong? You look worn out already."
"I don't know what to do with them. Vox, that piece of shit tech, has already made comments but I already put him in his place.", he sighed and ran a hand down his face.
"I heard.", Rosie let out a short laugh.
"The deer is still doing things, not as bold as the first time but I don't want them near me. It's-", he growled and made a choking motion with his hands.
"If it's bothering you that much, you know you can tell them to stop.", she says.
He looks up at her with a wide eyed stare.
She dead pans.
"Alastor. You know you can tell them to stop. Right?"
"The thought hadn't crossed my mind.", he simply says.
"Oh for crying out loud-!", she tosses a pillow at him. "You are unbelievable! Go and speak your mind! You've never had a problem with it before!"
She was right. Why had he been so bothered about something like this?
He should have spoken up about it from the start.
It was late when he returned to the hotel. The lobby was empty and he could only assume that everyone had long been asleep. Walking to the dining room, he spots the kitchen light on.
Angel is probably making an abomination of a hangover cure- He thought and opened the door, only to find the mule deer leaning against the counter half asleep.
You perk up when noticing him.
"Bienvenido. Hice la cena y te guardé un plato.", you wave and smile. (Welcome back. I made dinner and saved you a plate.)
"What are you doing up at this hour? Granted, it is Hell and there are barely any rules around here, sleep is still important.", he says as you pick up a plate covered with tin foil.
Taking off the foil, you give him a plate of food.
Your fingers brush against his, making him flinch back and drop the plate, causing it to shatter on the floor with a loud crash.
Instead of focusing on the mess, you looked at him with worry.
"¿Estás bien? No estás herido, ¿verdad-?", you reach out to him but he smacks your hand away. (Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you-?)
"Don't touch me.", he hisses out. "I am not comfortable with your advances, so I advise you to stop NOW before I tear you apart and make you into tomorrow's dinner."
With that you took a step back.
"No quería incomodarte. Me detendré. Perdóname por no tener en cuenta tus sentimientos.", you muttered and looked away. (I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I will stop. Forgive me for not taking your feelings into account.)
Alastor didn't bother trying to translate your response in his head, just walking around you and to the door.
"Lo siento.." (I'm sorry..)
He heard you whisper as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone.
With a sigh, you kneeled down and began to clean the mess.
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Sad times means cookies.
~Seline, the person.
Part 3
Taglist@
@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @sleep-7372 @wat4r @lustylita @xdolls-crownx @lonelysimp18 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @dap11 @al1fers-haven @futureittomainn @random-3455 @+?
ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌
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ghostbsuter · 6 months
Text
John Constantine was in prison.
No, not a normal, mortal prison. Those wouldn't be able to hold him like this one does.
No, he's imprisoned in the Infinity Realm.
The warden of the establishment is Walker, someone whose blood sings Witch Hunter.
If that wasn't bad enough, with every second, it gets worse. Angels decided to interfere in a realm not in possession of their God.
Who's idea was it to go against the Infintiy Realm? Are they nuts?
"John Constantine," One of the messangers steps forward. There is no weapon in sight, yet.
"Under the scrutiny of Heaven, we were sent to retrieve you for a trial." Their voice clipped, blond hair shimmering a soft green and John is sweating buckets.
"Your deals with various demon folk and such shall be judged unter gods court and���"
A loud bang echoes through the hall, Walker's men are surrounding the beings of heaven and particular brave soul steps forward.
The lad is young, can't be older than Bat's Robin. He walks with an air of authority, white hair floating against gravity's rules and towering before the flock of messangers.
"How dare—"
The boy, the godling– growls.
He blocks their view of Constantine, staring them down.
Some of the angels fall back, wings arched and ready for a fight, weapons still not in sight however.
"I am Phantom, King of God's of the Infinity Realm." The child with a title too much for such small shoulders bear, introduces himself.
It sends the flock into mild panic. Constantine is just a bit satisfied at the change.
"Returns to your god and tell him this, every Constantine bearing the title Laughing Magician is under my protection."
For such a small stature, his voice is booming, the command thinly veiled as a threat and icicles forming around him.
"Tell him that if he ever dares to breach my territory once more, I will not hesitate to call war upon heaven."
The main angel of the flock, the one that had read out Constantines sentence, hesitated only for a moment before urging the others to leave.
Posture stiff and movements jerky.
They didn't expect to be told off like this, John muses.
He only slightly dreads when phantoms attention drifts to him finally, a light knock on the metal bars and the whole wall was gone.
"Follow me, John Constantine."
And John does.
He'll sweet talk himself out of this on the way to his doom. Like always.
("Unpopular belief, but I actually quite like you." Danny had stated once in the garden, sitting on a table and drinking tea. John hadn't touched his cup nor desert at all, cannot trust those of the infinite after all.)
(A rip into the green before them had created a portal, a gateway.
"Leave, Laughing Magician. Hold onto that necklace, it will ward off anyone with the intent to harm and deals as a warning to those working for the immortal."
And as John steps forward, his eyes meet toxic green.
"We will see one another again, sooner or later. Farewell, Jester."
The portal spat him out in his apartment in New York, if it wasn't for the protection charm, Constantine would have believed it to be a mere dream. A warning.)
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