#but I don't really *like* him very much right now

[yeahxsurexokay13]

bragger - lando norris

summary: fans constantly tease yn for always bringing lando up and being a bit of a simp for her boyfriend - which only gets worse after his first f1 win - so she writes a song about how if they were her they'd do the same.

warnings: none i think??? but let me know if i missed any. the song mentioned is 'bragger' by kelsea ballerini!! (((:

IN HONOUR OF LANDO'S VERY FIRST WIN !! 🥇

y/n.updates

Liked by fan22 and 1.340 others

y/n.updates Y/n's interview with WIRED where she answers the web's most searched questions about her is now out! Go give it a watch 😄

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fan1 she looked painfully beautiful in this

fan2 how was lando in the answer for questions like 'does y/n speak spanish?' or 'is y/n a good singer?' lol

fan7 she said she didn't remember much from high school but knew some words lando had been taught by carlos sainz and that her boyfriend tells her she is... it kind of isn't that weird if u think about it haha

user1 The more I see of her, the more I like her

fan7 i spy with my little eye 1.6K people with no taste

fan3 interview was everything I hoped for and more! she's hilarious and relatable as always

fan4 new drinking game: take a shot every time she mentions lando

fan5 I've watched it like 5 times already lol

fan6 we need a tally for how many times Y/n drops 'Lando' in her interviews. can someone make that happen?

y/n.y/l

Liked by carlossainz55 and 1.890.321 others

y/n.y/l the vibe i bring to the function (ugly crying on facetime) !!! so incredibly happy for you @/landonorris. you did it 🧡🧡🧡

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y/n.y/l also congrats @/oscarpiastri and everyone else at mclaren for an amazing race ((((:

oscarpiastri thank you Y/n! 🧡 ❤️ by author

landofan4 ok this is very cute and nice of her🥺🥺

fan1 ARE YOU STILL CRYING ? BECAUSE I AM DEFINITELY STILL CRYING

y/n.y/l started crying on lap 54 and haven't stopped since

fan2 new post from my fave lando norris fan account yay (also go lando!!!!!!)

user1 Well deserved 👏🏼👏🏼

landofan3 soy lago

y/n.y/l same

lnfour LFGGGG ❤️ by author

fan3 How many times do you think Y/n's going to mention Lando's win in the next week? Taking bets now

maxfewtrell It's the messy hair and smudged mascara for me

y/n.y/l knew i should've gone for the 'perfectly composed while crying' look instead 😔

landofan1 rip lando nowins: 2019-2024 ❤️ by author

landofan2 "you were scared? i wasn't. i was ok (laughs). thank you. i love you" lando 🥹🥹🥹

fan5 when did he say that? omg

landofan2 f1 posted a reel on their profile and you can hear him talking to her!

mclaren LANDO NORRIS IS A FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER 🏆

y/n.y/l I AM SO NOT CALM ABOUT THIS ??!!?

user2 i could've sworn i saw her at the race? why are they facetiming?

fan4 they could barely speak after the win tbh! this is probably a call in between interviews

user2 today's bottle smash hit different ❤️ by author

landonorris I've said this like a million times already today but I love you so much

y/n.y/l i love you i love you i love you i love you

y/n.y/l

Liked by pietra.pilao and 1.809.896 others

y/n.y/l if he was yours, you'd do the same without apologising... new single 'bragger' out now!!!! 💋💋

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fan6 WHAT HAPPENED TO HWLLO ?? HOW ARE YIU ??

y/n.y/l 🫢🫢

fan1 "he's just too damn good not to mention" .....................i mean she is right we'll give that to her ❤️ by author

landofan1 USING THESE SPECIFIC PICS OF LANDO TO ANNOUNCE THE RELEASE OF A SINGLE ABOUT BRAGGING ABOUT HIM IS WILD !!!!

landofan5 that last video is doing things to me.........

landonorris i'm confused does anyone know who this is about?

y/n.y/l no idea 🤷🏽‍♀️ but let me know if you find out xx

landofan4 apparently about some guy named bob?? I'm not sure

fan8 HAHAHA I LOVE THEM

fan2 she really wanted to make sure she'd made her point clear with this dump omfg

fan3 her point: she has a hot bf and we don't

user1 Well played, Y/N. Well played. 🥸

fracisca.cgomes On repeat ❤️❤️

y/n.y/l lindaaaaaaa ❤️

landofan2 knowing all she's saying is about lando makes the song x1000 times better

fan7 so she saw the tweets... 😐

y/n.y/l i saw everything 👀 they were actually hard to miss hahaha

user2 "i understand why you would want him (i don't mind)" queen behaviour !!!!!! 👑👑

fan4 So this is how she gets back at us for all the teasing lol not complaining at all

landofan3 I can't believe this new song is actually inspired by the fans' teasing about Lando!!🤣

fan5 we joked, she delivered!!! bragger is actually a banger👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

#singer!reader #social media au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris smau

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Creations Dance

Danny likes to dance in the night sky while flying in his new ghostly form which is very ethereal holding glimpses of different parts of space and creations unknown, this continues even after he moves to Gotham.

The sky around him becomes his stage,

A stage that matches him and follows his lead.

Gotham has never had such clear skies, able to see each and every star shining brightly.

Twinkling in many colours almost seeming to dance alongside Danny,

Sharing his joy in their existence.

~

Duke had seen the new phenomenon that was Gotham's skies, who hadn't it was all he would hear people talking around him anytime he left the house, speaking of which were also discussing the same.

Bruce, Tim, and Barbara all researching to see what had caused the change, their bet so far was on magic but not sure who or what was causing it or the reason why.

He had seen the others also poking around seeing if they could find a lead.

But the most curious of all being Jason's new demeanor, ever since the night skies had changed he seemed to calm down almost seeming peaceful.

Which don't get him wrong was a great thing to happen but the timing of it all was too weird, honestly even Bruce was tense about the sudden turn around in demeanor.

So with everyone else occupied he decided he might as well go and enjoy the night sky, it was a very amazing view to miss out on.

He had discovered a new spot a bit far from home but it was quiet and private and would make the perfect spot to stargaze comfortably without being interrupted.

~

He had fallen asleep accidentally but something had woken him up.

He noticed that it was cold, cold enough that he could just barely see his breath in the air in front of him which should not be possible since it was almost summer, had Mr.Freeze escaped?

Looking around now alert he caught a flash of something up above his head.

Looking up he saw..light and darkness and so many things that his mind couldn't comprehend rather less describe.

His eyes shifted trying to make out what he was seeing, in the center was a being..dancing?

The being seemed to feel his eyes on them because in the next moment they turned to stare at him.

He could feel the weight of their eyes on him their entire presence focused around him radiating power and joy.

Continuing to stare at each other the only thing Duke could think of was,

"You're gorgeous.."

Duke snapped back realizing he had said that out loud his face warming, but the being in front of him seemed delighted.

"Thank you! I'm surprised you're able to see me."

"It's hard not to, you were dancing so happily I could feel it in my chest."

They-he? floated closer

"If you liked my dancing so much you could continue to visit me here to see."

" If you're okay with it then I would really like that, my name is Duke."

"It's a date then Duke! You can call me Danny."

~

God what was he going to tell the others? He found the cause for the change in Gotham but Danny seemed to be good, not a villain.

Well he'll keep it a secret for a while more right now he had to prepare for his date!

~

Duke sees Danny dancing around in the sky: "We'll have a winter wedding."

~

Duke seeing the Bats stressing and losing sleep trying to figure what's going on: "Should I say something? Hm nah."

~

Danny Dancing around in the sky while Duke is in the background being a supporting bf cheering him on with pom poms: "That's my boyfriend woo~!"

~

The bats for some reason arguing about each other's past relationships and crushes

Steph pointing at Dick: You're the one with the strangest taste seriously out of everyone in this family Duke and I are the only ones with normal taste! Right Duke!"

Duke " My Boyfriend is a Being/Ancient Ghost of Space That Most of the Time Doesn't Look Human/Humanoid" Thomas: * face sweating while he tries to sneak out of the room* "Umm..*voice crack* y-yeah."

~

I really enjoyed writing this one, I don't see a lot of Duke/Danny, but the works I've read are all so wonderful ♡

~

Just an Idea

#nightlight #duke x danny #Space Acient Danny au #duke thomas #signal dc #dpxdc #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #batman #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp

[fangirl-dot-com]

🧡❤️Dating Your Enemy's Sibling

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor/SMAU Summary: How to get under your enemy/rival's skin? Charles answer was to start dating his younger sister. But now, he's glad he found love along the way. He only had to tell Max about the relationship when you won a race. That's won't be any time soon though . . . right?

*in honor of Lando's first win - here's this next installment of Reverse Tropes! I know that Max and Charles really aren't enemies. Maybe I should have done like a Pierre and Esteban thing, but I don't write for them. So here we go and please enjoy!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. 

Predestined rivals, written in the stars, invisible string, yada-yada-yada. 

Putting it simply, Charles had an apt for pissing Max off and vice-versa. The world thought they would kill each other in karting, especially after the 2012 incident. The population sighed in relief when Max was taken from F3 and put in a Formula 1 car, while Charles took a bit longer. 

And then Charles made it to Formula 1 in 2018. However, he was put in a HAAS, a car that was not really made to play with the other cars in the front of the pack. The earth was saved yet another year. 

Well, until 2019 when Charles suddenly became the “It Boy” for the Prancing Horse. Meaning, that he could finally go back to terrorizing the grid and Max. But with terrorizing the grid came loads of trouble and hatred. 

And more pissing off your rival. 

Charles seethed on the podium as he listened to the Dutch national anthem and watched Max point to the stupid “H” on his race suit. He held in a scoff. At least the Ferrari logo was much better looking than that. 

It wasn’t fair. He had the racing line and Max pushed him off. If his mind wandered, it would go back to a certain kart race back in 2012 where he pulled the same move. But that didn’t count because the race has already finished. Charles would have rather been disqualified instead of having to go through the torture of being up on the podium in second. 

First loser as they call it. 

The Monegasque driver held no happiness in his body as Max started spraying his winner’s champagne. Charles just picked up his bottle and drank it. 

Still wasn’t as sweet as victory champagne would be. 

He deliberately separated himself from Max as they stood for a picture. The visible gap made it much more hilarious for everyone around them. 

When the festivities finished, he hightailed it out of there, just wanting to avoid the Dutchman presence. Charles sighed loudly as he walked back to the garage, definitely not in the mood to talk to anyone. 

“Charlie!

The Monegasque stopped in his tracks, annoyance almost wracking his entire being. Can people just let him wallow in defeat? He straightened his shoulders and turned around, PR smile plastered on his face. However, the very fake smile turned into a real one when he noticed that you were almost jogging to catch up with him. 

Y/n Verstappen. 

You had always been a part of his childhood. Where Max was, you were one step behind him, following him in your small racing overalls. He remembered how little you always seemed compared to your brother. But size didn’t matter on the karting course. 

Most of the time, the two boys found themselves trying to shake you off and others were behind your kart, picking up the dirt that you sent their way. And that’s why Charles put your name down as recommendations for his Prema seat after he won the championship in 2017. Because of him, you were able to graduate to Formula 2 and were on the track to make a debut in Formula 1 in the coming years. 

“Hey Y/n,” Charles said softly, still not in the mood to really talk to anyone. But for you, he’d always make an exception. And he was supposed to fly back with you and Max, something he was still dreading. 

You look at the Monegasque with sympathy. Charles wasn’t able to find any type of pity in your blue eyes (that matched Max’s). 

Your brows furrowed as to talked to him. “What Max did wasn’t the right way to race. But Formula 1 is getting more and more competitive.” 

The man, er boy, wanted to huff. He did not need this conversation from you. He almost turned around, but the next few sentences stopped him from making any motions. 

“Charlie, you’ve always found ways to beat him. If he wants to play like this, then you just have to give him a taste of his medicine, get under his skin. Do what you always do and somehow get around him.” 

He cocked his head, before his eyes lit up. 

Get under his skin.

You watched as Charles’s eyes filled up with some light, making the green in them really shine. You could almost see ideas concocting in his head.

Charles went to say something, but was interrupted by his team principle. He swerved to respond before he turned back to you. There was a glint in his eyes that you really couldn’t put a finger on. 

His took a deep breath before asking, “Do you want to maybe get dinner with me?” 

Your eyes widened. Sure, the Monegasque was very attractive, but those were not the words that you were expecting to come out of his mouth. 

Oh. 

Now you got it. 

Your facial expressions melted a bit, eyes pointed toward the ground as you kicked at it. Your arms crossed as you huffed. 

“Using me for gain over my brother wasn’t what I was meaning Charles. I was thinking more like unfollow him on social media while we’re on the plane or something.” 

The harsh “Ch” that began his name had him wincing. Like your brother, you had a small lisp which normally softened the two consonants to the point where his name sounded like it was supposed to be. And what was “Charles?” You rarely ever called him that, choosing to pick the more boyish nickname. 

Although, your idea about Instagram wasn’t a bad one. 

Charles looked a bit guilty as he scratched the back of his head. He honestly was endeared by you and your determination to never give up. He found you, well, cute. You were still 19, younger than him by a bit more than three years. 

But if you were cute back in 2012 hanging on to Max’s wet overalls after the puddle, and you were cute now trying to console him instead of celebrating your brother’s victory, you would still be cute in the following years. 

He sighed, knowing that he had to leave soon or he was going to get an earful from Sebastian for being late to yet another meeting. The Ferrari driver stepped forward a bit, getting closer to you. He looked down at his helmet before looking back to your eyes. 

“When I win and when I beat your brother, then can I take you out to dinner?” 

You mulled over the question in your head. 

If he beat Max before you went out with him, then that meant that he was actually genuine and wasn’t using it to his gain. You also smirked, knowing that indeed it would piss Max off whenever he found out. Your position as an annoying younger sister would still be intact and possibly stronger. 

You held out your hand, which Charles took in an instant. 

“Deal Leclerc.” 

“Deal Verstappen.” 

When Charles took the top step in Spa, pride filled his chest when he noticed Max’s glare at him. He had beaten the Dutchman at his home race. Albeit, it was a DNF for Max, but a win either way.  He swayed back and forth as his national anthem played and then sang quietly along with the Italian anthem. Deep in his heart, he knew the true weight of the win. 

For Anthoine. 

He knew somewhere he made his French friend proud. Just like Jules. And Just like Papa.

Charles watched down below as you looked like you could hardly keep a smirk off your face. And it was bad too as you stood next to Max, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there below Charles. 

The Monegasque raised his eyebrows when you locked eyes. You just hoped that Max wouldn’t catch on that he was staring right at you. Thankfully, you were right next to a Ferrari manager, so Max could guess that Charles was looking at him. 

When the winner finally got ready, you were waiting outside his garage. 

“Hi,” you whispered, putting your phone away. Charles didn’t verbally respond, but he wrapped his arms around you. You melted in his arms, still smelling a bit of the champagne in his hair. 

He looked down at you. 

“Are you ready for dinner?” 

Your eyes held a playful glint. “I hope you chose a good restaurant Leclerc.” 

He scoffed, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you turned to leave. “Only the best Verstappen.” 

The dinner went really well, but you weren’t expecting it to be a continual thing. 

And then Charles won in Monza the next week, and he once again asked you to dinner. And once again, the Monegasque set expectations higher than you every imagined. You were saddened when Charles wasn’t able to win any more races while your brother seemed to get better and better each race. 

You could only giggle while you watched them still avoid each other in Singapore. 

But, the dinners turned into texting, and texting turned to other dates, and dates turned into dating, and dating turned into a relationship, and the relationship turned into an almost five year commitment that you or Charles weren’t planning to end soon. 

The relationship saw your brother become a world champion in 2021, Charles becoming a world champion in 2022, and you joining the grid as a rookie for McLaren after a disastrous attempt for an Alpine seat.

Charles had been furious and Max had almost found out about the relationship. The two of you were still scared that Max might hold some coldness for the past. But when he called Charles “Charlie,” the special nickname that you had for him, you thought that it might be a good idea to tell him. 

“But mon ange, he will run me off the track if he finds out,” Charles whined into your stomach as you played with his hair before the Miami Grand Prix. 

You rolled your eyes and tugged at the strands. “No he won’t. You have to worry about your teammate doing that to you instead.” 

Another whine left Charles making you giggle. 

“At least you’re starting on the front row. I have to start P5! Oscar has been making fun of me all weekend.” 

The Aussie had been such a God send for you during your rookie season. The elder by a few months had taken you under his wing. The two of you had been so close to a win last year, and with the upgrades this weekend, you were sure that you or him would start on the front row. 

And then you had to be hit during the sprint, which didn’t help the mechanics in the hours before the race quali. That in turn made your car feel weird and P5 was the best you could do. Maybe Charles was secretly transferring his unluckiness into you. 

The Monegasque turned his head to look you in the eyes. You smiled as you leaned down to kiss the top of his head. 

“We’ll tell him when I win a race. How about that?” 

Charles knew that you were just unlucky as he was when it came to winning a race. Last year,  you had been close in Spa, but a rouge rainstorm saw you spinning out on the second to last lap. Austin you had pole, but Max fought you on into turn one, making you go wide. You never saw your brother after the first lap as you fell down the grid. Charles held you each night as you cried. 

The red-clad-driver sat up and held your head in his hands. “You’ll win soon enough. Maybe not this weekend because I don’t have any time to prepare.” 

You laughed and just brought him in to a kiss. There was literally no way you could win this weekend. Beating Max Verstappen with pole from P5 on a track that he had a 100% win rate at? 

Impossible.

Charles thought he was going to cry as he crossed the line in P3. From you winning or having to tell your bother that he defiled his baby sister, he didn’t know. 

What he did know was that he was going to get out of his car and congratulate you immediately. What were the odds that you won on the anniversary of the stupid inchident, the first time that Charles had ever seen you with Max. 

(And yes, he did remember the anniversary but didn’t want to bring it up.) 

You, however, were frozen in your car. You took some deep breaths as you took the steering wheel off, stood up a bit, bent to put it back on, and straightened, holding your pointer finger up. Your fists clenched as you raised them, automatically hearing the crowds roar when you waved. 

A tug on your sleeve brought you down into Max’s arms. You were a bit disappointed that it wasn’t Charles, but that would be too obvious. 

“YOU DID IT!” Max yelled in your ear, well, your helmet as you hadn’t taken the neon thing off yet. 

You really didn’t want people to see the tear stains on your face. But right now, you’d just stay in the protection of your brother’s arms. When he let go of you, he lifted your visor, twin eyes meeting yours. 

“You did such an amaz-”

“I’m dating Charles.” 

Blink. 

Blink. 

Blink. 

You took the moment of a frozen Max to turn to your team. You looked over your shoulder to see that the Dutchman was still stuck in his place as you got farther and farther away. You grimaced, knowing what was to come if Max and Charles met at any time when you weren’t there. 

An arm around your shoulders brought you out of your head. The light blue caught your eyes, signaling that it was Charles. He patted your shoulders, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. You did feel a bit of pressure move your helmet, so he must have quickly smushed his face into the black swirls. A helmet kiss if you would guess. 

You wanted to turn around to warn him of the imminent danger that was waiting for him in the form of Max Verstappen, but you were led away before you could. 

Your fears immediately went away though when your eyes finally landed on your team. Helmet thrown to the ground, you made the decision to throw yourself at them as well. Your laughs could be heard as your mechanics lifted you higher as everyone seemed to want to congratulate you for their first win since Monza 2021, which you weren’t even on the team then. 

When Charles stepped into the cooldown room, he could feel the awkwardness. It also didn’t help that Max was glaring at him from the corner. Charles was a bit worried. He thought that Max was fine with him now after they had both sort of mended their weird friendship during 2023. 

He turned to you as you walked in, all sweaty. 

Charles still thought you looked very pretty. 

“Eyes off Leclerc.” 

Charles froze in his place and looked between the siblings. He looked at you, then Max, then you, and then Max again. You winced, not looking him in the eyes. Realization flooded his body and he thought for a moment he was going to pass out.  

“Mon Dieu.” 

“We will be talking after this,” Max pointed, drinking from his water bottle, not taking his eyes off Charles. 

When you were called to the little Jeeps, you quickly got into the bright pink Barbie-esque looking one, still buzzing from your win. Even if the two men behind you had put a damper on it. 

Charles’s eyes only fixed on one of the cars, not even seeing the third one behind the second. He climbed right in, eyes closed as he sat down. However, his eyes shot open when the car tilted and a thigh was touching his. He gulped rather loudly, refusing to look to his right. 

This was Vegas all over again. 

Max kept his voice low. “When did it start?” 

“2019. After Austria.” 

“Why?” 

“I wanted to get to know her more.” 

“What was the reason Charles?” 

The Monegasque sighed as he ran his hand over his face. “I was angry at you and wanted to get back at you somehow.” 

He knew he was about to be punched on live television, but he continued hoping for redemption. 

“But, I knew that was wrong. We didn’t even go out until Spa. And then again in Monza. And then it just happened.” 

He turned to look directly at Max, knowing that he only had a few more moments before they had to go out onto the podium. 

“Max I love your sister. I have the ring and everything. We’ve been happy for 5 years and have made it work. Please, she’s really all the good I have left. I would throw everything away for her. And-”

Max’s laughs stopped him from continuing. The Dutchman slapped a hand on Charles’s thigh, making him wince a bit. 

The Red Bull driver’s eyes were crinkled with a smile as they pulled up to the parking spot. 

“Just keep her happy, or I will run you off the track.” 

“Y/n! I told you he’d threaten me!” 

��Max!” 

“Oh come on I did not!” 

y/nverstappen4 has posted

y/nverstappen4 WE DID IT! P1 BABAYYYYYYY 🏆

nothing beats a podium with me on the top step surrounded by my boys 💙🧡❤️

liked by mclaren, team_quadrant, charles_leclerc, and 2,903,940 others

queeny/n LETS ACTUALLY GOOOOOOOOO

mclaren that's our girl 🧡 well deserved

lecstappenshipper this is basically a hard launch

y/nhaswins such a beautiful race y/n!!!!

charles_leclerc so so proud of you mon ange 🧡❤️ *liked by y/nverstappen4*

charles_leclerc celebrations tonight? 😈

y/nverstappen4 but of course

maxverstappen1 I know where you sleep leclerc 🙂

y/nverstappen4 DRINKS ON MAX TONIGHT

oscarpiastri YEAAHHHHHHH 🍾

maxverstappen1 what?

charles_leclerc thank you max ☺️

maxverstappen1 I NEVER AGREED TO THIS

oscarpiastri mega job mate 👊

y/nverstappen4 ossieeeeeee 👊 don't worry, you'll be up there soon! just gotta wrap your car in bubble wrap to protect it from evil ferrari 😠😤

charles_leclerc ☹️

y/nverstappen4 NOT YOU CHARLIE - THE OTHER ONE (LEWIS HURRY UP)

lewishamilton you don't think I'm trying 🤨

mcy/n she's so funny what the heck?? 😂

chefy/n we said - LET HER COOK

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #Charles Leclerc x driver reader #Charles Leclerc x verstappen!reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 x driver!reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x you #Charles Leclerc #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula one smau #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula one x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic

[jewish-vents]

I went to the Jewish quarter in Toledo today and I really don’t know how to feel. I’m part Sephardi, my ancestors most likely lived here at some point. I went to the Beit Knesset they would have went to, the oldest one in Europe, I think— it’s a museum now. Part of the floor was clearly new, and part of the floor was clearly ancient. I took a picture of the ancient part, the part that my ancestors would have also stepped on. There was a cross right under the two orange windows representing the Ten Commandments that Moshe brought down, and right next to that there were Christian murals of baby angels. It was beautiful, but there was such a tangible sadness to it, deadness, almost, that I couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable. The non Jewish tourists didn’t notice it, and that made me even more uncomfortable

There was a gift shop right next to the Beit Knesset. They were selling menorahs, not chanukias, seven-pronged menorahs— and all I could think of was ‘who is this for? Not for the Jewish tourists who come here, obviously, menorahs are for Beitei Knesset, not for home. Who is this for?’ It felt wrong. Later on, I saw the exact same menorahs in a different shop, a street away. This isn’t Judaica— Judaica isn’t mass produced like that, normally it’s handmade. It’s made with love, with care, it’s made with a Jewish touch. None of the items in this gift shop have a Jewish touch to them. Feeling like I was selling out my people, I bought a couple magen David magnets from there anyway

The Jewish part of Toledo feels… I’m not sure how to say it, but it’s like a remnant. You can tell that there was something before this, but that something is gone, it’s been wiped out. And that something was Jewish. And now it just drifts through this town, like dust, never properly gone but never enough than a vague feeling. And on top of all of that is a thick layer of Catholicism, and the knowledge of the brutality that brought this Jewish cultural centre to decimation

Toledo doesn’t really acknowledge what it did to its Jews. There’s a small square on the wall of a very old house, one that most certainly used to belong to a Jew before, that talks about Shmuel Levi, saying how he would rather have died by torture than become a confessor— they call him Samuel there, though, and I feel kind of stupid for how much I resent that. But that’s it. Instead they’re giving museum tours of the two Beite Knesset that used to exist before they were converted to being churches, and then war rooms, and now attractions. They’re selling Judaica that isn’t Judaica, right next to figures of Yeshu bleeding out on the cross. They’ve got small חי tiles on the corners of the street, but all I can think of is the Jews that were slaughtered in this town by the ancestors of the people who are now living in what were their houses

All I can think of is the pork being sold everywhere, and all the chametz people are eating before the sun sets on the last day of pesach

(sorry for the pretentious poetic language, I’m a writer I can’t help it)

Thank you for sharing this. There is something almost haunting about visiting places that were once Jewish but aren't anymore. I once saw a quote somewhere about how Memory is a sixth sense for Jewish people (I don't remember where I saw it but will try to find it again). Reading this reminded me of that.

I don't have many words of comfort. I actually don't live that far from Toledo. Our shul is tiny, but we have a kosher Torah from the time of the Inquisition. We outlived them.

-🐺

#jewish vents #antisemitism #tw mentions of genocide #jumblr #toledo #am yisrael chai

[kookygranger]

Top five, most memorable kisses of all time

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Corroded Coffin move to Chicago and find their people. Eddie finds you behind the counter at Championship Records. He thinks you're cool. You think he's gorgeous. Life outside of Hawkins might just be worth fighting for.

Warnings: swearing, kissing (obvs), fluff, fem!reader, mostly Eddie's POV, our boy has no rizz, alcohol consumption, I don't think anything else, too many high fidelity references?

Word count: 4k

Author's note: This is a one-shot, that has been sitting in my drafts since last Halloween and thanks to a wip game has finally seen the light of day! Find the playlist that inspired the fic below.

Masterlist

One pill makes you larger,

And one pill makes you small

The bell above the door jingles as Eddie steps through the threshold, his shoulders relaxing as the warmth seeps back into him and he scans the racks of records before him. Perking up as he notices the music playing over the speakers, he was still getting used to how much cooler things were in Chicago than back home – and shit, how much cooler people were.

Eddie clocks you sitting on top of the counter with one leg crossed under you, the other swinging down the side as you sticker a stack of vinyl. You mouth along with the music, not even noticing him slip through the aisles as he stops in a random section with a perfect view of you across the small store.

He’d only come in here to kill some time between soundcheck and the gig tonight at a venue down the street. The rest of the band had gone to find some food, but Eddie wanted to check out the record store they passed on the drive in. And boy, was he glad he did.

He mindlessly flicks through the records in front of him, trying to come up with a good conversation starter. It wasn’t that often that he missed Steve Harrington, but he could sure use one of the boy’s famous pep talks right about now. Fuck, what was it about pretty girls that got him so tongue-tied? Probably the pretty part.

But you weren’t just pretty, you were obviously very cool, and he certainly wasn’t used to girls sharing the same interests as him – but he’d met a lot of them since he’d moved to Chicago a couple of months ago.

Just as he’s thinking about what albums he could pick out to impress you, the bell above the door jingles again. A guy around his age walks in, his short hair spiked, nose and ears pierced and tattoos peeking out from a crisp white t-shirt. He walks with confidence to where you sit and makes you jump slightly as he greets you boisterously.

“Shit, you scared me.”

He snickers and starts rummaging through a crate of cassettes by the counter.

“Yeah, you look like you were in the zone. Did you even notice you had a customer?”

You turn your head in Eddie’s direction just as he ducks his down, continuing to flick through the disco section. Wait, shit where’s the metal?

“Shit.” You whisper under your breath and turn your attention back to the other guy, not quite lowering your voice enough so Eddie couldn’t eavesdrop. “No, but in my defence this song is a banger.”

Severin, Severin, speak so slightly

Severin, down on your bended knee

“What the fuck are you listening to anyway?”

“I made a pre-Halloween mix. Music that led to goth before goth was a thing.” You frown as you try to unstick a bright red sticker from the price gun you’d been tapping on the pile of vinyl.

Eddie smiles to himself as he continues to pretend he’s browsing and not tuning into your conversation.

“Are you coming to The Allied tonight? There’s some new band from Indiana or something playing. Apparently, they do a sick cover of Master of Puppets.”

Eddie pauses in his faux perusing for a second as he awaits your reply.

“I wasn’t really planning on it, no.”

The guy huffs, “No? What was your plan, going home to sulk to The Velvet Underground?”

“I don’t sulk–“

“You do when you listen to The Velvet Underground.”

“What do you want me to do? Pogo to Heroin? Anyway, I was gonna work on an article actually.”

“Why don’t you write about this band tonight? Tim says they’re pretty good. He saw them a couple of weeks ago at the Metro.”

“Tim said that about that god-awful noise band that played at De Salle’s. It was the worst four hours of my life. I thought my ears were actually going to bleed.”

“Whatever, you say that like you’re not currently playing the most depressing German synth music that nobody in their right mind would listen to.” He points his hand in the air, drawing your attention to the new song playing from the speakers behind you.

“First of all, this is David Bowie’s Low. And if you knew as much about music as you claim to, you’d know that this was his seminal work in his Berlin era and an ambient soundscape masterpiece. Secondly–“

“I like it.”

Both of your heads shoot up at Eddie’s interruption. He blushes and clears his throat as you catch his eye and the corner of your mouth quirks up. “Sorry, I just–it’s a good mixtape. I like the theme.” He frowns and shakes his head at himself, he doesn’t know what came over him. Who is this guy that’s bothering you, anyway? You have amazing taste and he’s now sure you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. You gesture in his direction and look back at the guy that’s teasing you.

“The customer is always right, Simon.”

Eddie moves quickly to the B section and finds the album you were talking about before heading over to you.

“Did you find everything you need?” You smile at him sweetly as you hop off the counter and take the record from him. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked before. Customer service isn’t exactly my strongest skill.”

The guy, Simon, snorts. Eddie can’t take his eyes off the way your face lights up quietly when you realise what album he picked.

“What are your strongest skills?” That was such a weird question Munson, what the hell?

You look up at him a little taken aback, before a small smile creeps up on you.

“Talking about music…or” you shake your head in contemplation, “writing about it actually.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Maybe it’s not so much a skill, more like an obsession.”

“She’s actually kind of good.” Simon butts in with a shrug and you roll your eyes.

“Such a high compliment cuz.”

You were cousins. He still had a shot.

“You write for magazines?”

“Zines mostly,” you point to a stack of xeroxed pamphlets on the counter, “but I’ve published a few reviews with Spin and The Face.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “That’s pretty cool.”

You breathe out a laugh and take the cash he hands you, collecting his change. “Thanks.”

“Wait, you're Eddie, right?” He turns to Simon, almost forgetting he was there. “Your band’s playing at The Allied tonight? I met your drummer Gareth at a show last week.”

“Uh yeah, that’s me. We’re called Corroded Coffin.”

“Cool name.” You smirk and hand him his record wrapped in paper. Eddie tucks it under his arm, his dimples showing as he smiles back at you.

“Thanks.”

“You’re from Indiana then?” You call back to Simon’s earlier statement, as Eddie doesn’t make a move to immediately leave.

He rubs the back of his neck as he nods, “Yeah. Just moved here a couple of months ago with my band.”

“Welcome to Chicago, Eddie.” You smile and introduce yourself, “Let me know if there’s ever anything I can do for you…vinyl wise I mean.”

“Thanks,” he scratches the stubble on his jaw before stepping away from the counter. “Maybe I’ll see you tonight at the show?” He tries to keep his voice casual, but there’s a hint of hope in there.

You bite your lip and shrug, “Yeah, maybe you will.”

Eddie nods and takes his queue to leave, the bell jingling again as he steps back out into the cold.

“Yeah, maybe you will.” Simon mocks you in a breathy imitation and you roll your eyes. “So now that you know the singer is cute are you coming?”

“Obviously! You better get me on the door list, or I swear to god I’m telling Aunt Carol about the stash in your underwear drawer.”

***

“Hey, Carlos.” You greet your friend at the door of The Allied, who waves you in without payment. “That Darondo record came in, I put it aside for you.” You call back on your way in, hearing a muffled thanks as the music from inside hits your eardrums.

There’s a decent crowd tonight, and you have to push past a few people to reach the sticky top bar.

“Oh, she showed up! Surprise, surprise.” Simon makes his way over to you, ignoring the calls of indignance as he passes other customers. He slings a rag over his shoulder, which makes you bite your lip, attempting to hold in a laugh, remembering how he’d practised that move in the mirror when he turned twenty-one and landed the second most coveted job of your teenage selves.

You shrug nonchalantly, despite your cousin knowing the exact reason you’re here. “I ended up doing inventory ‘till late. Thought I may as well drop by before catching the L.”

Simon flicks your nose, your retaliating slap missing him as he moves to pour your drink. You thank him with a forced smile when he slides it across the bar, picking it up and turning to find a spot in the crowd.

“No tip?”

You call over your shoulder, “Yeah, take it easy on the cologne.” You smirk, not even having to turn around to know he’s probably sniffing his shirt.

You take your usual spot leaning against the wall, up the back and away from most of the crowd. Your rule was front row or back. None of that squished in the middle, view blocked by the tallest guy you’d ever seen crap. Either it was front and centre, immersed in the moment, or your own space with a view of it all.  

You’d never be up front for a band you didn’t know, and tonight was no exception, no matter how large the butterflies in your stomach at the prospect of seeing him again.

You don’t know what it was about Eddie, apart from the obvious fact that he was gorgeous. Maybe it was something in his presence. But when he walked up to the counter earlier with a record you’d just been talking about and a shy smile on his face – you were a goner.

The murmurs of the crowd quieten when the house lights are switched off, a yellow glow on the stage and above the bar now the only sources of light.

There are a few enthusiastic cheers when the band appear from a door behind the stage and a smattering of applause as they take their place. You take a sip of your drink, ignoring the feeling in your chest when Eddie steps up to the mic and adjusts his red Warlock guitar. He smiles and you duck your head, trying not to look too much like the girl who’s just fallen for a lead singer when he addresses the crowd.

“Evening. Hope you brought your earplugs, this one’s new.” The quiet, reservedness of his introduction and the boy you’d met earlier is undone with the first crashing of cymbals and thrash of power chords.

Stage Eddie isn’t what you were expecting, but still somehow makes total sense. He’s more comfortable, more himself up there as he thrashes back and forth, hair whipping wildly. And they’re good. Really good.

Maybe you’d write about them after all.

The band are almost through their set when he spots you. Your back straightens as his eyes lock onto yours. Normally you hate making eye contact with someone on stage, but you can’t seem to look away when his chocolate-brown gaze twinkles over the heads of the rest of the crowd. In between songs, he gives you a wave, and you nod, returning his small smile.

When they finish, you move back to the bar. Waiting for the lingering fans to clear over a rum and coke. You’re only on your second sip when you feel a burning hot presence behind you.

“You made it.”

You turn around, and Eddie leans an arm on the bar beside you, moving in closer as the growing line pushes him forward.

“I did.” You nod, taking another sip of your drink.

He clears his throat, pushing his sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“So, uh, what did you think?”

You smile, “I think you’re going to fit in very well here.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” he chuckles.

“Oh, it is. You’re one of us now. Welcome to the dark side, Eddie.”

His eyebrows raise, the ghost of a smirk kicking up when you’re interrupted by your cousin.

“Man, that was sick! What can I get ya?”

Eddie thanks Simon, then looks back at you, “What are you having?” He holds up two fingers when you answer, signalling for another round, then starts playing with a beermat while you wait. Your eyes are trained to the glint of silver on his fingers.

“How are you liking Chicago so far?”

Eddie looks back at you and puffs his cheeks up as he exhales. “Honestly?... I didn’t know life could be this good.”

You feel a sharp tingling in your nose as your eyes well up a little for the boy standing in front of you, his cheeks dusted with pink as he tries to hold back a smile.

“Trust me, things are only gonna get better from here.”

“Yeah?” He beams at you then and you inhale deeply as you fight the urge to reach out and wrap your arms around him.

“Yeah.”

***

Eddie had seen you a few times since the gig at The Allied. Dropping into the record store when he could. In small crowds at gigs in the city. You’d greet him with a hug or a squeeze to the arm that never failed to get his heart rate going.

Today, he’d gotten off early from his temporary new gig at the auto shop and he found himself parked outside the record store.

It was overcast, but there was no bite to the air. A balmy wind tousling his hair as he ran across the street to the hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, avoiding the fat drops of rain that had begun to fall sporadically.

He spots you through the window when he makes his back to the store, bobbing your head along to whatever’s playing as you fill the racks. The now familiar bell jingles and he smiles when he recognises Joy Division over the speakers. He’d seen you in their shirt on more than one occasion.

He meets you as you're walking back to the counter.

“Oh, hey Eddie.” You smile and do a double take, taking in his greasy coveralls, and suddenly he’s wishing he’d gone home and showered. Even if it was an hour out of his way.

“Hey.” He places a coffee on the counter along with a white paper bag. “Thought you might like a mid-afternoon pick me up. I’ve uh, I’ve seen you with one of those cinnamon things before.”

Your eyes light up as you inspect the inside of the bag. “Oh my god, you’re my hero! Thank you, that’s so sweet.”

He shrugs, taking a step back from the counter, his own black coffee still clutched in his hands.

“So, this is the day job then huh?” You gesture to his outfit.

He scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah for now. Until the music starts paying off. If the music starts paying off.”

You nod, taking a bite of your cinnamon scroll and he can’t help but smirk at the way your eyes quickly roll to the back of your head. “It will.”

His free hand goes to his pocket, face hidden slightly by his hair as he tucks into himself at your confident statement.

“Thanks.” He turns around to start perusing the aisles.

“Oh, we will be getting the new Metallica album on the day of release by the way. I’ll put a tape aside for you.”

“Thank you.” He offers you a smile over his shoulder, and you tip your coffee to him.

He takes his time flicking through the rows, a few customers coming and going as he does, although he knows exactly what he’s looking for. Once the store is quiet again, he walks back over to you, selection in hand.

“Lee Hazelwood?” You take the record from him with a look of surprise.

He nods, “Yeah, I liked that song on that pre-goth mixtape you gave me. It’s like the kind of thing my uncle would listen to but…”

“Sinister.”

“Yeah.”

You smile, “It’s cool isn’t it? You know he actually wrote These Boots Are Made For Walkin’. Helped save Nancy Sinatra’s career after the teeny-bopper thing didn’t work out. They made a couple of albums together actually, and you know the first time he retired from the music industry was because the success of The Beatles’ made him depressed.”

He leans his arms on the counter as you talk. “Wow, you really are a wealth of knowledge for this stuff huh?”

You shrug, “What else is there?”

“Apart from books.”

You nod, “Good movies.”

He smiles, “Pizza.”

“Dumplings.”

“DnD”

You frown, “That nerdy board game?”

“No, uh d–dumplings like you said, and uh– dough–doughnuts?”

You scrunch up your face, “Okay,” and giggle at Eddie’s strained smile.

“So uh, what–would you–“ Not screwing this up at all Munson. “Would you maybe wanna do that together sometime? The pizza and dumplings, or probably one or the other I guess, and a movie, good music–“ he blows out a puff of air, scrunching up his face.

“Are you asking if I wanna go see a movie?”

“Yes,” he nods enthusiastically, “that and dinner. If you want.”

“I do like both those things.” You smile. “How about Thursday? I finish closing up at six.”

“Yeah. Cool. Thursday sounds good.” The guys and their weekly standing appointment for band practice would not agree.

***

Thursday rolls around faster than Eddie’s prepared for. Predictably, his bandmates all made fun of him for cancelling practice for you. But he just ignored the high-pitched ooohs and went to make sure his lucky Sabbath shirt was washed before he needed it.

He’s wearing it now as he paces outside the movie theatre, twisting his rings, oblivious to you sneaking up behind him until it’s too late.

“Boo!”

“Jesus Christ.” He jumps and twists around, your hands that had reached out to scare him still on his hips, his arms float in the air for a second before landing on your shoulders.

“You’re on edge,” you tease before your face sets a little more seriously. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, just uh, you wanna head in? It starts in like five minutes.”

You nod, your hands leaving his waist as his fall back to his sides. “What are we seeing anyway?” You look up at the black lettering above you, smiling just as Eddie reveals your viewing choice for the night.

“Thought we could see Young Frankenstein. Saw they were doing an old-school horror weekend here in the paper.”

“That sounds great.”

He lets out a breath of relief when you bump his shoulder affectionately, and you begin walking into the theatre side by side.

“Now the real important question Eddie Munson. What are your go-to movie snacks?”

His hand twitches when it accidentally brushes the back of yours.

“Well, popcorn obviously.”

“Obviously.” You nod.

“Sour Patch Kids and you gotta add a packet of Reese’s Pieces in there too.”

“Wait, in there as in–?”

“In the popcorn bucket. All of it. Like a good version of a trail mix.”

You grin, “Very interesting.”

“Just wait till you try it, sweetheart, you’ll never do it any other way.”

You laugh, “Okay, lead the way.”

He bows, gesturing his hand towards the confection stand. “After you m’lady.”

Your giggle, Eddie quickly finds out is his new favourite sound. When it appears again in the movie theatre, he can’t seem to keep his eyes on Gene Wilder, only watching you light up with laughter.

He can’t quite believe how well it’s all going. That is until you’re sharing a large pepperoni, on the bench outside the place you insisted served the best “pies” in all of Chicago, and your confusion stops his heart for a second.

He groans when he takes the first bite of cheesy dough.

“Good right?”

He nods, chewing and swallowing quickly. “My uncle told me pizza wasn’t a first date kind of meal, but we don’t have anything like this back in Hawkins.”

You’re sitting so close that he notices you still right away.

“Wait, this is a date?”

“Oh,” he swears his heart drops to his stomach as he sees the surprise on your face. “Oh well, yeah I thought it was but I guess I–it doesn’t have to be, sorry.”

You reach out to grab his arm when he instinctively moves away, “No! I just didn’t realise you were asking me out, out. You kinda just kept listing food.” He scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “I want it to be a date.”

He bites his lip, looking back at you with eyebrows raised, “Really?”

“Yes,” you laugh, squeezing the arm still in your hold. “Of course. I would love to…be on a date with you right now.”

He beams, “Well, it’s your lucky night sweetheart.”

***

The date (once it’s established as one), goes so well Eddie finds himself back at your apartment, admiring your wall lined with records while you find the both of you a drink.

His eyebrows marry together when he notices Dusty Springfield next to the Sex Pistols.

“What’s the system here?” You hand him a beer when you reappear by his side. “Not by genre?”

“No. Autobiographical.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“How–?”

“Well,” you step forward, reaching out to pick a plastic sleeve as if from memory, “if I want to find the song Landslide by Fleetwood Mac, I have to remember that I bought it for someone in the fall of 1983 but didn’t give it to them…for personal reasons.” You show him the white cover of the album.

“That sounds…”

“Comforting.”

He nods slowly, “Yes.”

“It is.”

God, you’re weird. And cute. And cool. And, shit he was going for it, you said you wanted to be on a date with him. You invited him back to your place. No one’s ever done that before. He should go for it. He’s going for it–

Your lips feel even softer than he imagined, and he can’t help but give himself a mental high-five when you immediately move closer to him, face melting into the hand that cradles your cheek. You taste almost vanilla-y with the combo of rum and coke still sitting on your tongue when his meets yours. He places his beer down on the coffee table, and your lips follow him when he has to dip down slightly before his free hand comes to sit on your waist.

You part for a breath, “Didn’t realise vinyl categorisation would get you so hot.” You tease him, lips plump and eyes slightly glazed over, and he’s never wanted anything more in his life than to keep you looking at him like this.

“Yeah uh, really love that Dewey Decimal system.” He leans close to capture your lips again, but you pull back, leaving him to chase you.

“The Dewey Decimal system is for books.” You shake your head.

Eddie huffs, “I really don’t care.” He finally finds your lips again and he swears they taste even sweeter the second time, despite being tainted by his own.

You guide him back to slowly sit on the couch, bodies falling a little clumsily together before you situate yourself in his lap, legs straddling his. You both stay like that for what could be hours for all Eddie cares, lips clicking in the silence.

“Fuck, I could kiss you all night.” He leans his forehead against yours, heavy breathing synced with your own, as you finally come up for air.

You shake your head, eyes soft and reassuring.

“I’m not going anywhere, Eddie.”

God dammit, is he glad he left Hawkins.

Tagging: @storiesbyrhi (I hope you like the coffee shop across from the record store 😉), @bettyfrommars (I finished it!)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #she writes #Spotify

[lovelybrooke]

you have said wanting to write more of Ohshc, how do you think they would act when they are jealous ?

Like maybe Reader have some friend from middle school and they catch up like the ep with Haruhi i dont remember which one

Jealousy (Yandere OHSHC)

I really like this but I changed a few things from your original ask, sorry. This is inspired episode 6. Also don't mind the name, I just looked up a random name.

based on these headcanons

masterlist

---

"I want to learn how to charm (Y/N)! Please teach me!" 

It was a quiet day in the Music Room, at least before all this started happening. The Club period was over for today, the rest of the Hosts getting ready to leave before a random first year walked in. 

"I apologize, the Hosts are all done for today" Kyoya said without even looking up from his papers. "Please come back tomorrow if you would like to meet with one of them." 

"I don't want to meet with any of them." The voice was deep, deeper than most of the clientele. The voice caught the attention of the other Hosts, mainly the twins and Tamaki, who moved to see who exactly it was. Kyoya looked up from his paper, peering at the person in question.

Kida Yutaka. He was a first year in your class, including your art elective. His father owned a tech company, partnering with schools all over the world to provide computers, as well as making popular phones. Kida wasn't known for being particularly popular, in fact some would even say he was shy, evident by the way he was shaking while speaking. So it's surprising to see him so bold at this moment. 

Tamaki was immediately fuming, rushing up to Kida, causing him to back away in shock. "Who are you?! What do you mean to (Y/n)!?" Kida was clearly shocked by the Host's behavior, seeing him react so badly to something so simply puzzled him. 

"I-I see (Y/n) come here often--I assume you know what they like..." Kida moves away from the blond, who is seething, backing into the twins in the process. "What--" 

"Aww, you look nervous~" They say in unison as Kida spins around. "You must really like them~" They say again, watching Kida's face heat up. 

Kida was obviously getting fed up with these Hosts, pushing past the twins and moving further into the room. "Okay look, I don't--It's just--look all I want to do Is--" 

"Mori--what's going on?" Kida jumps at the sound of another boy, Honey-Senpai, who looked clearly very tired. He was standing near a much larger boy rubbing his eyes. Mori's gaze was locked on Kida, surely meant to intimidate him. 

Where are they all coming from?

"This boy--" Tamaki spits out. "Wants to take (Y/n) from us!" He cries, leaning all his weight on Kyoya, who seemed unperturbed. Honey however, who was now being held up high by Mori, gasped dramatically.

"Really...I don't want (Y/n)-chan to leave..." Honey sounded like he was about to cry, very scared. Mori look like the exact opposite, his face was stern and cold, holding no empathy for Kida whatsoever. "Are they really leaving..." 

"No Mitsukuni." Mori says with a low rumble. 

"He might as well be." Kaoru says on his left. 

"He wants to sweep (Y/n) off their feet." Hikaru adds on his right. 

Kida looks like he's about to explode, his face red, confused and scrunched up. Moving away from the Hosts encircling him, he knew he needed to explain himself. "Look--all I want to do is learn what (Y/n) likes so I can ask them out! I assumed that since they spend all their time with you that you'd, y'know, give me advice." Kida finally let out. The room was finally silent, which strangely made him feel worse. It was gut wrenching, watching them analyze him. 

The first one to break the silence was Kyoya, letting out a low chuckle while pushing up his glasses with the hand that wasn't being restricted by Tamaki. "Well what a predicament we have here, it seems our dear (Y/n) has caught the eye of someone else, what a surprise." He didn't sound so surprised, the smirk on his face evident to that. "If it's advice you need then you came to the right place, isn't that right, Tamaki?" He turned his head to face the blond, who was still moping. 

"No absolutely not!" Tamaki belted. "I refuse to divulge my dear (Y/n)'s secrets, especially not to a scoundrel like you!" He all but spits in Kida's face. 

"Scoundrel..." Kaoru sighs

"What is he, five?" Hikaru finishes. 

"You should be making fun of him!" Tamaki points to Kida "He's the one trying to sneak his ways into (Y/n)'s life." 

Kida scoffed, crossing his arms and raising a brow. "What do you mean sneak? Me and (Y/n) are already friends." The sentence made Tamaki gasp, looking back at Kyoya, who was still smirking. 

"What does he mean? Why did he say that? Kyoya?" 

"It means that (Y/n) has friends outside of us, Tamaki." You would've thought Tamaki was shot by how much pain it looked like he was in, a stark contrast to his knightly persona. The twins both laughed at his shocked expression, moving closer to him. 

"Oh you hear that boss, they have friends~" They say in unison, laughing as Tamaki tries to jump them, only being stopped by Kyoya. 

Kida watched in pure confusion as he feels someone tap him on the shoulder. It was Honey, still being held by Mori. "What is (Y/n)-chan like in class?" He tilts his head, and if it wasn't for the situation at hand he would've thought it was cute. "We don't have any classes together so I don't get to see them much..." He drones on. 

Kida thought for a moment. "They're kinda quiet, they don't talk much, especially not in art class. They're really kind though" He smiled for the first time since entering the music room. "Once, they let me use their paint during class since we sit next to each other, we talked the entire time. It was the first time I heard them talk, it was nice. They're nice..." The room was silent, Honey simply staring at Kida, nearly unblinking. 

Kida realized he liked you months ago. You and him were alike in a lot of ways, quiet and reclusive. It made him comfortable around you, it made him like you. You were his first crush, and for a while, he hated it. You were a commoner, there was no way that his father would let him be with you. But that didn't stop him from wanting you, he'd talk to you every day during class, some days he'd even eat lunch with you. But as time went on, he noticed you spending more and more time at the Host Club, he started to think that maybe there was something about them that you liked. 

If he could make himself more like them, then maybe you'd like him. 

"So are you gonna help--" 

"What are you guys doing? Who are you?" Haruhi walked into the Music room, you right behind her, causing Kida's face to light up. 

"Sorry, I left my bag here--oh hey Kida, what are you doing here?" You waved to him, moving around the Music room. Kida watched as you grabbed your bag, too afraid to say anything. This was too sudden, he wasn't ready to confess to you. 

"Hey Kida do you know when our next painting is due--Kida, where did he'd go?" Hikaru and Kaoru appeared on your sides. 

"You scared him." Hikaru whispers in your ear. 

"He's a baby." Kaoru whispers in the other. 

You push the two away, sighing as you swing the bag over your shoulder. "I have to get to work, bye guys." You wave, leaving as soon as you came. 

With Kida gone it as though Tamaki could finally breathe, slipping off of Kyoya and composing himself. "We're never letting him in again." He exclaimed. 

"Already banned, sir." Kyoya said with a smirk.

---

A/n: In conclusion they're insane.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere ohshc #ohshc x reader #yandere ouran high school host club #ouran high school host club x reader #ouran host club #ouran high school host club

[indulgentdaydream]

I don’t know if you’ve done this yet but headcanon for what it’s like when reader and Jason get into arguments! (Fluff and angst please!)

coming right up!

I feel like it's very divided in the community on how Jason is in an argument

Some say he gets angry and shouts, some say he'll just walk away immediately, some say something completely different

I feel like it depends on the situation really.

If it's something minor, like arguing over how the dishes should be done, then you guys are talking to each other normally again within two minutes (or at least he is)

if it's something a little more major, (example: either you not taking care of yourself properly or jason not taking care of himself properly) it may take a few hours to a day to resolve it

the most severe i think jason would go is maybe three days at most with no contact before he's reaching out to you again

okay I'mma write a blurb on that now

Jason couldn't stand it. He had been in his apartment, trying to clean his guns. It was routine. Disassemble. Organize. Clean. Reassemble. Test. Done. He'd done it a thousand times. But he just couldn't focus.

His mind was circling around your argument.

He had tried to bring up something about one of your bad habits. Something about your work and your schedule that he couldn't even remember the specifics of.

Thinking back on it, he shouldn't have brought it up when he had. You were agitated. Frustrated to begin with. Overwhelmed. It had been because of your schedule. Jason had commented on how you should look into it.

"You should take better care of yourself. I hate seeing you like this."

It was the wrong choice of words.

You had blown up on him, twisting his words back at him.

"I should take better care of myself? Really? Why don't you go take a look in the mirror before you come nitpicking my life, Jason."

He had gotten offended. He had only been trying to help.

"What the hell you yelling at me for?"

You spun around to face him, the two of you on opposite sides of the kitchen, "You tell me to take better care, yet what do you do for yourself? Everyday I feel like I'm asking you to be careful out there and everyday you don't respect my wishes!"

"It's my job!"

"It's not a job!"

Jason doesn't remember that much after that, either.

He shouldn't have yelled back. You were right. You were right and you were tired and frustrated and he hadn't been there for you like he should have.

You had stormed out shortly afterwards, saying more about how he didn't respect you or your wishes.

He hated admitting that you were right about that, too. It wasn't intentional disrespect, he just hadn't acted right.

He left the pieces of his gun on the table and stood up.

I need to apologize to the love of my life.

...

You were sitting in your apartment, watching TV, when you heard the doorbell ring.

You got up, not caring that you were dressed in your pyjamas still, your regular pyjama shirt replaced with one of Jason's.

In a way, you felt horrible about the argument with Jason, too. You shouldn't have snapped at him. You should've brought up your concerns about his vigilante work a different time in a more polite, adult-like manner. It was eating at you, yet you had no idea if he was ready to talk again yet.

You opened the door without looking through the peep hole first, something that Jason would've chided you for, only to find the man himself standing in your doorway.

He was dressed in his motorcycle gear, a helmet in one hand, a bouquet of flowers in the other.

"I'm sorry."

It's up to you to accept his apology or not i'm sorry but i don't know how to finish this.

add in the notes how y'all would apologize KEEP IT PG PEOPLE

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #dc #jason todd fic #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd headcanons #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x male!reader #missy writes

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

#sorry i got really into my feelings about mark hoffman again #the very specific version of him in my brain that i really really wish i had the time and energy to properly share with you guys #saw #well until i muster the energy to explode all of my feelings out into a fic. if you want to TRY and understand #know that my three biggest hoffman fic insps right now are as follows #your best kept secret hoffman. a series of mistakes hoffman. and rushed like a dreadful wind hoffman. #there is a very clear throughline just know i am extremely emotionally compromised rn #thinking about theee fics vs the canon path hoffman spirals down #something something the absolute tragedy of watching a man's descent into madness #the transformation of a man into a monster #and what could have saved him from himself and kramer's corruption #sorry i'm rambling so much oh my god i was just having such a crying fit out of nowhere about this #do you think he could feel it happening. do you think he was aware he was losing his mind. #the script version of him fucks with me so bad. the crazed rankings and the longer hair and him not being well kept anymore #it's impossible to think he didn't know he was deteriorating #fuuuck okay i need to either chill or write a whole longfic rn #i project on that guy so much i truly don't know if i could properly write my vision of him #until i do something more substantial the full extent of my hoffman exists for me and my boyfriend only. they get me like no one else #well ginny and jenna also get me. please read best kept secret and a series of mistakes Oh My God #where am i going with this. i like tag rambling actually this is a nice way to do it without forcing EVERYONE to read my delirium #anyways if you've read all of this i think i love you? feel free to dm me about hoffman and my very specific headcanons and aus #maybe soon i'll try and start writing my fics about this tragic man #i could never say any of this on twitter btw they'd string me up for my opinions on him as a sad wet beast who could have been fixed #if only he hadn't been weaponized first #god i'm too tired to even be as embarrassed about this as i should be. thought i unlearned cringe already #but i've been spending way too much time on twitter and they HAAATE hoffman there #rip. i know it's not that serious but i'm sensitive rn and hate feeling lonely in my thoughts #ok bye for real otherwise i'll never shut up. i might tag ramble more often bc this was therapeutic in a way i needed badly #cat chat

[gavisfanta]

gavi with a breeding kink aftet seeing you playing with his nieces and nephews (for the sake of this just pretend like he has some) 😮‍💨

BEDTIME - GAVI

summary: gavi and you are babysitting and after you put the kids to bed gavi tells you about his desire

a/n: changed it a bit, hope you dont mind anon

warning: smut, not proofread

"I think it's slowly time to go to bed." You mumbled while you stared at the small boy infront of you.

You and Gavi had to babysit some family friend's kids. Because they didn't want you to be alone and lonely while the kids sleep they asked you to invite Gavi too.

So now you were done playing with them and it had turned 8pm.

"Okay." The younger boy nodded his head. He was around the age of 5, but the girl who was 8 and very distracted by the tv didn't wanna go.

"Can I stay here?" She asked and looked at you.

"No, come on it's time for bed." You stood up while Gavi remained sitting on the sofa. She looked at the spanish midfielder and then stood up.

"Can you come with me?" Maria asked and then Gavi flashed you a quick smile.

"I'll put them both to sleep, don't worry." Gavi winked at you and you still followed him upstairs. The younger boy whose name was Ale ran to his room which was right next to Marias, the girls.

Maria was obsessed with Gavi the second she saw him. She literally played with him all day and when the two of you sat down outside in the garden she even kissed his cheek.

You knew that she had that one little girl crush on your boyfriend like the one you always had on the lifeguards at the beach.

Trying to impress them when you had no chance due to them being 3 times your age. But you rather considered it cute, you also thought about it that a long time ago, you used to be like that too.

Ale also loved Gavi, but he liked you a bit more, however when it came to playing football he of course chose Gavi.

And after Gavi managed to put the kids to sleep he made his way downstairs again.

So sitting on the couch, complete silence in the house, Gavi turned to you.

"That was awesome of you, I didn't know you were that good with kids." Gavi smiled at you and your cheeks started to color themselves red.

"I don't know" You shrugged your shoulders, Gavi then got closer to you and leaned to your neck.

"Imagine if those were our children. Imagine you with a baby inside your belly," He paused for a second." my baby." Gavi whispered against your neck. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine and his hands started roaming your body.

"Fuck." You muttered under your breath as you threw back your head and Gavi started planting sloppy kisses along your vein on your neck.

He then pulled away after some time snd you two made eye contact. Without a thought your lips collided into eachother and started moving at a fast pace.

Eventually you sat into his lap, feeling the tent in his joggers. Then he pulled away.

"You really wanna do it in here?" Gavi raised his brows while he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You turn me on, I can't wait for them to get home with my dick hard." Gavi whispered aggressively and you shook your head while smiling a little.

"You're an idiot." You stood up for a second so that he could take off his boxers and sweatpants.

"Take off your pants, if so, we won't have much time to get changed." Gavi nudged his head towards you and you also took off your pants, leaving you only in your red thong and him with nothing covering his lower body.

"You wanna have my babies amor?" Gavi teased. You felt your arousal getting hotter when he looked up at you, walking over to him and sitting down on his lap, a thin and wet piece of fabric separating you two.

However, you didn't wait long until you lifted up your hips and then Gavi pulled down his shorts to his knees. His hard dick basically jumping out of his boxers, standing tall below your core. Gavi then grabbed it and with his other hand he rubbed his fingers along your folds. You whimpered at the touch and you slowly slid down his dick, Gavi holding it at the bottom to stabilize it.

"I'm gonna give you so many children, you'd look so hot pregnant." Gavi whispered into your ear. You whimpered quietly as he then grabbed your hips and moved you up and down carefully, slow at first and then his pace speeding up.

A light and silent sound of skin clapping against eachother lingered around in the room. The only thing you prayed for was that the children wouldn't wake up.

You accidentally moaned loudly to which Gavi responded with sticking two of his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around them, wetting them in your Salvia. His hand then slipped down to your clit and started rubbing it in figures of eight.

You moaned against his skin as you lowered your head into the crook of his shoulder.

He kept thrusting up into you until your legs began to shake and the warm knot in your abdominal kept growing. Gavi noticed the way you clenched around him and only fastened his pace.

Eventually you both came, his dick shooting ropes of his cum into your pussy as you sunk down on him, moaning and whining.

Hs threw his head back as he tried to catch his breath. "You gonna have my children hm?" He asked, he was so drunk from the orgasm that he forgot that you're on birth control. But maybe he just ignored it.

"Now let's get you cleaned up without waking up the children." Gavi said after a few minutes.

As you two cleaned up a bit and got dressed you sat down on the couch again and only 15 minutes later your family's friends came home.

"Thank you so much for paying attention to the kids." The mother thanked you two as you stood at the door.

"Oh no worries at all." You smiled and the both of you then went to the car.

"I just hope the kids wont tell her about the noise the monster under her bed made." Gavi joked and you gave him a weird look.

"What noise?" You knitted your eyebrows together and the next second Gavi started to intimidate you moaning. You immediately smaked his chest with your hand and looked the other way while he kept laughing.

"You're my favorite monster, if that makes you feel better."

#barca #fc barcelona #football #gavi #futbol #fanfic #mustread #espana #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi smut #i miss gavi #pablo paez gavi #smut

[lovemomhatepolice]

rafe cameron nswf alphabet (part 2) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Rafe would never agree to group sex in his life. Maybe it would have crossed his mind even earlier when he wasn't in a relationship with you and just had a single life, but now there's no way he would agree to it. Even more so for sex with another man, oh no. He wouldn't tolerate the sight of you and someone else giving you pleasure

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Well, let's not kid ourselves, Rafe definitely prefers to receive something than to give. Although let's not hide it, this is slowly changing, and thanks to you! (And for you) Previously, he was only focused on his own pleasure, and now he wants to give it to you as well, because after all, you are his only princess, whom he has to take care of and make sure she is quite satisfied But yes, he's pretty darn talented

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Here, too, I don't think there is too much to say. It really depends on your mood, because Rafe can also be slow and tender, but very often your sex is just rough. Not that you don't like it, on the contrary. Ever since you started having sex with Rafe, you immediately liked it, and what's to say, the boy definitely knows what he's doing And just so you know! Even though he's harsh, that doesn't mean he's hurting you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Ay, this man is definitely a fan of fast rounds. I think he very often feels the need to just take you to any toilet and just fuck you. That's right, that's why quickies are paradise for him. Wherever you are, you are always in the mood for them How often? Often. But not as often as your evening long games

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) The risk is as much as you allow. Rafe doesn't seem to me to be the type who insisted very much. After all, he is the son of one of the most influential men on the island, after all, he can't disgrace the name. As much as he would love to show everyone that you are his and only his, there are limits he won't cross himself, much less without your loud approval. He's more of a risk taker when it comes to getting you pregnant…

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) He can score many rounds, really, is how much he has in him…. oh jesus Do you want one round? Alright, there will be one. You want five? There will be five. As much as you are able to endure, so long will Rafe be able to endure as well. Sometimes a little shorter, he'll satisfy you with his hand or mouth, and sometimes longer than you do, so he'd probably expect the same from you

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) He doesn't have and has never had toys intended for himself. Nor has he ever been a big fan of them, because he thought he could do everything himself much better than some plastic. However, once he saw you satisfying yourself with a vibrator while he was home, I swear, Rafe went crazy Now he occasionally pulls it out of your drawer when you fuck and it assists your orgasm, and sometimes he just wants you to show him how you satisfy yourself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) The man is a bloody teaser. He can touch you somewhere all day, send you all sorts of bawdy messages and behave in the worst way he can, only to pretend later in the evening that none of this happened and leave you alone craving remarks. The same during intercourse, when you are already geared up to take him in…. Ah, Rafe

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Rafe is not a fan of being loud. Of course, you may hear loud sighs or gasps of air coming from his mouth. Often moans as well, but in his case it is quite muffled. He much prefers to listen to your loud voice, which shudders from the satisfaction it gives your body

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) In the past, he often had sex under the influence of drugs, so long as he didn't really feel anything but them and the created satisfaction. It wasn't until he met you and put them aside that he saw what real intimacy was and that he didn't need powders and pills at all to be satisfied

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He is big, really, after all. It will come as no surprise to anyone when I write this very thing. Rafe is big and there is no fooling himself. And at the same time he's damn experienced, which is why he knows how to fit in perfectly in you

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Rafe could fuck all day. I swear, you and him are like fucking rabbits. But what a surprise, Rafe Cameron is irresistible and he thinks the same about you. As soon as he sees you, he immediately wants to have you as close as he can. And of course it shows - I'll say it again, Rafe Cameron is a clingy guy.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He doesn't fall asleep very quickly, I assume he has sleep problems caused by various traumatic events. When you are next to him, of course, he falls asleep much easier, however, he continues to have problems with them. He likes to lie down and touch your bare hands or hair to calm down a bit and fall asleep faster, but this doesn't always work out, so you stay with him longer and wait until he falls asleep so you can fall asleep easily yourself, without worrying that your boyfriend won't get a wink of sleep all night

A/N: first part! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

#outer banks x you #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks smut #rafe x you #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe x reader #rafe cameron drabble #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #obx rafe cameron #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb

[rosedom]

"in an open match, 【 🦢 】 has invited KAVEH to play . . . a swan's song: the rhythm of rebirth

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!gn!reader, sub!ftm!kaveh, mentions of alhaitham (you are a throuple), cunnilingus, subspace, semi-public (no getting caught), gentleness + praise + a lot of assurance .

A/N : no ask attached due to it being a thread over the course of multiple asks . . . dt my sweet swan anon <3

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

Kaveh said goodbye to his mother, all those years ago. He stood beside the lighthouse—the very lighthouse he designed, all it’s petaled curves and swooping lines—, and he waves until the silhouette disappeared on the horizon. She, in all senses, became swallowed up in the fog of the winding river. He had half a mind to stroll with her, to run, to try and keep pace with the slim boat as it traveled the water, up ‘til it’d reach the falls, ‘til his dearest mother would need to take to land to reach the second harbor of Sumeru.

He wanted to chase her, but he did not. (She wishes she smiled to her boy, that first night she left.

Her boy, who she loves so, so dearly; but who chains her to a past full of only pain. 

She loves her boy, and her boy loves her. It is in this love that he tells her to leave.)

Now, Kaveh visits his mother once a year—twice, on special occasions. He brings Alhaitham, on some; he brings you on others. Rarely does he bring the both of you. (He is scared that it would be asking too much.) And Fontaine is beautiful, really, and he loves seeing his mother’s designs dispersed in the streets of the court. And through it all, he tells himself that he does not miss her. 

Telling—saying—, however, is easier than believing.

He visits that lighthouse every month, right down in Port Ormos. It’s tradition, seeing the beacon in the sky—the beacon that became the last tether he had of family in Sumeru, where he was born, raised, and where he will die.

It's sad, in a way, that the remnants Kaveh will leave in Sumeru are of a building: a cold, heartless building. He wishes he could leave himself. 

(He misses his mother, but he says he does not. This lighthouse is a testament to that fact.)

Tonight is the fifth of May, and tonight Kaveh sits in the silence of a Port Ormos’ night. The lighthouse sits far into the bay, granting him true solitude, a loneliness to match that which seems to haunt him. Pharos’ beacon of light extends through the cold mist, and the bugs which it illuminates are his only companion, here.

Until you come along, that is. (Alhaitham is not here, tonight. You told him to stay home. 

After all, if Kaveh is so hesitant to invite you both to Fontaine, perhaps he fears something of the two of you together. You don't want to risk that, here.)

“Thought I'd find you here,” you murmur, steps awfully loud in the quiet. The wooden boards creak beneath your feet before you step onto the stone that surrounds the lighthouse.

Kaveh’s face blends into the darkness, but his eyes do not; and you see them, wide and shimmering, the wet sclera catching on the errant rays from the beacon behind him. He does not say anything, but he lifts a hand for you to take.

His hand, calloused, slips easily into your own, your fingers lacing with his. Even the crooked jut to his pinkie fits perfectly against your own phalanges, the two of you cut from the same clay the archons molded either of you with. You stroke along the back of his hand, thumb gentle in its motions as you take a seat on the hard stone that lines the ground around the lighthouse. Like this, his and your back are pressed against the slate that builds the gate’s wall, the gentle eave blotting out parts of the sky when you gaze upwards towards the moon.

It’s silent, for a while.

Until it’s not. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Kaveh asks, voice meak. 

You don’t know what he’s referring to, but you say, “Yes,” anyway.

He shakily sighs. “I worked so hard,” he continues, empty hand dragging along the intricate patterns etched into the stone that makes up the grandiose arch, “and she still left.” (It’s a testament to how long he's been out here, alone, ruminating in his thoughts, the way he lets himself be vulnerable so easily.) Another sniffling sound escapes him, and he’s quick to let go of your hand to cover his mouth. Through his fingers, he says, tries so desperately to convince, “I mean, I—I’m glad she left, she deserves it; but why don’t I?

“Why don’t I get to start over, like she does?”

You pull him into your arms then. Even as he makes like he’s going to pull away—like he doesn’t want your comfort—, he turns into it all the same, burying himself into your shoulder as his arms come to clutch desperately at your back. Softly cooing, you hold him tight, hands making grand sweeping motions across the expanse of his back. 

“Because you worked so hard,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to his hairline. “You have made a name for yourself, Kaveh: not many people can say that about themselves.”

“‘m only got some stupid moniker.”

At that, you laugh. “Yeah, ‘Light of Kshahrewar’ is pretty stupid; it hardly highlights your accomplishments.”

“That’s not what I—”

“I know,” you say, curt, even as you keep your lips pressed softly to his forehead.

You only continue once he sniffs, a single time, loud and stark. 

“You could leave at any time you wanted,” you say, “and you know that—but you stay anyway. You stay, and you persevere. You are the strongest man I know—” at this, Kaveh’s chest hiccups in a barely-contained sob. You only squeeze him harder. “I am so proud of you, y’know.” 

“But—” he shakes his head vehemently against you, hands clutching, pulling, at the front of your shirt, “—but why? I’m nothing special.” 

“Nothing special? Kaveh.” You pull him out from your neck, cupping his face in your broad palms. Even as tears slip down his cheeks, he nuzzles into you, eyes fluttering shut. “You are everything to me and Haitham.” 

At the mention of the other boyfriend, Kaveh wetly laughs. “He told you to say that, didn't he?” 

You only coo again. “Maybe,” you acquiesce, “but he only told me how to say it. What I’m saying is genuine, lion.” The nickname fits, when he blinks open those lion eyes of his, ruby irises managing to shine even in the pitch of night. But then, quietly, you ask, “Do you really want to start over?”

Kaveh is silent for a moment; and then he slowly, oh-so slowly, shakes his head, side to side, right there in the palms of your hands. 

“You’re not your mother, Kaveh, and you're not chained down to her. You're your own man, and we are so, so proud of you for who you have become. In spite of everything bad that has happened to you, you have remained the sun in mine and Haitham’s sky.” 

He reaches a hand up to wipe his own tears but you softly bat it away, using your own thumbs to catch the errant saltwater that drips. His eyes have gone hazy, far-off and far in thought.

(For Kaveh to be so—so silent, is jarring.)

Trying to reel him back in, you lean forward and gently kiss the swell of his right cheek. “Kaveh,” you murmur, “do you understand me?”

Slowly, he nods. 

“Can you repeat what I said, then?” 

His eyes go wide, and he shakes his head.

You shake your head right back at him. “Yes, you can, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

All it takes is one word.

It takes one word, and it’s easy, pulling Kaveh under. He admitted to you and Haitham, all those months ago, how, when he submits, his brain becomes cotton-filled, mind pleasantly quiet. It’s how he comes down from stress, and, well—he’s pretty damned stressed, here. 

But, “We’re—we’re in public,” he mutters, shaky, even as you can see the reflection of the moon brightening in those growing pupils, even as his legs begin to spread.

“Nobody’s around, sweet thing, and nobody will come around ‘til tomorrow morning.” 

His eyes, wide as a pup’s for all the lion that he is, jump across your face, searching for something; and then, suddenly, he falls backwards and catches himself, stands up ‘til he’s looking down at you. “I—I don’t have lube!” 

He doesn't have lube, and he’s worried, he thinks he’s going to be pleasing you. (He should know, by now, that your own arousal is your least concern.

Sure: old habits die hard, but still.

Silly boy.)

“Sweetheart,” you murmur, hands coming to take hold of his hips. You move to your knees, lean forward until you can lay a soft kiss to his clothed navel. “We don't need lube for me to suck you off, now do we?” (You’ve learned your tease from Alhaitham. He rubs off on you, and you on him; the two of you a perfect push n’ pull, an edge to an overstimulation, a bad cop to a good cop. You and him make up the stars and the moon and Kaveh the sun. 

Alhaitham is his mirror, and you are the frame around its glass all the same.)

The light of the moon falls on the bob of his throat as he swallows heavily. Eventually, he mutters a soft, choked-out “no” that’s more whine than word. 

You hum, nosing at his hip, now, even as his legs begin to tremble beneath him. 

“The—” his breath cuts into a sharp whimper when you take away the fabric that spills from beneath his belt—the long, hanging cloth covering between his thighs—in order to mouth over the swell of his mound. 

It’s a rather ridiculous spectacle that you put on, but, while nobody is around, you're still in the open far too much for you to want to strip him down in, anyways. The bare sight is for your (and, had he been here, tonight, Alhaitham’s) eyes only—not even the moon is privy to the view. 

You decide, then, that you need to move him; but you need to hear what he wants to say, first. “The what, sweet thing?” You encourage him with your lips, speaking against the seam of his pants, a whisper of the pleasure you can give him. 

“The boxes,” he chokes out, hands coming to brace themselves on your shoulders. “There—there’s boxes just inside.”

You coo, “Smart boy,” sucking once, harsh, at where you know his cock lies, hard and swollen just beyond the thin fabric separating you. You’re quick to stand up, after, arms curling under Kaveh’s thighs to pick him up. 

He yelps your name, body curving over your head. “Stop acting like Haitham!” he whines, voice still meak from crying, voice still airy from the headspace he’s fast sinking into. (He’s not in the mood for a tease, you see.)

He's dangerously light as you carry him inside the gate, under the awning, right on ‘til you set him down gentle on the boxes that surround the lighthouse. He squirms when he's sat, blinking up at you slow n’ soft, trusting like that pup, and you find yourself drawn in, leaning down enough for your lips to brush his, to settle warm hands on his hips instead and press him into the wooden lid of the box. 

Though his tongue peaks out, anticipating your messy kisses, you merely chuckle against his lips, once, leaving a soft peck on his pout as you ask, “Can I suck you off now, sweetheart?”

He nods, this slow—almost lethargic—up n’ down that disrupts the flow of his hair, smears his bangs into the wet on the apples of his cheeks. Old tears and, now, fog, is already beginning to blur his eyes, cotton filling his brain, and it’s so, so beautiful—seeing the way Kaveh submits to you and finds bliss in it never fails to amaze you. “Please,” he adds, just for good measure, the good boy he is.

You say so, a gentle, “Good boy,” that forces a soft hitch of his breath.

The stone is cooler, here, without so much as a scrap of the moon’s light to illuminate it. It seeps into your skin as you kneel, even through the cloth of your pants, but you pay it no mind; the warmth of Kaveh’s thighs settling around your shoulders squanders any uncomfy feelings. 

As you nose back into the apex of those thighs, the skin still radiating that same heat as it did earlier, the fabric still slick with your saliva. You’re grateful for these pants, far less formal than the ones he typically dons, simply because of the loose zipper at its seam. The zipper is loud when you pull it down—but quiet in comparison to Kaveh’s desperate whinin’, “C’mon...”

“I’m goin’,” you say, hot breath fanning over his slicked up boxers. You grin, coy, at the way the seat of them are sticky-wet. His hips lift into you, and you slide a hand beneath either leg, bottom-up... and tug. 

“H-hey!” (Even in subspace, Kaveh finds the wherewithal to gripe.

How adorable, really.)

“I have a spare,” is all you say—and you’re not lying. You have another pair of boxers stuffed in your pocket, inconspicuous but revealing your motives entirely. Kaveh’s got hardly the time to mull over the idea, though, half-muddled up as he is, and especially-so when you put your mouth right on the hot jut of his cock. He positively yelps at that, hips jumping enough that you need to press him back down into the box, hold him tight by his hips to keep him there. “Stay,” you murmur, then: “You can put your hands in my hair, okay?”

Tentatively, his fingers come and wrap themselves in your hair. He treats you so gently, so adoringly, even as he’s slicking up your lips with nothing but a soft lick. “There you go,” you continue, leaning further down to tongue below his cock, between his puffy labia, “jus’ like that.” The vibrations from your voice make him arch, but his hands stay perfectly put; they neither pull nor twist, simply there, grounding himself as his mind seems to get lost in that delicate headspace of his, witnessed by nobody but you. (You meant it, earlier, when you said that not even the moon would gaze upon Kaveh’s unraveling; she lays hidden beneath a dusting of clouds, an approaching storm shielding her eyes from the absolute debauchery happening under her waning light.)

Now, you’re not a scholar: hardly such. You don’t have the eye for beauty that your sweet Kaveh has (apparent in the way Kaveh insists he be the one to decorate the home with.

It seems Haitham isn’t the only one with a bad eye in the relationship.)

However, you don’t need to be a scholar to know how absolutely enthralling Kaveh is. From the way he looks—the cute cunt you’ve got your face shoved in, the chubby cock you’re tonguing at—to his sounds, his actions... you may cum in your own pants, you realize, at nothing but the taste of him on your tongue.

“You—mm—” you try to speak, your sentence cut up in a moan, Kaveh’s cock pressed to your lips, “—you taste divine, sweet thing, the absolute sweetest...” For the scholar you claim not to be, you sure are well-versed in lathering him up in praise. 

At the lack of response—that is, lack of a legible one—, you look up your eyelashes and are met with a sight that makes you throb: Kaveh, gazing down at you, watching you, looking at you suck him off, eat him out. 

Subspace always makes him like this. He’s floaty, sure, but simultaneously honed in, in an odd juxtaposition that makes heat swirl in your belly and sends your tender heart aching in your chest. For all the cotton stuffed in his mind, all the fog covering his lion eyes—he’s watching you, aware only of you and the pleasure you give him. 

Each new breathless plea makes you speed up, makes you slide your tongue under the hot jut of his cock and point it, drawing soft but hard circles on where he’s most sensitive. He whines, entirely nonverbal, now, wholly lost to that which threatens to swallow him up—you.

“Close?” you ask, muffled into his slick n’ spit slick cunt, the lewd mix of liquid absolutely slathered across your face, leaking down to his untouched ass. Teasing, you lick at his perineum before returning back to his cock, working fast and efficiently, just the way he likes, desperate to feel him unravel above you. 

He nods, vehement, thighs threatening to close had you not held steadfast to them. He’s squirming up a storm—not so dissimilar to the storm you know is coming, the storm that shields you from the moon’s gaze—, sweet moans and whimpers alike falling from his lips unbidden. It’s beautiful—the taste, the sight, the everything, all that which screams, simply, Kaveh, Kaveh, Kaveh.

Something else screams, too.

“Cumm’n!” Kaveh cries, voice loud. His voice is entirely wrecked, but you pay it no mind; after all, why wouldn’t it be, after so long of nothing but whines tearing at his throat? You bask in his cry, the way his cock pulses heavily above your tongue. At the smear of slick you feel against your chin—which, you notice now, is nudging at his perineum, at his leaking hole, too—, you nuzzle down, giving his cock a welcome reprieve and allowing his cum to dribble into your open mouth.

It’s quiet, after that, save for the lap of harsher waves in the distance. The storm is rolling in as Kaveh sinks back, hands falling limply from your hair. You stand up slowly, massaging his thighs as you rise above him to kiss him gently, to lick into his mouth and spread the sweet taste of his cum between your lips.

He’s slow n’ sweet, now, silent but breathless as his eyes are still welled up wet. You thumb away the tears, his long eyelashes clumped together, noses pressed together. You bask in the gentle silence as you tend to Kaveh; first, using a torn piece of cloth to mop up the mess between his thighs, then getting him in that spare bare of boxers you have. It’s a tussle, getting a spacey (hah) Kaveh to step out of his torn underclothes and his pants only to force him right back in—with a new pair, of course, but the same ol’ pants—, but it’s worth it in the end, when you can get an arm beneath his knees and one supporting his back, carrying him like a bride.

(A bride, huh?

... What a thought.)

“Let’s get you home now, yeah?” You kiss at Kaveh’s temple, even as he buries his face into your throat and hums, still floating, still quiet. “Hayi’s waitin’ on us, and the rain’ll start soon.”

Kaveh nods softly at that, kissing your throat once before his breath evens out, and he’s out like a light. The light of Kshahrewar, snuffed out in a doze—the only way your light should ever be dimmed.

The next time he visits Fontaine, he brings you and Alhaitham, together. 

when i said i can't imagine kaveh without haitham, i meant it. i hope that this lil' addition was okay . . . threesome with the two guys when? also, it would be a whole day's trip to get between sumeru city and port ormos, but this is video game logic, and i don't give a fuck. having your boyfriend in ur arms and ur other boyfriend waiting at home with a warm meal can make a guy defy the laws of physics smh. also, i went less heavy on the aftercare, but it's definitely there ! kaveh will be getting pampered when he gets home to you and haitham, where you can spoil him together<33

8 MAY 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#【 🦢 】 #i'm so into boys who r so deep in pleasure that they go nonverbal !! #gn reader #gender neutral reader #dom reader #sub kaveh #kaveh smut #kaveh x reader #sub genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #not gonna tag haitham but ! he's mentioned a lot . #sub character #sub male character #i wonder if these tags r any good . . .

[anothermansjeans]

never give you peace

s.r x youtuber!reader

summary: during their first date, youtuber!reader feels the sudden anxiety that they can never give spencer peace

cw: little angst; hurt/comfort?? mentions of going to a restaurant, strangers coming up to reader, reader is in their head :( the smallest mention of the foyet/haley plot

wc: 855

a/n: hi!!!!!! i would LOVE to take requests for youtuber!reader and spencer!! PLEASE send them in! i love these two sm. inspired by peace by taylor swift!

++

You didn't know when it started happening– the random people walking up to you asking for photos– you just gradually started to get used to it after twenty or so times. Normally, it wouldn't bother you. The people who support you and the reason you make YouTube videos deserve the world in your eyes, but now that you're here, walking down the streets of D.C with Spencer on your first date… it was bothering you… just the tiniest bit!

It took a while for you and Spencer to get to this point. A lot of phone tag (you were both very busy people), you being out of town, and Spencer being out of town really put the two of you through the ringer. To say you deserved this moment of having a proper first date would be an understatement, which is why these two sweet girls walking up to you with shy smiles put you on edge.

“Hi! You're Y/N, right?”

You and Spencer were supposed to be at the small bistro not even a hundred feet away at this point. If you were by yourself, you would be ecstatic to talk to them. Maybe you're a shitty person (you're not. Spencer would later make sure to explain that you're allowed to have boundaries and that talking to strangers normally puts people on edge). Maybe for once, you wanted to not talk to the people who made your career possible. Maybe you feel too bad even thinking this way that the people pleaser is screaming to come out. “Uh… hi.”

“Do you mind taking a picture with us? We’re obsessed with your videos.”

You've been hyper aware of Spencer by your side the entire time. He’s never seen you in your element with followers. You have no clue if he's ever been through something like this with anyone he’s previously dated, but you want to assume this is all new to him and you're probably scaring him away as the seconds tick by.

You're only brought out of your thoughts when you hear Spencer speak up next to you. “Go ahead.”

“Okay…” The process was relatively quick. Spencer offered to take the photo, the girls thanked him profusely, and about five photos total were taken. When Spencer returns the phone the two turn back towards you with wide smiles plastered on their faces.

“Thank you so much! Have a nice night!”

And that was that. Except, it didn't feel like it was done. There was an awkward feeling settling over the two of you, but nothing was said as Spencer linked your arms back together and continued to walk to the bistro.

It was eating at you the entire time you've been in the restaurant. He never brought it up though, always steering the conversation to your shared interests and throwing in a fun fact now and then. It was right before the check came that you finally had enough with the all-consuming thoughts and blurted out the only thing you could truly focus on.

“I could never give you peace.”

“What…?” His wrinkled eyebrows did all of the talking.

“My… job. More people have been doing what those two girls did– asking for pictures. And I know how serious your job is, if people start asking for pictures of you too… I don't want to put you in that position.”

It was quiet for a moment. Although he was a genius, Spencer needed a moment to take in what you said. “Ditto.”

What? “What?” You slapped your hand over your mouth. You did not mean to say that out loud.

He didn't flinch, going straight into explanation. “My job is serious. Serial killer serious. My boss lost his wife because of this job. If you're worried about me in regards to your job, I’m worried out of my wits for you.”

“So… if we both can't provide peace?”

“It's a good thing I enjoy a little chaos.”

A small smile was shared between the two of you, and after the waiter dropped off the bill, you took another look at him. “Well, Dr. Reid, you really are a genius. You solved a majority of my fears with one small conversation.”

“It doesn't take a genius to see what he has in front of him has great

potential to be one of the best things in his life.”

A smirk appeared on your face when he shyly looked at you. “That good, huh? Does that mean I scored a second date?”

“Of course!” Spencer perked up, eyes immediately widening. “Did you know that the typical success rate for getting a second date is 13.7%, which gives a match an opportune time to learn the real chemistry between them and their match, including their values, passions, and family? First dates are actually–”

Sitting there, listening to him changed the smirk to a genuine smile. Maybe the two of you couldn't provide peace on the outside, but as he continues to speak passionately, you feel nothing warmth spread throughout you. The same type of warmth you feel at home; the same type of peace.

#SEND ME REQUESTS FOR MY LOVES!! #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #youtuber!reader #anne marie shut up pls :) #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic

[valsdelulucorner]

What I the brothers hands would look like

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer

His hands are in pretty good condition but they are always covered by his gloves

Long but chonky fingers, his fingers are thick and strong but they are quite long aswell

He keeps his nails in Prestine condition, having Asmo redo his nails if the paint chips

He keeps his nails short because of the gloves, but i like to think he picks them if he's stressed so that's another reason to wear gloves, making sure he cant ruin the skin around his nails

The top of his hand looks very pretty but his palm is rough, calloused, and scared.

His right hand having that little bump on his fingers from where he rests his pen

Has hands mixed between average and rough

Mammon

His hands are second to asmo's, he needs to keep his hands in good condition because he is a model

Lanky fingers littered in rings, not only do they look nice but they are quite good for pick pocketing

His nails are quite nice most of the time but after a night out or a night working for some extra cash, his nail polish does get chipped and scuffed

Hear me out, he accidently burnt off his finger prints in a hot pan one time while trying to get into a safe, not knowing it was a temperature not even demons can handle. Got smooth fingertips now

Got a few scars on his thumb and index fingers, covers them up with rings sometimes

Has soft hands

Leviathan

This man has vainy, Lanky hands, you cannot tell me otherwise

His fingers are extremely fast because he plays alot of rhythm games and games that require quick reaction time

His nail varnish gets chipped alot because he chews on them when he watches anime or watches game cutscenes

I like to think that he gets ruri~chan nail stickers and decorates his nails with them, much to Asmo's annoyance after finishing his nails

He likes to wear bracelets that complement his nails, alot of anime themed bracelets to match his nail stickers

I just know this mans palms are clammy and sweaty

Satan

Sorry Satan stans but I do think this man has average hands, fingers just a little over average length

His hands are scared from when he first came down to devildom, when his wrath was extremely explosive and impulsive. The scars are faded alot not but you can still see them faintly

I like to think his nails are in alright shape, he lets asmo redo them after a while as they gossip over it

His palms are alittle rough after resting them against the books he reads and his fingers are rough after the scars left deep marks. He uses hand cream to make them softer

Asmodeus

He has the nicest hands and nails out of his brothers

He has lovely long fingers that he sometimes decorates in rings, his nails are always nice and his hands are always soft

his knuckles and finger joints have natural blush and he is proud of it, he sees people on devil gram do tuts about how to get that with makeup and he will just respond with "Wait, people don't have it naturally?"

He always has different nail shapes when the trends change and go but his nails are always healthy. He prefers press on nails over acrylic, he doesn't like it when his nails are frail and weak after getting the acrylics off

His hands are the softest out of the brothers

Beelzebub

He's got the hardest hands out of his brothers due to all of the work outs he does

He has large hands and thick fingers, his fingers are long and his nails are quite scuffed

His hands are quite scared and are pretty huge, he can fit a entire coke can in the palm

Chews on his nails subconsciously sometimes when he gets hungry, much to asmo's annoyance

His fingers and palms are really rough and calloused because of how much he uses them

Belphegor

He's got long, bony, and vainy hands. They haven't seen the sun in years so they are really pale aswell

I think his nails are the most unkept out of all of the brothers, they get quite long because he sleeps alot of the time

Has scars on his wrist from where you scratched him and dug your fingers into him from when, you know, when he killed you. He thinks about those scars alot

He would be sleeping and asmo would just come up and fix his nails for him, shaping them down for him and painting them in a nice colour

His hands are actually extremely soft

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was sitting in my drafts for a while and I felt bad about the last post so here you guys are, I hope you guys enjoy<3

#valsdelulucorner #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me levi x mc #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x you #obey me beel #obey me beel x mc #obey me leviathan #obey me! shall we date? #obey me! nightbringer #obey me! one master to rule them all #om! shall we date #obey me! swd #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #vals interactive fics

[hunieday]

Iori, Yuki, Touma 2024 Shuffle talk RabbiTV Episode 1

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

*Door opens*

Izumi Iori: Good morning...Uh. What are you doing, Yuki-san?

Izumi Iori: Wrapping your hands around Inumaru-san's biceps…

Inumaru Touma: Good morning! Izumi!

Yuki: Good morning, Iori-kun. Touma-kun said he’s been really into muscle training lately, so I was just checking him.

Izumi Iori: C-Checking him...?

Yuki: If you're aiming to be like Ryuunosuke-kun, maybe you still have ways to go.

Inumaru Touma: That’s right...! I'll work even harder!

Yuki: Yeah, keep it up.

Izumi Iori: What kind of conversation is this... I thought I walked into the wrong room for a second…

Yuki: This is the planning room for the "Monthly World Travel".

Izumi Iori: I am aware.

Inumaru Touma: Oh man, I'm looking forward to Taipei! It’s interesting that we’re going sightseeing and challenging ourselves on a mission at the same time.

Inumaru Touma: We decided the members for this project by drawing lots, but the combination of the three of us seems a bit unusual, doesn't it?

Izumi Iori: Yes, it does. We’re different types of people...

Izumi Iori: ...I'm starting to feel anxious.

Yuki: What's making you anxious?

Izumi Iori: Just, overall.

Inumaru Touma: Huh? And here I thought that a trip with the dependable Izumi and Yuki-san would be good…!

Yuki: I’m dependable?

Izumi Iori: Please don't ask me that question.

Inumaru Touma: You really are dependable! I’ve been recording and watching "NEXT Re:vale" a whole lot!

Inumaru Touma: Also, I saw the way you looked at us when we were on the show together. You were looking as if you were watching over us, and it made me straighten my back!

Yuki: Is that so. Thank you.

Yuki: Maybe because Momo was there.

Inumaru Touma: Momo-san?

Yuki: Yeah. Momo isn't with us this time so I'll have to make sure I don't space out.

Izumi Iori: ...Inumaru-san.

Inumaru Touma: Huh?

Izumi Iori: Let's do our best. We should cooperate.

Inumaru Touma: Y-Yeah...?

Yuki: We’ll have the power of a hundred people with IDOLiSH7’s brainiac Iori-kun and ŹOOĻ’s leader Touma-kun in here. (1)

Inumaru Touma: Hehe, thank you very much...! I hope I’ll be able to communicate with the locals in English at least? That's the only thing I'm a bit worried about.

Izumi Iori: I think you'll be fine. Do you have confidence in English, Inumaru-san?

Yuki: Your rap is usually so cool after all.

Izumi Iori: We have members who are fluent when they sing but completely terrible at speaking, though...

Inumaru Touma: Well, my English is just about average, but I can manage somehow! It's all about the flow and momentum!

Izumi Iori: It's really strange, but it seems like it...

Yuki: That's hilarious. Our group shouldn’t have trouble communicating with the locals then.

Inumaru Touma: Yeah! Since everyone here can speak English, I'll learn a lot of things!

Izumi Iori: ...Looking at Inumaru-san’s positive attitude is making me believe everything will work out fine.

Yuki: I'm counting on you, children. (2)

Yuki: Now let's hope it's not too hot.

[Cut to Taipei]

Izumi Iori: As expected… Taipei is bustling with tourists.

Yuki: That's right. 

Inumaru Touma: I was a little worried about the weather since the rainy season is right around the corner, but I’m glad it’s sunny!

Yuki: That’s right.

Izumi Iori: ...Are you okay, Yuki-san?

Yuki: I might not be right…

Inumaru Touma: Are you tired, Yuki-san? Want me to give you a piggyback ride?

Yuki: ...ŹOOĻ’s Inumaru Touma giving me a piggyback ride doesn’t sound too bad.

Izumi Iori: You don’t have to do that. This isn't "NEXT Re:vale" after all...

Yuki: You're right. But I'll suggest a segment where we carry someone and run to the finish line next time.

Inumaru Touma: Sounds fun! I think Tora would be the only one in ŹOOĻ who could carry me…!

Accompanying staff: Once again, thank you for joining us today! Here is the card containing the missions with hints written on it. We'll also give you a map of Taipei to explore around!

Inumaru Touma: Thank you very much! ...Uhh, the mission is... 

Inumaru Touma: "Make your way to the flower carpet!", or so the card says!

Izumi Iori: A carpet... in a flower field, perhaps. We should be able to narrow it down quite a bit this time of the year...

Yuki: The hint says "popular tourist spot," but the map we got doesn't seem to have anything that hints at it.

Inumaru Touma: Yeah... Then how about we go somewhere we can ask the locals?

Yuki: Good idea. Sounds like a task that fits Touma-kun's high communication skills.

Inumaru Touma: Thanks! How about Yongkang…jie? It says there are many restaurants to enjoy and walk around, there might even be some shopkeepers who know something!

Izumi Iori: ...I see, it’s Yǒngkāng jiē (Yongkang Street). I've heard that there are many stores here where Japanese is spoken because of the amount of Japanese tourists who visit, so we might be on the right track.

Yuki: Amazing, Iori-kun's extensive knowledge is coming into play now.

Yuki: Momo, our children are growing up splendidly.

Izumi Iori: What are you mumbling to the camera?

Inumaru Touma: Well then, let's go there for now! Yuki-san, you feeling better now?

Yuki: I'm fine. Let's just take it slow. It's hot.

Inumaru Touma: Yeah! Slow but steady wins the race or something. Izumi, if you’re in trouble, let me know right away! You look like the type who doesn't show that kinda thing on your face.

Izumi Iori: Oh, thank you...You truly are the one who keeps ŹOOĻ together, aren't you...

Yuki: Fufu. I'm glad we have this group after all.

End of Episode 1.

This is a pun on Momo’s name (Hundred), as he has a combination of Iori’s wits and Touma’s communication skills and leader status. 

Yuki says “kouhai-kun-tachi”, which sounds like a more endearing way to refer to his juniors with the addition of the “kun” honorifics commonly used for younger people, so I chose to translate it as children. You can still interpret it as “little juniors” if you wish!

#idolish7 #i7 #ainana #idolish7 translation #izumi iori #yuki re:vale #orikasa yukito #inumaru touma #shuffle talk #shuffle talk 2024 #rabbitv

[sundrop-writes]

One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson

Season One, Episode One: "Titans"

Summary:

You and Dick haven't spoken since the Titans parted ways in San Francisco five years ago.

Even though you used to be as close as two people can be, both of you are doing just fine leading your own separate lives - until your psychic powers cause you to have a vision of the end of the world, and you have to turn to him for help. As much as Dick doesn't want to get involved, you know that him leading The Raven on the path she needs to travel is the only way to stop the terrible fate you saw.

He wants to deny it, and stay as far away from you as possible - but he can't avoid you or the truth that you have told him when he runs into that very Raven you speak of in an interrogation room later that night. He has to face a simple truth he has always known: you're always right.

Dick Grayson x Fem!Powered!Reader. Childhood Friends/Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Bantering/Humor. Set during Season 1, Episode 1.

Word Count: 2,300

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns (some people might accuse the reader character in this story of being more of an OC and I am okay with that - I try to make all the reader characters in my other stories as blank and open as possible and every now and then I let myself have a little bit of a treat) - but as usual with my stories, the majority of pronouns used in the fic are you/yours; other than clothing style and a scar that informs her backstory, the reader's looks are not described and are left vague (as far as race, body type, hair colour, etc. - those things are not described); the reader character does have powers - I might make a separate post detailing the reader's entire backstory and power set (or I might just let it be spelled out slowly through the chapters) - but for now, I will tell you that the reader character is psychic and can see glimpses of the future in dream-like visions; the reader and Dick are 'exes' - their relationship was never official (they never explicitly called each other boyfriend/girlfriend), but they used to have sex often (and they both have feelings for each other that they never openly spoke about), and they are childhood friends, so there is a lot of emotional history there; mentions of canon-typical violence; this fic does use Y/N; mentions of the reader being shot during a past undescribed incident; there is references to sex and discussions of sex, but no explicit smut (but there might be some later in the story? idk yet); emotionally constipated Dick Grayson; idk what else ? - pining, emotional angst, using humor to deflect emotional tension, banter. I just really like the vibes of this. there is not a lot of big content warnings for this fic (yet).

A/N: Honestly, I am really excited about this one. I have a lot of ideas for future episodes (especially the episode where Dick loses it emotionally and just gets followed around by a hallucination of Bruce for the entire episode - but that's not until Season 2, oop). Titans is one of my favourite series ever - if you couldn't tell - so getting to examine each episode closer and appreciate each individual episode as a unique piece of art while writing this instead of binging a whole season gives me a whole new appreciation for the show. I hope you guys enjoy these as they come out - especially because I do have an idea of where this fic is going, but I don't know where I want these characters to go in Season 4. (I kind of want to do a secret surprise reveal of two of the characters being related and being siblings, but... idk. Sometimes people don't like that.) But this is definitely a good opportunity to send me ideas of where you want this story to go/how you want it to end up. Anyway - please enjoy!!!

....

Dick needed some fucking air. 

He could barely fucking handle today. He had to compose himself before he lost it and started breaking things. It was all such a shitshow - the department pushing a new partner on him, footage of Robin all over the news, every other half-cocked beat cop making comments about how Robin was just another masked psychopath who wasn’t that different from The Joker. 

Fuck them. 

If they only knew what Gotham was like - if only they had to deal with a department full of asshole’s on the Joker’s payroll. If only they had to watch criminals walk away because they made bail on the decision of a corrupt judge. If only they had to sit behind a desk and listen to a mother’s sobs as she begged for him to find her missing child - knowing how many people elbow to elbow with him would laugh at her tears rather than start looking. 

If they only spent one night tending to civilians while the smell of burning flesh permeated the air, with the Joker’s screaming laugh stuck in their ears because he thought that bombing a low-income housing complex was just that funny. 

Fuck all of them. 

Dick clenched his fist tight - his knuckles aching as he resisted the urge to drive his arm right through the glass at the front of the precinct. He just - he really needed some air. 

Dick walked out the front doors (rather than smashing the glass), and took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying his best to calm down. It was getting late, and things were relatively slow, even for it being a Tuesday. No influx of late-night chaos yet. He had some time to collect himself before- 

“So - Robin’s in Detroit now, huh?” 

That voice. 

Dick felt the sting of familiarity pluck at his spine, and he whipped his head around at lightning speed, looking in the direction of the voice. Surely enough - you were the one standing there. It hadn’t been some kind of auditory hallucination on his part. 

So much for time to calm himself down. 

He was immediately met with a confliction - lust and annoyance bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to see you again, he didn’t want you to be here, especially not without warning. But you looked so damn good - it was a distraction from that fact. 

That was always the thing about exes, wasn’t it? 

(If Dick could even call you his ‘ex’ - the two of you had slept together more times than he could count, both metaphorically and literally, but the two of you had never put an official label on the relationship like he had with Dawn or Barbara. He cared for you like a friend, and like a lover in a way that he was never willing to admit - but did that make you his ex? Especially if he never stopped caring about you?) 

That thing about exes being: they always look so fucking good when you see them after a long time of being apart. The universe dangling something in front of you that you’re not allowed to have and technically, should no longer want. 

But oh - Dick found himself wanting so very badly. (And he tried his hardest to hide that fact as he continued to carefully stare you down.) 

Because you looked so good. 

You were wearing something of your usual style - an outfit of many confusing layers that somehow showed off the natural curves of your body and hid you all at the same time. 

A long skirt with a ruffled hemline and bold, colorful pattern. A pair of boots that you had probably gotten from some vintage store that were likely older than both you and Dick, leathery and well worn in. Your jacket was much the same - a supple brown leather with a soft fur lining that made you look very warm and cozy. 

Topped off with a pair of the largest, gaudiest dangling earrings that Dick had ever seen - the kind that would have gotten snagged on one of his nice shirts and gotten the two of you tangled up during one of your hook-ups. A pair of earrings that he would have scolded you for wearing - but he would have delighted in finding them on his bedroom floor after you left because it meant having a piece of you still with him. And it would mean having an excuse to visit you later because he had something of yours to return. 

Those earrings glistened in the light of the street lamps, just as your eyes did while you stared him down with those inquisitive, knowing eyes. Looking at him with that same expression you always wore - the one that seemed to say you knew everything that he never would. It equally fascinated him and infuriated him. 

He hated the fact that you had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, causing his heart to race - had you snuck up on him on purpose? Did you find it funny? 

“Y/N,” Dick said your name curtly, still feeling a slight twinge of shock that you were standing in front of him at all. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

You let out a dry chuckle, and stepped closer to him, making his whole body stiff. His first instinct was to step backward - to gain more distance from you. But he didn’t want to seem like he was afraid of you - afraid of that closeness. So he forcefully locked his legs and stayed in place as you drifted closer, and you idly conversed back. 

“Oh, Dickie.” You sighed in return, using his childhood nickname. “A warm welcome as always.” 

Dick rolled his eyes at this. Did he really need to bother with manners and formalities? The two of you had known each other for so long, he guessed that you were both well over stuff like that. 

“Do I need a reason to be here? Can’t I just visit an old friend?” You posed, a humorous tone still running through your voice. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he took a more defensive stance. He quickly went from shock then to annoyance. 

The two of you were old friends - you had known each other since you were in diapers together. The two of you had grown up together, raised by a unique circus family. And that meant that Dick knew you well enough to know that if you were here, you had a good reason to be. 

(If you had wanted to chase him when he first left Gotham, you likely would have camped out in the trunk of his car, or you would have shown up at his new apartment the day after he moved in. You wouldn’t have waited this long to contact him.) 

“Do us both a favor and cut the bullshit, please.” Dick replied sternly. “Why are you here?” 

“Grumpy.” You sighed, sounding defeated. 

He waited for a moment, and surely enough - you folded, now willing to directly explain your reason for showing up in Detroit so suddenly. 

“I had a vision.” You explained. “A girl. The Raven. A lot of others consider her to be the eater of worlds, but she is the one who is going to save us all, Dick.” 

He let out a harsh puff of air, reaching up and running fingers roughly over his temple. Yup, there it was - the headache had fully set in now. He really didn’t need this. Not tonight. 

He had known about your visions for a long time. When he was younger, he had been shocked to find out that you had inherited your mother’s ‘gift’. He previously had no clue that her set-up as a sideshow fortune teller with Tarot cards and a large crystal ball wasn’t all psychology tricks and half-guesses she put on for tourists - but in fact, it was actually something informed by larger supernatural forces at play. And it was something you could do as well. 

So he was inclined to believe you when you told him about this vague vision, but he also didn’t want to be involved. He had a lot on his plate right now - he didn’t need this. 

“Look, I’m sure that whatever you saw was important, but-” He began. 

You sighed and shook your head harshly at this ‘but’. 

“Why don’t you just take it to New York instead? This kind of thing is way more Donna’s speed, anyway. I’m sure she can help you find this girl, and-” 

“That won’t help.” You told him. “The girl is already on her way here.” 

You spoke the words with such utter certainty, and it sent shivers up Dick’s spine. The calm, tranquil look on your face - the ominous wiseness you held: it reminded Dick so much of your mother. The other-worldly authority she held that had ultimately gotten her killed. It was strangely creepy. 

“Just so you know, I hate it when you say ominous shit like that.” Dick told you, gesturing to your person with stiff offense in his body. “Just because your mother played the creepy voodoo witch for tourists doesn’t mean you have to.” 

“I’m not playing.” You replied, exasperated. 

You knew that Dick could be frightened of your powers at times. He was someone very logic-based - he built his beliefs around facts. So having you follow your visions and your ‘gut feelings’ when they were never concrete, changing on a dime - he hated the uncertainty and chaos that came with it all. But you had learned to trust yourself and your feelings over time, even if he didn’t. 

“And you know, you’re involved in this whether you want to be or not.” You told him, trying to get the conversation back on track. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Robin made his first appearance in months last night.” 

Dick became stiff at this, and quickly glanced around - as though waiting for someone to appear out of nowhere and point an accusing finger at him, screaming out that he was Robin and he had been caught. 

“You can’t help it, Dick Grasyon.” You declared with intense certainty. “You need to save people, you need to feel like you’re making a difference, you-” 

“So what, now you expect me to save the whole fucking world?” Dick snapped back. 

“She does.” You corrected. 

“Who?” He replied - confused and once again annoyed at your mysticism and bold confidence in your visions. 

“The Raven.” You told him. “She needs you. And whether you like it or not, you need her.” 

You shifted your stance then, waiting for him to tell you that you were right - which was how most of your arguments ended. 

But then, as a sick reminder, the lapel of your jacket opened enough for Dick to get a glance at your chest. The neckline of your blouse was wide open, but his eyes weren’t drawn to your cleavage - instead, he became focused on a large scar that you had sitting over your heart. A place where a bullet had ripped through you, leaving you barely alive. 

He still remembered the feeling of your blood warm under his hands while you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, begging him to save you. He remembered sitting at your bedside, believing that you would never wake up again. 

He couldn’t help but to reach up and gently skim his thumb across the roughness of the scarred skin as he glared at it with a stiff jaw. The touch sent shivers through you - it was the first time he had touched you since that last night in Gotham, when you had woken up to an empty bed and absolutely no explanation as to where he had gone. 

Dick felt rage boil inside of him. 

How could you ask him to save the world when he had been responsible for this? 

This - this was why he was no fucking savior. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said, choking on the words slightly as he took his hand down, shoving it back into his pocket once again. He had to avoid the temptation of touching you any further. 

If you weren’t safe around him, why would some little girl from your visions be? 

“This isn’t about me.” You scoffed. “Or-” 

‘Or us.’ 

You held back, knowing how dangerous it was to mention the royal Us around flighty Dick Grayson. For a bird without wings, he was absolutely capable of taking off in a quick moment when he wanted to. 

“This is about something so much bigger.” You pressed. “She’ll be here soon.” 

Dick let out another strained sigh at you using such ominous words again. 

“Well, next time you’re gonna come here and be all ominous and creepy, you should at least bring some coffee.” He told you, sarcasm tight on his lips. 

You made a mocking face in return. 

“Well, you could be more polite.” You scoffed. 

Before Dick could recommend that the two of you go and get a coffee in order to truly catch up, someone called out his name, drawing his attention away from you for a moment. 

“Hey, Grayson!” Someone called, sticking their head out the front door. “Prentiss is looking for you!” 

When he turned back, you were gone. He tried not to linger on it too much - how creepy it was. You were silent and quick like a ghost - he thought that your ominous jewelry might jingle like a house cat’s bell. 

But - he would call you later. Hopefully you still had the same number. 

…

Dick walked into the interrogation room, trying to clear his mind of the interaction with you. When he saw a small, scared girl, he thought it best to lighten the mood with a joke. 

“Hi, I’m Detective Grayson.” He said, introducing himself. “I hear you like to play baseball with bricks and cop cars. You wanna tell me what happened?” 

“You’re him.” She said, whimpering and tearful. “You’re the boy from the Circus.” 

At first, Dick thought that everyone was simply being ominous and creepy today. But then he realized:

‘Oh fuck. You were right.’

...

A/N: Please do not ask me when this fic will be updated - this fic does not have a schedule.

While this is technically the first chapter in a 'series', each chapter is meant to be enjoyed on its own. The overarching plot of the series is still that of the original Titans show, and I won't be making any major changes to the canon of the show - I just intend to showcase smaller emotional moments between the reader character and the canon characters. This is something I want to work on casually in the background between working on other things. This fic is not my main focus, and I will not be rushing to update it or complete it.

Comments and reblogs are encouraged, and I am thankful for them - but please keep those comments focused on the actual content of the series (it's plot, the characters, their dynamics, etc.). Please do not spam me asking me to update this or asking me when I will update this - because I am not in a rush to do so. I have a lot of ideas for this series that I am excited about, but I want to work on it slowly and casually because I don't want to lose my enthusiasm for it and I know that rushing will take that enthusiasm away.

If you enjoyed this - great, thanks. But if you expect this to be updated weekly like a factory pumping out stuff on a clearly outlined schedule - then you are in the wrong place. If you are expecting constant updates of this fic and you will be disappointed if it doesn't get updated regularly - you should just block me now and pretend you didn't read it. But if you are a patient person - feel free to read and enjoy my other Titans works while I am working on updates for this (and working on other exciting things), and feel free to send me a message telling me what you thought of this fic or other fics in general.

Also - if you can't get Dick Grayson off your mind - my requests are open.

#sundrop writes #dc titans #titans fanfiction #dc titans fanfiction #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #titans x you #titans x reader #bat boys x reader

[acesofspadess]

The Met

summary: you get ready for your first Met Gala that's full of surprises.

notes: fluff, fluff, and more fluff, this was so cute to write and as always reader is a POC.

“Hi Vogue, I'm y/n and I'm here with Pleasing at the 2024 Met Gala.” You were beyond words with emotion at being at your first Met Gala. The video Vogue had decided to do with you was a small get ready with me that you immediately accepted on the spot. As you walked into the serene hotel room full of your ‘get ready team’. You sat in the chair you were set to get your hair and makeup done in.“It’s unbelievable that i'm actually here in New York getting ready for the Met.” you spoke softly as your make up artist applied the beginning steps of your skincare. 

“You need something darling?” The voice of the one and only spoke from off camera only a sliver of him could be seen from the mirror you faced. You smiled looking at him through the mirror. “A kiss before Ella makes it impossible to do so.” You laughed softly at your own joke as he came over and the camera had a full view of the soft but love filled kiss you shared.

You and Harry had been together for almost a year romantically. You had known Harry since you both starred together in Don't Worry Darling as Jack and Alice. You two had quickly become the best of friends and were someone he confided in all the time. You travelled with him to Venice for the film festival, and came to the rest of his New York residency shows, and his birthday shows before your job pulled you away from him.

Not that you were really with him. His romantic relationship with Olivia was all a stunt. But he and Olivia were friends which he told you made it alot easier to do.

When they broke up in November of 2022 he came to you crying. You had thought it was all fake at first judgement, and he confirmed it was, but that he couldn't any longer spend his time pretending. 

You -better than anyone- knew what it was like to pretend after playing so many different characters. He had spent that night in your arms and you wonder if that's where it all actually started.

You were pulled away once again with months and months of press for your role in Barbie. It wasn't until the end of May that you finally had a decent break before picking up Bridgerton again for your season. You had stayed in touch with Harry for all 6 months and when he knew you were shot of anywork he flew you out to Scotland just in time for his show.

You spent countless time with him and his close friends getting to know them better and personally. You were beyond proud when he sold out Slane a few weeks after you had joined him on tour. Before he went on stage you were sitting with him in his dressing room as you calmed him down.

“Haz, you are the only person I know that could ever do something to this magnitude right now. You did this and I know you can go out there and be the best singer and person I know.” you cupped your hands around his cheeks and closed his releasing a deep breath. “You're amazing Hazza, and I know you know that.” he giggled softly and nodded his head. “Thank you,” the way he whispered your name wasn't like he had before. He looked at you with so much passion and you knew exactly the proximity between you- or lack thereof- and he knew exactly what he was doing when he looked at your lips then your eyes. “Harry-” “Y/N”

“You've got to be on stage in about 10 seconds.”

“I'm aware.”

“So are you gonna kiss me now or-”

That was all it took for you both to let yourselves completely and utterly fall for each other.

In September he introduced you to Niall which made you cry, but not as much as you did when he got down on one knee a few weeks later on October 15.

You wanted to keep the wedding very secluded and in a place both of you called home. Your wedding was small but everyone you could have ever wanted was there (with your own one direction reunion) and it was kept from the public.

The past few months as a married couple were the best months you've ever had, and now you were here, at the Met Gala, being the first to bring his brand into the luxury scene and the both of you couldn't be more proud of each other.

“Okay one more.” he whispered, giving you much more than just one before Ella and Lyric were shoo’ing him off to finally start. “I love you, darling. Thank you for being here with me.” you held his hand as he backed away. “Thank you for believing in my brand and bringing it to life. I love you forever.”

The video resumed as you talked about the details of your hair, make up and dress before you were fully done and ready to step out of the hotel. You wanted to be able to scream that you wearing your husband's line and when Harry kissed you as you walked out and told you, “show them who my wife is’ you knew he was ready and you were more than happy to oblige.

You had just made it to the Met Gala and as you stepped out you waved letting your wedding ring shine. The train to your dress was long -extremely long- and you needed about 5 people to help you lift it. 

As you waited in line, many people shouted your name and you waved to all the fans lined up on the streets sending them kisses in thanks. It was finally your turn to walk the stairs and they had cleared everyone in your path for you to be on full display.

The shutter of thousands of cameras and shouts wanting to gain your attention for a photo were drowned out when you saw someone you didn't think you would. “Harry over here please.” You heard someone shout and you laughed loudly, of course he would. You waited at the second landing of stairs for him and you kissed him as he finally stood next to you. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” you laughed in between poses. “Wanted you to have your moment. I'll see you at the top.” he walked up the rest of the way  stopping at the top just out of the way for the photographer to get you and your entire dress without anyone in the pictures. You and all the people helping you with your dress walked up to the top to take your final photos. You saw Harry in an interview with Emma not too far from LaLa Anthony who you knew you were interviewing with.

“Y/N!! Holy- Girl you look so sexy.” you laughed as you kicked your leg out showing off the slit. “I feel sexy in this dress. It took ages to put together.” you laughed with her. “Yes I was getting ready to ask, who are you wearing?” You couldn't help the smile that plastered on your face. “Oohhh I know that smile.” LaLa laughed and you nodded. “I'm wearing Pleasing. It's their first ever luxury fashion debut and I'm so glad I got to be a part of this experience. I got to help design this with Harry Lambert, and Harry Styles. They wanted to choose a colour that not only matched the theme, but really complimented my skin tone. We wanted to really focus on the ‘time’ part of the theme so each flowers centre has a clock in the middle. It took almost 25,000 hours to make this dress and Im really just so honoured that Harry and Pleasing gave me this opportunity.”

LaLa praised your response, “They chose the right person to debut on let me tell you. The way the colours bounce off the brown of your skin and the slit and the shape. You truly do look wonderful. Now we did see Harry walking up. I want to ask him about some things on your dress.”

You both looked around for him. “He was just here, I swear.” LaLa spotted him and waved him over, his eyes litting up when he saw you.

 “Hello.” he kissed Lalas cheeks before stepping next to you. “Hello, beautiful wife.” he kissed your cheek. “Hi my beautiful husband.” you teased back knowing exactly what he was doing. “Husband? Wife?” Lala gasped and you both smiled as you held up your hand. “Yes, I've finally managed to tie him down.” you all laughed and his arm snaked around your waist. “This is the best news ever, husband and wife, debuting your brand- Harry how do you feel?”

You watched as he spoke and swore you fell more in love with him at every moment. “But my beautiful wife put the idea of wearing Pleasing to the Met, and giving the vogue club members a pleasing room. This all goes to her, all we did was make the dress.”

You scoffed at his humbleness. “Yeah, like that was a walk in the park.” He shook his head at you blushing. “I'll say this final thing. Harry has done an amazing job at getting pleasing to where it's at and this dress and his outfit are his and Pleasings and I just can't wait for you all to see what he brings in the future.”

LaLa hugged you both before you walked away with Harry holding your dress for you. “Thank you so much for wearing this. You have been apart of Pleasing since the beginning and I couldn't imagine anyone else wearing this. You have truly made me the happiest person alive. I love you so much. ” He whispered to you as you walked inside. “I have loved you in many ways since we first read together. I am honoured to have been by your side through Pleasings beginnings, and i simply cannot wait to see what you do next.”

He kissed you softly again and again and again, and you simply could not wait to be back in the hotel room in his arms. 

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