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burningvelvet · 5 months

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Why Mr. Rochester and Bertha Mason Couldn't Get a Legal Separation; or, the Utter Madness of Marital Laws

So I saw a Jane Eyre post discussing why Mr. Rochester and Bertha Mason couldn't get a legal marital separation. I've thought a lot about this topic, and in order to procrastinate writing the final for my upper-level Brontë class, I've decided to write this sort of convoluted analysis instead. I know many others have written about this subject, but I wanted to explore a bit further on my own.

Preliminary context about me, the Brontës, their Byronic inspiration, etc.: I've learned a lot about 19th century British marriage laws recently in my classes on old British literature, as well as by having studied Byron, whose marital separation in 1816 was a notorious part of his history & also reverberated through 19c literature. He refers to this separation in many of his works, most famously in his notorious poem "Fare Thee Well." Harriet Beecher Stowe, the most famous American female writer at the time, was friends with Lady Byron and wrote a book defending her called "Lady Byron Vindicated: A history of the Byron controversy from its beginning in 1816 to the present time" (the original callout post).

Insanity accusations did factor in to Byron's separation. Many scholars have remarked how the Queens of Byronic Criticism, the Brontë sisters, took significant inspiration from their well-worn copy of Moore's biography Life of Byron when creating their works. The Brontës would have been very familiar with marriage laws not only due to their knowledge of Byron's trainwreck of a marriage, but also due to being well-educated women at the time who knew that marriage was the most important economic decision of one's life and could very well make or break a person. As a result, marriage plays a significant role in their novels.

More relevant preliminary context about the novel: Jane Eyre actually takes place in the Georgian era, despite most adaptations and anaysis presenting is as a Victorian piece due to the novels publication date (this drives me crazy; same goes for the other Brontë books). Marriage laws did not change drastically from the time the novel is set to the time Brontë was writing the novel, but things were a bit different socially. Rochester was also married 15 years before his attempt to marry Jane. According to this very good analysis, Rochester and Bertha probably married in or around the year 1793: https://jane-eyre.guidesite.co.uk/timeline.

Now, here are the reasons why Rochester couldn't separate from Bertha:

1) Insanity wasn't grounds for divorce/separation in the Regency era.

Rochester himself says that he couldn't legally separate from her because of her insanity, which presumably rendered any of her faults null on the grounds of that marital vow "in sickness and in health." This is possibly one of his biggest reasons:

"I was rich enough now – yet poor to hideous indigence: a nature the most gross, impure, depraved I ever saw, was associated with mine, and called by the law and by society a part of me. And I could not rid myself of it by any legal procedings: for the doctors now discovered that my wife was mad — her excesses had prematurely developed the germs of insanity [..]"

2) Divorce was nearly impossible anyway.

There had only been around 300 divorces in English history at the time. Almost all of them were husbands divorcing their wives for committing adultery. Only a handful of divorces had succesfully been obtained by women, and they were only in cases where the husband had committed incestuous adultery or bigamy, and was extremely physically cruel. So technically after his bigamy attempt, Bertha may have had more grounds to obtain a divorce than Rochester would have, if only she were lucid enough to do so. However, in that scenario infertility would have helped their case, and Adèle's existence would have harmed their case if he attempted to seek a divorce before marrying Jane. Though as the novel explains, Adèle is probably not his, she definitely would have been used against him, as would the fact that he kept Bertha's existence a secret in England. But he wouldn't have tried for divorce that late in the game anyway, considering it was one of the most difficult options.

3) Female adultery was your best bet at divorce or separation, and this probably wasn't applicable to Mr. & Mrs. Rochester.

Although some scholars claim that there is subtext hinting that Bertha was adulterous (which some adaptations, like the 2006, include), you needed substantial proof of the adultery, which Rochester may not have had if it did occur. Being a proud man, he also wouldn't have wanted to be humiliated in that way by letting it be publicly known (as shame is one of his main reasons for hiding their marriage to begin with).

However, I lean toward the idea that Bertha may not have committed adultery. If she definitively did, seeing how affected Rochester was by Céline cheating on him (he shot her lover in revenge and left her with a stipend), if he ever suspected adultery on Bertha's part then I'm sure he would have been at court the very next day. I also think Rochester tries not to be too much of a hypocrite, and he is well aware that he himself is an adulterer, so he probably doesn't want to accuse Bertha of a crime he's committed and which he couldn't definitively prove she did.

Rochester does talk about hating Bertha's "vices" when they lived together, citing drinking, arguing, cruelty to servants, cursing, her being "unchaste," a "harlot," etc. - the last epithets, combined with her supposed lack of morality, and her being described as seductive, heavily imply that adultery could be added to her list of offenses. However, if she did truly cheat on him as well, I don't see why he wouldn't plainly tell this to Jane as well. I would imagine it would be his first complaint, and it would probably be considered his most justifiable reason against her by their cultural standards.

I don't see why he wouldn't jump to take Bertha's infidelity as an opportunity to defend his own actions, considering how open he is with Jane about his own adultery and being cheated on by Cèline Varens. While I can see how some of the textual evidence may strongly suggest Bertha's adultery, we cannot be fully certain, and that may be because Rochester himself is not fully certain. I cannot see why he wouldn't have sought legal advice on that account alone.

In short, if Bertha was an adulterer, there must have been no evidence to convict her.

Also: while the double-standard may seem odd and trivial to us, the reason why female adultery held more weight than male adultery has entirely to due with old patriarchal inheritance laws; i.e the risk of a wife getting extramaritally pregnant and passing the illegitimate child off as her husband's heir was considered too great of an affront. A man could have as many bastards as he wanted because he would know they were bastards and were not at risk of inheriting his stuff. One needed legitimate heirs to justify passing on one's ancestral wealth to. Essentially, marriage was a mere economic tool, and the economy was and is inherently patriarchal. I digress.

4) Rochester's lack of social & economic leverage, and risk of social ruin in general.

Only the wealthiest of the wealthy could obtain divorce or official separation, and it often led to social ruin. Rochester is rich, but he has no title and no great network of supporters due to being a younger son and having been abroad for most of the past 15 years (this was the length of his marriage to Bertha, stated by Mr. Briggs during the bigamous wedding attempt). He doesn't have as much leverage as Lord and Lady Byron had.

To continue on official separation, like Lady and Lord Byron obtained. Just like divorce, this was also a messy and scandalous legal proceeding, and required numerous good reasons to obtain, and being well-connected Lords and Ladies really helped your case. You also needed many witnesses and written statements as evidence. Bertha's family, as we see with Mason, would have been unhelpful to Rochester, and due to his shame and secrecy, no one could really testify on his behalf I'm assuming.

5) Unofficial separation would have been inconvenient, especially in regards to living situations.

Aside from divorce, which was extremely rare, extremely controversial, and only for the wealthiest members of society — there were unofficial and official separations. An unofficial separation was simply living apart from one another. I've often wondered why Rochester didn't simply move Grace Poole and Bertha somewhere else, but my main theory is that it would have been cost ineffective, and due to his family who were implied to be shitty, he probably really didn't want to live at Thornfield anyway so thought it would be convenient to place her there. Rochester says it would be dangerous to place her in his other residence of Ferndean:

"[..] though I possess an old house, Ferndean Manor, even more retired and hidden than this, where I could have lodged her safely enough, had not a scruple about the unhealthiness of the situation, in the heart of a wood, made my conscience recoil from the arrangement. Probably those damp walls would soon have eased me of her charge: but to each villain his own vice; and mine is not a tendency to indirect assassination, even of what I most hate."

6) Annulment was likely impossible given their circumstances.

Annulment means evaporating the marriage, acting as if it never existed, that it was a mistake. This was rare and only granted in unique circumstances, and I believe it was more common with aristocracy and royals. I believe you could possibly get an annulment if you could prove that the spouse was insane at the time of the wedding and you did not know. However, Bertha did not begin to truly deteriorate until after they had been living together for a bit. And while Rochester says that he did not know her mother was in an asylum until after the wedding, having an insane mother doesn't mean that you are insane, which Bertha clearly wasn't at that point, at least not in a way that people would have publicly acknowledged, since Rochester says she attended parties and her hand was highly sought after.

Generally, the longer a marriage had gone on, the harder it was to prove why it could not go on. Rochester says that he and Bertha "lived together" for "four years" in Jamaica while her condition deteriorated and he tried to make things work. And again, after the wedding he found out her mother was "mad, and shut up in a lunatic asylum." So we have more reasons for Rochester's difficulty: the fear of Bertha going to an asylum while she was still mostly lucid in those first four years, combined with the fact that they openly lived together and certainly must have consummated their marriage (things which would further prevent annulment), and were certainly publicly recognized as a couple in Spanish Town society, and her family wanting the marriage to continue so she could have children of "good race" i.e. to produce heirs.

Here's an important passage that to me suggests that Rochester and Bertha not only had an initial flirtation but likely consummated their marriage, likely had a passionate sexual relationship for some time, and likely implies his feelings for her were more complex than we'd initially assume, making annulment not so clear-cut of an option to him at the time:

"My father said nothing about her money; but he told me Miss Mason was the boast of Spanish Town for her beauty: and this was no lie. I found her a fine woman, in the style of Blanche Ingram; tall, dark, and majestic. Her family wished to secure me because I was of a good race; and so did she. They showed her to me in parties, splendidly dressed. I seldom saw her alone, and had very little private conversation with her. She flattered me, and lavishly displayed for my pleasure her charms and accomplishments. All the men in her circle seemed to admire her and envy me. I was dazzled, stimulated: my senses were excited; and being ignorant, raw, and inexperienced, I thought I loved her. There is no folly so besotted that the idiotic rivalries of society, the prurience, the rashness, the blindness of youth, will not hurry a man to its commission. Her relatives encouraged me; competitors piqued me; she allured me: a marriage was achieved almost before I knew where I was. Oh, I have no respect for myself when I think of that act! — an agony of inward contempt masters me. I never loved, I never esteemed, I did not even know her."

7) Spousal abandonment wasn't possible, and on some level he honored his legal and financial obligations to her and the Mason family.

Bertha's family likely refused to house her for legal and personal reasons, and spousal abandonment was forbidden due to the husband's financial responsibility as well as the law of coverture (a wife became her husband's full legal responsibility; some say "property"). Like we see in Anne's Tenant of Wildfell Hall, if a woman ran away from their spouse they would have to live in obscurity and be at risk of being sussed out. You couldn't just abandon your partner. Still, people did, because it was the easiest route to take.

But the more upper-class you were, and the more financial entanglements you had, the more inconvenient this was. We know that Rochester and his family became enmeshed with the Mason family, and he got a lot of money from Bertha, so her father likely would have taken him to court. At any rate, Rochester was legally bound to bring Bertha with him to England when he left Jamaica. If he attempted to abandon her in Jamaica, the backlash it would have brought would have brought him social ruin and foiled his chances at getting away with any bigamy attempts.

All this brings us to a further notice of Bertha's family situation. Based on Charlotte Brontë's positive comments about Rochester's character (https://www.tumblr.com/burningvelvet/731403104856195072/in-a-letter-to-w-s-williams-14-august-1848) I see no reason to suspect him, like many feminist critics do, of being an unreliable narrator or of lying about Bertha Mason's history. Everyone is entitled to their opinions, and in mine, that is simply not the novel Charlotte wrote. By her own admission, she wanted his narrative to be a path to further goodness.

It makes no narrative sense for our explanation of his and Bertha's history to be full of lies when he's trying to make ammends with Jane, who never suspects him of lying during his admission, but who does critique him and figure he'd tire of her like she was one of his many mistresses. Jane wonders if Rochester would lock her in an attic too, which he refutes on the basis that he loves her more than he loved Bertha when she was sane, and so he would care for Jane himself. Jane also tells him that it's not Bertha's fault that she's mad. So in my opinion, if Charlotte wanted us to believe Rochester was lying about his and Bertha's history to make himself look better or Bertha look worse, I don't see why she would have been vague about it, and I don't see why Jane wouldn't have called it out like she does everything else. I don't think Rochester is really a villain who locked his harmless wife in the attic for giggles; I think he weighed most of his options and found, like most people back then and even today, that keeping his problems locked up and ignored was the best solution.

Now, on with the point. I have often wondered why Rochester didn't simply "unofficially separate" from Bertha by leaving her with her family when he left. Why did he take her to England? Why didn't he just run away? It wasn't because he was an evil villain who wanted to keep her as a trophy. It's because 1) I don't think her father would have let him, as he was so quick to marry her off, 2) he felt obligated to her, and 3) it was criminal for men to abandon their wives, and it would have attracted publicity, which is what Rochester was avoiding by taking Bertha to England and sheltering her in secrecy.

Many claim that Rochester's adultery is a betrayal of his wife; and while religiously, narratively, socially, we can accept this statement, it was not legally a crime. While Rochester does honor his financial and legal obligations to his wife and her family, he does not take the religious part of the vows into account, and that's why he's cosmically punished and only rewarded after he repents, as he explains toward the end of the novel.

Another interesting point is that when Rochester recounts his decision to move back to England, he tells us that Bertha had already been declared insane in Jamaica and that she was already confined there (presumably around the 4 year anniversary before they left), meaning her father probably knew about confinement:

"One night I had been awakened by her yells (since the medical men had pronounced her mad, she had of course been shut up) — it was a fiery West Indian night; [..]"

Locking away "insane" people was standard procedure then, and if this was done with Bertha's father's knowledge, considering he locked his own wife away in an asylum, then this further absolves Rochester of a lot of the blame in my opinion. It more than likely wasn't his idea to lock her away, but the advice of "the medical men" and presumably her father's consultation as well.

8) Even if he divorced or separated from her, he couldn't remarry. Attempting these, or getting caught attempting abandonment, would have brought negative publicity that would have likely prevented the success of any future bigamy attempts. To him, secrecy and bigamy seemed better chances at securing happiness than the social ruin and likely failure the other options would have brought him.

Aside from Rochester's own explanation (which I supplied in #2 re: the separation veto inherent to Bertha's insanity), the other biggest reason as to why Rochester wouldn't seek a separation/divorce even if she hadn't been declared insane and even if he were willing to accuse her of adultery truthfully or not, is due to the fact that one could not legally remarry upon separation or divorce (unless you were Henry VIII and got God's permission lol). Rochester's impossible dream is that he wants to be married to someone he really loves, and if secrecy and bigamy are his only options then he is willing to succumb; this is shown in numerous passages:

"[..] I could reform — I have strength yet for that — if— but where is the use of thinking of it, hampered, burdened, cursed as I am? Besides, since happiness is irrevocably denied me, I have a right to get pleasure out of life: and I will get it, cost what it may."

"I will keep my word: I will break obstacles to happiness, to goodness — yes, goodness; I wish to be a better man than I have been; than I am — as Job's leviathan broke the spear, the dart, and the habergeon, hinderances which others count as iron and brass, I will esteem but straw and rotten wood."

"Is there not love in my heart, and constancy in my resolves? It will expiate at God's tribunal. I know my Maker sanctions what I do. For the world's judgment — I wash my hands thereof. For man's opinion — I defy it."

Closing remarks on the above's validity: I can't cite all my sources because a lot of this stuff I learned from lectures via my professor who specializes in 19th century English literature & history. But here's some recently published information from a historian, taken from "Inside the World of Bridgerton: True Stories of Regency High Society" by Catherine Curzon (2023):

"And if you were one of the newly-weds, you really did hope things would work out, because in the Regency till death do us part wasn't just an expression. As the Prince Regent himself had learned when he separated from his wife within eighteen months of their marriage, obtaining a divorce in Regency England was no easy matter. He never achieved it, and for those who did the stakes could be high and the cost ruinous in every sense."

"Until the passing of the Matrimonial Causes Act of 1857, which legalized divorce in the civil courts, it was governed by the ecclesiastical courts, and the Church didn't end a marriage without very, very good reason. Even these divorces didn't allow a couple to remarry, though, and they were more akin to what we would today call a legal separation, with no shared legal or financial responsibilities going forward. It was freedom, but only to a point."

"The only way to obtain a complete dissolution that allowed for remarriage was to secure a parliamentary divorce, and these were notoriously difficult to obtain. They began with a criminal conversation case, because they relied on adultery by one of the parties to make them even a slight possibility. If a woman committed crim. con., her life in polite society was over."

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botnasty · 5 months

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Part Four: No More Theory

Roommate!Bucky Barnes X F!Reader

Summary: Gone are the theories...

Words: 1,2K words

Warnings: ANGST, THIS IS ANGST CITY, then fluffy cheesiness :)

Note: All mistakes are mine and please tell me if I’m missing any warnings. Also sorry on the wait for this part, completely had a writers block.

Not proofread

Series Masterlist

Laying in bed, you never felt more defeated in your life. Your mind was screaming at you for being stupid for thinking what you and Bucky had was exclusive. You couldn’t be mad at him for going after someone else tonight, you two never talked and made what you had/did more than what it really was: two friends having fun without any feelings. You didn’t want to believe it, but what happened today at the Halloween party made you open your eyes. You were just his friend with benefits.

You whipped the tears falling on your damp cheeks and pulled the duvet closer to you. You didn’t know how tomorrow was going to be fairing, but one thing for sure is, you were going to stop whatever that was happening between you two before you got hurt. Never once had you let a man hurt you before, it won’t start now.

You picked up your phone from the bedside table and you could see so many texts. 25 from Natasha, 3 from Sam, but none from the person that mattered the most. Whatever, he was probably busy with that girl. In your mind, you hoped she was taking good care of him, but your hurt was aching. Why did you have to screw your friendship with that “Theory” bullshit?

You closed your lamp and purged you into the peaceful darkness that is sleep - when the door opened. Only one other person other than you had the keys to the apartment and - because you didn’t want to deal with it right now - you fastly put your head on your pillow and closed your eyes, trying your hardest to regulate your breathing as you could hear footsteps coming closer.

“Toots?” Bucky whispered. “Are you awake?” The footsteps stopped. Why was it so hard to breathe normally in his presence?

You felt a slight touch on your cheeks. “My beautiful, beautiful, toots.” You could feel his breath on your forehead and the slight touch of his lips on your nose. “Wake up.” He said softly. You didn’t want to. You feared what you were going to say or do if you did. A kiss on your forehead. “Wake up, beautiful.” On your eyelid - which you couldn’t help but move. “Come back to me, toots.” And lastly on your lips before you couldn’t take it anymore. Your eyes felt like burning from holding your tears.

You slowly opened them. He was kneeled down right at the side of the bed. Just his smile alone made you want to just forget it happened and continue whatever it is you had. You waked and pulled yourself into a sitting position, pulling your cover closer to you like it was some sort of shield for your emotions. You almost jumped when he cupped your jaw and kissed your forehead. “I missed you, toots.” You looked at the clock, it hadn’t even been 2h since you left the party.

“I’ve only been gone for 2 hours, Bucky. I’m sure you would’ve been able to find more important people to spend your night with.” You rubbed your eyes to remove any trace that you were about to cry. Not in front of him. Never.

“Toots, look at me.” You placed your hand down your lap and looked at him, his eyes were still bloodshot from all the weed he had taken during the party. “I love you.” Your heart exploded. It was not what you expected and you were mad. How dare him.

How dare him!

Fucking flirting and using the same technic he did on you with someone else not even a few hours before he said those words to you. What a fucking fraud of a man you were living with. You fought yourself to scoff at his words.

He placed his forehead on yours. “I love you a whole lot. That’s why I can’t bear not being in the same room as you. You make everything so much better, you know.” Now that was just high person talk.

You let out a small smile. “Come sleep, Bucky. You are high right now and are saying a bunch of bullshit. It’s time for you to sleep.” You went from your bed to drag him to your room. You wouldn’t let him sleep in yours when you barely could stand him right now.

But Bucky didn’t move one bit.

“You don’t believe me…” Is what he said almost to yourself.

Now the scoff escaped your mouth. “No I do not, Bucky. For so many reasons.”

He got up and tried to get close to you, but you stopped him with your hand.” First, you are high. And you know how you get when you are high. You ramble about things over and over, tell everyone you love them and you hug them. So, this certainly doesn't make me special.”

“You know—”

“Second, we never established what we had. All we do is fuck. Sure, you sometimes kiss me, we cuddle, but we never specify what’s going on between us.”

“I thought it was—”

“And last, you were literally flirting and using that ‘theory’ bullshit on someone else two hours ago. How can I believe that you love me when all this tells me otherwise, Bucky?” He stayed silent, looking down. His eyebrows frowning. “Do you see where I am coming from?”

“What girl?”

“The girl at the party! The one wearing a nurse costume. After you went to the bathroom, I tried to look for you and I found you being all cozy with her.”

“Oh, her.”

You placed your hands on your hips. “Yes, her.” Anger was bubbling inside of you wanting to come out like a volcano.

“I thought she was you. You know I am not wearing my glasses.”

You shook your head. “So you were wearing contacts, what does it have to do with anything right now, Bucky.” You said desperately.

“Yes, I was wearing contacts, but those that make your iris look red, for my costume. So, I could barely see.” Your arms falling beside your body. Bucky placed his hands on your cheek, your eyes directly looking in his and he was right, his eyes were completely red, not from the weed, but because of the contacts. All anger vanished and all you could feel was shame. Shame for thinking he was playing you, for thinking he was just like the others that had hurt you. “I thought she was you, toots. I genuinely thought she was. I love you and I don’t see myself with anyone but you. Do you seriously think that, after years of trying to get your attention, I would mess it up for a random fuck?” You shook your head. “Exactly, my love. So please, believe me when I say this : I love you. I have loved you since I met you and I will love you until you let me.”

You placed both hands on his wrist and looked deep into his eyes. “I love you too. Maybe not as long as you did, but I love you and I want no one else but you.”

And you kissed as the moonlight shines upon the two of you.

Thank you so much for waiting and reading:)

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our-happygirl500-fan · 7 months

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Something that I have kind of been thinking about are all the various dynamics that Big Mama seems to have with the Hamato Clan.

Leo: Just the spider I was coming to gloat to.

Big Mama: I am not one to be outmanoeuvred my turtle boo. Well done.

With Leo it almost seems as though Big Mama has possibly been set up as a foil for Leo, with Leo being the member of the Hamato Clan that was able to outmanoeuvre Big Mama in the episode 'Many Unhappy Returns' & was able to see through Big Mama's deceit in the episode 'Bug Busters'.

Something that I have seen a few people talk about are the possible parallels between Big Mama & Leo as they are both able to twist situations into something in their own favour, however they also contrast each other as Big Mama seems to be primarily motivated for her own gain while Leo is motivated by trying to keep his family safe.

Splinter: From you, as we tangoed the night away.

With Splinter, Big Mama has a complicated history as exes, with Big Mama having betrayed Splinter's trust & forced him to fight in the Battle Nexus however their relationship also seems slightly more complicated in the fact that they possibly seem to still have some kind of feelings for one another as in the episode 'The Ancient Art of Ninja Hide and Seek' it's shown that Big Mama kept a photo of them & Splinter went to retrieve the photo & towards the end of the episode 'Battle Nexus New York' Splinter attempted to save Big Mama from the Shredder & in the final episode of Rise, Big Mama did seem to help the Turtles find where the Shredder had taken Splinter & Draxum.

Big Mama: We both know my train is the only way to secretly move your cargo to the shrine.

Draxum: And I’m paying a heavy price for not asking questions

With Draxum, Big Mama has been portrayed as both a sort of rivals Draxum having originally taken Lou Jitsu from her in the episode 'Goyle, Goyles, Goyles' & Big Mama has tried to use Draxum's oozesquitoes for her Battle Nexus in the episode 'Bug Busters', however they are also kind of portrayed as bussiness partners as well as in the episode 'Insane in the Mama Train' Draxum was also the one who gave Big Mama the orb she needed for her Battle Nexus New York plan & Big Mama was the one who gave Draxum the opportunity to transport the Dark Armour creating the impression that Big Mama & Draxum will work together if it benefits them but will double cross each other if there is more to gain.

Something I kind of wonder about however is what their dynamic would be like after Draxum's redemption.

Donnie: I have only one question. How dare you?

With Donnie their dynamic seems to be Donnie showing a dislike towards Big Mama whenever they interact with each other whether due to Donnie still holding a grudge over Big Mama trying to use him & betraying his trust in the episode 'Bug Busters' or that Donnie is simply just generally upset at everything Big Mama has done to his family but something that I think is kind of interesting is that Donnie might possibly be the Turtle that almost kind of seems to show his dislike towards Big Mama the most out of the Hamato Clan.

Big Mama: You did your part so I will do mine

Something I also kind of think about is Big Mama's Assistant being one of the missing Turtle siblings meaning Big Mama kind of technically raised a member of the Hamato Clan which kind of makes me wonder how it would affect Big Mama's other dynamics with the rest of the Hamato Clan if they knew who Big Mama's Assistant was.

Raph: Heh.. uh… H-Hi..Big Mama.

Big Mama: Hello turtley boo

With Raph when Big Mama interacts with him in the episode 'Raph's Ride Along', Big Mama seems to act amused towards Raph while Raph seems to act nervous around her, this could possibly be due to what was going on during the episode however this could also be a glimpse into their dynamic of Raph possibly being intimidated by Big Mama due to knowing that she is dangerous & Big Mama simply being amused by Raph as she doesn't seem to view him as a threat to her.

Something that I kind of wonder about is what Big Mama's dynamic could have possibly been like with Mikey & April if we could have seen them interact properly with each other.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo hamato #donatello hamato #raphael hamato #hamato yoshi #baron draxum #big mama's assistant #big mama #rottmnt #tmnt

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cherryredstars · 6 months

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Idk if ur requests are open right now, but if they are, please PLEASE can you do this idea I have rn… ok so, I was sorta thinking about how spider!reader and Miguel go on a mission together to retrieve a spiderman, but in this universe it’s a girl version of Miguel. And, Miguel had like a little (big) crush on spider!reader and in this universe there’s a girl/boy version of us that girl Miguel has a crush on, so, Female!Miguel gets attracted to us and fights Miguel all the time for spider!reader attention 🙏 IM BEGGING FOR YOU TO DO THIS PLEASEEE😭😭 also, I love your fan fics😼😼

(Don’t mind my spelling 😭)

1k Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: Pining, Jealousy, Fluff

Summary: You were his first.

Word Count: 961 (Not Edited)

Miguel never understood why people were jealous of others.

The idea of wanting to be like someone else because they looked prettier or did a certain thing better or because they had something he wanted was stupid. He knows that everyone has some fucked up shit happening behind the scenes, and he’s perfectly content to handle his own deal of problems. All in all, being jealous of someone else was a waste of time. And he was ready to die on that hill, until he met her.

It was supposed to be an easy mission, and in and out sort of deal. The only reason Miguel went along on the mission was because it was in a new universe, and he always preferred to check it out for himself. And, of course, he brought you along. As much as he loved watching the way your body moved in your suit and hearing the soft melody of your voice as you went on and on about your day, he always brought you along because you made everything better. Literally. You seemed to have this calming effect on others, helping newly discovered spider men, women, animals, anything under the sun really, process the idea of the multiverse. It wasn’t a big surprise that Miguel had ended up falling under your spell, absolutely adoring the contrast in personalities. But now, he wishes he can pick you up and carry you back to HQ where he can keep you all to himself.

You don’t even notice the displeased look on Miguel’s face as he watches, arms crossed over his broad chest and the smallest of pouts on his lips as he watches you interact with…himself. Herself, technically. It was the biggest surprise to the both of you when you had discovered Miguel’s genderbend protecting the city. She had taken an instant liking to you, making it a point to brush her fingers along your arms, fingers twirling your hair as she talked, going on and on about her version of you. Female Miguel absolutely loved whispering things just loud enough for you to hear, a deep flush coming over your face as you smiled bashfully. It was driving him fucking nuts.

His fingers itched to pull you away from her, to mark you as his and that she could go run off to whatever version of you she had. This one is mine. It wouldn’t count as self-harm if he tested if she had the same pain tolerance as him, right? He promises it’s for research purposes only, no other reason. It definitely is not because he- she- is making not so subtle passes about you staying over and going back to her place. Not at all. Definitely had no correlation to the way female Miguel is leaning in super close to you, lips practically touching your ear as she whispers whatever bullshit she has in her mind. Miguel is practically blind to the way her fingers are ghosting over the front of your suit, circling over your stomach.

When female Miguel makes a move to kiss your cheek, Miguel gives into his urges. With a low snarl, he grabs your arm and pulls you behind him protectively. His eyes are narrowed at himself- herself?- the entire time, female Miguel doing the same to him. They look like rabid dogs fighting over a bag of food, teeth barred and eyes shining red. Both Miguel’s loose their face as your peak behind him, your hand slowly rubbing at his arm in an attempt to calm him down. Miguel throws a cocky grin at female Miguel, who sports an ugly scowl in response as you try to coax them back to HQ.

Of course, things don’t get any better on the way back to base. Female Miguel thinks she has a right to your every second, staying attached to your arm as Miguel walks ahead. Miguel makes it a point to interrupt the conversation every few seconds, giving out rules and explanations that make a vein pop at the side of his female version’s head. He finds absolute joy getting in the way of her advances, only for it to be wiped away when he sees how affected you are at her words and small touches. I could do that, he scowls, I could do that and so much more.

He can only really relax when female Miguel finally opens up a portal to go home, a small whine in her voice as she asks you if you’ll visit her real soon. You can only smile kindly and nod, the promise on the tip of your tongue before Miguel all but shoves himself- herself, fuck- into the portal with an indifferent, “oops”. You can’t help but laugh, finally catching onto his irritated behavior halfway through female Miguel’s visit. You smile sweetly at him, patting his arm as you wordlessly follow him back to his office. Before you can enter though, Miguel pulls you towards a small side hallway, pressing you up against the wall before checking for prying eyes. You stare up at him in a mixture of adoration and confusion, breath hitching when his face gets real close to yours.

His eyes scan your face, a small scowl between his brows that soften as his eyes meet yours. It doesn’t take long for them to wander down to your lips, eyes slightly darkening. You’re completely unprepared when he tilts his head and leans the rest of the way forward. His warm lips meet the corner of yours, the feel of his fangs just barely there. Your world seems to be in chaos as your try to process the action, eyes trailing after his receding form as his whispered words boom in your head:

“Choose me, okay?”

I was supposed to write this yesterday but I had no time and it's so obvious from the way I wrote this. I’m so sorry, I'm always more than willing to redo a request if you don't love it!!!

#cherry's requests🍒#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o hara #cherry's specials!🍒

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 25 days

Note

AITA for trying to find someone who blocked me?

I (f early 20's) made a tumblr account almost a year ago, mainly just to vent about petty discourse and what not. I made a bunch of friends and many of them I'm still in contact with this day. One of them was named H (early 20's X). H and I quickly struck up a friendship and we exchanged other social media handles as well. We talked almost daily, mostly about mundane stuff or complaining about tumblr users or sending funny memes. Nothing out of the ordinary.

About a month or so ago they opened up donations and even said they'd take some commissions to help them move to their partner's house. I donated a some money (not saying the amount but its somewhere between 40-55 bucks) because I got back money from my university and i wanted to help out a friend. They said they'd send over examples and that was it

After not hearing from them for a while, I tried to check on them and found they blocked me everywhere. I was shocked. There was ZERO indication that they were unhappy with me or I had said something wrong. I also realized they blocked me the day (or day after) I sent them the money

My friends think that I got scammed but I don't believe it. They'd been talking to me and posting about needing money for weeks before commissions went up. I combed through our messages to see if I said or did something wrong. Nothing. A close friend of mine said I should try to refund the money or expose them. Im not gonna do that because this is a private matter. However, I want answers. I know I'm not entitled to any sort of explanation, especially from someone who was technically an internet stranger, but it would have been nice.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 1 year

Text

are these your teeth or mine? the only language i speak is blood; it’s all red to me, it’s all yours to me.

ax72 x reader: this definitely wasn’t in the job description.

(warnings: blasphemous filth (i’m serious this time, guys), fingering (f on m), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), choking (back to business), hair pulling (double back to business), biting and lots of teeth (chomp), praise, dirty talk, inappropriate workplace relationship, lots of leg stuff, just be warned. don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.) gif is not mine.

(a/n: whorenation, if you’re not an arber xhekaj fan, boy are you about to be. qh43 is and always will be my guy, but i know in my heart of hearts that ax72 is the hottest player in the nhl. end of story. and this is an ode of sorts to him, his hands (look it up), his legs, that tiger tat on his thigh (cringe in the absolute best of ways), his mullet, and his mustache (i’m drooling). he is absolutely wicked, and he is the best fighter in the league (the antithesis of sin-bin princess tz11). sorry for all the classical references, but i was a classics major before law school, so i have to assert my specialized knowledge. no, he wouldn’t say darling, and no, i don’t care. as much as this is an ode to ax72, it is also an ode to the feminine desire to take what you want by the teeth and make it yours. to that. to the power we have in our teeth, in the most surprising of places. the pace of my posting will be easing up, as i have a lot of exams coming up, but i’ve got stuff in the works. go canucks. see you soon. sink your teeth into life.

you didn’t expect him back so early. usually, on game nights, he would be out until the early hours of the morning, when the darkness grew on the windows like forest moss.

not that you minded, it was your job to watch the house when it was empty. your title was technically something like personal assistant, but really, you just did whatever you could to make arber’s life easier. and that’s what you had been doing for the last two months.

tonight, though, he threw off the routine. you had been in the kitchen, putting dishes away, when you heard the door open, followed by his typical “darling?” and the thud of his things on the floor.

the term of endearment still made you blush, though he rarely called you anything else. “one sec,” you called out, finished what you were doing, wiped you hands on a rag.

you had gotten quite good, at least you thought, at hiding the effect he had on you. it was worth it, for the money, for the flexibility, the way the whole situation felt too good to be true. you knew that if you overstepped, you would be messing up a good thing.

you just couldn’t help but think that maybe this good thing could be even better. you pushed away the thoughts that had been plaguing you, walked to the living room, found the air rippling like a frayed wire.

and immediately, the thoughts, the images in your mind were back. it wasn’t fair. you could never quite get used to the sight of him after a game. the way he sat without tension or worry, letting you fully appreciate just how massive he was. you’d had practice in keeping your eyes locked on his, not letting your gaze stray to his thighs, the expanse of his chest, his hands-

but your mind hummed as he reached an arm up to scratch the back of his neck, defining his bicep and forearm. you licked your lips, his eyes followed the movement.

“you watch the game?” he asked, nodding towards the tv, playing the post game show. his voice was gravelly. you made a sound of affirmation, scolded yourself in your head, reminded yourself that he was your employer. technically.

“congratulations,” you said, willing the squeak out of your voice. “it was fun to watch.” you took a breath, your brow furrowed as you noticed the new shadows that painted his face. the black eye was old, from last game, but the deep bruise on the jaw, the cut across the nose, those were new.

you frowned. “i thought the refs broke you up before you could fight,” you said, shifting your weight on your feet.

“they did.” his lip quirked. “why? you worried about me, darling?”

you flushed a deep pink, tried to mask it by rolling your eyes. his smirk deepened as he leaned back into the chair, spreading his legs apart further. your gaze shot down, eyes wide, before your brought it back up, cleared your throat. “well,” you began, “since you’re back early, i’ll probably head out-”

“what?” his brow scrunched in concern. “no, stay for a bit. watch a movie with me.”

you bit your lip, weighed your options. his eyes lit up with amusement at your obvious indecision. he stretched upwards, arms towards the ceiling, a sliver of his stomach exposed, making your choice a little harder.

“c’mon darling, sit with me,” he drawled, smile lazy as he patted his thigh. he knew he had won. you could never say no to him, looking like that. how long could you possibly be expected to keep your distance? would looking ever be enough?

“okay, just for a little,” you conceded, walking over to the spacious chair on which he sat. “move over.”

he draped his arm over the back of the seat, put something on the tv. “can’t we just share?” his glance was telling. “know how cold you get.”

your throat constricted as you tried not to imagine what he felt like, what it would feel like to have him under you, his warmth radiating through you. maybe a professional would have refused.

“fine,” you said instead, lowering yourself down so that you balanced precariously between one of his thighs and the arm of the chair. he just let out a low laugh before tugging you so that you were entirely on his lap.

he was inescapable; his chest a wall behind you, an arm on each side of you, his legs underneath. he was so warm, so everywhere, it clouded your judgement. your mind felt as if it had been dipped in honey.

you blamed it on that, how you picked up one of his hands, easily the size of his face, and began to play with his fingers as you both watched the screen. “’m glad they didn’t let you fight today,” you admitted after moments in silence, gaze forward.

“yeah?” arber rasped. “i’m not.” he shifted his weight under you. “got me all worked up for nothing.”

your mouth went dry. you squirmed, to which he groaned, a deep rumble that vibrated through his chest and into your back. you twisted to look at him, felt the heat in his gaze melt your own, hot and heavy like liquid mercury.

“hm, love it when you look at me like that, darling.” he reached his free hand up to your face, held the side of it in his rough palm.

your resistance had long worn out. had it ever truly been there? each breath you took flickered. “like what?”

his mouth twitched smugly. “like you want to take a bite out of me.” you eyes must have glossed over at his words, because he let out a low chuckle. his fingers teased your jawline. you whimpered. “oh, pretty baby,” he whispered. “it’s okay. you can.”

your eyelashes fluttered. “i can?” you shifted, relished in the hardness you found beneath you.

he nodded, dragged a thumb along your cheekbone. “go on, darling,” he mused, hooking an arm under your thigh and moving you so that you faced him, your thighs straddling his hips. “sink your teeth into me. know you want to.”

you felt as if you were in some sort of trance, like he was a siren and you a sailor, drowning in your own desire. so there you were, drowning, as you gently lifted his arm to your mouth, bit down on his bicep just forcefully enough to leave a mark, just barely rolling your hips back and forth on his lap when a guttural growl escaped him. he was soft beneath the edges of your teeth - he was yours, then. you looked up at him through your lashes, left a breath of a kiss where your teeth had been.

you looped your arms around his neck, couldn’t help but slowly continue to move your hips, found his scorching gaze a sedative for your mind and an exhilarator for your body. “that feel good, darling?” he asked, one hand coming down to control the rhythm of your hips, the other wrapping around your throat. “know you’ve wanted me for so long, mhm? gonna let me use you?” you whimpered as he tightened his grip on your neck.

“please,” you mustered, barely recognizing your own voice. his eyes crinkled at the corners as he lifted your face to his in a kiss that made you question how you had lasted this long. you had never felt so out of your body, never so self aware. his hand around your throat forced you closer, his brace on your hip set the perfect pace, made you realize how wet you already were, that beautiful friction between your core and his mass of a thigh.

he urged a moan from your mouth, deepened the kiss, made you feel every satisfied rumble of his in your teeth. he slid his hand to the back of your neck, rooted it in your hair, moved his lips down to your jaw, then your neck and collarbone, making you shiver, the weight of your head resting in one hand while the other came down to tease you.

he tugged your shorts aside, dragged two fingers through your folds, groaned at the wetness he found there. “so wet for me, darling,” he cooed, “been wanting me, yeah? know you wear these just for me, hm?”

he thumbed your clit. you threaded a hand in his hair for support. “tell me, darling. tell me what goes on in that pretty head of yours.” he thrust a finger into you, making it that much harder to focus. he smiled at the strangled sound that you made.

“wanted you since the first day,” you whimpered, squinted when he added another finger, moved in and out of you. “can’t help it,” you tried, “just so much of you, everywhere.”

he smirked, picked up his pace on your clit. “yeah? that why you stare at my hands? at my lap?”

you squeezed your eyes shut, nodded. “’m sorry, not my fault.” you felt yourself grow dangerously close.

“don’t be sorry darling. love when you look.” he groaned as you clenched around his fingers. “gonna cum? already?” you could hear his cocky smile. “hm, pretty baby, always so good for me.”

his words had your vision blurring, able to focus on nothing but his hardness beneath you, his breath on your neck, his fingers stilling inside of you. when you opened your eyes, drifting down from your high, you were met with his gaze, fizzling with fire.

he pulled his fingers out of you, brought them to his mouth and sucked, before pulling you forward onto his chest, wrapping his arms around you. like this, his cock was impossible to ignore.

“feel what you do to me, darling?” he asked, tracing down your spine with his fingers. “gonna let me fuck you like you’ve been dreaming of?”

your stomach fluttered at the idea. “please, arber,” you begged. at this point, you would have done anything he asked. such was the plight of the sailor and the siren. “please fill me up.” you lifted your hips up and off of him, reached down to feel his cock under your hand. “need to feel you inside of me. needed you for so long.”

he groaned as you took his cock out, began to pump him up and down. “yeah? my fingers not enough for you?” you shook your head, to which he tsked. “greedy, greedy, girl,” he muttered before reaching an arm around your middle, shifting you until you were bent over the arm of the chair, your hips lifted up towards him.

he dragged his cock through your folds, wet from your first orgasm. “lucky i need you so bad, darling,” he said before sinking deep into you, making your head fall slack and your chest drape over the chair.

he moaned, brought one hand to snake into your hair, pull you up, the other taking a bruising grip on your hip. “always feel this good?” he bit out, “or only for me?” you felt his rhythm of thrusts through your body, all the way to your fingertips.

“just for you,” you breathed, and it was probably true - never before had you felt so genuinely needy, so desperate for someone, such a desire to simply be good.

“i know, darling,” he whispered with an especially deep thrust that had you questioning when he ended and you began. “known you’re all for me since i met you.” he angled his hips up, hitting a new spot, making your back arch. “pretty baby, blushing, biting that lip, staring at my legs,” he groaned, “always been mine. made for me.”

he loosened his grip on your hip, moved his hand down to your clit, rubbed circles that had your moans coming out like whines. he growled. “squeezing me so pretty, darling. gonna cum again for me?”

you nodded, arched further, felt him pull your head back to look at him. “need to cum, arber,” you said like a wince, “please make me cum, want to feel you cum in me, please.”

he rubbed you faster, hips stuttering in a tell. “pretty baby wants to cum, hm?” you whimpered, nodded, clenched harder, felt his stomach flex. “be good for me and cum, then.”

you obeyed, gushing around him and triggering his own orgasm, felt him fill up your senses from the inside out. his warmth inside of you, the smell of him a mist around you, the intimate sound of his that rattled around your head, everything: it coated you like some indeterminant shield - was this how achilles felt?

arber leaned forward, rested his weight on your back, gently bit into your shoulder, left a kiss in its place before lifting you up, around, back into his lap and arms. you felt the gravity of his breathing in your bones, felt the peace of the room in your teeth.

you twisted again to look at him, leaned back into his embrace, sighed out a breath. your gaze met his, different than every time such a meeting had happened before.

his chest shook in a light laugh as he gave his head a single shake. “better be careful with those eyes, darling,” he rasped into your neck. at your furrowed brow, his lips quirked. “they’ve given you away since the beginning.”

and you thought that perhaps there were worse things than to have the truth in your eyes.

fin.

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fleurriee · 10 months

Note

❛ you’ll always be mine, in the back of my mind ... i’ll look for you first in my next life. ❜

❛ i promised to stay away from you ... but i can’t. ❜

forbidden love prompts plsssss x

i’ve noticed that i like to give at least a little background to these, so that’s what we’re having :)) also, wrote this whilst listening to drivers license & i miss u im sorry in the middle of the night, meaning if things don't make since, im sorry, so take that with what you will… 2k drabbles!

pairing ; neteyam x fem!reader

synopsis ; you thought you and neteyam had longer together, but ewya wouldn’t even grant you that.

themes ; mentions of previous fluff, angst

What you and Neteyam had was wrong - that’s what you had been told, without actually being told.

The prince of the Omatikaya was technically promised to another, his parents having secretly already set up the pair and believing it to be a perfect match. And, in the eyes of his parents, it was perfect. Here you had Neteyam on one side, a mighty warrior who was protective and family-oriented at the same time, and on the other side, you had Tai’la, a woman coming into her own who’s hands were perfectly crafted by Ewya herself to ensure the health and safety of those around her.

Even in your eyes, you could see they were made for one another. Still, you'd never get him out of your head.

The first time anything had happened had been back before he was told about his estrangement with Tai’la. The two of you had sort of grown up together - not quite best friends, but two Na’vi who could happily say they enjoyed a good conversation from the other.

And, those conversations gradually grew in numbers, until you were actively seeking one another out. You’d find a somewhat secluded part of your home, the two of you finding comfort in one another’s presence and talking about any and everything - whether that be how your day’s had went, what you were hoping to eat, your hobbies… So much was said between the two of you during these times, it came to a point where you knew him almost as much as you knew yourself.

As these times flew by, you and Neteyam had obviously grown a lot closer, to the point where you couldn’t deny the sudden feelings you’d grown for him. Out of nowhere, it seemed as though you were noticing everything about him in a different light - the way he stood, proud and tall, and exuding confidence despite knowing he was nervous on the inside; the subtle curves against the corner of his lips every time he’d look in your direction, eager to please and put a smile on your own face; the way his muscles grew taut when he was training or reaching for something, on full display to the point where you struggled to take your eyes away from his figure.

Perhaps you had been too obvious in your gawking when admiring Neteyam, or maybe he’d been just as smitten as you were, but not too long after that, he’d confronted you about it. He’d teasingly asked you whether you enjoyed looking at him, watching him do his tasks throughout the day, because he couldn’t help but spot you every now and again with your eyes trained on him. Instantly, you were flustered at being caught, cheeks darkening and heart beating rapidly, but, you’d never actually managed to come up with an excuse, because that was when he’d first kissed you.

It had been everything you’d dreamed of, sharing such a beautiful experience with Neteyam. And, everything had been beautiful for a while after that - the two of you continuously sneaking away to some far off place so you could show your true affections for one another without any repercussions.

Still, that hadn’t stopped what had come next.

Not long after that, the Olo’eyktan had announced that his eldest son was to be mated with Tai’la, a young woman who everyone could see had a bright future ahead of her. And, what better way to spend it than by being with the future Olo’eyktan himself?

The moment those words had left his mouth, your heart had shattered into a million different pieces, scattered across the expanse of Pandora. You’d never be able to get those pieces back, to forge them back to the puzzle that was your heart until it was whole again. Not when you knew you’d have to watch Neteyam court someone who wasn’t you, mate with someone who wasn’t you - start a family with someone that wasn’t you.

You knew it might’ve been a little difficult to convince both of your family’s that what you had was real, and that you would want to go further with it when the time came, but, it was something worth fighting for. Clearly, Ewya hadn’t thought the same.

In the near distance, your gaze had met Neteyam’s figure, his brows pinched in confusion and mouth open in shock. So many emotions were coursing through him, he didn’t know what to think - he didn’t know what to do next. For so long now, he had considered you the one, and in just seconds, you had been ripped away from him.

When your eyes finally connected, all he could see was the sadness clear as day, lingering behind your gaze until he was sure you were just moments away from sobbing. Your attention briefly looked over to Tai’la, who was being congratulated by several others, her family looking proud of her. Suddenly, you felt sick - suddenly, everything was too much.

In an instant, you’re leaving, weaving in and out of people as they cheer for their future leaders, all happy smiles and waving hands. Your thundering feet take you out further into the forest, needing the quiet of the earth to contemplate everything life has just thrown at you, and what this had meant.

Neteyam was no longer yours.

Everything the two had been through all that time had meant nothing in the end, not when he would eventually be doing all of that with her, with his mate.

“Tahni (star),” a voice called, one instantly being recognisable as Neteyam’s. Your heart sank in your throat when you understood it.

Turning your head further away from his approaching figure, you were desperate to hide the tears leaking down your cheeks. It wouldn’t be the best thing in the world for him to see how much this affected you - not if it was only going to make your situation worse. Neteyam belonged to someone else, now, meaning you weren’t his to comfort.

“Tahni (star), please,” he called quietly, gentle hands reaching out to turn you around to face him. When you did, everything had felt wrong to him. Seeing you cry in front of him, because of something that involved him, made him feel the worst he’s ever felt in his entire life. “Oh, my beautiful girl. I’m so sorry.”

“Did you know?” You question quickly, wanting to get the worst of it all out the way.

His brows furrow. “What?”

“Did you know?” You repeat, voice a little firmer. “Did you know your parents had decided someone for you?”

Neteyam paused, and that was already enough of an answer for you. Your emotions increased more in their torture, more tears spilling from your crinkled eyes as sobs escaped your lips in despair. Moving to put some distance between you, that space only felt larger than it ever would be, more so now than ever.

“I’d had… an idea…” he sighed, shoulders slacking and posture dejected as he admitted the truth. “I’d told my parents about you, that I wanted to start properly courting you soon… they didn’t really approve, but they didn’t say anything about this, about her.” You had wanted an explanation, but hearing this had only worsened it all. “Tahni (star), please, I promise-”

You shook your head, your throat racked with sobs, so much so, you had struggled to get any words out at first. In the end, you weren’t sure what was best to say anyway.

“They made me promise,” he continued, like he didn’t care that all you wanted was for him to leave, just to make things a little easier for the two of you. He needed you to know, he needed you to know every little thing he’d thought about you, about how much he truly felt for you. “I - I promised to stay away from you… but I can’t - I couldn’t. Not my Tahni (star)…”

A broken sigh fell from your lips at his words, squeezing your eyes impossibly tighter like closing them would close him off, too.

You needed to leave - this was only making everything worse.

“You’ll always be mine, tahni (star), in the back of my mind.” Neteyam’s voice was barely audible now, just a quiet whisper that was slightly shaky. Maybe he’d started to understand that this was coming to an end, too, but not without his last, final words. “I’ll look for you first in my next life.”

That was a promise he’d always keep, for the rest of his life on Pandora, until he was back in the arms of Ewya. He knew the two of you were meant to be together - and, you’d find one another in every life after this one. And, in each one of them, he’d make sure you were always his.

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎#2k drabble special #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x pregnant reader #dad neteyam

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junnopons · 1 year

Text

a guide to writing your sp

Before we continue, I wanna remind everyone real quick that you don’t need a template to script. You don’t even need a script, subliminals, or whatever. This is just for people, including me, who want to script as their method and don’t know where to start. This doesn’t have to be used for scripting an sp specifically. Feel free to use this to script your ideal self or whatever your heart desires. Also, to answer some questions about manifesting a sp in general (feel free to skip this, as this is probably gonna be the longest part of the blog 😭)

Q) what point of view do I need to write my script in? A) there isn’t any specific rule for how you write your script, except the rules you give yourself. feel free to write it however you wish

Q) does this person need to be in my life currently in order for me to manifest them? A) not at all. whether you want to manifest your childhood bestie, a complete stranger you met only yesterday, or a rando that looks, acts, and feels just like your favorite fictional character. you are truly limitless in who and what you can manifest

Q) how long will it take? A) as long as you want! 1 day, 12 years, 38 hours, 3 minutes, whatever! It’s just like manifesting something smaller like food or a phone. Although, if you still have doubts about your manifestation coming to you at the time you want I’d recommend working on self concept or repeating affirmations. You don’t have to though, ofc

Q) what if my sp is taken/not interested/or something else? A) now, with the knowledge of this being a rather controversial topic in the community feel free to take my opinion with a grain of salt. I personally don’t like messing with people’s relationships or feelings for any sort of gain, so I’d take that situation as an opportunity to manifest an even better version of your sp. this way no one gets hurt in the situation and you and your past sp can live happily

Q) what if I’m manifesting a fictional character/someone like a fictional character? How will that work? A) now, see I can’t exactly tell you the specifics of how it works (because tbh I don’t really know the specifics,) but I like to think about manifesting a fictional sp in two ways. 1. There are about 8 billion people on this earth right now. One of those 8 billion people are bound to have exactly your requirements, no matter how detailed or how simple they are. 2. There are countless amounts of realities, and just like when you script for reality shifting when you manifest you are also technically shifting to a reality with your desires. So what makes manifesting an sp any different

Feel free to send asks about anything else concerning this topic, I’ll be very happy to answer. Although, please don’t be rude or spam. That’s such a vibe killer (and no one wants to be a vibe killer). And with that, let’s discuss the guide to writing your sp.

With writing an sp I like to imagine it as writing a wiki page of an official character (or writing an introduction to an original character of yours). The way you write it won’t make a difference, but I like writing mine with lots of details. Something like

Next comes the appearance part. Personally I like to make sure my appearance part is detailed to help with visualization. I also like to make my sps look somewhat close to known celebrities. That way when wanting to visualize them I can use various forms of media. For example, if you’re sp looks a lot like Felix form stray kids feel free to use edits of him to visualize. There are many ways of writing an sp’s physical description. Such as

“my sp looks like Felix from straykids with yuzuru hanyu’s body “ or “my sp has *very specific facial feature from one celebrity* with *another specific facial feature from another celebrity*” or simply write it like “my sp has brown dyed hair with emerald green eyes”

You can also leave this part blank like every other part of your script. The possibilities are endless.

Then, I like to go into the backstory and personality. I do it in the same group of paragraphs personally because I like to see how the backstory affects the person I’m writing about to make sure it’s pretty realistic. I like writing this part in 3rd person, but feel free to write it anyway you choose to. Also feel free to take this as seriously as you want to. For those, like me, who need a backstory idea or help with writing what characteristics your sp might have because of their experiences I recommend visiting the “one stop for writers” website.

After that, I like to get into one of the fun parts, my sp’s relationship with others. Whether it’s their relationship with their mother, the relationship with your friends, or the relationship with your family. Just don’t forget to write about yourself.

Personally I like writing my sp’s relationships something like this: “[Name] and their mother unfortunately do not get along that well, mainly due to *blah blah blah blah*” but ofc you can always make it less detailed too. Something like “Sp’s relationship with mother - neutral” will work just as good. Allow whatever’s up there to fill in the gaps for you

I don’t necessarily believe you have to script anything after that. I like adding more things such as personal style, how we meet, talents and skills, inspirations, etc,. But nothing on here or on the guide is mandatory. As long as you have a basic idea of how you want your sp to be you don’t need all of this. And so with that, I think it’s time for me to go. Do note that this blog with always be updated in case I find spelling mistakes or new information, but if you have any questions about this part or any part of the guide don’t be afraid to ask. With that, I’m logging off. Peace.

#void state #manifesting #manifest #manifest sp #sp manifestation #manifesting blog #loa affirmations #loa #law of assumption #junno posts ✨

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clxja16 · 2 years

Text

The Little Sister

Gifs not mine

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader

Genre: max verstappen’s sister au!

Warnings: family death, smut, angst, lots of arguing, drama, orphan child

Word Count: 6K+

author’s note: I want to make it abundantly clear, I am in no way a jos apologist, that’s all.

Part two

——————————————

“It’s lights out and away we go,”

You watched them get away, each of the cars speed climbing. Your brother was in one of those cars, going around and around in circles. You always rooted for your brother, he is the reigning world champion. You sat next to your father in the paddock, watching the monitor of the race. Kelly was on the other side of you guys. But unbeknownst to them, there was another driver who had been occupying your mind. Whom you secretly rooted for under your breath. You watched as he and your brother drove side by side into the turns. You watched the red car closely. Almost cheering out loud when he passed your brother. Charles Leclerc, had you turning into a Ferrari fan instead of a Redbull fan.

Y/n L/n Verstappen, the baby of the Verstappen kids. However unlike Max and Victoria, you are not the biological child of Jos and Sophie. Just before your sixth birthday, your parents were on a flight to Singapore for business. The plane they were on, never made it to the airport. It has forever remained unclear what exactly happened, but they were presumed dead.

Your parents informally considered Jos and Sophie to be your godparents, so when they found out your parents were ‘dead.’ They immediately took you in, however the technicalities of it took a long time to sort out. And even though Jos and Sophie refused to blame you, you felt that you were the reason for the divorce.

When they did separate, you lived with Victoria, and Sophie. That was always mom, and sister to you. Max and Jos started to come around more again when you were in middle school, and Victoria was just starting to be a teenager. And although Jos, Sophie, Max and Victoria aren’t family, they never made you feel different. Jos and Sophie always treated you like one of their own children, and they are always going to be mom and dad to you. Max and Victoria were the same, you weren’t just a random orphan, but their sister. And they were your older siblings.

Based solely on how you guys act around each other, it seemed as if you guys were actual blood family.

After you graduated from high school, you began to stay with Max more. It started with just going to a few of his races, then you began to help out with his scheduling, then you began being his personal assistant. You schedule all of Max’s non Formula 1 commitments, as well as the F1 related ones, you handle his social media content, you do his training schedules, his flying times, you schedule his dates with Kelly. There is basically nothing that Max does, that you don’t know about. And since being his little sister, you also live with Max.

You can’t say you really mind though. You get to travel around the world and see new places all the time, you get pretty good pay, you don’t have to pay rent or utilities, you don’t pay for your traveling and you get random gifts every now and then. Like just the other month, Max had bought you a designer handbag, because he thought you’d enjoy it. So all in all, the arrangement you have, works out marvelously in your favor.

There is just one, teeny tiny downside to all of this. And that would be Max, he can sometimes be just a bit overwhelmingly protective. For example, at the end of last season there was a major party for Max being world Champion. Pierre was getting just a little too friendly that night, after having multiple rounds of drinks, which in turn made Max cut Pierre off for the rest of the night, and Max also gave you a ‘babysitter.’ To, in Max’s words, “shoo away all the bad guys.” Another time, just this season, you were with Max flying over to another race, and Max had invited Daniel Riccardo and Lando Norris for the plane ride. Max felt that Lando was being ‘overly flirty,’ that Max made Lando sit next to Daniel, instead of you, for the rest of the flight.

And just a few weeks back before the summer break, you were at a nightclub. You were drinking and dancing, granted dancing very provocatively, but safely nonetheless, and Max dragged you out the club and back home. You genuinely think that the reason you haven’t had a serious relationship is because of Max. But you know he means well, and he really hasn’t crossed the line. It is just frustrating sometimes. You still love your brother, and even with his over protectiveness, you still feel like you’re living your best life.

Then there was Charles, the Monegasque driver for Scuderia Ferrari, was someone you’ve only recently been more acquainted with. You have known Charles since before his time in Formula One, you have known Charles for about as long as Max has known Charles. But just like Max and Charles’ relationship, you guys didn’t see each other much outside of race weekends. Charles was never considered to be one of Max’s close friends, so Charles didn’t come around much, like Lando or Daniel.

It wasn’t until this year's Australian Grand Prix, did you start becoming closer to Charles. When the race ended on Sunday, Max went with Danny to go visit his family. You told Max that you were just gonna go get dinner Pierre, then head back to the hotel. Unbeknownst to you and Max, Pierre had more planned for the night.

You ended up like 4 shots deep in the middle of a club, celebrating Charles’ first grand slam. And the next morning, you woke up in Charles’ hotel room, with nothing but a bright red Ferrari shirt.

Since then you and Charles had started sneaking around, visiting each other’s hotel rooms during race weekend, casually bumping into each other to walk the paddock together. What started out as a little fun, turned to be something a lot more serious before your eyes. Before you even knew it, you were smiling at all of his text, dying to get home to tell him everything that happened in your day, silently hoping that he would pass Max on the track to win. Charles had completely taken over your mind.

You laid in Charles’ bed once again, “I have to go home,” you whispered ever so softly, for Charles to hear.

“You don’t have to,” Charles looked down at you in his arms, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I promised Max I would be home for dinner,” you began to wiggle your way out of Charles’ grasp. Charles let you go, his fingers running down your bare arms. You began to go around the room picking up the discarded clothing. After a second or so of watching you, Charles got out of bed, pulling on an abandoned pair of shorts.

“Mon chérie,” Charles spoke softly, “stay for the night.” Charles wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. Softly pressing light kisses down your neck.

“Maybe another night,” you offered, turning back around to face Charles.

“Fine,” Charles gave in, letting you go, but just before you could make it to the door, Charles pulled you back into his embrace. Pressing his lips against yours, “I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered against your lips.

“I won’t be gone long,” you smiled.

You sat at the dinner table with Max, Kelly, and Penelope. Kelly had cooked chicken parmigiana tonight. The meal was lovely, Penelope was telling everyone about her day.

“Y/n, where were you today?” Max asked, his question cutting clear across the table.

“Just out, had some lunch with friends, ran a few errands.” You answered as you cut the chicken, “did you need me today?”

“No,” Max answered, looking at you a little suspiciously.

“Maxie leave her alone, she's an adult now,” Kelly came to your defense. Kelly is the only person that you told about your situation with Charles, when she accidentally saw a very flirty text from Charles. Kelly knew exactly where you were this afternoon, and exactly who you were doing.

“I just wanted to know, that’s all.” Max huffed out stuffing another piece of chicken in his mouth.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Kelly when Max wasn’t paying attention. To which she just smiled at you. After dinner you spent the rest of your night on the phone with Charles, being slightly careful not to speak too loudly for Max to hear.

Summer break was coming to end, and that means Max’s schedule was getting increasingly more busy, which in turn means your schedule was more busy now. Training hours, interviews, FIA meetings, drivers debriefing, Redbull strategy meetings, and many many more.

“What’s next?” Max asked, as you guys were finishing up another interview.

“You have training, then dinner with Checo and Horner.”

“Dinner? For what?”

“I’m not entirely sure, Horner just said that he needed to schedule a dinner with you and Checo as soon as possible,” you answered.

“What are you doing for the rest of tonight?” Max asked.

“I am gonna finish going through your emails, then finalize tomorrow’s schedule, and reconfirm with the airport about take off time for tomorrow’s flight. By the way, it's an afternoon flight, so we’re having dinner in Belgium. After I do all of that, then I might get dinner with a friend.” You finished off, “is that alright with you Father?” You asked in your most sarcastic tone.

“Haha very funny, I just wanna know what my baby sister is doing,” Max responded as the two of you made it to the car about to head home. Max dropped you off at home, before leaving for the gym.

You went inside and watched Max driving away before texting Kelly, and heading out to Charles’ place.

That night you sat on Charles’ bed, on your laptop going through Max's emails, just like you told Max you would.

“Mon Cherie,” Charles came up behind you, pressing those soft kisses to your neck that you loved, “what are you doing?”

“My job,” you quipped back.

“Shouldn’t Max be doing this himself?”

“I get paid to do this for him, the least I can do, is do it in a timely manner,” you responded.

“You’re supposed to be spending time with me, before you need to go back home.” Charles turned your face to look at him.

“Last email, I promise, and then I’m all yours,” you answered, turning back to your screen, to finish typing up your response. You heard Charles let out this most exaggerated sigh you could ever hear. You couldn’t help but giggle as you pressed send. “Okay, I’m done now. All yours.”

“Finally,” Charles said, as he pulled you into his arms.

After that, you and Charles just cuddled in bed while a movie played in the background and the two of you talked about your days. It was moments like these that made you question your entire situation, relationship, with Charles. You and Charles have been officially messing around since April, but it was now September. You guys were clearly more close than other friends with benefits, but Charles never once asked you to make it official. However, he wants you over his place all the time, he has a drawer for you at his place, he acts like he wants more, he just hasn’t said it.

You want to ask what you guys are, but at the same time, you were the one that said friends with benefits. Not to mention you’re the one that refuses to tell your brother about your situation with Charles. All in all you don’t have a right to judge or demand answers from Charles when you’re not entirely sure what you want. This was much easier when you didn’t hang around Charles’ place after fucking, or when you didn’t have a drawer at his place, or when Charles didn’t cook you meals just because, or when coming over meant literally one thing. Now things are just messy.

“Shit,” you woke up in Charles’ arms in a panic, your fairly loud cruse, causing Charles to wake as well.

“What?”

“I should’ve been home last night,” you began to gather your things, trying to rack your brain for an excuse to tell your brother.

Charles sighed loudly, “I don’t understand what the big deal is, if you just tell him y/n.”

You paused, not entirely sure why you’re so hesitant to tell Max about Charles, “it’ll be too awkward to tell Max, it’s just not a good idea.”

“So you enjoy having to do this, having to lie to your brother constantly y/n?” Charles asked, now standing in front of you.

“Charles, can we please not argue right now?” You wouldn’t say it in this moment, but Charles wasn’t the most important person to you right now. Reassuring Charles wasn’t important right now, getting back home was.

“I don’t wanna argue mon cherie,” Charles sighed, if there was anything Charles hated more than watching you leave, it was arguing with you, “but this is getting out of hand.”

“We’ll work something out, but I really need to go,” you pecked Charles’ cheek before walking out.

You raked your brain the entire ride home, trying to come up with any type of excuse that would satisfy Max. And when you finally got to the apartment, you noticed only Kelly was in the living room area. You took a breath of relief.

“Where the hell have you been?” Kelly whispered to you, “hurry up and get in your room before he gets out.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as you rushed into your bedroom, silently shutting the door behind you.

You changed into some pajamas, wiped off whatever leftover makeup you had on, and rolled around your bed to look like you slept in your own bed last night. When you felt satisfied with your cover up, did you hear your name being called loudly.

You walked out of your room, to see Max standing there, with Kelly by his side.

“What time did you get home last night?” Max asked, his arms crossed and his face stern.

“Why so serious, Maxie?” You asked with a playful smile, “I’m not really sure but it was late.” You answered as you walked past Max into the Kitchen for a cup of coffee.

You could hear Max sigh, “I just wanna make sure you’re being safe.” You don’t remember much from before your parents died, and the right after is mostly a blur, but there’s key moments that stand out. Like the first time you went back to school since the funeral, and almost all the other kids thought that a little girl with dead parents was the most hilarious thing to ever happen. Max found out that you were getting picked on, and decided to take matters into his own hands, he almost got expelled from school that day.

“I promise I’m being safe Max, I’m not a little kid anymore,” you turned back to look at your brother. He was always going above and beyond to protect you from the world. Not that you knew, but Max always felt that you had too much hurt in this lifetime already.

“You’re still my baby sister.”

That night after dinner, Max walked you to your hotel room, like he did for every race weekend. Luckily for you, Max wasn’t too focused on you, his mind already on Sunday. You watched him walk back down the hall, towards the elevators going back to his own room. As soon as you were satisfied, you texted Charles you’re room number.

You slipped out of the clothes you were wearing, deciding to jump into the shower before Charles came over. When you finished you dawned a lacy red lingerie set. Just as you finished, fixing your makeup to look done up for Charles you heard a knock on the door. Peeping through the peephole, to see Charles there standing, wearing a hoodie and a pair of shorts.

You hated when he dressed overly simple, but had your cheeks flushing. You hated that it didn’t take much from him to get you swooning. You hated that he had you wrapped around his finger, and you hated that he had done it effortlessly. You hated that he really pulled you without even trying.

You opened the door for Charles, wearing nothing but that exact lingerie set.

“Cherie, mon Cherie,” Charles started off taking all of you in, he then pulled at your waist, to bring you to him, looking up at you now, “you really are something else.”

“I hope a good something else,” you said, batting your lashes at Charles.

“The best, something else,” Charles answered, pressing his lips against yours. He walked towards the bed, pushing you along, while making out the entire time. When you felt the back of your knees hit the bed, you fell against it, now looking up at Charles.

His eyes, looking you up and down, as he pulled off his hoodie, while simultaneously sliding off his shorts. Leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He left kisses up your body, starting at your ankles. Going to your knees, then your hips, avoiding the place where you wanted him most. Kissing your waist, and stomach, carefully leaving kisses on each of your breasts. Going up to your collarbones, then your neck, and across your jaw. Passing your lips and going to your nose, each of your eye lids and your forehead lastly. The act started out very sensual, but ended up being charming.

You could feel the fire in your cheeks, and as you looked up at him with the most smitten smile your face had ever adorned. “You are so beautiful,” Charles whispered, almost like he was talking to himself.

Charles pulled you into another kiss, he was taking his time. Charles was not the most patient man on Earth. He often rushed into bed with you, but this time was very different. He was being gentle and slow, he was taking his time.

You felt his fingers slide into your panties. His touches felt light, almost like he wasn’t even touching you. He pulled your panties off, and instead of tossing them to the other side of the room, like he would normally do. He just slid it off you, and dropped it on the floor, not paying any attention to that, and keeping his eyes solely locked on you. His fingers found their way through your folds. Gently rubbing soft circles on your clit, as he placed soft kisses to the area.

Charles began slowly bringing you to your high, soft licks, gentle ease of his fingers sliding in and out. You tugged at his hair, trying your hardest not to move. Charles enjoyed forcing you to stay put, he enjoyed having to hold you down to bring you to your orgasm. He enjoyed it so much, that he had hoped you would buck your hips towards his face any moment now. However you showed great restraint in remaining still, so much restraint that he ought to be proud.

Charles slowly started to go faster, now pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace. Bringing you to your orgasm faster than you initially realized. Charles then started kissing his way up to your lips. You lifted your leg to hook around Charles waist, as he deepened the kiss further.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Charles spoke softly against your lips.

“Charles,” was all you managed to whisper.

Charles continued to kiss you, as he pulled off his boxer, slipping inside of you. Your eyes went wide feeling the stretch, melting further into the bed and into the kiss. When Charles finally pulled away from the kiss, you felt so full, almost loopy in the head. He loved you like this, drunk on his cock.

“Cherie,” he called softly, he pulled your face to look at him. When you met his eyes, did he start to pull out, and slowly glide back in. He watched your face carefully with every movement he made. As he continued to move in and out, slowly.

Finally when you whispered a meek, “faster,” did he start to pick up the pace. Charles knew all the spots to hit that had you seeing stars. Again you repeated “faster,” not feeling completely satisfied. And you saw Charles smirk just a little, before going even faster.

He then grabbed your leg that was around his waist, moving your ankle to his shoulder. He pressed little kisses into your calf, as he continued to pound into you. You felt little tears roll down your cheeks, as the pleasure completely washed over you.

Charles loved the sight of you completely fucked out, as you came down from your high. He grabbed your phone that was tossed aside, as he wrapped his other hand around your throat. Your head tilted to the side a little, a love drunk smile on your face, with your post-orgasm eyes. It was this moment that Charles snapped a photo of.

You felt your eyelids get heavy, you almost fell asleep, until you felt Charles start to move again. That’s when you knew, only you came so far.

The next morning, you woke up in bed alone. Charles had written you a note that he left on the nightstand. It read;

Have to get back to my room, before getting down to the paddock. I’ll see you there, mon cherie.

Xoxo,

C. L.

P.s I hope you wear red for me today.

You couldn’t help but blush at the note that Charles left. You rolled out of bed and were heading to the shower, when you heard a knock on your door. Thinking Charles might have forgotten something, you went to the door, still with only the bed sheet wrapped around you. You looked through the peephole, just in case, to see Max on the other side. You thanked god, that you double checked before opening the door.

“One sec,” you shouted out, as you rushed to the closet, pulling on the complimentary robe. You threw the sheet back onto the bed, and pull on a pair of panties while simultaneously kicking your bra from last night under the bed.

You opened the door to your brother, “yes?” You asked, trying not to look somewhat normal.

“Did you just wake up?” Max asked, “you know what it doesn’t matter, we need to go, I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“I’ll be down in like 20 minutes.”

“Just hurry up, I don’t want you arriving at the paddock by yourself.” Max said, as he was walking away already. You finally closed the door, and took a breath of relief. You quickly rinsed off in the shower, before finding an outfit to wear and doing some light makeup. You wore the standard Redbull shirt, but you wore a red scrunchie in your hair for Charles.

That night when free practice was over, Max stayed in the paddock with the team, working on the strategy for tomorrow’s qualifying and Sunday’s race. Charles was doing the same with his own team, that left you alone initially for the evening. Until Kelly found you, and told you to come along to dinner with some of the other WAGs of the paddock.

So now, you sat at dinner with Luisa, Lando’s girlfriend, Carmen, George’s girlfriend, Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, and Kelly. Dinner was going just fine, until Kelly asked, if you were seeing anybody new. Even though she fully knows your situation at the moment.

“I mean, it’s complicated at the moment,” you answered, gritting your teeth.

“Is it a driver?” Luisa asked,

“I don’t imagine Max being happy if it is a fellow driver,” Carmen adds in.

“Alex has his suspicions, as do I,” Lily said, eyeing you up and down.

“Does everyone know something I don’t?” You asked as you looked around at the girls.

“Y/n, have you not been paying attention to the gossip,” Luisa asked, almost shocked.

“What gossip?”

“Rumors are going around that, ‘reigning world champion, Max Verstappen’s baby sister, y/n Verstappen, is seeing a fellow F1 driver.’” Carmen quoted from an article that was recently posted online.

“Shut up, that’s not an actual article is it?” You asked slightly, panicked.

“It’s an article alright, so tell us is there someone you’re seeing that’s a driver?” Lily asked, you could see the smiles on all the girls. They truly meant no harm tonight, they just wanted to know what was going on. They wanted to know, because it was interesting, nothing more than that. If you were them, you would be doing the exact same thing.

You sighed a little, and giggled, “it’s complicated right now and I don’t even know how he feels about this, I can’t say anything.” There was no one to blame but yourself for being in this situation.

All the girls slightly groaned and laughed. They were very respectful about not pressuring you to give up a name, but they did want to know more. And you obliged, trying to tell them as much as possible without giving away Charles’ identity.

That night when you walked back to the room, just you and Kelly now. You looked over at Kelly, “heads up next time.”

“Y/n, come on now, we both know you’re more serious about Charles than you want to be. You need to tell Max already,” Kelly looked at you seriously.

“I know that but it’s not..”

“It’s not what, y/n?” Kelly cut you off, “you spend more time at Charles place than at home anymore, this has been going on since April. At first I thought this was only during race weekends, only a little fun, but every weekend, every opportunity you get, you’re with Charles.” Kelly took a breath, “I understand that you’re afraid of what Max is gonna think, but he knows something is going on.”

“What do you mean he knows?”

“He knows there’s someone new in your life, he doesn’t know it’s Charles, but he knows.” Kelly could see the gears in your head turning, unsure what to do anymore, “why are you so afraid of what Max thinks?”

“I don’t know,” Kelly looked at you, like she didn’t believe you, “I really don’t know. Max has always made it clear, to me and Victoria both, that we weren’t allowed to date his friends. I feel like I went against him.”

“He’s not gonna be as upset as you think, tell him soon.” Kelly left you with that last statement.

You despised having to tell Max anything. But you knew you needed to do it. You wanted to tell Max before you talked to Charles about what your guys' relationship is. However you knew that telling Max during a race weekend wasn’t exactly ideal, so you figured you tell him after Sunday.

Then Max won in Spa, and you couldn’t possibly ruin his win in Spa, by telling him about Charles. And you needed to be there for Charles, this return after summer break wasn’t exactly how he planned for it to go. You couldn’t make this time difficult for Charles by asking him to think about your relationship before preparing for Zandvoort.

Then it was race weekend again, and it’s just not good to tell Max when he has other things to focus on. And your mom and sister were here to watch the race too, you didn’t want to cause a family fight during an important race.

So you didn’t mention it, and as you worked in the Redbull hospitality room, Kelly came up to you, and you knew what she was gonna say.

“I thought…”

“I know,” you cut Kelly off, “I’m gonna tell Max, soon just after the race on Sunday.”

“You better do it soon y/n,” Kelly said, “I love you, and when I found out about you and Charles, I was so happy for you because you looked so happy, but this is insane already. You and Charles should be going on dates in public, should be posting pictures together, should be a normal couple by now.”

“I don’t…” you took a deep breath, “I don’t know if Charles even wants that.”

“Do you want it?”

“Honestly,” you smiled to yourself, thinking about you and Charles, “I do. I really like him.”

Kelly smiled, “Tell Max, so you can tell Charles already.”

Saturday night, just after qualifying, Charles was laying in your bed once again. He said he wanted to see you before tomorrow. Even though Charles was right next to you in the room, he was far beyond your reach.

“Where are you, Charles?” You asked, as you laid cuddle up next to him.

“I don’t think I’m gonna win it this year,” Charles said.

“The season isn’t over yet.”

“I don’t even know if the team wants me to win,” Charles sighed, “maybe I’m not meant to be champion.” One thing you loved about Charles, he always took responsibility for his actions. One thing you hated about Charles, he took responsibility for everything, even if it wasn’t his doing.

“You will fight again next season, and the season after that, you will be champion, one day,” you spoke truthfully. Everyone knew it, everyone knew that Charles has the talent to be world champion. Even Max knew it, one day Charles would be champion.

“You think so?” Charles looked at you and smiled.

“I know it,” you smiled back, looking into Charles' eyes. His eyes were so filled with love, it almost made you sick.

“I meant to do it, I really did, but I got distracted,” you spoke to Kelly.

“Y/n, there’s too many rumors going around. Max is going to find out one way or another. You need to be the one to tell him, if not it’s gonna make everything worse.” Kelly scolded you, and you knew she was right. “It was different when no one noticed, but everyone is catching on already.”

Now or never.

You meant to tell Max, you really did, you were gonna do it before dinner. Privately, but tonight nonetheless, the family was getting together to celebrate Max’s victory. Then Max got called into an emergency meeting by the FIA, along with all the other drivers. And you being the great little sister you are, was waiting for Max at the hotel, before going back to the family house for dinner.

However the meeting changed everything. While at the meeting, the drivers were waiting for the directors to show up, no one knew exactly why they were being called in tonight. Charles was sitting next to Lando and George talking about the race. That is when Charles got a text from you.

Your contact in Charles’ phone being, ‘mon cherie <3,’ this peaked Lando’s interest.

“Who’s that Charles?” Lando asked eyeing Charles up, while George looked just the same.

“Pierre,” George called over, knowing that if anyone knew anything about Charles’ love life, it was Pierre, “who is Charles seeing right now?”

“No one,” Pierre said confusedly, and at that moment, Lando snatched the phone out of Charles' hand running away. He then tossed it to Carlos.

“Who is it Charles?” Lando asked after the toss.

“No one you know,” Charles answered as he rushed towards Carlos.

Carlos tossed the phone to George, “who is who?”

“No one,” Charles ran across the room to George.

George then tried to glimpse at a photo in the message, but ultimately tossed it towards Pierre, who was standing in front of the door now, “come on mate tell us.”

Pierre got the phone, looking at the photo that was open, his face turning pale when he realized who it was, “mate, no,” was all Pierre could manage to say. However before Charles could snatch the phone out of Pierre’s hand, in walked Max and Daniel.

It didn’t take long for Max to notice, a half naked picture of you with Charles hand wrapped around your throat, on the screen. “Gasly…” Max started off.

Pierre interrupted, saying, “it’s Charles’ phone,” before tossing the phone to Charles.

“Why is my sister on your phone, Leclerc?” If cartoons were real, there would be steam coming out of Max’s ears.

“Mate, I can explain,” Charles started off, as he slid the phone back into his pocket.

“You’re fucking my baby sister?” Max’s voice boomed throughout the room, “she’s a damn child Charles.”

“Come on mate, she’s twenty, two, zero. Four years, four years between us, how is she a child?”

“I know you Charles, you’re not the type to settle down, what are you gonna do, leave her when the season gets too tough.”

“Excuse me, are you suggesting that I’m just gonna bail on her as soon as life gets difficult?”

“That’s what you did to Giada, and that’s what you did to Charlotte.”

“Mate, that’s unfair to throw that in my face, when you know that’s not what happened.” Charles stood his ground, so angry with you for putting him in this situation, angry with Lando, George and Pierre for causing this. Angry at Max for throwing his past relationships in his face like that.

“You’re using my sister, and when you’re done, you’re gonna break her heart.” Max took a step closer towards Charles, “and when you do, I’m gonna put you into the ground.” Max was also angry. Angry that you deliberately avoided telling him the truth. Angry that you decided Charles was the best person to mess around with. Angry that Charles didn’t man up and tell him when this started. Angry that you went behind his back to date a driver. Max was so angry that he threw whatever he could at Charles, even if it wasn’t fair.

You sat in your hotel room, waiting for Max’s call about the meeting being over and you guys could go home. Instead you got a call from Charles.

“Hey,” you answered sweetly, happy to hear Charles voice.

“Y/n,” Charles tone sounded sad, maybe tired, definitely not his normal.

“What’s wrong?”

“Max knows, he saw a picture on my phone.”

“What do you mean he saw a picture?” Your own tone started to get defensive, “Charles what the hell happened? I told you I would tell him and then you go ahead and start pulling stunts to let Max know.”

“Are you seriously suggesting that I did this on purpose y/n?” Charles’ own tone getting more defensive.

“How else did he see a picture on your phone unless you showed him?”

“If you would listen for a second, Pierre had my phone, it was weird circumstances. If you would’ve just told Max in the first place none of this would be a problem right now.”

“Are you trying to suggest that I’m at fault right now?” You asked, getting more defensive and riled up right now.

“You are at fault, you should’ve just told Max from the beginning.”

“And what’s your excuse? You had many opportunities to tell Max, I never told you to not say anything, you made that decision on your own.”

“I would’ve told him, but you said this was just sex.”

“You’re the one that made this more complicated than just sex Charles.”

“You could’ve ended it whenever it got too complicated for you y/n,” Charles sighed out. Both of you guys could see where this was going, even if that’s not what either you wanted.

“Fine, this, whatever it was, it’s done.”

“Fine,” Charles responded, before hanging up. You wanted to scream, to cry, to yell at the world, to rip your heart from your chest. You cursed yourself for being in this situation, for loving Charles, for not telling Max in the beginning, for being so scared.

Before you could do anything you wanted, you heard a knock at your door. You went to look through the peephole and there was Max, red in the face. You laughed a little at yourself for being stupid enough to be in this position. You opened the door, letting Max in.

“Charles, Charles Lecler. That’s who you chose to go after,” Max started off, his tone already angry.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” you responded more monotone than you expected.

“You deliberately lied to me multiple times. I have made it abundantly clear to you and Victoria, to not go after a fellow driver. And you completely disregarded that. Charles is just using you for sex and you think he loves you. You think he cares about you. You don’t matter to him, he’s gonna continue to use you until he’s had his fun and then he’s gonna leave you just like he did to all the girls before you,” Max said. His words laced with a stinging venom that you despised. He brought you to tears faster than you wanted to, and he made your blood boil for suggesting those things about Charles.

“I don’t understand why you care so much, this is my life and I ought to live it how I see fit.” Your tone was more cruel than Max’s, you had never been so angry in your life until this moment. “You continuously treat me like I am a child, it’s because of you that none of the boys in school asked me or Victoria out, it’s because of you that me and Victoria have never been in a serious relationship, it’s because of you. And your continuous act of being my father, when you’re not. You’re not even my real brother.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to take them back. You wanted to rewind in time, and stop yourself from ever opening your mouth. You wanted to go back to before the meeting to tell Max before this all happened. You wanted to go back to when Kelly told you to tell Max. You wanted to go back to when Charles asked how much more lying. You wanted to go back to Australia, and stop yourself from taking that last shot.

“Max, I didn’t…”

“I see, if that’s how you feel.” Max spoke, as he walked out of the room.

Part two

#first #five #tags #don’t #work #charles leclerc smut #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smut #formula 1 au #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 angst

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