#alexander tings

[deartrent]

untold feelings — taa (pt. 1)

summary: you find yourself in a web of secrecy, long-suppressed desires and untold feelings within the buildings of liverpool fc, and it's bound to become a sticky situation

warnings: contains smut (18+, mdni)

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader

notes: this is my first time writing smut and posting it, so i'm sorry if it's ass 😭 i'm thinking of adding more parts to this bc ive got some ideas cooking, but let me know what you guys think of this part first!

when you started your new job at liverpool fc as a player care officer, you had no idea what awaited you. all you knew was that you'd be in touch with the players most of the time; your main task literally being their first-line support for every- and anything they wanted and needed.

what you didn't expect though, was getting attached to one particular footballer. he was a man of little words, an introverted, closed off, at first seemingly "asshole"—though that presumption disappeared as you spoke to the guy more often. he was mysterious, a characteristic that ignited your interest in him in the first place. he wasn't your usual outgoing, witless and self-centered footballer, no, instead he kept to himself and only gave well-thought out answers. you tried your best to keep each interaction professional, especially when the news broke out of his new vice captain role, you vowed to not get involved with him, not wanting to be the reason that would put his new role in jeopardy.

you struggled though. the tension was there. you could feel it, he could feel it. if anyone else was in the room, they could feel it too. his eyes would bore into you as you typed away on your computer, logging the information he would give you, his eyes clearly attempting to get a message across. he had no shame in checking you out, scanning every part of your body, before his eyes would meet yours again, a mischievous smirk on his face as he sank further into his chair comfortably, his arms lazily draped along the armrests, his legs spread out.

after a few more appointments and conversations, you noticed him coming out of his shell more. there was no denying that the dynamic between you guys shifted, from a strictly professional one, to a more easygoing and flirty one. when you'd pass each other in the hallways, trent would flash you a cheeky smile, accompanied by a quick wink he made sure only you could see. if the coast was clear, he'd quickly poke your side as he passed, causing you to burst out in giggles. he'd always make sure to pass by your office as well, before heading to training, making sure to wish you a good morning or even bringing you a coffee if time allowed him to.

you enjoyed the secretive thing you had going on with trent, adding a tinge of excitement to your days.

the annual club dinner was the first time you and trent would see each other outside of a professional setting. his eyes never left you that night, observing your every move while simultaneously networking with the people around him, waiting for a moment to catch you alone.

"took you long enough," you joked as you watched him approach you, while you stood at the bar, waiting for your next drink. "were you waiting for me then?" his crossed arms rested on the bar, as he faced forward, allowing you to admire his side profile, "maybe," you shrugged, thanking the barman, before turning to trent once again. though he wasn't very tall, he still towered a little over you, that same cheeky smirk never leaving his face. the tension was unbearable and you knew he felt it too, the presence of his teammates and your colleagues being the only thing stopping you from sharing little touches.

"enjoying yourself?" you asked, looking away from his face as you started feeling nervous under his gaze, "yeah, very much," he let out a chuckle, knowing you were referring to him checking you out, "i'd enjoy it more if i could touch though," trent mumbled, his eyes scanning over the place, the same way yours did.

you were caught by surprise. he'd never verbally expressed what his eyes were insinuating. you never expected him to be so blunt, showing a different side to him than you were used to, "i'm afraid you're just gonna have to stick to looking for now," you tried to play off the feeling that was forming in the pit of your stomach. you wanted to feel his touch just as much as he wanted to touch you, your mind wandering off to the mental images of his body that you'd collected over the past few weeks while observing him in training from the window in your office. "watch out, you might start drooling in a minute," trent joked, amused with his own joke, while you hit his arm with the back of your hand.

you spent the rest of the night flirting back and forth with trent, either through eye contact or subtle touches as you'd pass each other. the night slowly came to an end and trent made sure to check up on you one more time.

"do you want me to drive you home?" trent asked, a hint of hope in his eyes that you'd say yes. you looked around for a second, "i already had a ride, but i don't mind going with you," although your facial expression would never give it away, you felt more nervous with each second passing, the realisation settling in that soon you'd be completely alone with trent.

while trent drove you home, the tension that had built up over the past few weeks only rose. one thing led to another and before you knew it, trent was reclined in the driver's seat, while you had both legs on each side of him. you'd been waiting for this exact moment, to feel his voluptuous and soft lips on yours, savouring every second you spent tasting his mouth. your lips wrapped around his bottom lip, tugging a little as trent's eyes shot closed, his large hands carefully placed on your hips, squeezing them ever so softly. beneath you, you could feel trent grow. seeing him melt under your touch drove you insane, the combination of his shut eyes, parted lips and hushed moans making you feel something you had never felt before.

trent's hands found their way around your back, unzipping the dress you picked with him in mind, as he slowly shed you of your clothing. his fingers eagerly unclasped your bra and as your eyes locked for a split second, you noticed just how hungry he was for you. your dress sat bunched up around your waist, your panties exposed, while your bra was lost somewhere in the car. trent's fingers played with your nipples, an unfamiliar sensation shooting through your body, only trent's touch having that effect on you, "trent," you tried to mumble, his lips never leaving yours, as though he was making up for the past few weeks of depriving him of your touch.

trent's hands roamed around your body, grabbing a handful of your ass, as you leaked more fluid all over your panties. you needed to feel him and you needed to make it clear to him, so as you finally let go of his lips, you cupped his face with your hands, holding him close as you whispered against his swollen lips, "i need you to fuck me like you've never fucked anyone before," those words leaving your mouth made trent go feral, unbuckling and pulling his pants down with one swift motion, the only barrier between your skin and his being your panties and his boxers. your hands wrapped around the elastic band, pulling the boxers down as his cock sprung free, resting against his stomach.

"fuck," you whispered against his lips, your pussy throbbing, yearning to be filled up. trent wasted no time, holding your panties to the side with one hand, while the other slid against your folds, spreading the moisture across his fingers before pumping his cock in his hands a few times. trent lined himself up with your entrance, the moment you both had silently been waiting for finally here. your hands rested on his broad shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. picking up your pace, trent was losing his mind and you could tell. his head fell back against the headrest, his hands firmly on your hips, guiding you through your movements. "fucking hell," he cursed, burying his cock deep inside, hitting a spot you didn't even know was possible, your moans getting louder.

you knew he was close from how sloppy each thrust had become, his breathing getting deeper and quicker. you lifted yourself off of him without a warning, his eyes lazily following your every move, high off of the ride you just gave him. you moved back to the passenger's seat, sitting on your knees as you wrapped both hands around his cock, leaving a trail of spit on his tip as you moved up and down as fast as you could, driving him to his climax. cum leaked all over your fingers, while trent cursed under his breath. your mind clouded by feelings of lust and desire, you brought your fingers up to your lips, licking them off as though you'd just finished a meal. trent chuckled as he crashed down from his high, his thumb caressing your cheek, "won't lie, i didn't expect all that from you, ms. wanna keep things professional," he joked, your cheeks heating up at his remark.

the night continued for a while, you'd moved to the backseat, lying on your back as trent supported himself on top of you. with your legs up, resting on trent's shoulders, he slammed into you, your cries being heard from outside the car. "fuc-" you choked on your moans, trent's name leaving your lips, warning him that you were close. trent watched your eyes roll back, his thumb circling between your folds, stimulating your clit, while his thrusts became deeper and slower, "fuck, fuck, fuck," your legs trembled, your body shuddering against trent as you held onto his muscular arms, as he unloaded another load inside of you.

the car felt hot by the end, your sweaty body on top of trent's as you laid your head on his shoulder, one of your hands resting on his exposed chest. the silence cleared your mind enough to think about what had just happened. you had no idea how you went from fighting to get a word out of trent to lying on top of him naked, vulnerable and fucked out in his car, parked in front of your place. if you had any energy left in you, you'd be stressing about how you were supposed to go back to work and pretend like nothing had happened—at least that's what you were planning on doing.

you knew you crossed a line you shouldn't have, you felt regret as you looked up at trent whose eyes were shut, his breathing steady and calm. you wondered what was going through his mind, if he was thinking the same as you, and if the weight of concealing the intimacy between you both laid as heavily on his heart as it did on yours.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold x you #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold smut #trent alexander arnold one shot #trent alexander arnold fic #football blurb #football one shot #football smut #trent alexander arnold imagines #football x reader #football x you #football imagines #taa imagines #taa blurb #taa #taa one shot #taa x reader #taa x you

[five-and-dimes]

Thinking more about Dream not telling Hob why he missed the 1989 meeting, and while I love the humor and absurdity of Dream just being terrible at communicating, I can’t help but also think about the angst in how Dream views the whole situation.

We know that Dream blames himself for what happened, holds himself responsible for being captured and the decay of his realm in his absence, considers the whole thing a failure on his part. 

I can imagine Dream not telling Hob where he was because he truly believes it is irrelevant. It was his fault he missed their appointment and that’s all that matters. The details are superfluous, would just sound like he was making excuses for his own mistakes. He’s trying to grow, it would not do to place the blame of the past century on anyone but himself and his own weakness. It was not Roderick Burgess who hurt Hob Gadling.

And at first, Hob is a little frustrated. Happy to see the stranger, obviously, but still carrying a tinge of hurt at having been stood up over something so innocuous. 

But the meeting continues and he can’t not notice all the red flags. His stranger is so different, and not in a bad way, necessarily, but in a way that speaks to something having happened. And he’s more open, giving Hob the answers he’s wanted for so long (his name is Dream) and yet when it comes to their missed meeting it’s impossible to get a straight answer out of him. He says please forgive me, says my failure kept me from you, but he won’t tell him where he was. 

I don’t think anything would come to light that first meeting, or even the first few after that, but I think Hob becomes more and more aware that Dream isn’t telling him everything- not because of pride, but because of something painfully close to shame. 

And I don’t know how it ends. I don’t know what finally tips Hob over the edge into pushing Dream to tell him the full story, into finally getting Dream to explain the past century, full of rage and pain towards Roderick and Alexander Burgess yet still interrupting himself several times to make sure Hob understands that it was Dream’s fault, he was weak, he was prideful, he understands, he’s not trying to shirk his responsibility-

But of course ultimately Hob embraces Dream with all his strength, and curses the Burgesses, and cries for his friend’s pain, and forgives him and resolves him and tries his very best to ease as much of Dream’s guilt as he can.

(Which isn’t much. But it’s a start.)

#ramblings #the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling #Dream hates Roderick Burgess but he hates himself more #one of the many pillars of my personal Dream characterization #no it doesn't say anything about me personally

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 41: Alexander's Mark

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June 1905

TW: mind control, body control, captivity, abuse, burns, mouth whump, aftermath of forced self-harm

The beach. He was imagining a beach.

A place filled with warmth and sunshine, sunshine that would protect him from vampires. A place of freedom, where the waves would crash against his knees and the salt air would blow through his hair. A place where the auction house and its monstrous inhabitants were a nightmare fit for a cheap horror novel.

Maybe if he managed to pass out, he'd wake up on the sand, the searing pain gone, his body returned to him.

Fitz's mind forced itself back into reality as his new master led him into a different room. He couldn't remember walking -- he couldn't remember anything after the hazy, muddled visions of a seal burning into his chest. The pain was causing his vision to blur and his mind to haze over, but he recognized Mr. Alexander and Miss Lily as they walked into the room. Miss Lily had her head buried in Mr. Alexander's shoulder, but both stood up and at attention when his master entered.

Miss Lily. Her punishment.

Her dress was somewhat askew, her hair falling out of place, and she'd obviously been crying, but there was otherwise no sign of the horrific thing her sire had ordered her to do. But he knew from her expression as she'd left the room that she'd actually done it. There was no question.

"Alexander. Lily." 

"Sire," said Mr. Alexander, bowing. Miss Lily said nothing, bowing and holding her mouth firmly shut.

"My knife, if you please, Lily."

Miss Lily stepped forward and gave the Maestro back the silver knife, clean as it was when he handed it to her. He took her by the chin and opened her jaw. Fitz found that he was mercifully able to shut his eyes to avoid looking. 

"Satisfactory," said his master, and Fitz would have shuddered at this if he was actually able to do so. He couldn't believe that Miss Lily could be so calm after cutting her own tongue out. It was impossible.

Yet he could feel the enforced stoic expression on his own face, even as internally he was writhing in pain. Was it any different?"

"Sire," said Mr. Alexander, his deep voice surprisingly shaky, "what have you done to -- to your thrall?"

"I have marked him as my own. Surely you remember."

Mr. Alexander's face showed that he did indeed remember.

"The thrall you so desired, child," said his master. "He is mine, now. My performer, my plaything, a vessel for my will."

Fitz could hardly tell through through his stupor, but Lord Alexander seemed sad, meeting Fitz's gaze with a silent apology, one tinged with longing.

Or maybe it was another dream like the beach, a lie his mind was telling in a desperate attempt at escape. The lie that any of these vampires would care. Not when they had this much power, not when they had no reason to treat him as anything more than a possession.

"I see that, Sire." Mr. Alexander's eyes traveled to the burn on Fitz's flesh.

"Your fondness for this untamed, insolent human is far too obvious. It's unbecoming for a vampire of your stature," said his master. "I have tolerated this folly for far too long. It's long past time it was burned out of you."

"Sire..."

"So I bring you a gift and a punishment in one. I will give this thrall to you, to do with as you see fit."

Fitz's chest tightened. Although he could hardly trust Lord Alexander, he'd much rather be with the vampire who joked amiably with him over the one who burned and slapped him, who effortlessly controlled his body's every move. 

Mr. Alexander had nothing but suspicion and fear on his face. "As I see fit, Sire?" 

"Yes. I will give you this thrall for a year. At the end of the year, I will evaluate his training. If the training is satisfactory, you may keep the thrall for good. If it is not... then I truly will have no choice but to take it upon myself to punish you both." His master laid one ice-cold hand upon Fitz's head. "But if you do not actually desire him, I'll take him and train him myself."

A trap. An obvious trap. Whatever Mr. Alexander had planned for Fitz, it was clearly never going to be up to this cruel vampire's impossible standards. Mr. Alexander's eyes showed that he knew very well what a raw deal this was.

Never-ending torture for Fitz now... or torture and punishment for them both in a year. Fitz knew which option he would take, given the choice. A lot could happen in one year, and every fiber of his being was screaming for him to get away from his new owner, even if it meant running into the arms of a different monster. But it was a terrible deal for Mr. Alexander. It wasn't possible that he wanted Fitz enough to risk it.

The pain of his burn intensified, causing his breathing to quicken and his vision to dim and fuzz. He struggled against the tunnel vision, trying not to pass out, even as his body stayed rigidly upright with his head bowed.

He was never getting out. He would be trapped in this unbearable hell, not even able to protest, forever, and --

Mr. Alexander's eyes were burning into Fitz, even as he bowed. "Thank you, Sire. I accept your most gracious gift and your most fitting punishment."

Fitz felt himself tremble under the stiff pose he was being held in. The determination in Mr. Alexander's eyes was giving him hope, hope he didn't want to entertain lest it be pulled away from him. After all, if Mr. Alexander wanted to avoid eventual torture, wouldn't he have to be as cruel as his sire?

"Very well, child. You know the consequences of disappointing me," his owner said. "Now you shall mark the thrall directly underneath my mark, as proof of this contract."

Every muscle in Fitz's body tensed painfully as his owner handed over the small metal seal to Mr. Alexander, everything within him screaming for him to run, inwardly thrashing against the power keeping him still, to no avail. Rational thought flew from his mind, and all he knew was that he was going to be burned again. A few tears managed to leak from his eyes as his knees touched the carpet once more, his perfect posture giving no indication of the dizzy disorientation consuming him.

Mr. Alexander was heating the seal in a candle. Mr. Alexander was going to press it against his flesh. Mr. Alexander was --

-- singing.

The song penetrated through his terror, wrapping itself around his mind, and the pain and distress began to lessen. With no choice but to listen, no ability to resist, he felt as though he were floating up and away from his body, observing the scene as if it were happening on a stage. The pain on his chest and his cheek was washed in a soothing coolness, reducing it to a faraway ache.

Calm. Safe. No more pain. No more fear.

He was being placed under a spell again, he realized that, but a spell of bliss and comfort. Mr. Alexander was warming the seal in a candle as he sang. Fitz's mind warred within itself, one portion dreading the pain even as the other wanted to drown in the song and forget it all.

Mr. Alexander approached, lifting his chin and tilting Fitz's head into his gaze, the song shifting to something richer and deeper.

You are desired. You are wanted.

He felt it in his bones, the fleeting, breathtaking feeling of recognition and validation. The high he was always chasing, offered to him in its purest form. 

In a instant, Fitz fell completely under the spell, without any more fight.

"You're going to feel a small sting, Fitz, and then there will be no more pain," said Mr. Alexander, holding the metal seal and pulling down the neck of Fitz's dress. "You're doing so well."

You are precious. You belong to me.

He was utterly focused on Mr. Alexander's eyes and his heavenly voice. Nothing else mattered. He didn't even really feel the seal as it pressed into him this time, just below the first burn, too lost in euphoria to care.

"You eased his pain, Alexander," said the Maestro, disapproval dripping from his musical voice.

"There was no need for him to suffer, Sire," said Mr. Alexander with a note of dangerous defiance.

"Suffering is the only teacher we listen to. That is what you do not yet understand. In moments of desperation, when every gentle lesson has fled from our minds, the only teachings left are those ingrained upon us by the deepest suffering." He walked behind Mr. Alexander, stroking his cheek. "This is why you have not learned. Your suffering has not yet been great enough. It is most fortunate that I am a patient vampire. I can see your perfection underneath your shortcomings and unfortunate desires."

He slithered around to where Fitz was still kneeling, petting his hair, and Fitz would have shuddered if he weren't still so entranced. "You and Fitzwilliam are very much alike. I can sense that your fates are bound together, like entwined trees or twin stars. You two will be my magnum opus, my masterpiece."

"...Yes, Sire."

"I'll take my leave now. I must return to my manor before the sun rises, and my coachman waits. Good night, Alexander."

"Good night, Sire."

And the mysterious vampire left the room in a flurry of chill air, and Fitz felt himself collapse to the floor as his limbs were suddenly freed. His head was still cloudy from Mr. Alexander's song, but...

He could move. Everything hurt and he was so exhausted but he could move. A part of him felt like he should try and flee the monsters that harmed him, but he was still dazed, too woozy to stand. He could imagine the ridiculousness of trying to escape from a mansion full of vampires while crawling across the carpet in a confused fog.

Besides, he belonged to Mr. Alexander now.

Fitz heard a choked, shuddering sob and realized that it was coming from him. It was followed by a mangled cry, high pitched -- not him. A glance around his shoulder showed that Miss Lily had collapsed to the floor, blood running from her mouth, curled up in agony.

"Fitz. Fitz, I'm here. Are you all right?"

His focus flew back to Mr. Alexander like a moth to the light. "No, sir, obviously not, sir," he said with a pained laugh.

"I know, I know, an unnecessary question to ask. It's over now. You won't be hurt any more, I promise. Just relax." Mr. Alexander began humming a low tune, and Fitz surrendered to it even as the back of his mind howled in alarm at having his autonomy stolen again. He was too tired, too defeated, and he allowed his breathing and thoughts to slow.

"Good, that's good," said Mr. Alexander. "You're safe for now. I'm going to help you, but I need to check on Lily first, okay?"

Fitz nodded weakly.

"Lil, can you stand?" said Mr. Alexander's voice from somewhere behind him. "You have a room here, right? Is Nellie here with you? If you can walk, I can get us all to your room. Nellie and I will attend to you there. Good, that's it. You can cling to me all you need. There you go. I'll get Fitz."

Fitz felt himself being picked up and carried. He was looking up at Alexander's face, clearly upset but still laced with determination. "I've got you, Fitz," he said. "You're going to be all right." 

He began to hum again, a soft and enchanting tune. Fitz wasn't sure what this new spell was doing until he felt his eyelids become suddenly so heavy. A lullaby, a sleeping spell. No, no, he didn't want this -- but a part of him did, a part of him wanted to fly far away from here in his sleep, to have a respite from pain and terror. His half-hearted protest was drowned in a yawn as drowsiness settled over him like a blanket, all of his thoughts bending to the deep, irresistible urge to go to sleep.

Fitz couldn't help but shut his drowsy, heavy eyes, just for a moment.

Just...

Prev > Masterlist > Next

Next week, wrapping up Fitz's nightmare. In the meantime, there will be an interlude of Fitz in happier times, from the point of view of his thrall, Roger. Thanks as always for reading and reblogging!

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree

#whump #whump writing #vampires #vampire whump #mind control #vampire whumper #branding #rare bookseller #fitz #maestro #alexander #lily

[nocoastposts]

Thanks for the tags @theprinceandagcd @sunnysideprince @onthewaytosomewhere @duchessdepolignaca03 and @wordsofhoneydew! I'm finally back to writing after a three-week break, and it feels pretty great. This snippet is from an impromptu WIP that's not my usual style, but I think I like it so far.

Brown eyes are the most common in the world, and Henry’s never felt one way or another about them. That is, until he locked gazes with one Alexander Claremont-Diaz on a humid day in Rio. 

His eyes are tinged with golden flecks, something precious shining bright with each lingering look. They are pools of dark chocolate, and Henry drowns in their sweetness. 

Common and average simply do not apply when it comes to Alex. This man is the most beautiful person Henry’s ever known, and he’s unlike any other, past, present or future. 

He thinks that perhaps Alex was made for him, that he’s been given the most unique gift the universe could offer.

Tagging @anincompletelist @firenati0n @lfg1986-2 @bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie @itsmaybitheway @saturntheday @piratefalls @kiwiana-writes @youtastelike-sunlight @priincebutt @ladyknightellen @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @bitbybitwrites @jamilas-pen @meraki-yao @captainjunglegym @anchoredarchangel @lizzie-bennetdarcy @ghostwithatophat and anyone who'd like an open tag! I think I'm forgetting a few people, please feel free to yell at me if you're one of them. 🙏

#six sentence sunday #seven sentence sunday #sentence sunday #sunday six #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fic #firstprince fanfiction #red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #prince henry of wales #henry fox #rwrb #nocoastposts fic #firstprince fanfic

[unformula1]

jealousy and regret (OP81 x LS2)

part 1 part 2: “eugh… alexander albon” oscar gets smacked in the face by his talk with logan and alex. w/c: 1576 day 28 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium (series masterlist) masterlist

“I’m sorry. Do you know where… Logan is?” Oscar quietly asks one of the engineers.

“Oscar?” 

Oscar hears the all-familiar voice and turns around.

He’s met face to face with the blonde-haired, blue-eyed American.

“Logan!”

And just like clockwork, here comes Alexander Albon. The British-Thai 2019 rookie who honestly, Oscar has nothing against, other than the fact that he pretty much stole Logan away from him.

Alex slides next to Logan, hand swung around Logan’s shoulder, leaning onto him.

“Morning Oscar.” Alex says.

Oscar purses his lips. 

Shit. Oscar shouldn’t be like this, he should be glad that Logan has someone to support him better. Oscar should be happy for Logan…

He pushes the thoughts to the back of his head and does his best to suppress them as Alex starts invading Logan’s personal space.

He grits his teeth, clenching his jaw. 

“What brings you here?” Logan says with that wide smile on his face. 

That makes Oscar feel slightly better, at least Logan still smiles at him.

“Uhm… you.” Oscar blurts out, clearly something didn’t go through a filter.

The silence in the room suddenly becomes louder, the awkwardness is tangible and the tension grows thicker.

Alex’s arm slides away from Logan’s shoulder, he’s still standing within Logan’s personal bubble though.

Logan clearly doesn’t read the room well.

“Oh… what’s up then!” He says, the excitement in his voice sharply contrasting the clear tensions building up right now.

“We should…” Oscar finally puts his words through a filter, “Talk. We should talk.” Oscar clears his throat as he finishes.

Obviously Oscar sounded awkward because Logan cocks up an eyebrow, which is something Logan does when he’s unsure of what’s happening. Oscar silently bets Alex doesn’t know that.

“I mean…” Logan chooses his words carefully, “Yea. Of course, I think so too. We really haven’t talked in a while.”

Oscar’s uneasiness fades off and he smiles, a small chuckle escapes too.

“We’ll get to talk later, sometime soon yea?” Logan thinks before saying.

Oscar nods, “Yep. Yep!” 

“Right, so see you then?” Logan says.

“Alright!” Oscar says, internally cheering.

It all disappears in an instant when Alex and Logan walk off, being unbearably close as usual. However, something ruins it all, Alex leans into Logan, whispering something into his ear and Logan chuckles loudly at it.

God Oscar absolutely hates it.

The delicate barrier between internal jealousy and external jealousy shatters.

He’s so gonna get Alex out of this story. He’s so gonna get Logan back. He’s so gonna become Logan’s number one again.

Who did Alex think he was?

A few (admittedly painful) hours pass and Oscar sits in his driver’s room. Suddenly Lando’s murder plan doesn’t seem too bad now.

Speak of the devil.

Lando swings open Oscar’s door.

“Osc. You’re acting strange.” Lando says.

Straightforward, as always.

“How so?” Oscar says, hiding his misery with a fake smile.

“Don’t try that on me.” Lando says as he walks into the room, slamming the door shut behind him, “Spill right now.”

“I already told you. Williams drivers. Me and Logan.” Oscar says, his voice with a tinge of annoyance.

“Yea well usually you don’t dwell on it for too long, and haven’t you already talked to Logan?” Lando shrugs.

“Yes but it’s not that simple, Lando.” Oscar says, eerily monotonously.

“So… there’s something more?” Lando inquires.

Oscar rolls his eyes. He’s gonna hate Lando for this.

“I hate how Alex is close to Logan.” Oscar admits.

“Woah.” Lando says, his hands raising up, “What?”

“Alex doesn’t deserve it.” Oscar, once again, feels the jealousy completely removing his filter.

“They’re teammates, they’re going to be close. Just like us!” Lando says.

“Yea well, he wasn’t there for Logan when Logan was crying on a hotel bed.” Oscar scoffs, “You know who was? Me.”

Lando’s taken aback. He processes Oscar’s words first before trying his best to phrase the next sentence nicely.

“That’s very pretentious of you.” Lando says.

And it’s like a slap in the face for Oscar, he finally realises what he just said. Shit. Then the past few hours of murder plotting hit him in the face as well. Double Shit. He’s really letting this jealousy take over him.

“Fuck.” Oscar whispers.

“What?” Lando asks, moving slightly closer to Oscar.

“I feel horrible. That was so horrible of me.” Oscar buries his face into his hands, “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. These past weeks, it’s just been jealousy, jealousy, jealousy.”

Lando nods a few times.

“Well…” Lando thinks, “You should talk to Logan about this. Maybe apologise for being possessive too.” 

It’s obvious Lando means it as a joke but Oscar feels like it’s a punch into the gut. He’s been insanely possessive. 

“But seriously, talk to Logan about this.” Lando shrugs.

“Okay.” Oscar says as he stands up, brushing past Lando and walking out the room.

“I didn’t mean now… but okay.” 

------

Oscar sees Logan filming Williams' media in the garage, right next to Alex. He suppresses the thoughts, constantly reminding himself that Alex deserves it.

They end shortly after and Oscar makes his way over to Logan. He, rather rudely, inserts himself into the picture, standing next to Logan.

“Hi Oscar.” Alex says, which prompts Logan to greet Oscar.

“Hey Osc.” Logan says.

“Can we talk… like right now.” Oscar says.

“I mean, sure, with Alex or…” Logan replies.

Oscar hesitates. Would that help?

“Okay.” Oscar says on instinct.

“Alright, cool.” Logan says and pats the seat next to him for Oscar to sit.

Oscar sits down, in between the two Williams drivers. He takes a deep breath before starting.

“Is this about Lando?” Alex jokes which prompts a laugh from Logan. Oscar laughs too, but with slight bitterness.

“No… it’s about you two.” Oscar says.

“Oh.” Alex replies.

“You know what, this is getting out of hand, I’m just gonna get straight to the point.” Oscar rambles.

“Why the hell are you two so close?” Oscar says, directing the question to Logan.

This question takes both Williams drivers by surprise, and seeing as though this question came without a filter, it surprises Oscar too.

“Because we’re teammates…” Logan says.

“Yes I know that but you two are… close close.” Oscar exaggerates his hand movements.

“Uhm…” Logan hesitates, “I guess Alex has been pretty nice to me, being a great person and all that.”

Oscar can feel his jealousy rising again, even more when Alex smiles at Logan.

Logan proceeds to tell his entire story about Qatar and all the races, along with how Alex helped Logan. 

“Alex sat next to me while I cried, because I had no one else.” Logan says and it feels like he’s on the brink of tears.

Oscar’s jealousy gets replaced by guilt. He had no one else.

“Everyone hated me. Well, exaggeration but that’s how I felt.” Logan says and Alex places one hand on Logan’s thigh, “But Alex was there. So it was better.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Oscar can feel the guilt piling up.

And then it finally dawns on him. Alex deserves Logan, not Oscar. In fact, Oscar doesn’t deserve Logan.

He’s placed everything else above Logan in the past year. Logan and his friendship didn’t matter to him, he was blinded; and while he was gone, Alex was there, to sit next to Logan while he cried on the hotel bed.

God he’s been a horrible friend. Everyone there knows that. Alex knows that, Logan knows that too. 

He let Logan go and now, like some brat, he expected Logan back again. He really was pretentious. He only cared about Logan once it got too late. He pretty much ignored Logan for the better part of the year, burying their friendship 6 feet deep.

Oscar can feel his regret building as Logan looks into Alex’s eyes. Usually it would be jealousy.

This was his second chance. 

“Sorry.” Oscar manages, a sting in his throat preventing him from speaking.

“What?” Logan asks.

“Sorry Logan.” Oscar repeats.

“For what…?” Logan’s oblivious.

“Being a shit friend.” Oscar says as he stifles a sniff.

“No… definitely not.” Logan laughs, “You’ve been a great friend.”

“You don’t need to lie.” Oscar sobs slightly.

Alex pats Oscar on the shoulder.

“Sorry to you too.” Oscar says to Alex.

Confusion builds on Alex’s face but he doesn’t inquire further, which is to Oscar’s benefit.

“It’s alright mate.” Alex says.

Oscar falls into Logan’s embrace, they hug.

Alex winks at Logan and gets up, “I’ll see you two soon.”

“I’ve been nothing but horrible. Please… forgive me, please.” Oscar says, his voice muffled from burying his head into Logan’s chest.

“Mate… I really have no clue what you’re talking about.” Logan says, his voice laced with concern.

Oscar looks up into Logan’s eyes, sniffling. He takes another deep breath, cleaning away his tears.

“You will not believe the things I have been thinking about these days.” Oscar says, “I’ve been so… so horrible.”

Logan cocks his eyebrow up again.

“I’ve been jealous.” 

There, he said it. Somehow it lifts a giant weight off Oscar’s chest.

“Of me and Alex?” Logan asks.

“Yes. Exactly that.” Oscar replies, “But I’ve realised. I’m a bitch.”

“Hey! Don’t say that about yourself.” Logan says, quickly hugging Oscar again.

Oscar struggles to get something out.

“I forgive you man. Let’s start again, yea?” Logan says while hugging Oscar.

Oscar nods, once again.

Logan pats Oscar’s head as they hug for a bit.

------ a/n: hope you like it lol. a little rushed but i tried to make it work.

EXTRA SCENE (Completely non-loscar related btw)

Lando have they talked? tell me they’ve talked Alex They have. Yes. Lando and they talked about their friendship right. Alex Yes Lan They did. Lando great! Alex I know. Who would’ve believed Oscar would be jealous. Lando me. i said it before Alex No one believes you anyway. Lando do you forgive oscah? Alex Yes. Because if I was him, I’d be jealous of me and Logie’s perfect relationship too Lando blah blah shut up. Alex Tell Oscar I forgive him And that Logan is all his again. I’ll still be a great teammate though. Lando Oscar says thank you.

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #logan sargeant #williams racing #williams formula 1 #williams f1 #oscar piastri #mclaren formula one #mclaren #mclaren f1 #mclaren racing #mclaren formula 1 #op81 #ls2 #ls2 x op81 #loscar #loscar fics #loscar imagines #loscar angst #op81 angst #ls2 x op81 angst #jealousy #f1 fanfiction #f1 angst #not beta read

[yanderewhispers]

Platonic Yandere! Older Sibling x Reader

Meet Alexander, a devoted sibling turned possessive yandere. After losing both parents, he steps up to protect you, but his love becomes suffocating.

Alexander, a devoted sibling whose unwavering love and determination to protect you were born from a heart shattered by the loss of both parents. As fate would have it, he stepped up to be your guiding light, the one who filled the void left by tragedy with fierce dedication and love.

In the beginning, Alexander's role as the protector was nothing short of heartwarming. His eyes held a tender warmth whenever they landed on you, his beloved sibling. He took up the mantle of a parent with a sense of purpose, vowing never to let you suffer or feel alone again. You were his precious responsibility, and he held onto that role with an unyielding grip.

His once carefree spirit was overshadowed by a subtle shift in his demeanor. As the days passed, his protectiveness evolved into something more intense, a smothering presence that never let you out of his sight. Whenever you attempted to venture outside without him, a flicker of anxiety would dance across his features, masked by a smile that never reached his eyes.

Alexander's emotions swirled beneath the surface, veiled by a desire to appear strong and steadfast. Yet, in the quiet moments when the world stood still, vulnerability seeped through the cracks. His eyes would betray glimpses of fear, fear of losing you, fear of being abandoned once more.

He yearned to keep you close, to cocoon you in a world where he alone could shield you from harm. However, the love he held for you collided with a growing possessiveness that gnawed at the fringes of his heart. He wanted to be everything to you, the sole person you turned to for support and affection.

When you interacted with others, a subtle change would come over him. A glint of jealousy flashed in his eyes, but he would quickly mask it with a gentle smile, never wanting you to feel guilty for having friends beyond him. Yet, his emotions roiled beneath the surface, the ache of possessiveness intermingling with the love that had once been pure.

In his darkest moments, Alexander grappled with his own inner turmoil, torn between his deep affection for you and the suffocating need to possess your every moment. He knew his actions were overbearing, but he couldn't bear the thought of anyone or anything taking you away from him.

In the stillness of the night, when shadows danced across his face, he would allow himself to be vulnerable. Tears glistened in his eyes as he questioned his own heart, struggling to comprehend the depths of his feelings and the extent of his possessive tendencies.

As the days turned into weeks, Alexander's vulnerability seeped through the cracks of his stoic facade more frequently. He was the older sibling, the one who was supposed to be strong and unyielding, but his heart knew no such boundaries. In the stillness of the night, when the world slumbered, he would sit alone, haunted by the fear of failing you.

In the dim glow of moonlight, his expression softened as he traced the lines of worry etched upon his face. His hands trembled slightly, a testament to the weight he carried upon his shoulders. The responsibility he bore as your guardian overwhelmed him, and doubts gnawed at the fringes of his consciousness.

"You deserve better than me," he whispered, his voice tinged with sorrow. The vulnerability in his words bared his soul, a confession of his own perceived inadequacy. He knew he could never replace your parents, and the burden of being the sole protector felt like an unyielding yoke around his neck.

In the quiet solitude of his thoughts, he questioned if he was doing enough, if his actions were driven by love or by his desperate need to keep you within his grasp. Doubt gnawed at his heart like a relentless tide, and he couldn't help but fear that his possessiveness was suffocating the very essence of you.

In the presence of others, Alexander's vulnerability hid behind a mask of strength and control. But when you were alone, he allowed his emotions to unravel like threads from a tapestry. He cherished every moment with you, yet the fear of losing you consumed him, tormenting him in the depths of his soul.

The weight of his emotions pressed upon him like an unyielding storm, tears welling in his eyes as he clung to the hope that you would never see him as a burden. He wanted to be the pillar of support you deserved, but in the labyrinth of his possessive tendencies, he felt like a broken guardian who couldn't truly set you free.

"I just don't want to lose you," he admitted softly, his voice catching with emotion. Vulnerability radiated from every fiber of his being, a desperate plea for you to understand the depth of his love and the turmoil that consumed him.

Despite his flaws and insecurities, his love for you remained unwavering. In the embrace of vulnerability, he yearned to be both your protector and your confidant, to stand by your side as a brother who would love and support you without reservation.

With each passing day, Alexander found solace in sharing his innermost fears and doubts with you, allowing his vulnerability to bridge the gap between them. His actions, once rooted in possessiveness, now evolved into a balance between protection and trust, understanding that to love someone truly meant to allow them the freedom to grow.

#male yandere #yandere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere older sibling #x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere concept

[agendabymooner]

own it ! alexander a. x ofc (thai!blackpink member!ofc)

“how you lighting up the room with your glow?”

summary: in which alex showed his hidden talent and supported his girlfriend in everything she did in a form of a photo book, cheesy instagram captions and comments.

content warning: equally besotted pairing, fluff, sexual innuendos from alex (real), brief mention of lance stroll x kpop idol!ofc, simps being simps, instagram stories + tweets

music inspo: own it by stormzy (ft. ed sheeran & burna boy)

note: i’ve been trying guys enjoy xx

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

liked by boamckinnon, logansargeant, alex_albon

user1 OK MISS MAAM SERVE THE CUNTRY

logansargeant operation grass touching is on the go 🫡 liked by the polsci

user2 sarge plz 😭 stop clowning your teammate

williamsracing ^^ what user1 said

georgerussell63 i can smell the scent of alex’s thirst comments from miles… liked by thepolsci

alex_albon is this the mother of our furry children???

user3 HELP HE NEEDS TO TOUCH GRASS

alex_albon are you a beaver because dam 🦫

alex_albon peng ting from bangkok u know what i’m sayin 😩 liked by thepolsci

thepolsci i am once again begging you to shut your mouth 😭😭

alex_albon on it 🫡

THEPOLSCI’S INSTA STORY

tagged alex_albon

liked by georgerussell63, boamckinnon, landonorris

user1 rip bank account

georgerussell63 putting lando.jpg out of business, i see 👀 liked by thepolsci

thepolsci my man got steady hands, idk what you’re on about

landonorris my photos are nice ☹️☹️

thepolsci they were blurry photos, my guy.

boamckinnon it’s like lando just came down from nutting tbh and his hands are still shaking

rosesarerosie BORA 😭😭

jennierubyjane we love our favourite marketing manager alex_albon 🫶🫶 liked by thepolsci

user2 alex in his social media manager era 🥴

williamsracing i can’t believe he learned from me and he’s getting more money out of his barely there skills… liked by thepolsci

thepolsci i’ll make sure you get royalties admin ❤️

williamsracing much appreciated, polly 🙏

alex_albon she’s actually not paying me for these photos so everyone please don't buy this and send money through my paypal 🙏 liked by thepolsci

thepolsci exploitation of each other’s talents and fame is a two-way street baby ❤️ for our kids

alex_albon you know what else is a two way street? 👀

user3 STOP TALKING ALEX YOU HORNY CRETIN

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015

#formula one imagine #formula one smau #f1 smau #f1 imagine #formula one fic #f1 fanfic #alex albon fluff #alex albon instagram au #alex albon imagine #alex albon #aa23 #alex albon au #alex albon smau #alex albon social media au #f1 fluff #formula one fluff

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

Tight spaces

Summary: The team get sick of you both dancing around one another and take matters into their own hands

Recom!Prager x Recom!Reader

@bookworm-07 maybe not a fluffy as last time!

Warnings: this is smut with barely any plot, fingering, dry humping, dirty talk

Prager liked you, no one could argue with that. The way he stared dreamily at any opportunity gave him away to everyone. Well everyone but you. No for all his sighs, compliments, lingering eyes and hands, you were oblivious.

Not like the kid was any better. Whining about how amazing you were and how you'd never go for a guy like him to anyone who'd listen. Despite the team remarking how you were doing the exact same thing.

Lyle quirked a brow up, watching you laugh at what couldn't have been a very good joke. Your hand resting on Prager's bicep just a little longer than necessary before you pulled it away, tucking hair behind the blush that had reached your ears.

Alexander slumped down next to him pulling his hat lower as he groaned.

"Oh it's too cringe I can't watch!" He moaned, sinking even lower. Lopez laughed from his other side, jabbing him in the ribs. Alexander yelped and crawled back up, punching his arm.

"We should do something!" Zdog smirked, turning back to face the group. A wicked smile crossed Lyle's face before a dropped tray startled him.

Quaritch scowled down at them. Lyle blanched, busted. No way big boss would approve of their meddling. Not when it involved two of his men.

"I got an idea." He drawled out. Lyle's eyes widened at the dark smile creeping across his face.

Across the room your ears twitched. The oddest shiver ran up your spine.

"You okay?" Prager looked down, voice tinged with concern. You could loose yourself in those honey eyes. You smiled gently up at him, Prager felt his heart flutter.

"No fine!" You chirped, sweet voice gracing him again as you continued your story.

Next morning Prager woke alone. The dorms were normally full of chatter at this time of morning. He crept out into the hall, still in just his boxers from sleeping. Prager rubbed his eyes looking around for anyone.

He called out, half expecting someone to jump out. No prank sprung, not when he popped his head in the next room and the next. He gently knocked on yours before he opened but even you were gone.

Had there been a mission? Had some alarm roused everyone else up and out? Why wouldn't Lyle have woken him? He normally loved dumping cold water or flipping him out of bed when he was late.

He rounded the corner to the mess hall, where he saw you. His breath caught in his throat. Instead of your normal gear you wore your own pjs. A tight tank top and tiny shorts riding so high he could see the curve of your ass. God he wished he wore something with a little more coverage himself.

"Prager!" You called, catching him out the corner of your eyes. You jogged lightly over and Prager tried very hard to keep his eyes on your face. Your tail swished behind you in apprehension.

"Where is everyone?" you fretted. You rung hands, fidgeting from foot to foot.

"I dunno, no one was in the dorms when I woke up, you?" He answered, trying hard to sound in control.

"No, I haven't seen anyone since I got up. You check the gym?" You quivered out, eyes darting up to meet his from their nervous glancing. Prager stiffened under your gaze, quickly looking behind you, hoping you hadn't noticed his ogling.

"Oh no good idea!" he croaked, voice catching in his tightening throat. Prager quickly shuffled past, heading toward the gym. He heard your bare feet patter after him. Your soft skin brushing against his arm as you walked by his side.

He pulled the double doors cautiously but the room was as empty as all the others. Looking to you he noticed your anxiety rise again, tail twitching, ears satelliting and your expression made his heart cry out.

He moved his hand up, hesitating a moment, before he placed it gently on your shoulder. You looked up at him, eyes glassy but you gave him a tight smile. Prager returned it with a warm smile of his own before a shape caught his eye.

Just off center of the room there was a green box. It was large, with black numbers uniformly painted on its side. He hummed curiously, edging over to the thing. You gripped his hand suddenly, your face fearful. Prager smiled back, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

He felt his chest swell as you creeped up with him, hand still firmly clasped in his own.

"Hey it's cool, I got you. Just looks like supplies I think..." Prager reassured you. He was pretty sure he was right. The container looked a lot like the ones in the hanger bays. Normally they'd be full of gear or food but as he got closer he could see this one was empty.

You both stood right in-front of it now, staring down into its emptiness.

"Huh? What you suppose its..." You began, before a sudden push sent you both tumbling inside. You felt yourself fall against Pragers bare chest, flushing despite the situation at the proximity.

Before you could even understand what was happening the lid slammed shut closing you both in darkness. A chorus of familiar laughter rang out. Zdog, Lopez, Lyle? You could definitely make out their voices, along with what sounded like the whole team!

"Sit tight lovebirds! We'll be back soon!" You heard Walker coo from outside.

"Hey! Wait!!" You shrieked in the tight space but you could hear the gym doors close. You pushed up against the lid but it remained tightly in place. Prager groaned under you, the motion having ground you deeper against him.

"Oh I'm sorry" you began, hands reaching out to his chest to steady yourself. In the cramped space you had to bend your neck down, kneeling on the base. You could feel the heat from Prager's breath fanning across your face in quick puffs, you must be inches apart.

Prager wasn't doing much better half laying with his legs bent and you straddling his waist. His arms were raised, hands touching the boxes lid. He'd dreamed of having you on top of him but not like this, what kinda prank were they playing!

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, just barely able to make out Prager by the glowing freckles that peppered his exposed skin. There was a lot of exposed skin. You felt the heat pool between your legs, praying that the thin fabric would hold it.

Prager was cursing himself, he'd already been half hard seeing you in the mess hall but this was not helping. Then you'd gone and shifted, half grinding down on him. He prayed you wouldn't shift again no way he could hide his erection if you did.

You panicked feeling your wetness grow. Your hands were against his strong chest but where else could you put them in the tight space. You raised them a second but your weight shifted down again. Your clothed pussy grinding again against Pragers abs. You let out the tiniest moan, feeling something hard twitch against the curve of your ass.

"Fuck" Prager groaned, your scent overwhelming in the tight space. He dropped his hands, in the tight space there was no where for them to go but to your thighs. You jolted a little at the contact, again adding just enough friction to make him groan again.

"You gotta stop moving." Prager begged, his voice sounding rough. He breathed in your sweet scent, his bent head so close to your throat. It smelt so good, he just wanted to breath it in more. Shifting forward ever so slightly he breathed in again, nose just brushing the column of your neck.

You whimpered at the feather light touch, hands gripping into his shoulders. Prager's thoughts felt foggy, distant as he shifted running his face up your neck.

"Prager..." You stuttered out, feeling his hands creep up your thighs to your ass. He nosed behind your ear, his fingers gripping at the soft skin under your shorts. You shuddered out another moan, louder this time. Pragers ears twitched at the sound, drawing him back to his senses. His hands left your skin, head tipping away.

"Y/n..." He began but your hands gripped his face, smashing his lips against your own. His hands gripped you again, kneading with renewed vigor, trailing up and under your shirt. In the tight space you couldn't remove the garment, so you shifted to kissing down his neck. You mewled as he teased your nipple, bucking your hips back against his erection.

Prager growled, the low rumbling sending more heat pooling at your core. His hands returned to your hips, gripping them as he rocked you back against him.

Prager could hardly believe what was happening. In his right mind he should be embarrassed, trying to hold off for a more private moment but he can't. Your kissing him so passionately, so wantonly, who was he to deny you.

Your lips are back on his, fangs tugging his lip, nipping at the plump skin. He moans against your mouth, Prager's tongue darting out to meet your own.

He's still bucking against you, causing delicious friction. You want more, you want to feel him inside you but there's so little room to move. You shift a hand back trying to feel his length, breaking the kiss as you angle yourself.

Prager grits his teeth, your hand reaching down and pumping his cock. He breathes your name out between grunts, leaning up to litter your neck with love bites.

He's so big. Thicker than you'd imagined too but there's not enough room to raise your hips enough to slide down the length. Still you imagine it as your hips grind and your hand works him. How he'd feel against your plush walls. How your tightening core would practically milk him. You begin to whisper these thoughts to Prager and he whimpers.

"Please...please do it." He begs against your skin. His hand trailing down into your shorts. "I'll do anything just make it happen."

His fingers push into you, one, then two, pumping slow, then matching with your strokes.

"I can't." You moan, his thumb pressing up against your clit. He whines, rubbing circles as he mouths at your throat. His teeth graze your pulse, breath shuddering. You feel him twitch in your hand, cumming in his shorts.

His fingers stutter their rhythm, your rocking hips all that still builds you closer to your own peak. Both hands free you grip into his hair, tugging as you ride his hand.

"Promise you will." He breathes against you, fingers finding their rhythm again, thumb building you to your peak.

"I promise, if you make me cum I'll milk you dry myself." You groan, despite himself, Prager feels his cock twitch back to life with the deal. Then your walls are clenching down on him, his name rolling off your lips in a chant of ecstasy.

He continues his motion, slowing as you come down from you high. Both caught between the heavy breathes of the other. So talkative before but now your throat constricts. Unable to talk to the guy who's still knuckle deep inside you.

Prager slips the fingers out and you still, waiting for a response. In the dark you hear his lips part, he sucks his fingers clean, pulling them from his lips with a pop.

"You think we can go another round before they get back?" He asks. You feel his tip hard again, you shift your chest forward pressing against his. You cannot reach between you but you feel it press against your folds, pushing your shorts aside.

You don't answer, you just sink down his length and he moans,

#prager x reader #prager #my fics #recoms #avatar imagine

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter Eight.

The people have spoken, so the story returns! :)

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,833

Warnings - 18+ only. Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

It was a curious sight to witness, watching the stillness of the vampire roused so much that she began to breathe again, her chest heaving under the cream silk of her blouse, her eyes shut as her jaw tightened and relaxed.  

“When I was taken, there was nothing stopping them from finding my vampire children, those whom I had made, who resided with me,” she began, feeling a maelstrom of rage and grief swirl within her. “As a mother of a born son, trust me when I tell you that the bond between creator and offspring is just as strong and loving for vampires as it would be between children and parents linked via traditional, human familial blood bonds.” 

The tension in the air seemed to thicken from Bryn’s grief, John resting his hand upon her leg, squeezing her thigh supportively. He didn’t say a word, but she felt it in his blood, him assuring her that she was fine because he was right there beside her.  

“Without me there to offer protection, they hunted them down and eventually captured all three before bringing them to where they held me,” she continued, her voice pinched with emotion. 

“I thought you said you had two offspring?” John asked softly, a frown denting his forehead. 

She swallowed hard. “I do, darling. Alexander and Joy were made what they are after I escaped, so that is not counting...” Closing her eyes, they appeared before her, the sanguine of her tears pooling as she opened her eyes, bright blue tinged red. “Counting those three they slaughtered before my very eyes, simply because they could. Peter, Marcheline and Lucious.  

“To even speak their names brings me the greatest pain. I was their mother, the one who gave to them their immortality, and the one who had to watch their demise while bound in silver, their limbs torn off, liquid silver poured down their throats before finally, being slowly impaled upon silver spikes and left to suffer, then staked through their hearts.  This is why I am alone; I cannot have my children close to me, lest risk them be taken and used to make me surrender, and I will die my final death before I let those men harm what is mine ever, ever again.”  

Tommy and John’s eyes widened, but truly, the one stirred heaviest was the one other woman within the room who understood the pain of having children ripped from her loving arms. Polly felt her heartstrings yanked at, to hear not only that Bryn lost them, but that they’d been tortured and murdered right in front of her. And she hadn’t been able to save them. From one bereft mother to another, she understood completely. 

Any stiffness melted as she exited her seat, walking around the table and crouching beside her, pulling Bryn into her arms as she cried softly. “I know, love. I know what it is, the pain you carry. I lost my babies, too. One returned, the other sadly passed, so I understand your pain in part. Doing what they did to them right in front of you, though?” Her jaw tightened, stroking her back and hair comfortingly. “Those fucking bastards.”  

“Now you understand fully, I hope,” she sniffed, emerging from Polly’s embrace, taking the handkerchief given with thanks as she dabbed at her face.  

“I do, I really bloody do, Brynhild. Come on, let’s get you straight. I’ve pan stick and powder you can redo your face with. Crying is bad enough, but crying blood is a right mess.”  

Bryn chuckled softly, sniffing as she nodded and composed herself, turning when John gently pulled her into a hug.  

“I’m so fucking sorry you went through that, bab. Go get yourself sorted, alright?”  

She nodded, kissing his cheek before Polly guided her through the house and up to her room so she could fix her face.  

“I didn’t think I’d ever see it, emotions so raw in a shadow walker,” Tommy stated, just as the front door opening signalled Arthur’s return. 

“She ain’t made of stone,” John said, shaking his head. “They feel things still. The older they get, the closer to their humanity they become again, as she told me.” His hand clenched into a fist, holding it against his mouth as his eyes narrowed. “If those fucking Rasmussen’s ever come near her, I’ll fucking do to them what they did to her bloody kids. I fucking swear I will.”  

“What did they do?” Arthur asked, seating himself again, reaching for the whiskey bottle. John’s explanation was paused by the reappearance of Polly and a freshly made-up Bryn, the former informing them that they would be up at The Garrison and to join them when they were ready.  

After their departure, John sat back and explained it all, watching his brother take it in, his eyes widening at various points.  

“Fucking hell,” Arthur sighed, running his hands over his hair. “No wonder then, that she sought us out to look after her when she’s asleep. A woman on her own like that, don’t matter does it, how strong she is. She’s vulnerable in the daytime. Poor bab, she’s had a bloody time of it, eh?”  

John was surprised to see Arthur soften his stance, but then again, he could never resist a damsel in distress. Even if by the fall of darkness, that damsel was the strongest apex predator on earth. “She ain’t like what we were told, or what we saw, is she?” 

“She can be,” John began, reaching for the whiskey glass Arthur slid across the table. He remembered back to the first night he’d met her, the way she’d so swiftly removed Samuel Rasmussen of his head. “When she has to be, she’s merciless. It’s how she was a human, too. A bloody Viking age Jarl, eventually, led men into battle, fought alongside ‘em. Never lost either. She was fucking hard as nails. As a vampire, she then spent hundreds of years being young and savage, but she ain’t like that no more. Not unless someone gives her reason to be.”  

“I bet you learned a whole lot over the last four days, didn’t you? With nowhere to go and not much to do,” Tommy then spoke.  

He didn’t notice it at first, the slight amusement in his voice, John looking up to catch Tommy’s expression. “Ahh, fuck off!”  

“So then,” he began, clearing his throat as a smile played his lips. “How was it?”  

John was somewhere between amusement at the curiosity within his second eldest brother’s face, and entertainment at the look of mild repulsion on Arthur’s. He might have softened a little to Bryn, but perhaps not so much that he could understand why John desired her as heavily as he did. Closing his eyes momentarily, the nights – and mornings - of heated ecstasy with his love flashed through his memories, a filthy chuckle filling the space as his grin widened. “Fang-tastic.” 

Tommy snorted a quiet laugh, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “Oh, god.” He’d asked, he supposed. Trust John to give such a reply. 

“You didn’t?” Arthur spat, straightening in his seat. “You let her bite you?” 

His grin carried with it all the smugness of a man who had experienced the best sex of his life, John reaching for his whiskey. “I did.” 

“And it didn’t hurt ya?” 

He shrugged nonchalantly, sipping his drink. “Stung a bit, but she was doing something else to me at the time that felt even better.”  

“Jesus wept!”  

Tommy and John exchanged glances, their laughter beginning to escalate at Arthur’s horror over the whole thing. “But... but she’s all cold! And dead!” 

“They warm up,” John revealed, snorting with laughter again. “And she wasn’t acting very dead from where I was sitting, I can tell you.”  

“That’s bloody disgusting, John boy!” 

He continued to revel in the reactions he was being met with. “Don’t be a prude, Arthur. I thought you were alright with her now?” 

“Yeah, I mean she seems alright, like. A nice lady, I suppose, but... no. I couldn’t. No. It ain’t natural.” 

“Sex is perhaps the most natural thing in the world, Arthur,” Tommy chimed, John raising an eyebrow. 

“She can hear every word you’re saying too, you know.” 

The eldest Shelby’s face was a picture of confusion. “How? She’s in the bloody Garrison!” 

“Bryn? Come here, love,” he spoke quietly, waiting. 

Two blinks passed, and suddenly there she stood. 

“Is everything well?” she asked, resting her hand to John’s shoulder.  

“Ar, just proving a point.” Taking her hand in his, he kissed her knuckles. “We’ll be along just now.” 

She smiled fondly at him, squeezing his fingers. “Okay, I shall wait.” Her eyes then moved to Arthur, her smile widening. “Every word.” With a wink, she was gone, Arthur feeling his cheeks tingle. They stayed only to work out the finer details of their new alliance, John of course pledging himself forward to be on the roster of protective presences at Georgian House.  

“I can't have you there all the time, John boy, but I do see the sense in it since you’re likely to be spending a lot more time in Little Aston,” Tommy began, lighting a cigarette. “You and Isiah, I’ll see if I can persuade Johnny Dogs to put his feelings aside and he can pair with you, Arthur. Then I’ll get Christopher and Mickey Two Suits on the third rotation.”  

The latter of the Peaky Blinders were relatively new members of the gang, men whose father’s had known the family well for years. “Fucks sake, don’t ever put me on with Two Suits, Tommy! He could talk the legs off a bloody chair, that lad.” Indeed, the man with the monicker that suggested such only owned two suits, as well as a predisposition for never shutting up. Ever. To coin him a chatterbox would have done a disservice to those who enjoyed the art of conversing.  

While the Shelby men were hashing out the finer details of their new bodyguarding enterprise, an entirely different crime family were gathering their own information. Information relating to the same woman.  

Patrick Rasmussen straightened the papers in his hands, reaching out to knock upon the office door before him.  

“Yes?” his father called from behind the heavy, oak door. Turning in his seat, he saw his now eldest son enter, who had been the second up until recently. Up until his beloved Samuel’s headless body had been found down in Birmingham.  

A tragic accident involving an out-of-control automobile, the police and coroner had chalked it up to. It was no such thing, and he knew it. Of course, those who has spun the lie happened to be on the payroll of the very criminal outfit that he, Edward Rasmussen, was attempting to prevent striking foot in the north. Edward was biding his time there, preparing to strike back against the Peaky Blinders when they least expected it. “Got anything for me, lad?” 

“Aye, I have, like.” Proffering the papers forth, he watched his father take his spectacles from his breast pocket, placing them on to read the information that had come from New York. “The house our fellas in Manhattan managed to track her to is still being heavily guarded. Couple of the Genovese family lads are out on the doors all day, heavily armed. The house in Cologne she was residing at for a brief period has sat empty since summer, and her flat in Moscow shows no signs of residence either. The guards there moved off the doors eight weeks ago.” 

“She’s moving around more,” Edward mumbled, looking at the photographs before him, reading the papers that tracked the movements of the vampire, the elusive woman who for centuries had appeared only to vanish again as his ancestors had hunted her. “Fucking clever lass. Never stays in one place for long. I’ll not be wanting a bloody war with the Sicilian lads either, and she fucking well knows it, she does.” 

His hand pounded the papers to the desk, his knuckles flexing as he rested a closed fist to his mouth, thinking.  

“What are you proposing, dad? You want us to go over there with a few lads, have a chat with the Genovese’s, offer ‘em more than what she’s paying to give her up? You could call ‘em now, like, couldn’t you?” 

Edward waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head. “I can’t do nothing tonight, son. My first priority is getting your mam up the church to see Samuel before the service come tomorrow.” As their Catholic faith dictated, Samuel’s body was welcomed into the church the night before his funeral, the Rasmussen’s all attending mass that evening. 

Open coffin funerals were not common in England, but Edward had paid the undertaker handsomely to prepare his son’s body to a fitting state, all so his mother could see her first born one last time. To say his beloved Kitty had howled with grief when he’d had to tell her the news would have been an understatement. To also deliver that three of her nephew's had perished too had not helped matters either.  

Leaving the office, the men moved downstairs to where their family sat in wait, ready to board the cars that would take them to Our Lady of Lima, ready to say goodbye to their precious Samuel. It burned through him again, the excuse given over his son’s demise as he took in his grief-stricken wife, Kitty pulling the elegant lace veil upon her hat down over her eyes.  

They were greeted by the priest upon arrival, condolences offered, a few other friends and family members within the walls of the holy building all giving the same.  

“Come on, pet,” Edward encouraged, his arm tightening around a distressed Kitty as he steered her down the aisle, “be strong for him now, eh love.” Seeing his son lying there, resplendent in his best suit, he felt his throat pinch tightly as Kitty collapsed at the edge of the coffin, her distressed cries echoing up through the high ceilings of the church. Her choked sobs sang a hymn of mourning for her first born, reaching to stroke his icy cheeks and well-groomed shock of black hair.  

“I love you, my Sammy. Oh, you have to know even in death how much mammy loves you.” Violence and bloodied endings were the way of their world, but it didn’t mean the wound of loss cut any shallower.  

As Kitty wept over her son’s cadaver, a million images of him as bonny little tot playing in her mind’s eye, Edward offered comfort, dabbing at the corners of his eyes with a handkerchief. The undertaker had done a fabulous job preparing his body, the stitching only just visible above Samuel’s collar where his head had been reattached. Reaching for the well-starched white cotton, he made a move to pull it up a little further, and it was then that he saw the distinctive marks there just below the stitches.  

Puncture wounds.  

At just over an inch apart, there was only one creature on earth capable of inflicting such; the very creature he would hunt until his dying breath. His mind worked overtime as he escorted Kitty to a pew, sitting down, his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she composed herself. Could it truly be her? For centuries, Brynhild had aligned herself with those of wealth and power for protection, kings, lords, gangsters. Who was to say that she would not do the same with his other arch nemeses?  

“Aye, looks like we’re in for another downpour, dad,” Patrick spoke to him as they exited the church after mass, pulling on his gloves as the snow tumbled thick from the northern sky. The roads had only just become drivable again that morning.  

Edward lifted his chin, watching the sky as it became littered by a flurry of white, his jaw tensing. “As soon as it clears, we put eyes on the Blinders. I just saw something on your brother’s neck that leads me to believe that Brynhild is in league with ‘em. But if it’s not her, I want it hunted and eradicated all the same.”  

Pulling his cigarette case out, he screwed one between his lips, leaning toward the light his son offered. “We will rid the people of this nation of the scourge that is vampires, lad. If I promise you nothing else, then I promise you that.” 

Meanwhile in Birmingham, where the snow had also begun to fall thickly again, the number one enemy of the Rasmussen’s was safely behind the walls of her opulent home with a fever of heat building at her apex. With her legs over his shoulders as he knelt before the settee, John watched her falling apart, the honey of her cunt saturating his thirsty tongue as he laved at her.  

Her hands went to his hair, combing through, fisting at the roots as her hips rose, a long sigh of gratification leaving her mouth as his sucked on her hungrily. She rocked against each burning lick, her clit pebbling as it was bathed in long, firm sweeps. The heat of his mouth drove cool fire through her veins, glimmers tingling up her spine as she cried out. 

His breath fluttered hot over her folds, John looking up at her with a wink as his hands teased goose bumps to prickle her thighs, Bryn utterly revelling in the heaven he conjured upon her with his mouth. 

“God, you taste almost as beautiful as you fucking look, sweetheart.” he rasped, voice deepened by lust, tongue flickering in a quick, firm beat over her clit. 

The pleasure took its root deep in her core, beginning to ascend like a creeping vine, her thighs shaking, torrid waves washing over her as she throbbed. Her arousal became edged in a little pain as she felt her walls widening, slick and ready for him, her breaths ragged. 

Emerging from between her legs, their combined effort pulled him from his clothes with the same haste he’d stripped hers with upon arriving back, John yanking her from the settee into his arms, moving to lay her upon the rug. He slid against the velvet of her folds, entering her fluidly, her legs bracketing his hips as they shared kisses full of sugary sin.  

He was immediately urgent and overwhelming within her, cock dragging her slick with heavy, rolling thrusts, the thick of his hardness making her simmer. Her veins flooded with biting, nerve ending sizzling pleasure, his teeth clamping upon her nipples in turn before his mouth found hers once more. 

“How dare you,” she panted, nuzzling him. He looked down at her in puzzlement, Bryn continuing as she stroked his handsome face. “How dare you be the first man in centuries to capture my heart as much as you have, John Shelby.”  

His smile broadened, kissing her softly. “All part of me charm.” She chuckled, and he kissed her again, looking into the glacial blue of her eyes, overcome by her entirely. “I didn’t know what love was, until I found you.”  

Bryn felt every last drop of that love in his kisses, the way his blood flared within her veins, clutching his body tightly as it moved in effortless sync with hers. There he was at last, the man she’d walked the earth for centuries in hopes to find, someone who was all hers, someone to take away the loneliness she’d felt without her offspring near to her.  

There he was.  

The gentleness in him subsided quickly, sensing her need, fury and instinct overtaking anything that bordered on contained. His own unrelenting desire to fuck her voraciously dragged him headlong into mindlessness, her nails tearing down his back, his teeth sharp at her throat in retaliation, eyes inky and pupils blown as he looked down at her.  

He filled her again and again in a greedy, pounding rhythm, her mouth dropped open, crying out with every pant. Sitting back on his heels, he pushed her legs apart, spreading her, watching the gloss of her arousal twinkling in the firelight upon his cock as he fucked her hard. 

Her body lurched with every determined daggering of his hips against hers, cock arrowing her keenly, her cunt glimmering as he drove skitters of caustic pleasure through her, his groans deep and soaked in lust. The little switches around his shaft had the coil within him tightening sharply, a blade of ecstasy cutting through him right to his very marrow. She was a molten, slick mess around him, the sound of his driving into the clutch of her cunt so savagely, the obscene noise of their fuck filled the room.  

Her shuddering body, jerking as her muscles corded and twitched beneath her tattooed skin was a feast for his eyes, pouring pleasure into her with boundless determination, leaning to kiss her with filthy indulgence. He locked his arms around her, pulling her up, holding her tightly to him as he bounced her on his cock, scattering kisses at her neck as he panted words of love.  

She felt delirious, those extra few inches of thick hardness speared into her, her nails dragging over his shoulders, her head thrown back as he bit crescents onto her neck, sucking welts, hands running up her back and grasping her shoulders. Pulling her down onto him further, until she was entirely full, his ears tingled with the screams of her ecstasy. To John, there was no sweeter sound in the world. 

The silken, slick throb of her walls in spasm around him began to pull it from him, a crest so acerbic he could barely hang onto it, the wild coursing of release. His chest heaved as he panted raggedly, Bryn feeling the glimmers streak through her like a hail of comets, pressed to him so tightly her clit rubbed deliciously against his pubic bone, that friction sending her further into the relentless abyss, her shattering closer, closer, closer… 

“Oh!” And there it was, the crest that rolled up like a dark wave, knocking her sideways, his teeth crushing her neck as he growled with each fervid twitch of his cock releasing into her, her nails removing his back of a layer of skin. It fizzed through them, right to their bones.  

The comedown was sweet and swirling, their bodies slowing to stop as they fought for air, Bryn resting her forehead to his as her breathing stilled to nothing once more, her fingertips stroking his face.   

“My love,” she purred, offering soft kisses, nuzzling him, her walls still fluttering pleasantly around his cock. “How well you always fuck me.” 

His grin broadened, as she knew it would. “I plan on doing it a few more times tonight an’ all.”  

She was always fond of such a pledge, even more so when he lived up to it until three o’ clock in the morning.  

#john shelby fanfiction #john shelby smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders smut #john shelby x ofc #john shelby imagine #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine #immortal beloved #john and bryn

[vogueman]

Felix Mallard photographed by Justin Campbell for Tings Edition No. 6. Felix wears full look Alexander McQueen

#Felix Mallard

[hannahhook7744]

My Descendants Fancasts Redone (Part 2);

Momona Tamada as Yi-Min, daughter of Yao.

Song that makes me think of them: "That's not my name!" by The Ting Tings.

Ben Barnes as Pinocchio.

Song that makes me think of them: "Cages" by We The Kingdom.

Madonna Sebastian as Shanti from The Jungle Book.

Song that makes me think of them: "Jungle Drum" by Emitiana Torrin.

Sara Tomko as Tiger Lily.

Song that makes me think of them: "Choose Your Fighter" by Ava Max.

Calum Worthy as Lampwick from Pinocchio.

Song that makes me think of them: "Chasing The Original High" by Adam Lambert.

Margot Robbie as Princess Eilonwy.

Song that makes me think of them: "Kings & Queens" by Ava Max.

Freya Mavor as Alice in Wonderland.

Song that makes me think of them: "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane.

Alexander Ludwig as Alexander from Pinocchio.

Song that makes me think of them: "Are you satisfied?" by Marina.

Vanessa Hudgens as Tiger Peony, daughter of Tiger Lily.

Song that makes me think of them: "Waiting On the World to Change" by John Mayer.

Joey Bragg as Pin, son of Pinocchio.

Song that makes me think of them: "White and Nerdy" by "Weird Al" Yankovic.

(Thanks for the help, @casinotrio1965 ).

#descendants #disney descendants #melissa de la cruz #disney #descendants au #wicked world #disney descendants au #descendants fancast #etc

[weclassybouquetfun]

Hannah leading the TED LASSO pack.

Doing tourist tings.

"We saw you from across the bar and we like your vibe.."

With TED LASSO ending (and it is ending. I don't care about all the hedging that still persists about, "We told *this* story", the show's done. They need to hush their butts with that) it's time to look towards the future. What is on the horizon for AFC Richmond.

The cast next gigs...Oooh whee, what's up with that? What's. Up.With.That?

-Jason Sudeikis will appear in Charlie Day's directorial debut FOOL'S PARADISE.

-Hannah Waddingham: Will co-host Eurovision next month, appears in the four part Masterpiece mini TOM JONES

, will appear in THE FALL GUY with Ryan Gosling, MISSION IMPOSSIBLE: DEAD RECKONING Part 2, will have a Christmas special and will do voicework in Dan Harmon's animated series for Fox KRAPOPOLIS (alongside Matt Berry and Richard Ayoade) and voicework in 2024's animated film GARFIELD with Chris Pratt voicing the titular lasagne loving cat.

-Brett Goldstein: Brett will also do voice work for GARFIELD. He's also currently writing series two of Apple+'s SHRINKING

-Toheeb Jimoh can be currently seen on POWER on Amazon Prime. He's currently in rehearsals for his return to the stage in ROMEO AND JULIET for the Almedia Theatre.

-Nick Mohammed: Unsure whether the series that he created/writes and stars in INTELLIGENCE will be renewed as a series or as a wrap-up film, Nick has other works going. He costars in MAGGIE MOORES directed by John Slattery (MAD MEN) and stars Tina Fey and Jon Hamm; he will do voicework in the sequel to CHICKEN RUN titled CHICKEN RUN: DAWN OF THE NUGGET and he has a role in the upcoming Disney+ historical series THE BALLAD OF RENEGADE NELL which will star Alice Kremelberg (ORANGE IS THE NEW BLACK), Frank Dillane, Joely Richardson and Craig Parkinson.

-Jeremy Swift: Will do voice work in the animated cat caper 10 LIVES joining Bill Nighy, Sophie Okonedo and Simone Ashley. Jeremy also joins the Disney Descendants universe for the musical DESCENDANTS: THE RISE OF RED. He currently has a cd out.

-Phil Dunster: Phil is sticking around Apple TV+ for the time being as he joined series two of their drama SURFACE which stars Gugu Mbatha-Raw (the first season saw her opposite Oliver Jackson-Cohen).

-Juno Temple: Juno was already in the DC universe with a role in THE DARK KNIGHT RISES, but now she joins Brett and Cristo in the Marvel world with a role in the upcoming VENOM 3. She also has a role in the upcoming EVEREST about George Mallory's attempt at scaling the mountain. It will star Ewan McGregor, Sam Heughan and Mark Strong. However, before all that, expect to see her in series 5 of FARGO.

-Cristo Fernandez is a jobbing actor. You will hear him in TRANSFORMERS: RISE OF THE BEAST as Wheeljack

he will do voicework in SCOOB! HOLIDAY HAUNT, he appears in four shorts, the feature 3 FLOWERS and it was just announced that he's joining series 3 of Apple TV+'s ACAPULCO and the Disney+ adaptation of ALEXANDER AND THE TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY.

-Moe Jeudy-Lamour (Thierry Zoreaux Van Damme) will costar in the sequel to cousins Stephen and Robbie Amell's film CODE 8. It will be released on Netflix.

New Village People has dropped.

-Moe Hashim: Moe will costar in Roland Emmerich's gladiator series THOSE ABOUT TO DIE.

-Charlie Hiscock: Will appear in Yorgos Lanthimos' POOR THINGS alongside Margaret Qualley, Emma Stone, Willem Dafoe and Mark Ruffalo.

-Sarah Niles: Will turn up in the long gestating reboot of THE TOXIC AVENGER starring Peter Dinklage, Jane Levy, Elijah Wood, Kevin Bacon and Jacob Tremblay. She can currently be seen in ITVX's RICHES.

-James Lance: Always one for voicework, James has lent his talent to the short HANGING which is the writer debut of background Greyhound Joe Street (far right).

#ted lasso #ted lasso cast #jason sudeikis #hannah waddingham #toheeb jimoh #james lance #cristo fernández #brett goldstein #phil dunster #jeremy swift #moe hashim #sarah niles #juno temple #moe Jeudy-Lamour

[jackiequick]

Joshua Nolan - As sweet as honey but forgetful as a wish 🍯

= Note: He is also considered an Disney/OUAT OC

-> Christoper Robin — Joshua C. Nolan

-> How lucky I am to have something, that makes saying goodbye so hard

~~~~

Full name: Joshua Christopher Nolan-Morozov

Character titles: Christopher Robin, Daring Charming, The Knight, Lost Boy

Nicknames: Josh, Col, Colten, Robin, Charming Jr, Monkey, Silly Ol’ Bear, Sweet Boy

Age: 16-22

Height: 5’9

Birthplace: The Enchanted Forest

Job: Peacekeeper, Knight, Prince

~~~

Parents: Snow White & Prince Charming — Amelia Parker & Nikolai Morozov

Uncles: Alexander Morozov (The Dark Prince), Cole Lensherr (Rumple), Captain Hook (Jeremy)

Aunts: Cinderella (Rochelle Romanoff) , Michelle Danvers (Charming) , Mal (Liane Felton)

Best Friends: Belladonna St. James — Golden Believer, Author, Black Swan

Sexuality: Into guy, girl or both?

~~

Face claims: Jacob Tremblay (young), Alexander Calvert (older)

~~~

— Personality 🧩

He teenager with a heart of gold, yet his journey through life has been marked by shadows of loneliness and uncertainty. Despite his innate kindness and compassion, Joshua often finds himself navigating the world with a sense of hesitancy and clumsiness.

He tends to be shy in unfamiliar situations, his steps cautious and his words often tinged with a hint of passive-aggressiveness as a shield against his own insecurities. Joshua's tendency to act before he thinks often leads to moments of forgetfulness and clumsiness, with questions arising either too late or too early in conversations.

Despite these challenges, Joshua possesses an unwavering determination to put his best foot forward, even if it means following someone else's lead. However, this inclination to defer to others sometimes lands him in trouble, as he struggles to assert himself in moments of uncertainty. Nevertheless, Joshua perseveres, his resolve unshaken as he strives to overcome obstacles and find his place in a world that often feels overwhelming and unfamiliar.

In addition, he is an invitation of light with a mere sense of darkness within due to be alone for so long and fear of being shut down for being an orphan. But he has an ability you can say, he can see people’s heart sometime’s before their action.

~~~

Skills:

Swordsmanship

Marksmanship (with guns)

Archery (Bow & Arrow)

Negotiation

Quick Thinking

Light Magic?

Favorite Things:

Music

Reading & Writing (he has a knack for taking down notes and references to his latest research)

Movies (comedic and acclaimed action movies)

His silly old bear

His blanket with a monkey imprint

Blueberry pie

Honey with a dash of salt (or any other favorite snacks)

~~~~

—Playlist 🎶

—Yellow - Coldplay, ‘For you, I’d bleed myself dry’

—Somewhere Only We Know - Keane, ‘And if you have a minute, why don’t we go talk about it somewhere only we know’

—Slipping Through My Fingers - ABBA, ‘What happened to the wonderful adventures, the places I had planned for us to go?’

—It’s Time - Imagine Dragons, ‘Now, don’t you understand that I’m never changing who I am?’

—You Are My Sunshine - Johnny Cash, ‘You'll never know, dear. How much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away.’

—Dear Theodosia - HAMILTON, ‘Pride is not the word I'm looking for. There is so much more inside me now.’

—Lost Boy - Ruth B, ‘There was a time when I was alone. Nowhere to go and no place to call home’

—Fight Song - Rachel Platten, ‘Take back my life song. Prove I'm alright song.’

—Stand By You - Rachel Platten, 'Cause I'm gonna stand by you. Even if we're breaking down. We can find a way to break through’

~~~~

—Background 🎞️

Growing up in the real world, he just a newborn when he came. The only thing he has of his bio parents are a blanket with his name 'Joshua C.' that had a tiny little monkey imprinted next to his name. He kept it over the years and never let it go hoping to find his parents one day and understand what happened. Growing up, he was put in the system being raised by families here and there, he found people who cared for him and others who didn't.

He was close to be adopted once by it didn't go how he might've wanted due to a few legal mix-ups that happened. He was fine with it. He stayed with a couple of good friends who's parents were more than happy to have him live with them.

There he would read comic books like marvel & dc, watch a a lot of movies like Peter Pan, Tangled, Real Steel, The Dark Knight, Avengers, Star Wars. He would grow up mixing himself with ways to escape reality by watching shows, hanging out with friends and always trying to be a good person by the end of the day. Despite it being hard, he sometimes stole from stores to survive which caused him to be treated badly for his crimes.

He wasn't the best at Math or Science to a certain extent, but he was rather good with English and History for some reason. He did trouble reading for a while, a teacher told him it’s problem with ADHD that he would have to work on later in life.

He liked art too, always doodling in his notebook. Over the years he did trying searching for his parents and wondered about his name but never got a clear answer. His last name was given by the first ever family that took him called 'Nolan' and it kinda stick with him. He liked it but he always went with the flow of it all, feeling a little numb by the world around him watching everyone pass by as he stayed in the same spot wondering what’s wrong with him.

Did he screw up somehow?

—Despite the goodness he has gotten, being lucky with things. He did have his harsh moments like shaped him into keeping a guard up every once in a while. Poor kid has had his ass handed to him more than once.

Some families that took him one just wanted the money, he tend to get bullied at school for not knowing he was, he was shy so he didn't always stick up for himself so he ended up a little bruised growing up, but he had a mouth on him for sure. He was a kid, so he may act like a baby when he's hurt or something.

Joshua may be shy, kind, a little bitter like a lemon and like to maintain a positive outlook on life but he is strong willing, doesn't like to listen at times and destroy orders if allowed to survive, he will talk back in his own way and have his mind tinkering with other ideas. He has a small drive within him to go with the flow but keep his head up and make sure to things turn out alright.

He was a trooper!

———

—Little flashbacks 🌌

In the enchanted forest, when the land found out about Amelia’s pregnancy, people were overjoyed and curious. Gifts were brought by friends, polls were made on names, some of their friends went overboard with designs on the nursery and so much more.

The parents were most excited of all. With the plenty of things that happened in their world, they thought children were out of the question but fate stepped in to say otherwise. Plenty of names were made in the polls, adding middle names for good measure.

When it came to gifts, a certain women in purple couldn’t help the urge but to go shopping in the very markets for stuffed animals and clothes of all kind.

Prince Nikolai Charming walks into the nursery one afternoon as his jaw dropped finding stuffed animals of different kinds all wrapped with a bow. A bear, a tiger, a small pig, a rabbit, and plenty of others. For a moment he thought his wife went overboard when a sweet cloud of purple smoke came popping in beside him as the women inside it grinned.

“You love it?” She said picking up one of the stuffed creatures playing with it’s jaw and said, “This one is Eeyore! Isn’t he cute?”

“You spoiling my child, they haven’t even arrived yet.” He replied with a chuckle reaching for a silly ol’ yellow bear, “Aww.”

“But aren’t they darling?”

“They are. Very are more than welcome to stay in this castle.”

“Wonderful! I also have a stuffed owl being brought up soon.”

The lady of the home walked in to see her husband and friend playing with the toys as if they are were children. She smiled asking, “Did you buy the whole market?”

“Hey! When you marry a prince, you understand the life of shopping for glory items.” Said Mal with a grin, “You love it?”

“I do. Cole will have a say about this, thinking you’re doing this to have your name on the poll.”

“Oh please, we would never..I like Liana as a name.”

“I knew it.” Responded her husband with a cheeky grin, looking over at the blanket laying over the crib the the stuffed bear in hand having an idea for later. He smirked to himself.

Charming moved behind his wife, using the paws of the bear to play the drums softly of her belly hoping it would get a kick out of their son or daughter. And to their surprise, a small kick came in return that startled his wife but got a laugh out of him. Liane laughed too.

Charming laughed, “Our kid seems to like the bear. Hmm, how about Winnie..?”

“..Pooh bear..” She added running her fingers across the stuff toy.

That same night as the two parents were crawling into bed, Charming hasn’t let go of that bear since, using it to tap over his wife’s belly as she laughed telling him to stop.

But he didn’t listen as he said, “Shh we are having father and baby playtime.”

“You’re a menace to society.” She repiled in between giggles.

“I know. I was thinking, for names..Joshua?”

“Joshua? I like it—no, I love it. Our little Josh and for a girl..Nadia?”

“Oooh Nadia..how about Robin? Nadia Robin”

“Pretty works for both!”

The two of them thought name list for a moment as their child kicked their mother again. Charming laugh finding it silly how his baby thinks it funny to frighten their mother as she glared at him not finding it so funny.

She spoke up this time holding up the list as she said, “Joshua..Christopher or Colton, as a middle name?”

He thought about it and snort pretending for a moment a scenario, “Joshua Christopher go to your room, young man..yeah I like it.”

“And Colton?”

“Hmm..Colton Robin, come downstairs for dinner we’re serving chicken!”

“Oooh Robin this time?”

As the parents talked issuing out names and combinations, their son or daughter kicked every once in a while. He was like their little monkey inside their mother’s belly.

~~~~

It was a late night, Amara Snow sat in the rocking chair of the nursery sewing together fabric to craft the blanket for their newly announced son.

She hummed a little tune instead of sleeping being careful with the needle saying, “You are gonna love it out here, bubba. You can jump around, learn how to read and write, have picnics outside theses walls, go to balls where you can dance past your bedtime..oh and you can hear your father sing.”

As if on cue, the man of the house walked in carrying designs he had for the blanket hearing the last part of her words.

He joked, “I don’t sing, my son.”

“Yes you do.” She replied noticing the papers in his hand, “What’s that?”

“Drawings I made for the blanket to put right next to his name.”

“Oh let me see.”

He reaches down to sit beside her, holding out the drawings to be made into patches for the blanket. One of a monkey, the other of a bear, a bird, a leaf, a crescent moon and a lovely sun.

The two of them choose the monkey to fit their little man best, deciding to place the right next to Joshua’s name in a sweet stylish handwriting. Cole wanted a settle for a stylish font for the name which was a darling choice.

“Our little monkey.” Nikolai joked resting a hand on her belly as a little punch was given in return causing him to gasp, “I thought you were asleep. Go to sleep!”

It was as if their son refuse to listen and kicked his father’s hand again. It was Snow’s turn to laugh at his reaction hearing that their son would be ground til he’s 2, if he doesn’t go to sleep. Her husband sent her a playful glare asking if she found it funny as she nodded.

“Then again, we aren’t much sleepers either hon.” Amelia added mid laugh.

“Not helping.” He respond trying to hide his smirk but failed.

~~~~

They had their good times and they’re bad with little Joshua despite not being born yet. Times Amelia would feel tired, other moments across during her pregnancy having gotten into some delicate cravings and or not fitting into her old dresses.

It kinda actually kinda cute sometimes, with their friends laughing. Cole would walk into her craving salted caramel cookies in the kitchen stealing one out of her hand taking a large bite as she pouts and glares at him. Charming would admit his one of his favorite moments were the fact that she had theses cravings, which meant he can buy as many treats as he liked. She would sometimes find his stuffing his face with leftovers in the middle of the night instead of resting and he would just give her a witty comeback in return.

Rochelle sometimes find her trying to sew a dress that would actually fit as she giggled wondering, if she’s alright and needed any help as the brunette would only nod.

“Your son is killing me.”

“Don’t talk about my child that way.”

“Joshua is trying to use my body as a punching bag resulting in my sore back and the other times, I’m carving something like pie or pasta.”

“Atta’ boy, he’s going to grow up and have an amazing taste in food like his father.”

Nik would hold back a laugh at his wife’s glare knowing she means well, just tired. Other days she was rather relaxed and chilling like nothing happened, enjoying her time. Other time he would get a glare from her that was rather hilarious to him.

“Are you serious?” She added with a half smile.

He cup her face and smile, “I’m kidding, love. I know you tired but think of this as his way of entertaining you while I’m gone.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry..I’m being a whiny wife to you.”

“It’s not your fault, love. You have every right to be this way.”

“But, I sound like a little bitch..I love our son, I’m just tired..”

“It’s okay. You need to rest.”

“So do you! You have been riding your horse, watching over our friends and practicing you’re fighting with Marlene for weeks now.”

“I’m fine.”

“Nicholas. You need to sleep, I’m worried about you.”

He smiled at how his wife was able to create life and worry about him all the same time despite her tiredness amazed him sometimes. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then one to her belly promising to draw himself a bath then get some rest later that night after dinner.

~~~~~

The day Joshua was born was an unexpected one. Within their friend group—found family—nothing is ever normal. Despite the circumstances of his birth and having only a few mere moments with him, a promise stayed true. Their son is a trooper no matter what and even if he felt alone in life, he never was due to his parents being there in spirt even if he didn’t know it.

Heck his dad was fighting knights with him in the hallways, holding a sword in one hand and his son perfectly safe in the other. He wiggled a bit didn’t cry, only whimpered softly at the sudden movements. Nik grinned to himself as his gaze fell to his boy.

It also helped that before closing the door to protect their son from danger, Nik reaches for his stuffed bear gently placing it right next to him, as he kissed his forehead. He smiled softly at his son sweet little face, remembering the framed photos of himself as a child at his old home when he just born.

His beautiful boy.

——

— Christopher Robin Era 🧸

The years when Joshua grew into his teenage-hood, he became more angsty and spiteful than ever before. Yes he was kind, humble enough and honest to everyone he spoke to. But he never felt truly valued or part of his pack. Despite being told time and time again by his father and mother, he was loved. He couldn’t fully comprehend the fact that he was meant to be home, safe and secure with them.

Especially with having an uncle so villainous as Alexander, and his adventures to different parts of the universe.

He decided to have faith in the possibility that he would get there someday and become worthy of the title, a part of the family. Because behind the awkward charm, clumsy tendencies, witty humor and gentle sarcasm held a lost boy from Neverland who was searching for comfort. And he found that comfort in old stuffed bear, Winnie The Pooh, who was there with him since day one of coming into this world as he never let go of him. He will forever be grateful for his father, Nikolai, for placing Pooh in the wardrobe that day, as that bear stayed with since birth.

-> He named Pooh bear, Winnie The Pooh, after the first kind person who treated him fair when he was only five. His kindergarten teacher Winnifred Robinson, as she was known to be a sweetheart towards him and his small set of classmates.

She could see a lot in someone by just the slightest hint of affection in her eyes. It instantly made Joshua smile and want to see the world instead of staying silent, allowing himself to explore creative ideas such as drawing and writing.

Due to spending so much time in her classroom, he would ask him about her thoughts on life and she would respond by saying whatever was on her mind in the most profound positive voice. Her voice was like honey.

Pooh brought support, reassurance and encouragement for him. Sometimes he would cuddle up with Pooh, looking up at the ceiling and just staring down at his chocolate brown buttons as the bear listened to him. It was like Pooh understood him in more ways than one.

Growing up, Pooh became his friend, as the two were going everywhere together. Hell, Joshua would eat his honey salted caramel cookies and play pretend that Pooh’s favorite treat was honey. When he was younger, he lost his silly old bear a couple of time in foster homes, as kids would throw the bear around and try to keep him away in the backyard to be dug up later. Which resulted in him having to wash the stuffed bear later on carefully and then put him on his bed for safety reasons.

-> When he was 14, Pooh ended up with a small cut on his chest and despite all of Joshua’s efforts, his sewing skills weren’t the best. He knew Pooh deserved a chance to look good and dapper in the eyes of his peers. So he found some cherry red fabric from the store across the street and kindly asked a friend, his caregiver at the time, to help him sew a shirt for the stuffed animals.

A few days later, Pooh was given a gift for his efforts, being a little cherry red shirt that covered his chest but left his belly open in the cutest way possible.

Joshua would muttered with a smile, “..silly old bear.”

As Joshua grew older, he became a bit colder than he expected to be but underneath that toughness, he was just as kind and loving as he used to be.

It just takes time for someone to see it, to listen and appreciate him for who he is. However to make sure he didn’t have his feelings hurt, he kept his guard up and watch his surroundings as much as possible. Which resulted in creating personas and short term alias with people he came across.

Some of alias came and went, but others stayed.

It’s how he met his first crush, Ginny Sullivan and her friends. Joshua was unsure of the girl and her two friends, so he decided to make himself an uneasy target and lie about himself.

He remembered he was rushing out of a store after stealing a small toy train, when he bumped into Ginny as she asked, “Woah, watch where you’re going, dummy.”

“So-sorry.” He said picking up his phone that fell on the ground.

“It’s cool. You’re in a rush?”

“More or less..”

“Where you headed?”

“Home.”

He left her on the streets alone until she crossed paths with the blonde girl again at the same spot. The second time, she stopped him, wanting to invite him out for a quick slice of pizza. He was 14 years old, he has nowhere else to be, no harm done right?

Wrong.

After that afternoon with Ginny, he grew to have a small crush on her. He never admitted it because he wasn’t interested in any relationship or anything, but he did regardless. She realized mid conversation she never asked him about his name, as Joshua blinked and said his name was Tim Robins.

And she surprisingly brought it.

Little did he know, Ginny was just using him to get something from the store across the street from the pizzeria. She wanted a pretty little bracelet from the back of the store. Because two weeks later of seeing each other, after a small date at McDonald’s, Ginny wanted to go to the store to buy some extra lipstick and Joshua shrugged deciding it would be a quick trip. He knew he wanted to sneak into that park on the other side of town later on, and she agreed to his request. Ginny grabbed her lipstick, an extra pair of sunglasses, a keychain and that cute little bracelet.

They were out of the store within a few minutes flat, sometime later the two of them were sitting lazily on the swings at the park, chatting and laughing. The two shared a small connection, with his parents always being busy and not having time for them (again, another lie on Joshua’s part), how they wished they could stop time and get a moment to breathe. Ginny smiled holding up the bracelet with a small chain of a flower on it, talking about how everyone is a flower and they just needed time to bloom.

Joshua felt that piece to his core and leaned in to kiss her cheek, taking Ginny by surprise as she pressed a small kiss to his cheek back.

However the moment was cut short, as two police officers found them, taking both teens to jail to be held overnight. Ginny lied saying it wasn’t her fault, that her “boyfriend wanted to treat her nice” as Joshua scoffed telling the officer the truth about what happened. That he had no idea that she stole the bracelet…

Let’s just say the next morning, Ginny didn’t talk to Joshua again and left the guy alone to take the blame. Once he got back to his foster parents, Joshua got a stern talking to and slapped for his actions, grounding him for a long period of time. Thankfully they didn’t press charges on the boy per say.

He climbed into his bed that day, laying down holding up Pooh and said, “Winnie, never fall for some dumb girl..she will just play you.”

He sighed to himself muttered, “..what am I doing? I barely go to school, don’t even bother to have friends..hell, I talk to my old stuff bear, no offense intended Pooh, I’m pathetic..”

“What does pathetic mean?” Said a tiny voice, who open the door to his bedroom with mousy brown hair, green eyes and wearing a blue dress.

His foster sister Darby, only 7 years old, who entered the room, allowing herself to sit on the bed without his permission to do so. Joshua just sighed and rolled his eyes at her explaining what the word meant as she nodded. She asked if he was in trouble and he just nodded.

“How long?” She asked pushing her bangs out of her face.

“No idea..” He answered with a sigh.

“..wh-so what are you gonna do now?”

“I don’t know. I’m screwed here..and I lied a lot about who I am..”

“Maybe you can find someone to tell you who you are?”

He scoffed, “Yeah right. The papers aren’t easy to find, Darb, I tried.”

“Well um…how about you make up a story?” She asked again digging her fingers into Pooh’s belly, “..like the drawings..”

“Like my drawings? Darb, I can’t just do that.”

“Yes you can! Like when you created those characters in your story like..um..Piglet, Tigger..and-and..”

“And Roo? The ones with Pooh I tell you about?”

She beamed and nodded, “Yes! Yes! Like the one where Pooh has a tea party with his friends and you invite me!”

He chuckled at that remebering that story, “I remember that. Pooh got his head stuck in a hole and his friends had to pull him out afterwards.”

“Yeah! You can do that!”

“..okay. Okay, I’ll bite, what would my name be?”

“I don’t know..”

Eventually he did figure it out. It took him a while, especially after his time with Darby’s parents were up, but he did. Joshua would spend time with his friends and the foster care workers, crafting little details of stories to tell one day in his book. He would sent the little drawings to the girl as she would write back in letter in appreciation for his stories.

He even wrote himself into the story as Carter Robins.

Of course, over the years after turning 15 and meeting his family, being his parents, aunts and uncles. Essentially spending some time Belladonna, finding his faith in people and understanding the truth to his history, he grew into changing the name.

He learned small details about his past experiences and hidden memories he had no idea about. Such as his full name, his skill set, his role in the world as peacekeeper among his friends and challenging his own thoughts on who he was meant to be.

It was nice yet difficult as his thoughts, opinions and feelings ate him away in confusion. He was always comparing himself to everyone else and wondered if he did belong there.

And he did. Because like anytime in Joshua’s life, it took time and patience to get to that point of acceptance in order to appreciate that account in his existence. As during an accidental encounter with Belladonna’s discoveries, two of them were sent back in time to the Enchanted Forest, before they were ever even considered ideas in their parent’s minds.

In order to get back and restore the small damage they done, the pair of friends had to go undercover as royals themselves. Thanks to Cole! Bella was not up for the challenge of disguising herself in some snarky little outfit in the beginning but as time passed she began to accept the plan.

Joshua took the lead during beginning of their trip, entering a Royal Ball (Princess Michelle’s party to where she would meet Rochelle for the first time) with Belladonna using fake names.

He announced them as Princess Leia Swan and used his middle name to refer to himself as Prince Christoper Robin.

——————

— The Eye Are Windows To The Soul 💫

Joshua's ability to perceive discern the intentions of others through his eyes is indeed a remarkable skill, one that sets him apart and adds depth to his character. His eyes serve as a mirror to the souls of those around him, reflecting their true nature and motivations with uncanny accuracy. Despite this extraordinary ability, Joshua remains humble and compassionate, using his gift for the greater good rather than personal gain.

His keen insight into human nature allows him to navigate complex social dynamics with ease, as he can see beyond surface appearances to uncover the underlying truths. Whether it's detecting deception or sensing genuine sincerity, Joshua's eyes serve as a guide in his interactions with others, offering him a unique perspective on the world.

One look into his eyes and you might as well served yourself a chance at being his friend or foe. It’s a pool of curiosity his eyes carry, that might even make the other wish they looked the opposite direction.

This skill not only enhances Joshua's ability to connect with people on a deeper level but also underscores his innate sense of empathy and understanding. By recognizing the complexities of human behavior, he is able to offer genuine compassion and support to those in need, making him a trusted confidant and ally to many.

In a world where words can often be misleading, Joshua's eyes stand as a beacon of honesty and authenticity, shining light on the darkness and illuminating the path towards truth and understanding.

————

— Overall Tale 📖

Joshua never thought himself as wanted, valued or respected enough to be cared for. As his journey from childhood to adolescence is marked by a profound sense of longing and displacement, coupled with moments of resilience and self-discovery.

Despite growing up in various foster homes and experiencing the transient nature of relationships, he finds solace in the companionship of his cherished stuffed bear, Winnie the Pooh. Pooh becomes more than just a toy; he is a constant source of comfort and a silent confidant in Joshua's tumultuous world.

Throughout his teenage years, Joshua grapples with a sense of identity and belonging, often feeling like an outsider looking in. He struggles to reconcile his desire for connection with his fear of rejection, leading him to adopt personas and aliases as a form of self-preservation. Despite his attempts to shield himself from hurt, he remains inherently kind-hearted and compassionate, traits that define his character amidst the chaos of adolescence.

Joshua's journey is also marked by pivotal encounters and moments of self-reflection. His brief but meaningful connection with Ginny Sullivan offers a glimpse of vulnerability and yearning beneath his guarded exterior. However, it also serves as a reminder of the complexities of human relationships and the importance of trust and authenticity.

As he navigates the challenges of adolescence, Joshua discovers the power of storytelling and creativity as a means of self-expression and healing. His alter ego, Christopher Robin, becomes a conduit for his imagination and a way to explore his own identity in a safe and nurturing environment.

Yes it will take time, however he is willing to take a step forward and make himself known to the people around him that he’s here to stay.

———

———

Ahh wow that was a lot! Sorry if it was long (i might add more stuff later you knows?)

Anyways please let me know what you think in the comments bellow, let’s chat!

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @haleripley @starkleila @cherrysft @mandylove1000 @yetanotherwells @topgun-imagines @buckysteveloki-me @sherloquestea @nakiaswg @carellmcu @ximehs and etc

#disney oc #ouat ocs #child oc #oc x oc #oc x oc rp #oc intro #fantasy au #ouat au #christopher robin #winnie the pooh #oc: winnie #pooh bear #once upon a time

[wordsvomit101]

10. Hidden envy

(1 year after the death of Mr and Mrs Lee)

Overwhelmed by a sudden surge of rage and disdain, Sebastián could only tackle Alexander to the ground, his fists becoming vessels for the tumultuous emotions he had repressed throughout his life. Each blow carried with it a cacophony of hatred, guilt, fear, and a twisted semblance of love, unleashed upon his older twin brother. Tears, unnoticed, traced jagged paths down his face, mingling with the sweat and blood that adorned his visage.

"Always by my side?! Pray, what knowledge do you possess?! How will it benefit us?! All this time, I've merely collected remnants left in your wake! Abandoned to the shadows despite my hopeless endeavors to rise to the zenith of your favor!"

His words, laced with bitterness, echoed in the dimly lit chamber as he dragged Alexander to his feet, forcefully propelling him across the room until he collided with a sturdy table. The impact shattered the once-sturdy surface, sending a cascade of porcelain and shattered wood to the floor. Violent and primal, reminiscent of a savage beast unleashed from the confines of civilization.

"Even if I dedicate nights and days to study until I collapse from exhaustion! Even if my ideas and solutions surpass yours! Even if I imbue every ounce of grace into my very being! Even if I train diligently each day in hopes of earning but a passing glance from them! Nothing come close to you!"

Each word, dripping with venom, served as a relentless push, propelling Alexander perilously closer to the edge of the balcony. Sebastián's mind danced with the image of the accusations that would undoubtedly follow - accusations of harming the future king, staining his reputation irreparably.

With a fervor bordering on madness, Sebastián tightened his grip on Alexander's throat, his gaze locked with his brother's steady, unwavering stare. The sickening thrill of dominance mingled with perverse satisfaction as he witnessed the great future king, revered by all, reduced to a vulnerable state before him. He relished the moment, reveling in the power he held over his superior, even as his own inner turmoil threatened to consume him.

"Ah, so you still possess the fortitude for mercy even in light of my treacherous act. I am sorely tempted to end you if you grant me this opportunity", Sebastián's voice, tinged with malice, carried a weight that threatened to crush them both. His fingers dug deeper into Alexander's flesh, a silent testament to the depths of his fury. Yet, despite the violence of his actions, Alexander remained steadfast, his gaze unyielding.

"Act swiftly - no, simply depose him - Cease your indecision - He is my counterpart - Indeed, the king has already granted me this chance-" Sebastián's thoughts faltered, the weight of his own words crashing down upon him with sudden clarity.

"..."

"...What a distasteful display of behavior on my part", he murmured, the bitter taste of remorse lingering on his tongue. In that moment of self-reflection, Sebastián glimpsed the twisted image that his parents, the king and queen, must see when they looked upon him - a monstrous aberration, unworthy of their love or acceptance.

His grip on Alexander's throat slackened, the intensity of his rage giving way to a quiet resignation.

"... I've grown weary of this foolishness", As he turned to leave, Sebastián found himself ensnared by the firm grasp of the silent figure behind him. He braced himself, steeling his resolve as he awaited his brother's inevitable reprimand, too exhausted to summon even a shred of defiance.

As Minhyeok scrolls the mouse, eager to read more of the story, he finds himself disappointed when it abruptly ends at that part.

"Hm? Is that all, Raon?" He shifts his gaze from the laptop to the girl sitting beside him, noticing her nervous demeanor as her hands fidget with uncertainty. She averts her gaze from his, hesitating before finally speaking up.

"Is... Is it okay?" Her question catches him off guard. After beta reading 40 chapters of her story before she uploaded it to the publishing website for original fiction over the past 3 months, he couldn't get used to her low standard for the quality of her work. He might not be an avid reader like his brother, but he recognizes good storytelling when he sees it.

"Honestly, it's great! Your character development is spot on. I felt like I knew each character personally, you know? Like, they were real people," he offers his thoughts sincerely, knowing a simple "it's good" wouldn't do justice to her efforts.

"And your worldbuilding in these last 5 chapters? It's detailed and vivid. I could imagine every architectural marvel and court intrigue of the kingdom. It felt like I was right there alongside the characters, exploring every corner of it," he continues, noticing Raon's demeanor brighten with each word he speaks. Her smile grows, and her posture straightens as she absorbs his praise.

"Well, I did spend a lot of time researching," she admits modestly, her confidence visibly boosted by his compliments.

"You've also shown remarkable improvement since the first chapters. The pacing and plot twists kept me thoroughly engaged, with subtle hints sprinkled throughout that make it worth a second read," he observes, knowing she's been paying closer attention in their English and social studies classes. He wonders if she'd be interested in exploring drama as an elective course.

"She's always had a knack for English and picking up foreign languages on her own, so she'd excel in any elective related to language arts," he thinks to himself. The real question is whether she'd want to further develop her skills.

"Let's table that discussion for another time. We have a story to discuss," he redirected his focus back to Raon's writing.

He looks at Raon again, who seems to be contemplating something, her gaze fixed on her laptop screen while he ponders. Yet, there's an unfamiliar tension in the air this time. Usually, her stare carries a solemn weight, but not today.

"Why did you stop there? Hitting a writing block?" He asks, noting the rarity of such an occurrence. Raon is usually brimming with ideas, whether she's typing away on her laptop or scribbling in her journals.

"...," Her silence is a bit disconcerting, especially with the absence of her usual smug expression. Instead, her face is etched with an unknown guilt. He's about to inquire further when she finally speaks up, her voice slow and hesitant.

"I... can't seem to think of how Alexander would deal with Sebastián."

Raon's fingers fiddle with the keyboard, her gaze distant.

"I want him to punish his brother for what he has done, for him to learn to hate Sebastián, but... all I can envision is him showing kindness towards his twin. I don't recognize my character anymore..."

Huh, Alexander, the noble and kind future king, the protagonist of her story. He finds himself relating more to the character than he realized. The man who's been taught to be generous and compassionate since childhood, blessed with talent and divine power bestowed upon him by the gods of his world. Yet, he's also both courageous and fearful in his opinions.

"He's brave for extending kindness to everyone, yet he's afraid of disappointing those around him, fearing he might become like his brother," he muses aloud, sensing there's more to it.

"I think it's will be love in the end," he adds, surprising Raon with his insight.

"That... is an interesting perspective," Raon responds, her confusion evident. How could someone still harbor love for a person who's caused them so much pain?

It's understandable in a way, but love isn't always logical, especially when it's for family.

"Even I wouldn't be able to cast away my love for my other half, who knows my worst and my best like the back of their hand for my whole life," he says softly, noticing the hitch in Raon's breath beside him.

It almost reminds him of the time he was envious of his older brother and despite causing all the messes for his sibling. Never once has his older brother grown to at least hate him for being an annoyance.

"Perhaps Alexander... could sees beyond just the hurt and betrayal. He sees the brother he grew up with, the one who shared his joys and sorrows. Despite all the bad, there's still... a glimmer of the boy he once knew within Sebastián. The chance for atonement”

"I... I guess I have yet to look at it that way", she looks like she doesn't enjoy the idea of it but she at least considered it. There is a silence between them as they muse in their thoughts.

"Not even I understand my love for you despite all that talk", he doesn't say it but instead says what his mom told him when he confided to her years ago.

"Love is complicated, isn't it? Eomma said it makes us flawed and hopeful all at once."

#what in hell is bad #whb #whb minhyeok #whb mc #whb oc #finally got around to writing it #it took 3 exams #1 crying session #and self-reflecting time on my own to make me write this #it was a roller coaster and it was worth it #just edited in my better version of raon's fiction in another draft so uh #yeah ignore the first one #Is it a self-insert? Idk but I’m for sure don’t relate to Raon when I think of her pov

[queenlucythevaliant]

🪆

I would love a good dark poem.

--Rain on Main

Okay, this is maybe my favorite really bleak Russian poem. It's called "In the Bottomless Pit," but there's this tinge of hope in it that just makes the whole thing work so well. Anyway, I hope you appreciate:

In the Bottomless Pit In memory of Alexander Blok and Nikolay Gumilyov Day by day more brutal and more savage, deathly horror holds the night in thrall. Putrid winds extinguish lives like candles. No more strength to scream, to help, to call. Dark the destiny of Russian writers and inscrutable the roads they trod: Pushkin stood before a dueling pistol, Dostoevsky faced the firing squad. I shall draw my lot and know my fortune, bitter Russia, fierce infanticide. I may slip on blood outside the dungeon, or I may perish wretchedly inside; but your Golgotha I never will abandon, and your graves shall never be denied. Whether slain by hunger or by hatred-- I shall choose no other lot instead: if we die, then let us die together and arise like Lazarus from the dead.

--Maximilian Voloshin

#i just. this moves me so deeply #so many russian writers led deeply tragic lives #and it was an actively dangerous occupation during the era when this was written #and yet -- how can a russian writer be but what he is? #isn't it good company to keep - whatever the cost? #to number among the ranks of Pushkin and Dostoyevsky and Blok and now Gumilyov #to suffer and to die and to wait for resurrection #it's a link of martyrdom for artistic truth and integrity ya know? #and a love of country that looks straight at all the evil it perpetrates #i don't love the gulags but i love pushkin and so i will not renounce my heritage #etc etc #i just adore thus #thanks for giving me the oppurtunity to share it #russia where are you flying to? #ask me hard questions #martyr club

[alexanderlightweight]

More manipulative Magnus pretty pretty please? It was so great!

ask and ye shall recieve, especially because this verse is quite fun. also @saethss is helping me name fics/verses so it's easier to figure out and going to create a post for it.

it's now called the price of lust

NSFW/DDDNE

lumine

-

Magnus can’t resist with such a perfect opening, revealing itself to him and Alexander has spoken the words of an old ritual. Divine in nature and something Magnus can reciprocate, because his father is one of the Fallen.

“Would you like that, Alexander?” Magnus asks with a smirk, “would you like being mine?”

Alexander nods, panting heavily as his hands scrabble against the wood flood. Magnus tuts, because that’s not enough if he wants this to work.  He pinches Alexander’s nipples and kisses him, sucking in a frost-tinged breath of air as he slams them through time without a portal and they fall into his bed.

Alexander moans, arching under Magnus’ greedy, cruel fingers that are tugging on his nipples. He hardly seems to notice the change in scenery except that his fingers clench in silk and Magnus gets to feel how his feet scrabble and slip as he bucks up against Magnus’ body. There’s a desperation in his movements but he has nowhere to go, and Magnus vanishes their clothing, grinding down with a dark chuckle of delight.

He releases a nipple and instead, nips it with his teeth, earning a little yelp and a shuddering protest of his name.  Alexander grows bolder the moment Magnus’ dry, smooth hand wraps around his cock.  His hands bury themselves in Magnus’ hair and he keens, a desperate obscene noise that Magnus forces him to make again and again.

Alexander is hoarse when Magnus is done playing with him, pleased with the tuning of his new instrument. He fondles Alexander’s soaked cock, thumb playing with his leaking slit and mouthing at Alexander’s nipple until it’s bruised and swollen on his tongue.

It’s when he feels Alexander’s balls, heavy and swollen and tightening that he uses a quick twist of his fingers to bind Alexander’s cock with magic.

It’s a pretty ring, platinum with ocean opals and it keeps his boy from coming in a tight, cruel embrace.

“Magnus, wha— what are you doing?” His boy gasps out, a pained whine breaking free from his mouth. “What did you do, Magnus. Please, undo it.”

“Oh.”  Magnus marvels, “don’t you beg so prettily darling. How I’m going to destroy you.”

Alexander shudders under his hands and Magnus bites at his jaw, scrapping his teeth in a harsh line down the arching tendons of his boy’s throat.

“Now don’t be greedy darling, as much as I’d love to make you come as many times as you’d like, we do have a deal.  I’m simply helping you built your energy so I can harvest it, it’s not the act of sex but of intimacy that I need from you. I suppose that in the end, I wouldn’t even need to fuck you.”

“Magnus, you’ll fuck me. Right?” Alexander is trying to sound demanding; his legs bend and wrap around Magnus. He’s like a hungry anaconda and his heels tuck tightly around Magnus’ waist and his hands tight in Magnus’ hair. “Please, Magnus don’t make me do this and not fuck me. Please.”

“Oh, treasure.” Magnus croons and he kisses Alexander with a tenderness he thought burned away in Edom. “You don’t have to beg me for that, no matter how pretty you sound. I’d be a fool to let you get away from me without tasting you completely. I only wanted to give you a choice, Alexander. You’ve had so little of those today.”

The barbed comment hits true and Alexander whines, pressing his lips to Magnus’ cheek to hide from the reality he’s being forced to face.

Magnus chuckles, pulling away to mockingly lick Alexander’s lips and then slaps his boy’s flank with a wicked smirk.

“Turn around, darling. Let me see you.”

There’s a flush of pink across broad shoulders and up a runed neck and the tips of Alexander’s ears. Magnus is charmed by it and coos, hand trailing magic to loosen Alexander’s muscles and purify him as Magnus admires him.

“My pretty boy,” Magnus praises and he sits high on Alexander’s shoulders, his knees keeping Alexander’s arms pressed to his sides. He spreads his Alexander’s cheeks and spits on his boy’s hole, chuckling when Alexander whines, his hole clenching as if begging for Magnus’ touch.

The rest of Magnus’ glamour drops and his clawed fingers pierce his boy’s ass in a constellation of pinpricks. Magnus’ tongue lengthens and he licks over Alexander’s hole, letting the rasp of his tongue abuse the sensitive rim.

Alexander writhes away and then back to him as if he can’t pick whether Magnus’ tongue is pleasure or torment.

“Magnus please, please let me come. Please, sir.”

Magnus pauses in surprise, a clawless finger playing with Alexander’s hole as his tongue presses deep inside. He pulls back with slick slide of his tongue and adds a second finger to keep him full. 

When he looks back his boy is throwing a look over his own shoulder, eyes glassy with unshed tears that Magnus is going to drink from the hollows of his eyes.

“Oh, aren’t you precocious.” Magnus coos, because he knows exactly what his boy is trying. “My clever Alexander, but darling. Did you really think that would be enough to make me change my mind? I want something from you sweetheart, and I’m not going to stop until I get it. You’ll survive a little play until I’m finished.”

Magnus considers Alexander for a moment, his desperate pout and the dark pleading in his eyes, as if he would offer to murder a thousand souls if only Magnus deigned to give him pleasure.

“However, if you’re so eager to bring hierarchy into our bed, then I suppose I’ll just have to discipline you. After all, you’re distracting me and I have a very important deal to finish.”

Alexander mewls at the first strike of Magnus’ palm to his ass and his hole clenches greedily around Magnus’ fingers and Magnus slaps him again.

“Magnus—” he groans, and Magnus can’t see him.  His gaze is focused on Alexander’s ass and the pretty pink and red shades Magnus is painting him with, but he can hear how Alexander’s head hits the pillows.  Can feel the buck of his entire body with every crack of Magnus’ palm against the muscles of his ass. Magnus presses at his prostate and Alexander thrashes, as if he thinks he can buck Magnus off.

“Please don’t, Magnus. Please don’t do all of this and not let me come. Magnus, I can’t. I’ve never done this, please sir.”

“Is it sir, or Magnus?” Magnus asks calmly, because he doesn’t mind either at this very moment, but he likes the worship of his name on Alexander’s tongue more than simply being acknowledged as his superior.

He cracks his hand across Alexander’s right cheek, admiring the print he leaves there and bending down to let the small barbs of his tongue rasp across the swollen flesh. Alexander is going to accept what Magnus gives him and he’s going to be obedient, because Magnus doesn’t mind his boy acting up when they’re done. But Magnus has a very small portal of opportunity and he’s not going to risk messing it up.

“Magnus—" Alexander begs, just as desperately as he’d begged to come and for Magnus to stop spanking his ass. “Magnus.”

“There’s my good boy.” Magnus tells him, shushing him with soft kisses along his spine as he works a third finger into Alexander. “There you are, I have you darling.” 

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