#what it comes down to is - as it is most of the time - curate your dash and your fandom experience. you can't change other people's

[goldsbitch]

BEEP

First night in a shared apartment with Lando. All is idyllic - until there is an unidentifiable alarm sound, which brings out insecurities buried safely inside under normal circumstances.

fluff, anxiety vibes, one shot

Y/N was a baths type of person. In fact, Lando suspected her being a part-time mermaid. Always in a body of water, if possible. For hours and hours. Many times he had come to her home only to find her sitting in a bathtub of then already cold water on her "home office" hours, with a laptop on her precisely curated set up. He would come to her, chat a little and playfully splash some water into her face, before having her drain the tub and joining her after another set of hot water was in it. Even after that, he could only last about 20 minutes before getting uncomfortable.

He was glad water bills were not life or death for him when they moved together to their first official shared apartment in Monaco. Making it their own was her priority, so a bathtub was an absolute must. Pool nearby as well.

As far as moving houses goes, this was a hectic one. Lando's schedule making it hard for him to participate, so she had to organize it all with the help of movers. Cleaning out two apartments into one. She was few years younger than him and this was the first time she had actually moved on her own, making it a classic test of adulthood. There were few pseudo panic attacks involved during the process. However, the feeling of accomplishment? Being able to prove to herself that she can do it alone was something nobody could ever take from her. Another level of adulthood conquered. But she didn't want Lando to know about this little insecurity of hers - with him having to grow up faster than most of his peers, she sometimes felt like she was lacking behind. Though Lando never made any comment about that, in fact this did not cross his mind at all, until their first proper evening together in their new apartment.

Lando was excited for that evening, but he was proper tired. Physically and mentally drained. Few weeks of constant travel and racing drama had him totally off.

She managed to get most of things ready for his arrival. They hit the bubbly bathtub immediately upon him coming home. Lando was smitten. Coming home, it felt really refreshing after months of "your place or mine?".

It was raw, both of them naked facing each other in the tub, legs entangled, their bodies touching at multiple places. Hot steam coming out of the water filled the room, curling Lando's hair more that usually and the scent of her latest favorite vanilla bath salt gave into the relaxing atmosphere. They casually caressed each other, engaging in a light simple conversation, carefree and intimate.

All of that went out of the window when there was an excruciatingly loud and sharp beep alarm noise suddenly out nowhere.

BEEP

Y/N eyes went wide. Lando knew that look all too well by then. Pure panic. He knew there were few moments he had to stop her spiraling.

"What was that? Did you hear it?" she asked, boring her eyes in his for answers he did not have.

He smiled and tried to pass on some relaxing energy onto her. "Yes, I did...Calm down, it's probably nothing."

"Probably?! How can you be sure?"

Lando reached for her hand. "I'm sure. All is good and fine, let's not get bothered by anything. I missed you so much," he said truthfully. She was what he wanted to focus on. Not some nonsense sounds.

She eased a bit, her fingers still feeling tense in his hands. "I miss you everytime."

"Oh, so it's a competition now?" he smirked, happy he got her distracted.

BEEP

The two stared at each other in silence for few moments.

"Honey, ignore it," he said trying to sound more demanding than a plea.

Y/N took a deep breath in. "I am ignoring it."

"I can see that, clearly," he said sarcastically. "Tell me about your week instead. Were the movers ok? Did they do a good job?"

"Well, we're sitting here and we have a bed to sleep in, so I'd say it was a success," he replied dryly.

"You're my little nervous peach, aren't you?" he said, leaning closer to her so that he could caress her face. Oh boy, was he drowning in love with this strange human sitting across him.

She let go of her pout. "Yes...But, you're the one to talk! You always get nervous before a car upgrade."

He was truly fascinated how she was unapologetically able to compare new McLaren upgrades with a random beep sound. He'd already made a mental check of the things that could have been making that sound and figured all the important alarms made a completely different sound. For a moment, he imagined his girlfriend sitting in a formula 1 car going over 200 km/h, freaking out in the style only she knew how. He'd never admit this to her, but he found her "freaking out" face irresistible.

He calculated his response. "It's perfectly fine to get nervous. But trust me, this in nothing."

BEEP

Her question was almost immediate. "What if it's the gas. What if we have a gas leak. A guy came here to do an inspection yesterday, what if he didn't close the vent or whatever?"

"Honey, the gas is not even on now..." he looked at her perplexed.

She was unstoppable at this point. "I don't know that! I don't understand these things! It's all gas heater there, air conditioning here, water boiler this and insurance that. Did you know we need to have a property insurance for the lease?"

"Yes, I knew that." He was not sure how to keep responding at that point. The last thing he wanted was to make her spiral more.

"Well, I didn't! Felt like an absolute idiot talking to the guy, I thought these things were part of leases."

Lando squeezed her hand. "It's fine. Once we get out of the tub, we'll go and search for the sound. Hey, maybe it has already stopped."

She was staring at him, waiting for her cue, expecting a beep sound any moment now. He returned her look, challenging her, making a battle of who was right. And the sound? Suddenly, not even a little ding.

"See?" he said, really hoping it was not going to come as he finished.

Tension was high in the bathroom, making it the opposite of relaxing. Yet still, there was no place other than these two would rather be. Well, Y/N would rather be at the source of the forsaken beeping, but, that was not happening now.

"Ok. Maybe you're right," she said, visibly tired as well.

"We'll get out of this bath in few mins, have dinner in the bed, watch some nonsense and go to sleep, ok? I need your cuddles, desperately," he said softly and leaned to kiss her.

BEEP

"Oh my god, what is that???" she screamed in utmost annoyance.

"Honestly, it sounds like it's coming from outside the house," he observed - and she was not having it anymore.

She gave him a sassy smile. "So, what. Is it the apocalypse now?"

"It's not the apocalypse."

Flustered wave hit her face, having her melt down completely. "Why would someone install an alarm somewhere and have it beeping for no apparent reason? People don't do that."

"I don't know, my love..."

"That's ok, but I should know! I took over the apartment from the realtor - I should have asked!"

"And what would the question be? What are the things that could beep?"

She threw her arms out, splashing water everywhere and not even noticing it. "I don't know! That's the thing! I just don't know. And I don't have a single idea where people find these out. How come everyone around always seems to know and I'm here just sitting, vibing and hoping we're not going to burn the house down."

"Y/N? What's this about?" he asked, concerned. Was she ok? Was there something he'd missed?

She was on a roll, words just flowing out of her mouth, the way only speaking to Lando made her do. "I just feel so out of place some times. I'm doing all these adult things, far away from family and from you as well. And I want to be able to do it, I want to be a good adult. But I just don't know."

He tried to hold her hand once again, but she was busy having her arms crossed around her chest. "You're still young, this is growing up. I also don't know yet, many times..."

"I don't want to be your burden, I want to be your support."

"You are my support, what are you on about?"

"I was suppose to be in charge of the whole moving thing. And here we are and I can't even tell you what's beeping."

BEEP

"My god! Can it just stop! Please!"

Lando was still thinking about what she said previously. The familiar feeling she described.

"You did a great job with the move, by the way. Honestly. It would not happen without you. I wish I could be here more," he spoke slowly, hoping she would subconsciously join in his tune.

She sighed. Might as well get everything out now. "I love you, you know that. But it gets lonely sometimes. And there is no end of your nomadic lifestyle in sight. And what if you get bored of me once you stop traveling? We've never spent a month without a break together. What if when you're older, you decide I'm actually pretty boring and you leave me for someone younger. And I'll be old, pass my best years and alone once again."

She stopped, surprised a little bit by the words that came out of her. Now that it was out, it was impossible to ignore.

Lando was hyper focused now. Every word a calculated decision. This was no longer a chill chat.

BEEP

"Y/N. I love you too. And I love you the way you are and I can't imagine loving anyone else. I'm also excited for the older version of you to come one day, to accompany my older self that I have yet to meet. I want to be with you. My job is making this harder, but I hope this will not be an obstacle for you."

The last thing she wanted was to make him feel guilty. She got mad at herself for tangling things up together so much that it stopped making sense to her. "Of course not. I love your passion and the fact you dream big. Sorry, this got a little out of hand."

"No, I'm glad you're finally phrasing your worries. Is there anything more?" Lando was keen on continuing this impromptu chat.

"What if we grow apart? People change all the time. What if we stop wanting each other? How long can love last?"

He smiled. "For me it's impossible to imagine it now. I can only speak for my present self. But what you described it the last thing I'd ever want to happen."

Y/N took a deep breath once again. "Do you want children? Because I don't know yet. Yet, unlike you, I don't have the luxury of decades to decide. My time is slowly running up. And here I am, not even sure if want them?"

"Honey, plenty if time for that. I'm sure I do not want children in the next two years anyway. It must be real fun in your head sometimes - in one sentence you're too young to know adult stuff and in other you're too old for having children?"

She finally laughed. "Yeah. It is confusing sometimes."

"I hope you don't get offended, but you look absolutely gorgeous when you're flustered. Don't be too hard on yourself, please."

"I'll remind you of that when you're on your typical self-hate trip after a bad race."

"Touché." Got him there.

"Shall we get out of the bath? Would you mind searching with me for the alarm?"

"With you I'll be happy to do absolutely anything."

He got out and reached a hand for her when she was getting up, almost as a metaphor for her current state. They helped each other dry out, put on new matching bathrobes that Lando brought as a gift and searched the whole apartment for anything that could or would beep. There were few more beeps coming their way before they suddenly stopped. The two figured it really was coming somewhere from outside. Once Y/N was finally convinced they checked everything, she agreed on getting to bed and cuddle. Lando offered going out to get her ear buds for sleeping, but by that time it had already stopped.

They never found the source of the beeping. But, that's ok. Sometimes things just make unexpected noise and it's fine.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 one shot #f1 one shot

[billskeis]

ᡣ𐭩 first time w bill

it was time. bill was finally ready to do it, after doing some research on his own time he eventually came to the conclusion that he was ready to have sex with you. it was communicated between the two of you and you couldn’t be any more happy to take this next step of the relationship.

you loved bill and you wanted his first time to be amazing.

“are you sure you’re ready bill?” you ask nervously, you didn’t know what caused this anxiousness. you’ve had plenty of experience before, but considering that this was the first time you’re actually doing it with someone you love makes your stomach fill with butterflies.

“yes, y/n, you don’t need to worry about me.. god, you’re breathtaking,” he comes to hug you, placing a kiss onto your lips. he takes a step back, grasp on your waist as he admired you in all your glory.

you wore a black matching lace set, showing off all your curves. bill just stands there to think about how he’s so lucky to be with the most beautiful person ever.

“bill..” “i’m sorry meine liebe, i just cannot stop staring at you,” you lean into kiss bill, cutting off his talking because once he starts he doesn’t know how to stop. deepening the kiss, he brings you to sit down on the bed, straddling you now onto his lap.

gently, he flips you onto the bed to lay on your back. kissing your neck, he goes down slowly leaving a trail of kisses on your body, reaching your heat, stopping. he sits up a bit to just look at you, expectingly.

he’s waiting for an answer, the okay, to take your panties off. you smile at him sweetly, to which he returns, his puppy dog eyes never leaving you.

wait, fuck, does he want to do this in missionary?

out of all the guys you had sex with, none of them wanted to do it in missionary with you. face to face. with bill, it’ll be your first time. your anxious, almost scared, not wanting him to see the ugly expressions you may possibly curate on your face while looking at him. it’s embarrassing.

propping yourself up on the bed a bit, you grab one of the pillows to hold it in front of your body, hugging it tightly. “baby, what’s with the pillow..?” he looks at you disappointed, he wanted to see your face while it’s the first time you guys do it.

“uhh—yeah! i just feel more comfortable with the pillow.. is that okay?” “mm, i guess so baby..” you then look up at the ceiling until you feel bill grab each side of your panties and pulls them swiftly off your legs, discarding them some place else in the room. “oh god,” he almost gasps.

slick glistens from between your legs, as bill leans in a little closer, he feels a stripe up the folds of your cunt, passing over your clit making your hips jolt up. there’s now a painful and uncomfortable tightness inside his pants. “bill.. please don’t tease.”

“m’ sorry baby, you’re just so pretty,” he inserts a finger, the stretch of his fingers feeling amazing. his fingers are long and slender, and despite his lack of experience, knows exactly how to utilize his hands, the pad of his fingers pressing over a spot your body particularly likes.

unable to control your moaning, you shove the pillow into your face. bill, clearly unsatisfied with this, inserts another finger, the feeling now even more unbearable as he brings his fingers back and forth, ensuring to curl them upwards to continuously hit the spongey part of your cunt that made you crazy.

choking on your breath, you try and get him to stop, “b-bill,” “hmm?” “i-in..” due to your lack of usage in words, he doesn’t quite understand you. that is, until, the coil in your stomach that was building up finally snaps.

legs shaking, your high washes over you and he lets you ride it out on his fingers. eventually, catching your breath he takes his fingers out and asks, “i’m so sorry oh my god, what is it that you want ‘in’ again..?” genuinely sounding concerned, he sits there clueless as if he didn’t just finger fuck you to an orgasm.

damn, how fucking clueless can he be?

you look down as his crotch, the obvious bulge wanting and needing to come out. he looks at your face to them look at his own crotch and back at you, “oh! yea, hold on..” he finally unzips his pants and frees his dick, springing up in anticipation as it hits his lower stomach.

holy fucking shit he’s huge.

and i’m talking wayy huger than any guy you’ve ever been with. you swallow a hard lump in your throat, calculating the length and the girth of his penis, unable if you could actually take it. having staring for too long, you shove the pillow into your face once more, waiting.

bill uses his fingers to collect the cum from your cunt, your hips shaking a bit from the sensitivity. he lathers it onto the tip of his cock and down his shaft. aligning it, he decides to tease you by rubbing his tip up and down your slit, staying a little longer to rub on your clit.

“b-bill! please, m’ still sensitive..just—put it in,” he inhales sharply, pushing inside. you can’t see him, but his mouth is agape at the new foreign feeling. “g-god y/n.. you feel so good..” as he inserts his thick length deeper inside of you, you can feel it all in your gummy walls.

you can feel your breath becoming short, almost choking as your body attempts to engulf all of your boyfriend. bottoming out, bill groans, he feels so good to be inside you. you hold the pillow as tightly as you hold bill, clenching onto him as you adjust to his size.

“is—is it okay if i move now schatz..?” face still covered, you nod into it, he sees these movements as an okay and begins slowly thrusting. he starts off erratic but soon begins to find a rhythm. he’s a natural, you thought, and this kills you both internally and externally. a bubbling begins to form into your lower abdomen once more, biting onto the pillow to make sure none of your moans slip.

a yelp can be heard from you when bill snaps his hips a little too harshly, now causing you to scream a little, legs shaking once more. bill gets scared, oh no, is he too big? did you die? does it simply just not feel good with him? fuck. thoughts filled his head as he rips the pillow from your grasp and looks utmost concerned.

“baby are you okay!? what’s wro—“ he looks down at you, watching you spew quiet and continuous ‘no’s’ and ‘don’t look.’

you have an absolutely fucked out face, tongue lolled to the side as saliva pools out a bit, your chest heaving, breasts slipping out your bra to reveal your perky nipples. he didn’t notice until he looked down, a now wet spot below the two of you where you connected, with a more obvious ease to slip his dick in and out your cunt. you came.

a tear spills out your eye, sniffling as you attempt to cover your face with the palms and fingers of your hand “i came again.. no more..” sniffling, bill wipes a tear from your face gently, “already done? but baby.. i didn’t get to come yet,” he begins moving once more. electric buzz can be felt in your core, a burn that feels so bad yet so good at the same time.

you mewl, grabbing each of one bills arms that had situated on both your hips to thrust hardly. how the fuck is he so good for his first time!? adding to the mix, he shakes away one of your hands from his arm and begins to rub circles on your clit, eyes rolling back, you try and get him to stop by smacking his arm, using any last bit of sense you had that bill already hadn’t fucked out of you.

“does it feel good y/n? i-i feel so good, i can’t stop. i won’t stop. m’ sorry baby, but you feel amazing,” not taking any time to stop his movement he continues to slam his length into you. biting his lips, he tries to hold his smile back from admiring how sexy you look under him.

his babbling doesn’t even register in your head, it’s all fuzzy and cloudly, eyes rolling back as all you can see now is white. “i-i can’t anymore..!” “i know, i know baby, one more time. just one more time and i’ll be done okay? how’s that sound?” you nod just hoping for him to stop because it hurts so good. the sensations were just too much.

little did you know, bill’s a liar. a big liar, he doesn’t want to stop, and he’s not going to. his cock is constantly rubbing against your g stop, he sometimes slows his pace to grind against you, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. “unnnh b-bill,” “i’m gonna come, that okay? can i come in you?” he asks in anticipation, not being able to say no to your cute boyfriend you just nod.

luckily you’re on birth control, so bill feverishly rams himself into you, the burn of his hips hurting, but seeing as how it makes you feel good he doesn’t want to stop.

your bodies are just so compatible he wishes the two of you could melt together and never leave this moment, ever. looking at your belly while he fucks you, he thinks about coming and filling your stomach with his sperm.

the thought turning him on so much when he also sees how big the size difference is between the two of you, tip moving inside and out to cause a little bump form on your stomach from each thrust throws him over the edge.

stilling his movement, he cums inside of you, sperm coating the plush, velvety walls of your cunt. groaning, he rides his high out as he grinds his hips again just one more time. his grinding caused you to come once more. you scream a bit, biting your fingers raw to hold back your moans. bill on the other hand groans so loud the neighbours could probably hear him.

you’re already overstimulated, and you’re so tired. past relationships only managed to get one orgasm from you, most times not even one.

as your bodies were once connected from each other, he gets up from laying on top of you, kissing your lips, “are you okay..?” he asks, places kisses on your cheek, trying to catch your breath, you say, “never felt better,” “good, because i can still go for more! you can too, right!?”

bill looks at you with puppy eyes, you can almost see dog ears and a tail wagging happily. fuck, you can never say no to him. your pride and ego as someone who’s had more experience have just been thrown out the window. but who can say no to such a cutie??

you pat his head, he smiles brightly at you with flushed cheeks and sweat dripping of his forehead. getting up, he slips himself out of you as you sit upright on the bed. standing on the edge of the bed, he holds his cock out to your face.

you look up to him, a dark look in his eye, but a fire almost glinting in them. he smacks the tip of his dick onto your cheek, definitely expecting more from you as he’s made it super clear.

“suck it.”

what happened to my cute virgin boyfriend??

you came about four more times that night.

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz smut #2000s #fyp

[illustromic]

My thoughts on drawing wings (an unofficial tutorial)

Do you want to get better at drawing your favorite winged character? Do you have winged OCs? Just want to learn something new? I can't promise this post will help, but maybe it'll give you some helpful tips.

I know, I knowww, wing tutorials have been done to death. I don't care. This was initially inspired by a conversation on twitter, but actually I've wanted to write down my notes on the topic for a long time lol. Basically wings are one of my special interests so it's very important, for me, to draw them both nicely and also realistically.

On that note, let me first show you my resume *distant sound of floodgates opening*

Like what you see? Read on! (Oh, and I will only be covering feathered/avian wings bc those are the type I know best.)

Now, I'm not here to give you a step-by-step guide on wing anatomy and aerodynamics, because there are plenty of other resources that cover this already, and I'll list my faves at the end of the post. Right now, I'm going to give you some easy guidelines and tricks that I wish more artists knew.

1: Wings do, in fact, have bones (crazy, I know) and are actually very rigid because they have to support the weight of a living creature. There are some positions you cannot physically force a wing into irl.

2: Flight feathers are not placed willy-nilly on the wing, because then they wouldn't catch the air properly. Again, like the bones, they are rigid and strong, so don't draw them like fur or ribbons. All wings have the same pattern of feather placement, with slight variation depending on species. If you learn the feather sections, it will automatically improve your drawings a lot.

2.5: Feathers overlap each other like a handful of playing cards, and this looks different depending on which side of the wing you're drawing. They always do this unless they're extremely untidy.

3: The size of the wingspan is important if you're going for a more realistic design. There is no "scientifically accurate" measurement when it comes to fictional creatures, but my general rule is when in doubt, you probably need to make them bigger. Personally, for my original winged human species, I give them wings that can be up to 12 feet long each (the artistic sacrifice is that it's really hard to fit the wings on the dang page lmao, so make your own call).

4: Get used to drawing folded wings. Most of the time, birds keep their wings folded because it prevents them from getting damaged and it conserves energy. The trick is to get good at visualizing how the joints bend and overlap (look at plenty of photos!) In general, they can fold much tighter than you think.

5: Wings and feathers take a lot of patience to draw, but the results are worth it. I've seen so so many incredibly beautiful and skillful artworks that are---well, maybe not ruined, but still negatively affected by a pair of wings that look like an afterthought, or not even like wings at all. You have no idea how much a little extra time and practice will add to your work until you see for yourself.

Finally, some notes on "stylized" wings: Of course it's perfectly ok to draw more simplified/cartoony wings if that's your preference!! BUT there is a difference between a stylistic choice and a lack of effort/poor understanding of the subject matter. Even cartoonists have to learn the fundamentals of realism so they know how to make their designs logical and appealing. Here are some examples of more stylized wings that I feel retain the core principles of anatomy/aesthetics:

And last but not least: A list of helpful links I use personally for reference and inspiration!

I made this pinterest board for general artsy inspo, and this board to curate my very favorite tutorials/refs/information, focusing on the scientific aspect of wings and flight in general. Feel free to use both! (I also suggest pinterest in general for pose refs and such, but try to only practice using photos at first and not other drawings.)

I highly recommend this blog and this blog if you want examples of artists who draw more realism-based winged creatures!! They are both huge inspirations for me and I think you should totally follow them even if you don't plan to draw wings lol <3

If you're REALLY serious about it, my favorite ref books are: Winged Fantasy, a lovely drawing book by Brenda Lyons; Proctor & Lynch's Manual of Ornithology; and Angelus vincens by R. Spano, which is essentially an artbook by someone who (I believe) designed biologically plausible "angels" for their senior thesis.

Ok, idk how to end this lol but I hope it helped! I know it's not my normal kind of post but I'm super busy with college stuff rn and this was all I had time for. If you guys have any questions or feedback, please let me know!!!

-Aloe <3

#my art #wings #drawing #tutorial #the way I could've talked for so much longer haha #but it's 3 am for me and I am fading fast so GOODNIGHT

[rachelzeglertruther]

Why You're Wrong About Rachel Zegler

This is a long post, but there's a lot of context missing from the Rachel Zegler "discourse" that I thought I could add with my history of watching this unfold from the beginning.

The Snow White Thing

You probably know this part. There's a curated video of Rachel going viral, framed to make her seem like she's never seen Snow White, she hates the story, she hates the character, she's ungrateful, and single-handedly ruined Disney's brand. The clips from these videos are not new— they were released nearly a year ago in September 2022 and nobody cared about them at the time. Why? Because all the full interviews she did that day at the Disney Exo in 2022 showed a young, charming woman who was excited and proud to be cast in an iconic role. The interviews were very well received and it was a non story. Now that it's been edited down and cut together in a malicious way, and the people sharing them are purposefully misquoting her, they've twisted the context. Normally, this would be a non controversy. Even if that video wasn't taken out of context and spliced together to make her seem like she hates the film, most people wouldn't care. The issue is the response to the video.

Let's get this out of the way: Rachel Zegler doesn't hate Snow White. She relayed that she was afraid of the forest scene as a child and didn't revisit it again until after she was cast in the role. She has since then watched it several times and has expressed for YEARS before that interview came out that she was incredibly honored and grateful to be playing such an iconic Disney princess. If you watch the full videos that those clips came from, this comes across immediately to anyone with their own mind. If you hate someone for being scared of something as a child, I don't know what to tell you. If the role was being given to the biggest Snow White fan, you would be correct that she doesn't deserve it. Unfortunately for you, this role requires talent and Rachel has the Golden Globe and critical acclaim from people who matter within the industry (her peers and critics).

You know who does hate their beloved characters in beloved franchises but the general public still applauds them? Harrison Ford, Sean Connery, Daniel Craig, and Robert Pattinson. They've all expressed outright contempt for the roles and the films they were part of, but nobody cared. People had fun with their quotes but they still respected them. Rachel said nothing even closely resembling their remarks, but she's being torn to shreds. Are we seeing a pattern here?

Rachel never said a single bad thing about the character or the animated film— she said that it was outdated and that set people over the edge, foaming at the mouth to have her burned at the stake. If you think it would be perfectly fine to have a movie about an abused 14 year old girl run away to play housemaid for a bunch of men, get kissed in her sleep/death by an adult man, and then wake up to fall into his arms in 2024, that's certainly a hot take. If you're against remakes, direct your ire at Disney. But if you truly think that plot would work with young girls today, you're the one who's out of touch. It would do far more harm than good to portray a young woman in that light.

She also never said that there was anything wrong with romance or love. She said that the new Snow White wasn't only dreaming of that. I can't stress enough that this wasn't her decision… she was describing the plot of the new film that was written by Greta Gerwig and approved by Disney. There's a prince in the film and he will also have a more developed personality and storyline. If you have a problem with the writing, wait until it comes out so you can write your strongly worded letter to Greta. If you have a problem with the concept in general, take it up with Disney. There's no need for you to be defensive over hurting the legacy of a multi-billion dollar company or a 87 year old cartoon written by a proud racist antisemite. This is the most confusing part of the hate campaign to me because it wasn't even her opinion— she was literally describing the plot of the film she had nothing to do with. It also isn't a new thing. Disney actors have been promoting their newer films this way for years.

It's perfectly okay to like things that are problematic. It's becoming an issue that we refuse to acknowledge that maybe some things we love are harmful. What we can't do is justify why it's not problematic, and in fact everyone who calls it out is the problem and NOT their precious cartoon. The 1937 Snow White was an amazing feat of animation. It's a classic for a reason. But it was also Hitler's favorite film and was directed by a white supremacist (the one who is "rolling in his grave" due to Rachel's existence, according to his son). Things don't exist in a vacuum and we can't ignore the bad parts.

How We Got Here:

The thing that everyone is missing is the source of this campaign. This started in September of 2020 when transphobic actor Gina Carano made fun of trans people by changing her pronouns to beep/bop.boop. Rachel indirectly called her out by coming to the defense of the trans community.

She never called out Gina by name (though she rightfully could have). Mind you, Rachel's first film hadn't come out yet. Nobody knew who she was outside of those of us who were anticipating West Side Story and were fans of her covers on YouTube. She was a "nobody" in the industry. Take this part with a grain of salt because I can't confirm it, but Gina and her fans directly blame Rachel for her being banned from Twitter. Again, I really don't think that matters as she's harmful to the trans community and shouldn't have a platform. What does matter is that fans of Gina (which, let's be real, are just fans of transphobia) have been stalking Rachel's every move since then. Unfortunately for them, there wasn't much they could use against her other than to call her woke and #snowbrown when she was cast a year later as the Disney princess. The noise has always been there, but unless you were a fan of hers, you probably didn't hear about it. It wasn't until two years after this that they had something else against her.

If you've recently seen a video of Rachel crying circulating that claims to be her reaction to the recent Snow White backlash, it's an old video. It's from a vlog from her youtube channel posted in June 2022. It was in response to these exact same transphobic anti-woke conservatives who thought that they had something when she did an interview on the red carpet of the Shazam premiere. When asked why she joined the DC universe, she responded "I needed a job." It was generally well received by most people who thought it was cute and funny, but those who were waiting in the shadows latched onto it as an excuse to send her death threats.

The video was also about a month after she was invited to present at the 2022 Oscars and was made to seem like she bullied the Academy (as a no name newcomer, mind you) into letting her attend. In reality, a fan left a comment on her Instagram asking what she was wearing to the event. She responded that she wasn't invited but would be rooting for everyone from her couch in her boyfriend's pajamas. It was the public who demanded she get an invite and the Oscar's must have agreed that it was very odd that the lead actress of a film that was nominated for Best Film wouldn't get an invite. Whether it was an oversight on their part or a scheduling issue with Rachel's filming, I truly think there was no malicious intent from either party. Keep in mind, she used to be very active with her fans (she's a huge fangirl of things herself and has always had a strong relationship with her fans) and she wasn't used to her comments becoming articles and national tv segments. This was the first time it happened to her. It appears she learned that she's not just a girl who posts on YouTube anymore and she's going to be put under a microscope for every move she makes. She has since shut down her Instagram comments and rarely interacts with fans outside of liking comments these days because of this.

I know this is long, but I need people to understand where this is all coming from. It didn't just happen out of nowhere. It's an orchestrated campaign built by violent conservatives, and thousands of women who saw Barbie this summer are hopping on the bandwagon to beat another woman into submission because they have a lot of internalized misogyny to deal with. She's not smug, you just hate women. It's okay to find people annoying, but it's valuable to look into why you think that. If you see a confident young woman expressing views that don't actually harm anyone and you think she needs to be "humbled" and "put in her place" by the entire internet dogpiling her, you've lost your mind. Using "body language experts" (fake job) to diagnose her as a psychopath is so vile. Everytime someone mentions her name online, the comments beneath it are full of the most violent, misogynistic, racist things I've ever seen. If you're contributing to that, you've chosen your side. Reevaluate or seek help.

I'm tired of seeing this happen to young women. We let this happen to Jennifer Lawrence, Brie Larson, Millie Bobby Brown, Halle Bailey, and Jenna Ortega. It's one thing to call out celebrities and hold them accountable when they're doing something actively harmful, but that's not what this is about. That's never been what this is about. We pick these girls to pieces and examine them and pull them apart to justify our hatred of young women who rise to success too quickly for our liking. We dogpile and try to stamp out the flame before they burn too bright. Barbie is still in theaters and you all loved it, yet you're demanding that a bright girl with a big future be small and submissive and humbled because you have issues. That's not feminism. You're just the girls who would have bullied Weird Barbie for using her hands too much when she talks.

#rachel zegler #snow white #disney #barbie #rachelzegler #there's also misinformation about her standing up for ansel elgort which isn't true #sorry but she hates that man #you're thinking about ariana debose who defended him #we'll get into that later

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ruggie, Trey: More and More

TWST once again picks the most INCRIMINATING villain shots to display in the picture frames 😭 I am BEGGING the museum curator to do better/j

A Tale as Old as Time.

A lion cub, a warthog, and a meerkat.

It was an odd trio, a group of animals that, under normal circumstances, would never be together. Certainly not like this—not grinning, snuggling up with each other. Carnivore, herbivore, omnivore. Sharing the lives they had, joined in heart and in song.

No worries for the rest of their days.

Ruggie snickered behind one hand. Man, ain't that the dream?

"They've got nice smiles."

The hyena's ears perked. His eyes shifted to a Heartslabyul student gazing upon the same painting. Tall, built well, in glasses.

"Come again?"

"Their teeth," Trey clarified, pointing. "You see? They have different shapes based on their diet. Warthogs mainly eat vegetables, so they have strong, flat molars for crushing plants. But lions are carnivores, so their teeth are sharper for slicing through meat. And meerkats--"

"Okay, I get it already! Now quit it, you sound almost as creepy as Rook." Ruggie groaned. "Can't believe you take one look at this and your first thought is what's in their mouths."

"You don't?" The joke fell flat, and Trey let it go "How about you? What's your first thought when you look at this? If I'm remembering correctly, this painting is based on a story from your country. Does it have significance to you?"

"Eh, it’s some story about a warthog and a meerkat coming together to raise a lost cub they found."

"Really." Trey's eyebrows raised. "How did they manage to feed a baby lion? They probably need a lot of protein, and I don't think a warthog and a meerkat could hunt enough for it."

"Nah, they figured something out." He pinched his thumb and index finger together, peering through the small gap between them and right at the vice dorm leader. "Bugs."

"Bugs?!" Trey startled.

"Yup, there's plenty of 'm and they're packed full of protein for a growing young prince.”

“Prince?”

“Did I not mention it before? Turns out that the lion cub was a missing prince, and they had no idea. When the prince was all grown up, he returned to claim his kingdom with the warthog and the meerkat. The animals were able to get over their differences and live together in harmony. It all started with bugs—that’s pretty resourceful, isn’t it?”

"I didn’t think there would be a twist that wild from a story that started with eating bugs. We sometimes eat flowers in the Queendom, but usually as a garnish or for a snack, not for a whole meal. Is it a cultural difference...?"

Ruggie shrugged. "Sometimes you don't have much of a choice in what you eat. If life hands you lemons when you're starving, are you going to turn it down? 'Course not."

I can't afford that kind of luxury.

"Well, when you put it like that..." Trey gave a light laugh. "You're going to make me hungry too."

"I'd kill for a big roast pork right about now. Fat, sweet, and juicy, the meat so tender if falls off the bone once ya sink your teeth into it..." Ruggie drooled at the thought. "Yeah, if you just shoved an apple into the warthog's mouth, glaze it with honey, and slow cook it over a fire, I bet it'd be real tasty."

"It sounds like you’ve always got food on your mind.” Trey folded his arms, lips tugging back into a lopsided smirk. “Kinda gruesome when you talk about the prep work like that though.”

“We wouldn’t have any food if we didn’t hunt and gather. ‘S how the circle of life works.”

His gaze slanted toward the painting of the happy trio. A unification, food shared from the same platter—it sparked some desperate hope in him.

A world where kings and hyenas can be friends… Heh, maybe I’m asking for too much.

But he was greedy like that. Seeking more and more, his hunger never fully satisfied.

Ruggie shook his head, letting dirty blonde locks fall across his face. “Maybe it’s news to you, but beastmen don’t exactly see eye to eye with other beastmen. That’s why it’s practically a miracle that those three get along. It’s a tale they tell us in the Sunset Savanna to remind us of what we could be, united under one true kingdom. It’s just that: a story.”

“It’s a nice story,” Trey said simply. “And it would be even nicer if it came true.”

It would.

“It’ll be a looong time before that happens. It’s about as real as my dreams of a roast pork dinner.”

Ruggie sighed as he drew his arms up, hands resting behind his head. He reclined back in that lazy, devil-may-care pose.

Trey watched him, his mustard yellow eyes shifting slightly. “… Are you baiting me to offer to make you some?”

“What?” The hyena feigned shock. “Me, trying to get my hands on free grub? Nooooo, I’d never!”

Trey stared at him indignantly. “You’re not being very subtle there…”

Ruggie showed his teeth. “Was I supposed to be?”

“Maybe you’d have better luck getting a formal invite from Riddle first. I don’t usually prepare whole hams for a single guest either—it’s usually a group meal, so you’d have to share.”

“Tch. Whatever, can’t blame a hyena for testing out a shortcut, can you?”

“Ahahah… I’m slightly concerned that you’d even attempt to have an entire pig to yourself. Your appetite must be legendary.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

More and more—he wanted it all. Gluttony, a sin to the common man. To him, a desire for something greater than this.

He saw it now, a kingdom built upon the jagged cliffs. His kind and other scorned creatures. creeping out from the darkness and into the moonlight. They all looked to the one that stood far above them, the one that would lead them to that shining future.

Someday, it will come.

Ruggie spun, his back presented to the painting. A spotlight upon the trio, and the shadows closing in on his own face.

Even so, his smile was as big and as bright as ever.

“Nishishishishi! Don’t worry so much, Trey-kun~ Just be happy—hakuna matata!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #Ruggie Bucchi #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #something no one asked for #Trey Clover #Ruggie birthday takeover #spoilers #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios

[seokjinsonlyone]

this how i think bts would be if you were pregnant

namjoon:

he’s kind of clumsy and brutish by nature so he would try his absolute hardest to be quiet gentle and out of the way when it comes to you

reads to your baby every night once their hearing develops; goes through tons of children’s books and buys the ones that have all the messages and lessons he wants his child to learn so you now have a very large carefully curated library in the nursery

your pregnancy becomes his new j hope like he’s gonna mention it at every given opportunity whether it’s related to the topic at hand or not

comes back with a new baby item every time you send him to the store; you have to draw the line once he starts buying jars of baby food just bc they’re cute and little

not too keen on going into the whole birthing thing blind so he persuades you into taking lamaze classes with him

seokjin:

has one of them pregnancy apps downloaded and updates you each week on which fruit your baby is the size of

thinks it’s unfair how you get unlimited time with your baby and demands he get one on one time with them; makes you put on headphones and play music so he can spend time and talk with them without you intruding

puts himself in charge of your diet; looks up different ingredients that are supposed to be good for you and the baby and makes recipes centered around that; feels guilty bc every once in a while he cooks something that baby decides they do NOT like at ALL and it makes you sick

once your baby starts kicking he lets them make final decisions on things y’all can’t or don’t feel like deciding on; what shirt should he wear today? baby chooses. can’t choose a restaurant for dinner? baby chooses. accent color for the nursery? baby chooses.

tbh his favorite thing about you being pregnant is that when y’all go out he gets to park in the spaces that be up front for expecting mothers

yoongi:

when you get to be too much for him he always threatens that he’s gonna go to the store to “get milk”

all you’d have to do is give him a theme and a color scheme for the nursery and he’d take care of the rest; would give your baby the childhood room of your dreams

always 10 steps ahead in planning; like you’re trying to figure out if it’s acceptable go out with your jeans unbuttoned bc they is not fastening no matter how hard you try and he’s trying to figure out if y’all should move bc he likes the school that’s zoned for the neighborhood 5 blocks away

tries to act all nonchalant but every time he talks about you and your baby his hand ends up clutching his chest and he has this undeniably soft fond smile etched across his face

daily foot and back massages and belly rub downs with stretch mark cream

hoseok:

most likely to get on your nerves; like most of time he is rainbows and sunshine and the absolute light of your life; but he gon catch you on the wrong day, a day when you’re already in a bad mood and your back hurts and your feet are swollen and he’s gon be hopping around making sound effects and you’re gonna absolutely lose it; he’ll try not to take it personally but you’re gonna have to give him quite a few kisses and cuddles to make up for your raging

would be even more terrified than you if you ever fell; like after the shock's worn off and you're calm again he's definitely gonna make you go to the hospital just to make sure everything's okay even if you told him you felt fine

carries the sonogram in his wallet front and center in the space where his ID should be for easy access to show any and everyone who asks about how you’re doing

buys all kinds of designer things for your baby; you have to beg him to stop spending thousands of dollars on clothes and shoes that are only gonna fit for a month and a half at best

has more of a nesting phase than you i think; like nursery is fully completed, go bag is ready, baby’s clothes are washed and organized, all the little gadgets, diaper genies, bottle warmers, etc are set up and placement tested for maximum efficiency by month 6

jimin:

the type to be uncomfortable with you doing anything; like if it was up to him you’d be in bed the entire time; you have to remind him that you’re pregnant not dead but you take it easy and let him help you as much as possible to ease his nerves

thinks it’s cute when you start needing help to stand up; sometimes he’ll just sit back giggling and watch for a while as you try to get up on your own before stepping in and helping you; videos the experience nd shows it to his friends

goes to every one of your doctor’s appointment with a notebook full of questions about your’s and the baby’s health and writes all the answers down very meticulously

spends like 3 hours building the crib for the nursery; there’s so much grunting going on that you’re concerned HE might be going into labor; gets inside the crib after he’s finally finished building it to prove to you how sturdy it is; ends up taking a nap inside of it bc he didn’t realize how laborious it was gonna he

completely empathetic to your experience so he’s up when you’re up no matter how late it is; will literally get up at 4am to get you a bottle of water and make you a snack and rubs your shoulders and back until you can fall asleep again

taehyung:

his hand stays on your belly the whole 9 months; like you’ll be 6 weeks looking completely regular trying to keep it a Secret until you make it out your first trimester but everyone is suspicious bc taehyung will just come up and start rubbing your tummy whenever he sees you

tries on your nursing bra and would be walking around the house flipping the cover off showing you his nipples at odd times

starts picking out names immediately; at the end of the day he’s always gonna yield to you bc he wants you to be happy but he really really wants to name his child

plays so much classical music bc he heard it makes the baby smarter that you start to feel like you live in the 18th century

knows he isn’t the best at cooking but wants to be better for his baby so he spends like 2 weeks perfecting his baby formula bottle making method

jungkook:

doesn’t understand how anyone could have the type of cravings you have but his curiosity is too strong and he tries each of one them; finds the peanut butter covered pickles absolutely disgusting but rocks with the dessert pasta

starts calling you ms penguin bc of the way you waddle walk when your belly gets too big

lactation kink

would be deep diving on the internet researching various things about pregnancy and then spend the next 4 months trying to convince you to do a water birth bc he thinks it would be “cool”

sits bam down and has a conversation with him about how he’s gonna have a baby brother or sister and what’s gonna be expected of him when the time comes; it’s definitely more of a pep talk for him than the dog

a/n: me posting this is just as much of a surprise to me as it is to you anyway 🫣 thoughts comments concerns are welcome

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts headcanons #bts x reader #kim namjoon fic #namjoon x y/n #seokjin fic #jin x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #hoseok x reader #jhope fanfic #jimin fanfic #park jimin x you #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung x y/n #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic

[just-jordie-things]

valentines from jjk:

what valentines i think they would give you <3 happy love day everyone, don't forget to tell the people you care about that you care about them !! warnings: slightly suggestive in gojo + maki's parts

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

GOJO SATORU:

gojo is nothing short of extravagant. so expect a massive, expensive bouquet of your favorite flowers. if he's feeling particularly in the mood of love, he might try to serenade you (as if this huge bouquet he presented in front of everyone you know wasn't embarassing enough!! but it's the thought that counts, isn't it?) now just imagine how he's going to treat you when the two of you are alone

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

GETO SUGURU:

he's so romantic you're going to swoon and pass out- suguru drives you out to a nice field in the evening so you can watch the sunset, have a picnic complete with sweets and a bottle of wine, and then you can watch the stars come out and find as many constellations as you can. the possibility of you also watching the sunrise together is quite fair.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

NANAMI KENTO:

nanami is a massive romantic but others might not see what you do because he can be quite private... but that doesn't mean that the love he feels for you doesn't carve itself deep into his bones and very soul. he's going to cook for you and have you over for an intimate v-day dinner. (he's been dying to propose to you for a while, and the ring in his pocket is damn near burning a hole. but it would be too cheesy to propose to you on valentines day... wouldn't it? we'll see if he lasts through dinner)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

TAKUMA INO:

ino wants to go the traditional route of a beautiful bouquet for his beautiful girlfriend... but he knows you love a cute stuffy so he has to put a little twist on the classic gift to make sure his valentine stands out!! also... he asked you to be his valentine months in advance... sometime around november... but he has to make sure you're secured as his valentine!!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KAMO CHOSO:

he may be new to the concept of valentine's day, but when choso stumbles upon a pretty earring set, he remembers that yuji once told him girls never buy heart shaped jewelry for themselves- it has to be gifted to them. accepting this rule as law, choso doesn't hesitate to gift them to you so that you always have something from him to keep close... and maybe he likes the idea of other people knowing the romantic jewelry came from him, too.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI:

megumi is treating you to a new set for valentine's day. he might act indifferent when you come home from your nail appointments any other day... but he does love your pretty manicure, and he loves how excited you get for them, too. so as long as you promise to get a little 'm' painted next to the heart, it's his treat sweetheart.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ITADORI YUJI:

yuji is a mixtape bf through and through. he will spend ages putting together all the most romantic songs from his playlists to curate the perfect vibe for you. he'd probably decorate the case with the most poetic lyrics from the songs, too. anytime you hang out together and you pop this cd in, this boy will be over the moon with joy that you enjoy listening to the songs he picked for you. (will he have to also buy you a cd player so you can actually listen to it? yes.)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KUGISAKI NOBARA:

i love this one so much- nobara is going to take the time to make you so many valentine kisses with every single lipstick she owns!! that way even when you're apart you'll be able to take a kiss with you. (you're never apart for too long though, don't worry, you never have to miss the real thing for long)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

OKKOTSU YUUTA:

yuuta is proposing on valentine's day. it's HIS day and we all know it. hands down his favorite holiday, because he gets to spoil you and openly profess his love to you all day long without others laughing or dying from second hand embarassment? count him in. you're barely fifteen minutes into a romantic dinner date when you're receiving a heart shaped engagement ring. (expect a lovesick speech, this boy could go on for ages about his love for you, and he will if you don't stop him)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

INUMAKI TOGE:

he's lucky you love him, truly. toge is gonna shower you with ridiculous, cheesy valentine memes as soon as midnight hits and it's officially february 14th. and he WILL make it everyone's problem too, with all sorts of these valentine memes littered about for you to find. of course he'll treat you to dinner and a romantic comedy to cuddle up to later... but for now he's the valentine's day menace.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ZEN'IN MAKI:

don't expect to go out and enjoy any valentine's festivities like a cute cafe date with a heart shaped donut. unless ofc you count going out of town to a cheesy but secluded little love hotel. maki's not letting you out of her sights until the little set she bought you is no longer recognizable... or wearable. she loves to have her pretty girl all dressed up for her to open like a present <3

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#gojo satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader #takuma ino x reader #kamo choso x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #itadori yuji x reader #kugisaki nobara x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #inumaki toge x reader #zen'in maki x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #ino x reader #megumi x reader #yuji x reader #itadori x reader #nobara x reader #yuuta x reader #okkotsu x reader #inumaki x reader #toge x reader #maki x reader #gojo satoru imagine #nanami kento imagine #takuma ino imagine #itadori yuji imagine #fushiguro megumi imagine #choso imagine #kamo choso imagine

[drurrito]

Home

A/N: You're going to have to pry retired!avengers reader x Natasha au from my cold, dead hands. Anyway, I wanted to see if I could quickly churn out a little something before needing to focus my attention on this stupid MSJ memo.

From a drabble list: #34 - "The boxes are all labeled incorrectly."

Parings: Natasha x Reader

Warnings: time...and it's a little angsty ig but there's a happy ending.

----------------

You slice through the tape with ease and toss the box cutter to the side.

"Huh, so that's where I packed my boxing gear," you lift your gloves out of the box and set them aside. Moving has been anything but a breeze. Natasha finally pried your last remaining stubborn fingers that had a death grip on your life as an Avenger. Your retirement party was too-perfect. Even Fury was there to send you off. You hated it. Natasha knew from the jump you wanted to die an Avenger, not some washed-up hero that spent retirement trying to find anything to fill the bottomless void left from no longer being needed by the world anymore.

But you love Natasha much, much more than you hate not being an Avenger.

She tried to make it up to you, even picking a house that has a home theater and game room for your poker nights with Tony and the boys. Someplace by the beach while being close enough to the S.H.I.E.L.D. training facility so you can sleep in as long as possible before having to train recruits.

Your new life scares you much more than any bullet, bomb, or power-hungry warlord ever could.

You hear the front door open and keys drop onto the new marble counter that Natasha spent weeks curating. The familiar clicking of heels draws nearer. You feel your wife's nails drag across your back before her fingers dig into the knots between your shoulders.

"There you are," Natasha's voice is so gentle, it has been since your retirement party. She always knew what she wanted with you, and you never gave her reason to doubt you would meet her halfway. Retirement was the last step she needed you to take into this new chapter of your lives. Most people would have rather opted to watch paint dry, but she would have waited forever for you if you needed it.

"How's the unpacking going?" Natasha rests her head on top of yours, letting her arms drape around your neck. You instinctively lean back into her and take a few breaths. Among the most chaotic scenes, Natasha has always been your safe place to land.

"We're making some progress," you trail off, both of your eyes scanning the room that's littered in torn, sliced, and otherwise unopened boxes. You feel Natasha heave a loud sigh against your back. Her arms come up to your shoulders to give you a sympathetic squeeze.

"Wait, why are my dishes in your underwear box?"

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment to buy yourself some time, "because...the boxes are labelled incorrectly."

"And who was in charge of labelling the boxes?"

"I was," you try not to sound so deflated, Natasha's laugh echoes through the mostly empty house.

"Should've hired the recruits to do our dirty work," she smirks and pulls out her phone, "I'll get us take out."

You watch her rattle off your favorite order as she walks down a barren hallway. Maybe retirement won't be so bad after all.

#natasha romanoff #works #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader

[blue--ingenue]

Ominis Gaunt headcannons {Pt. 1}

Author's Note: hi loves! this is the first time i've written for Ominis Gaunt hehe. he's such a little guy™️ and i really enjoyed exploring his character a bit more. i'm going to start a taglist for this series as well, so let me know if you'd like to be added :)

you two aren’t particularly close at first, but that all changes after the events of the scriptorium. he has a difficult time trusting people (having survived his family’s atrocities), so when he meets you, a stranger leaving his most treasured safe space, he immediately shuts you out. after the scriptorium he decides to get to know you, and realizes he’s found a kindred spirit

he wants to give Noctua a proper burial, but he can’t move her remains to the family mausoleum without his parents finding out that he unlocked Salazar Slytherin’s scriptorium. (he won’t allow them to access the dark magic lying within. the last thing they need is more power.). you help him transport his aunt’s remains to a hilltop near the castle, the closest thing to home he has. you lay her to rest, conjure a simple headstone, and he just- breaks

all the terror, nerves, and stress of the last few days kept him wrought with tension, and this small mercy is what finally severs the strings holding him upright. he has no blood relatives left to lose, he can feel Anne slipping away, and he can feel Sebastian drifting farther and farther away in his desperation to save his twin. maybe it feels easier, then, crying into the shoulder of a near-stranger as he grieves the family he’s lost and those he’s currently losing

you walk to classes together, occasionally sit next to him at meals, and soon his presence becomes a constant in your life

he slowly lets his guard down as you grow closer. despite his posh exterior he’s perfectly capable of being a little shit (affectionate)

he doesn’t directly cuss, but his silver-tongued insults could rip anyone to shreds

he absolutely pretends to misplace his wand as an excuse to hold onto you. Sebastian sees through the ruse from a mile away, but bites his tongue

his hearing isn’t the only sense that can become painfully overstimulating. he learned early on that certain textures can be overwhelming (particularly scratchy wool, or too-tight dress shirts). you’ve gathered every type of clothing under the sun from the chests you’ve come across on your adventures, so you experiment with the different fabrics, finding ways to get Ominis to touch the fabric and cataloging each reaction. eventually you have a running list of his favorite and least-favorite textures. for christmas you buy him the softest, baggiest sweater from Gladrags. needless to say, he absolutely adores it

speaking of the sweater, he practically lives in it for the duration of Christmas break. it’s an incredibly endearing sight. the sleeves are loose and extend past his arms. the tip of his wand just barely pokes out from the end of his sleeve. when he sits to play piano, they pool gently around his wrists so that he can glide his hands across the keys unperturbed. you catch him asleep on the couch by the fire in the common room. he’s comfortably curled up, nestled into the neck of the sweater and tucking his hands into the sleeves to chase away the chill

likes downplay his fashion sense, but this boy knows exactly how good he looks in every curated outfit. it’s the one thing he’s grateful for learning from the Gaunt household

#ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x y/n #ominis gaunt x you #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort

[molly-ghuleh]

Ungrumpify Your Papa: Papa Emeritus II x afab!reader

Summary: It's your first holiday season with Secondo and you're determined to make him less of a grump.

Words: 6.9k (nice)

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI!!, reader is AFAB but there are no gendered words/pronouns, smut, fluff, lingerie, light dom!Secondo, teasing, brief mentions of overstimulation, holiday feelings, discussions of religion

AO3

A/N: Happy day 2 of the XXXMas at the Ministry series! Check out day 1 with Primo by @copias-sewer-rat in the links below, and stay tuned for day 3 with Terzo by @ghulehunknown and day 4 with Copia by @bupia (who also put together these incredible graphics)!!

Day 1 (Dec 20th): Naughty Presents (AO3)

Day 2 (Dec 21st): Ungrumpify Your Papa (you are here!)

Day 3 (Dec 22nd): Mistletoe'd (AO3)

Day 4 (Dec 23rd): Treasure Hunt (AO3)

Secondo is very particular about how he curates his living quarters. His taste is distinct and refined, but not to the point of tackiness. It’s obvious that he’d spent a non-trivial amount of time picking out his furniture after he became Papa, and even more time reorganizing his space to ensure you felt welcome after he’d asked you to move in with him. Every book, every pillow, every little trinket or decoration or memory has a dedicated place somewhere, and each piece is treasured and respected like it has belonged there for all of eternity. 

So, you weren’t surprised when Secondo grumbled when you pulled out a red and gold plaid throw blanket for the holidays, but he’s gracious enough to allow it to live on the couch (so long as it is neatly folded after every use, of course). And you had to stifle your laugh when he’d come home to find a little mistletoe hanging from the threshold of his bedroom and had jumped nearly ten feet in the air thinking it was a spider. 

He came to terms with the mistletoe, though, after realizing that every time he jumped when seeing it from his periphery, you’d come over and kiss him and remind him it was only temporary. He didn’t tell you that he’d let you keep the mistletoe up all year round if it gave him an excuse to kiss you more. 

The tree you want, though… that’s another battle. 

“Please?” You ask sweetly, snuggling with him under the aforementioned red and gold blanket. 

“No, amore,” Secondo says. 

You’re tracing gentle patterns into his bare chest and can feel his heartbeat under your fingertips. You watch as the soft, dark hair dusting his skin catches on your finger. “Explain to me your reasoning.” 

Secondo chuckles—a low, deep sound that you can feel more than hear. “Must I explain myself past the fact that I simply do not want a tree?” 

“But why?” You ask him. You lift yourself up onto an elbow and look down at him. The two of you had built a little nest of sorts in front of the fireplace in his sitting room. It’s the first night that the two of you, as well as the entire Abbey, are absolved from duties in a week-long observance of the solstice and Yule, and you had decided to spend it together, alone, and very naked. 

Secondo sighs but there’s still a little smile on his face. He can’t help but adore you and your insistence. It seems to him that you’re determined to uproot his entire life. He would gladly shed his roots and the soil of comfort and routine they grow in if it meant seeing you happy, but where is the fun in that? He enjoys making you ask for what you want. He enjoys seeing you work for it. And, in some (most) instances, he enjoys pushing you until you resort to begging.

“Because,” Secondo begins, drawing you back down to lay your head on his warm chest, “there is no room for one. And we have nothing to put on it.” 

You laugh. “This room alone is bigger than my old Sibling quarters. There’s plenty of space.” 

“It could catch on fire.” 

“Secondo, you don’t put a tree directly in front of the fireplace.” 

“Well. Suppose there is an ember—“ 

“And,” you playfully cut him off. “We can find things to decorate it with. Warm lights, those red, wooden beads for a garland, little glass ornaments… It can be classy. We can make it match your taste.” 

Your lover is silent for a moment, considering. “There would be pine needles everywhere.” 

You laugh again. His tone of voice tells you that you’re close to cracking him. Oh, you’re well aware of the games he plays with you and take full part in them. The push and pull, the give and take of him letting you believe you’re in control and then showing you that this was his plan all along… even with something as mundane as a holiday tree, your heart speeds up and your face heats just slightly. 

You’re still tired from the evening’s activities, after all. 

“We can get a fake one,” you offer. “Small, too. Nothing unmanageable. And I’ll string the lights on it because it’s a pain in the ass.” 

Secondo traces lines back and forth over your shoulder, tickling your skin. “You speak like the decision is already made, amore.”

“You haven’t given me a good enough reason to back down yet.”

He chuckles again. “Sto solo scherzando. Will it make you happy?” 

You prop yourself up again and press a kiss to his lips. “It will,” you say softly. “But I don’t need a tree to make me happy. If you really don’t want one, we won’t have one.” 

“You said it yourself,” Secondo says against your mouth, “that it is temporary. I will survive.” 

You feel his mouth curl into a small smile against your own when you kiss him again. You’re sure yours must feel the same. 

~~~

You and Secondo stroll leisurely through the rows of trees. The display is pretty, and nostalgic—it’s been staged to look like a small grove of real trees, with the stands cleverly hidden by piles of snow at the bases. Some of the trees are fully decorated, and some have only lights, but most are completely bare to emulate a tree farm. Somehow the staff had managed to make the display smell like pine and a hint of cinnamon, and if you close your eyes and listen to the winter breeze and the jingling of bells on the storefront door, it feels like a real tree farm. 

“You know,” you say to Secondo as you stop in front of a tree with fake snow on it, “you never told me why you didn’t want a tree.” 

Secondo regards the tree for a moment and, seeing how easily the fake snow flakes off of the limbs with just a slight breeze, gently tugs you towards the next one. “It is not necessarily the tree that I am opposed to,” he says. “But the commercialization of what is supposed to be a holiday.” 

You’re silent for a moment as you think about his words. He does have a point. There are a fair few seasonal decorations that you find to be unbearably tacky, but the ones you do enjoy carry a warm nostalgia. “I see,” you muse. “For a while after I converted, it was hard to rationalize the holiday because it’s so ingrained in our culture to be a Jesus thing.” 

“Esattamente,” Secondo nods. “Even though most of it is taken straight from Pagan traditions.” 

You stop in front of a plain tree, not any taller than Secondo, with simple, warm white lights. “That helped me rationalize it,” you tell him. “To know that modern Christmas is an amalgam of different things, and that there’s no right way to celebrate it. It doesn’t make us bad Satanists because we have a tree, or bake cookies, or wrap gifts. There doesn’t have to be any religious undertone.” 

“You are right,” Secondo says after a brief silence. “What is that term… when people use a word incorrectly enough times that the meaning changes.” 

“Colloquialism?” you offer. 

“SÌ. Christmas has become a colloquialism. Yule, Solstice, Saturnalia, Christmas, whatever you wish to call it.” 

“Is that why you never celebrated?” 

Secondo looks at you, and he nearly loses his breath. The sun is going down so the sky is a deep blue, leaving your face to be illuminated only by the warm white lights of the tree in front of you. You look so cozy in your hat and scarf and coat. And you’re trying to understand him, understand why he is not a ‘holiday’ person. How he adores you. 

“To a degree,” he says, looking away because he’s dangerously close to swooping you into his arms and kissing you silly. “The holiday has lost all its meaning beyond materialism. That is the way it seems. Why should I need a holiday to tell me when to gift things to the people who matter?” 

“You don’t, I suppose,” you shrug. “But it’s not completely about that. It’s the thought, the warmth, the togetherness. This time of year is when people want to feel cozy and comfortable and happy. To surround themselves with the people and things they love. It’s cold, and dark, and the holiday allows us to indulge in the things we might feel guilty about at any other time of year.” 

Secondo listens to your voice, and he understands. “I feel a bit like Scrooge,” he says softly. And he does—a bitter old man, learning the true meaning of Christmas… or something.

“Which ghost am I?” You ask, laughing. 

“You are Tiny Tim,” he replies without having to think. “Not a ghost, but I think the wisest character in the whole story.” 

“Satan bless us,” you say in your best impression of a small child. “Every one.” 

In the end, Secondo chooses the tree you’d been standing in front of. He tells you that it was because he likes that it’s small and simple (which is true), but he’d seen how your eyes reflected the small bulbs and decided he couldn’t let that evening be the last time he sees that. 

You also purchase simple glass bulbs, a modest tree skirt, and a silver garland to match Secondo’s green and silver color scheme in his chambers. When you arrive back at the Abbey excited to decorate, however, you remember that you’d forgotten to choose a topper. While he has his back turned to pour the two of you some hot chocolate, you sneak to the closet which houses his papal robes, and when he turns around, he finds his mitre situated crookedly atop the tree and your smug face pretending you don’t know how it got there. 

“It is lopsided,” Secondo hums, handing you your mug. 

“It has character,” you counter. You hide your smile behind the steaming hot chocolate. 

Secondo smiles, too. 

~~~

After the tree debacle, you wonder how far into the holiday spirit you can drag Secondo. You aren’t determined to make him the embodiment of Santa Claus, but you hope to ease his grumpiness. And honestly, it isn’t just the holiday that you want him to enjoy, it’s the whole season. Winter is cold and dark and oftentimes miserable, yes, but it doesn’t have to be. Not when you have someone to come home to after years of spending it alone. 

So you suggest cookies. Because I love sugar cookies, you explain when Secondo asks. And Copia has a sweet tooth. And we need something to bring to dinner with your family. 

Not at all because watching Secondo in the kitchen gets you going like nothing else. 

You sit at the small table in his kitchen, watching him move. He’d shooed you out of the way after scolding you for suggesting you use a premade mixture of Betty Crocker sugar cookies, insisting that if you must make cookies, you will at least do it right. But how can you stay away from him when he looks like that? 

He’s wearing his apron (which is, in and of itself, an incredible turn-on). The sleeves of his button-up shirt are rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his muscular forearms. And his hands, oh, his hands, are bare and flexing, kneading the dough as he mixes flour in pinch by pinch. The veins in his arms are highlighted in the overhead kitchen lights. His shoulders stretch and move, pulling the fabric of his shirt tight against his back again and again. 

Sweet Satan, give me strength, you think. And Satan, ever the purveyor of sin and temptation, strips all the strength from your mind and whispers in your ear to go to him. 

So you do. You quietly slip out of your chair and approach Secondo, taking in his perfect form. His broad shoulders, the slight pooch to his sides, his ass which is hugged so perfectly in his trousers, his hands kneading the dough ball like they knead the flesh of your thighs, your chest, your belly, your rear. Your hands slip around his middle and you press yourself against his back. You feel him pause. 

“Amore,” Secondo says softly and you’re not exactly convinced that he’s chiding you. “You are a terrible distraction. Come faccio a cuocere questi biscotti con te che mi tenta?” 

You trace your hands up his stomach to his chest, relishing in his warmth. There’s probably flour on your hands and forearms and all over his apron, but you don’t care. “Can you blame me? You know very well what watching you in the kitchen does.” 

“SÌ, I do, my dove,” Secondo hums. His hands are still now. He closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of your palms brushing up and down his body. Yes, he knows quite well what he’s doing to you. He’d be a liar if he said his insistence to bake the cookies from scratch was entirely innocent. But he supposes you know that. “Tell me, amore. If I were to turn around and lift you up onto this counter and spread your legs, what would I find, hm?”

Instead of answering him, you trail your hands back down from his chest, over his tummy, and down to the crux between his legs and pelvis, resting your palms there and squeezing lightly. You can already feel the stretching fabric of his trousers and know that if he turned around to make good on his promise, you would find him hard and aching. He heaves a trembling breath at your movements. It’s likely that he will punish you for this later, but is it really a punishment if it’s what you desire most? 

It’s not often that Secondo allows you to take control like this. Even if it’s just a small movement, a little caress of his arousal, he’s quick to pull your hands away and make sure you find your pleasure first. But slowly, his hands begin to work into the dough once more, and he makes no further comment. Your own hands find the button of his trousers and tug it open. 

“Amore,” Secondo hums in warning when your fingers brush along the length of him over the fabric of his pants.

In a stroke of confidence (and maybe a touch of curiosity as to what might happen if you poke the sleeping bear), you reach down his front to grasp him over his briefs. It’s only for a moment before you’re withdrawing your hand and fumbling his button closed again. You press a kiss between his shoulder blades and step away. “Sorry, love. Cookies take precedence.” 

Then, you’re pressed against the kitchen table, your wrists pinned beside your head as Secondo looms over you and presses his hips to your own. His breath is hot and his voice is low in your ear as he speaks. “You know very well that I would ravish you right now,” he growls, rutting his hips forward to spread your thighs even further. You can feel just how honest he’s being and you sigh with the contact. “If it were not for this dinner… this cena maledetta…”

There’s flour all over your clothes from his apron pressing against your front. The tip of his nose traces a path up from the sensitive skin below your ear, across your cheekbone, to rest against yours. His lips brush your own as he speaks. “Do not think I do not know what you are doing.” 

“I know you know,” you say, your voice sultry. You arch your back up off the tabletop and press your chest into his. “That’s why I do it.”

“Sei una tentazione,” Secondo whispers. “Perché devi essere così allettante quando non posso averti?”

Your jaw slacks open when he presses his hips even harder against yours. He takes the opportunity to lean in and nip at your lower lip, tracing his tongue along it and tugging. “One day,” you gasp when he pulls away, “I will understand when you say such filthy things to me in Italian.” 

“You tell me that not knowing is a thrill.”

“Oh, it is. But sometimes I wish I could understand what depraved things you’ll do.” 

“Let me put it plainly, then,” Secondo says. He takes the shell of your ear between his teeth and squeezes your wrists just a bit tighter. Your thighs lift as he presses himself against you completely. “We are going to make these cookies. We are going to Terzo’s dinner party. And we are going to stay for however long is acceptable before I take you back here and punish you for teasing me.”

“Yes, Papa.”

~~~

Oh, you hate him. 

Not for last night when he’d punished you, no. You very much do not hate him for that. You’d gone to bed with trembling legs after he had to help you to the shower. He compared you to a newborn deer but held you steady as you wobbled, and then gave you one last orgasm in the warm water before the two of you retired to bed. 

Rather, you hate him because he’d been waiting for a reason to punish you last night. He’d been searching for an excuse to make you fall off the edge of the world, more than a few times over, because he’d planned to take you and your wobbly legs surprise ice skating the next morning and thought it would be funny to watch you scramble.

“I hate you,” you grumble as you cling to his hand with a vice-like grip. “I hate you and your stupid memory.” 

Secondo laughs quietly and supports your weight. You almost lose balance when he leans down to speak lowly in your ear, but he keeps you upright. “I did not hear you saying that last night when I remembered where to touch to make you–”

“Alright, alright,” you interrupt, your face heating. “But last night I didn’t think I had to tell you to take it easy so I could stand upright today.”

“That is the fun of it, amore. Seeing you wobble, knowing I did this.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “How is your ass? Sore?” 

“From you spanking it or from falling on it four times?” You ask. 

“Either way,” Secondo stands up straight again, “I suppose the answer is the same.”

You huff. “I used to be able to do spins as a kid,” you tell him. “And now I can barely stand on skates because of you and your fingers and your tongue and your little Secondino.”

“He is not very little though, is he?” Secondo asks, and you could smack him if he wasn’t completely right. You’re wobbly because he’s not little in the slightest.

You’re grateful, though. You’d mentioned how you used to go ice skating as a child, and how you haven’t in a very long time. In previous relationships, that was that. You would mention something you miss, or an activity you used to love, and that would be the end of it. But with Secondo, dear, attentive, lovely, grumpy Secondo, it’s different. You feel heard for the first time in your life. And that might be terribly cheesy, but it’s true. He does more for you than the absolute bare minimum you’d grown to expect from partners and you feel positively spoiled. If you can give him even half of the happiness he gives you, you’re happy. You would give him the world and the sun and the moon if you could. 

Secondo notices your silence and squeezes your hand, warm and cozy in the gloves Terzo had gifted you at his dinner last night. “Where did you go, dove?” 

“Sorry,” you shake yourself from your reverie and blink away the sudden tears of gratitude and affection. “I just love you. Thank you for taking me skating.”

“You’re welcome. Anch’io ti amo.”

Eventually you find your sea legs and show him the (very basic) spins you know how to do. You manage not to fall on your ass a fifth time. And then you begin to seethe because, of course, Secondo is perfectly balanced and graceful and can skate like he was born on the ice. Your poised Papa is always so composed and you feel like, as he’d said, a newborn deer perpetually falling. 

You hate him, but that doesn’t stop the heat from building in your lower belly. Again.

~~~

The next day is the Ministry’s observed holiday. Most of the Abbey’s residents choose to spend it honoring the Olde One in sin with loved ones—eating, drinking, laughing, fucking. You and Secondo are no different, having celebrated the holiday with family and friends at Terzo’s dinner two days prior. 

That was the intention of hosting a dinner two days before the holiday. So that one might be able to honor Satan and the unholy observance without having to worry about family coming. 

You are absolutely not complaining. You spend the morning sleeping in, held in Secondo’s strong, warm embrace. When you wake, there’s no rush to get out of bed. He apologizes for your sore (and slightly fall-bruised) ass by rubbing and kneading it with gentle hands, pressing kisses down your spine with no sense of urgency or implication of more. You want there to be more, but you have something planned for later. 

You aren’t sure how long you’ll be able to wait for later to arrive. 

In the weeks leading up to the holiday, he’d told you not to worry about finding a gift for him. He said that you are enough, that spending time with you and just seeing you is enough of a gift. That you’d somehow managed to soothe the harshness in his soul. In his Secondo way of saying those things, which is less sappy. But you know that the sap was there, so you found a gift for him anyway.

The gift, of course, is something practical and utilitarian. Fit for Secondo’s taste but not something he already has. Something you know for a fact he’ll enjoy. 

That’s the list of things you’d written in your head when debating whether or not to buy the expensive, green satin lingerie with silver buckles. And of course, you needed a robe to hide it with so he can unwrap his gift. 

Although neither of you want to get up from the cozy cocoon of bedsheets you’re tangled in, your stomach begins to growl for breakfast. 

“Hungry?” Secondo asks from where his face is nestled against your neck. 

“Very,” you say, and make no move to get up. Neither does he. 

Your stomach growls again. 

“Hush,” Secondo says softly. “I am comfortable.”

After the third growl, you laugh, and Secondo pushes himself off of you to sit upright. “Coffee?” 

“Please,” you nod. 

When Secondo stands to walk into the kitchen, shirtless and practically glowing in the morning sun coming through the windows, you decide that later can come whenever you like. He can spend all day and night unwrapping his gift over and over and over if he wishes to. You can’t bear to wait. 

You slip away with the box containing your robe and underthings and lock yourself in the bathroom. It takes you a few tries to align the straps correctly so you can slip your head and arms through where they’re supposed to go, but the lower portion is more straightforward. The set is simple once it’s situated correctly. There’s a strip of fabric leading up the middle of your chest and around your neck, clasped at the front with a silver buckle, not entirely unlike a collar. The thin straps accentuate your chest and shoulders while still leaving most of your skin exposed for Secondo to leave marks on. The bottoms are strappy as well, with an attached garter belt secured with two silver buckles matching the one on your neck. Observing yourself in the mirror, you feel powerful. You know exactly what this will do to Secondo, and do for him. You feel powerful in the knowledge that you are about to allow him to overpower you. 

You only hope the lingerie doesn’t get ripped in the process. 

You slip the robe over your shoulders and close it, offering only a peek of the fabric around your neck, and fix your bedhead before exiting the bathroom. You stride into the kitchen like absolutely nothing has changed and find Secondo, gathering ingredients for breakfast and still shirtless. If you hadn’t changed into the set you’re wearing already then you would turn tail and do it now. 

But, you steel yourself and enter the kitchen, making a beeline for your favorite mug which he’d filled with coffee. “Thank you, love,” you say softly. You lean against the counter and take a sip. It’s delicious but you couldn’t care less about the coffee right now. 

“Amore,” Secondo says lowly once he catches a glimpse of your new robe and the fabric peeking out underneath. “What is this?”

He raises his finger to trace along the strip of fabric running down your chest until it disappears under the robe. “You said not to get anything for you,” you tell him, trying to act like the simple touch isn’t burning your skin. “But, did you really expect me not to?”

“Sathanas, you are sent to me by the Devil himself,” Secondo groans. He takes your mug of coffee from you and places it on the counter. “How must I wait until we have eaten when you…” 

You gently take his other hand and intertwine your fingers. It’s not often that Secondo has no words. Your heart pounds in your chest and you’re sure he can feel it beneath his fingertips. “Don’t wait, then,” you say. 

Slowly, Secondo traces his hand down your chest, over your sternum and towards your navel where your robe is tied closed. He pulls on the end and the robe falls open, revealing the set of lingerie adorning your skin. You feel his hot, shaky breath fan across your face as he takes in the sight of you. As if in reverence, he gently pushes the robe off your shoulders. It falls at your heels and you’re left bare in front of him, skin hot yet somehow covered in goosebumps. “Sathanas,” he curses again, thanking his maker for you. 

Secondo places his hands on your waist and draws you towards him. Your own hands rise to his chest and you find that his heart is beating just as quickly as yours. Your lips meet somewhere in the middle, warm and desperate and passionate. He kisses you like it’s the last time, but also like you’re made of glass. Like he wants to ravage you and worship you at the same time but can’t decide. His tongue licks into your mouth, tracing your bottom lip. He tastes like coffee and Secondo. 

You nearly stumble when he begins to push you but you quickly understand his mission. His hands guide you out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom, walking you backwards while his lips never leave your own. “Sathanas,” he groans a third time. He can’t think of anything but you, the feel of you, the taste of you, the sight of you. The only word from his mouth is a prayer at your altar. 

Secondo guides you until the backs of your legs hit the mattress, and then he lifts you onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator taunting his prey. Your thighs part on instinct to welcome his body between them. The cool air of the room reaches your aching arousal and you realize that you’re already embarrassingly wet. 

His hands slide up and down your sides, to your hips, the tops of your thighs. He traces his fingers over the fabric of the garter belt, snapping the strap against your skin and smirking at the sound. “You are sin,” he growls as he leans down to latch his lips to your neck. “I need you.” 

“Take me,” you moan, and your voice comes out more desperate than you intend for it to, but you’re past the point of caring. You want him to know that you need him, too. “Please, Papa. I’m yours.”

Secondo’s mouth trails down your chest, leaving wet kisses and little marks as you’d predicted (and hoped). He finds the hard peak of your nipple through the thin satin and lathes his tongue over it, eliciting another moan from your lips. “Say it again for me, amore. Tell me who you belong to.” 

“You, Papa,” you breathe as his teeth gently bite down on your covered nipple. “I belong to you. Only you.” 

“Guisto. You are mine and mine alone.” 

His mouth moves to your other nipple and, as if to accentuate his statement, he gives it a harder nip. You gasp at the sensation and arch your back into his mouth. “Papa…”

“Hm?” Secondo hums, and the vibrations make you moan once more. “What is it, tesoro?”

You know very well that he knows what you want, but you also know that he wants to hear you say it. “Please, your mouth,” you gasp. Your hands clutch at his shoulders and give an almost imperceptible push downwards. “I want your mouth, Papa, please.”

Secondo licks a path down your midsection. “Già così disperato per me,” he mumbles against the skin just above the garter belt. His lips blaze a path along the strip of fabric, and for the first time you wish it was gone. You’ve had your fill, he’s seen it all, and seen you in it. It can go away now. But, he takes mercy on you, and kisses his way to your pubic mound, also covered by the cursed fabric.��

“Oh, amore, you are already dripping for me. I wonder if I can make you cum without taking these off, sì? They are already ruined, what is a little more?”

Secondo places a light kiss over your wetness through the fabric and your hips twitch upwards. Immediately his hands wrap around your thighs and grasp your hips, stilling you. “None of that,” he chides you, and repeats the kiss. You bite your lip to stifle your noises. That earns you a light slap on the outside of your thigh, and you gasp. “None of that either. I want to hear you.”

He licks a broad stripe up the entire length of your slit, humming as he does. Your hips twitch again but they can’t move in his firm grip. Your hands grip the bedsheets as you gasp. “Papa!”

You’re already so worked up that you feel your orgasm beginning to build in your lower belly. His tongue traces slow circles around your clit, sometimes dipping to press at your entrance but never straying for long. The fabric is practically plastered to the form of your core, but it’s not quite enough. It’s thin but it dampens the sensations of his mouth against your flesh just enough for your orgasm to elude you. 

“P-Papa, please,” you pant. Your hand finds the back of his head to press him harder to you, but it’s still not enough. “Please, I need more. I’m so close, please…”

“Look at me, dove,” Secondo commands, and you obey. His cheeks are flushed and you can just barely see the shine of your wetness on the tip of his nose. “Look at me as I help you cum.”

He snakes one hand back towards your entrance and lightly presses there, then slowly works his middle finger under the fabric to dip into you. It’s frustratingly shallow, just to the first knuckle, but he knows you’re most sensitive there. His tongue flicks faster on your clit, still covered by the satin yet completely drenched, and you cum. “Papa!” 

Your entrance clenches rhythmically around the tip of his finger. He growls and shoves the crotch of your panties to the side, latching his lips around your clit and sucking just as he pushes his finger deep into you. He finds the spot only he knows exists and you see stars as your first orgasm gives way to another, more powerful climax. You tumble down the side of a mountain of pleasure on his tongue and scream. 

Secondo works you through the intense pleasure until the aftershocks roll pleasantly up and down your limbs, and your hips twitch up from oversensitivity. He pulls away and licks his lips. “Perfezione,” he says softly, crawling back up your body until he can kiss you properly. “Così perfetto per me. Così forte quando mi vieni sulla lingua.” 

You can taste yourself on his tongue. His hands softly stroke up and down your thighs, easing the trembling there. You sling your arms around his shoulders and pull him down so that his chest rests against yours. “Do you like your gift?” you ask when you’ve finally caught your breath again. 

“Sempre,” Secondo hums. “Every time I touch you is a gift, amore.”

You lean up to kiss him again, because you don’t want to sully the heat and passion between you by crying at his sudden tenderness. “Let me make you feel good, too,” you whisper against his mouth. 

When your hands begin to wander downwards, Secondo rises onto his knees and grasps your wrists firmly. The position mirrors the one you’d found yourself in two days prior, after the cookie incident, and your core clenches around nothing. “All I want is to be inside you,” Secondo growls. The tenderness is replaced by a fiery passion behind his eyes, and his grip on your wrists leaves no room for debate on who is in charge now. You’ve ensnared him with your gift, now he gets to unwrap it. 

“Please,” you whimper. “Please, Papa.” 

Secondo hastily pulls his sleep pants off and his cock bounces up against his lower stomach. You wish so desperately that you could touch him, trace the trail of dark hair from his chest all the way down to the base of him, but he still has your hands beside your head. “Stay just like this for me, sì?” he asks, but you know it’s not a question and you nod. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your ruined underwear and tugs. “Up.”

You lift your hips and he slides the soaked fabric down your legs and tosses it aside. Your hands, now unrestrained, itch to touch him. “Can I touch you?” you ask, your voice breathy and desperate. You’re hoping he allows it, because if he really didn’t want you to move, there are cuffs in his bedside table that he could have easily used to hold your arms above your head. 

“Not yet, amore. You are doing so well for me.”

You whine, but stay still. Secondo parts your thighs again and slots himself between them. The tip of his cock brushes against your swollen clit and you gasp, rutting your hips upward to seek more. But he doesn’t enter you, not yet. You know what he’s waiting for. 

“Please, Papa,” you say, canting your hips upward once more to accentuate your words. “I want to feel you, please.” 

“Bene,” Secondo hums. “Così buono per me.”

Secondo positions the head of his cock at your entrance, and pushes in slowly. Your back bows off the mattress and you sigh. “Oh, thank you, thank you…”

Inch by thick, delicious inch, Secondo enters you until your hips press together and you can feel the tip of him nudging at your cervix. When he’s fully inside you, he pauses, giving you time to breathe and adjust to his size. You hold his gaze as he strokes your thighs, soothing you, urging you to relax around him. “You may touch me,” he says. 

You bring your hands to the skin below his navel to trace along the strip of hair. Usually you like to kiss your way down, leaving little love bites along his happy trail, but both of you had been so desperate for this closeness that you couldn’t prolong the process. His muscles jump and twitch under your light touches. Slowly, you slide your palms up to rest on the sides of his neck and draw him down to kiss you. The shift in angle makes his cock move inside you and he brushes against the spot his middle finger had found just minutes ago, making you clench around him. He groans into your mouth at the sensation. 

“Are we going ice skating again tomorrow?” You ask. 

Secondo huffs a laugh. “No, amore. I plan to make your legs wobble without having to worry about a sore ass.”

You laugh with him and kiss him once more, then roll your hips against his. “Good.” 

He grips you by the hips and begins to thrust shallowly in and out of you. The drag of his cock is divine inside you, and yes, your legs will very much be wobbling tomorrow because you intend to spend all day like this and it is barely breakfast. Your head falls down against the mattress and exposes your neck, yet devoid of marks, to Secondo. And who is he to pass up an opportunity like that?

His lips descend on your pulse point just as he increases his pace. This angle again makes his cock brush against the tender spot on your inner walls and it rips a moan from your throat. 

“Sì, amore, let me hear you. Let me hear how I make you feel.” 

“Ah, it’s so—so good, Papa, you feel so good inside me—”

Secondo increases his speed again. His teeth gently dig into the skin of your neck and you clench around him, making him growl into your ear. “My little devil,” he rasps. “Who do you belong to? Tell me again.”

“You, Papa! I’m yours!” 

“Yes—ah, yes, you are mine. Only mine. Only I can take you like this, capisci? O-only I can make you feel this pleasure.” 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you register that Secondo is being particularly vocal this time. His eyes never stray from yours, but his hands are everywhere—your hips, your thighs, your stomach, your chest. His fingers briefly dip into your mouth and you willingly accept them, lathing your tongue over them and tasting the remnants of your juices on his skin. His hips snap against your own, over and over and over, increasing in pace until you bounce back and forth on his cock in time with his thrusts. 

With the fingers now covered in your saliva, Secondo brings his fingers directly to your oversensitive clit. Your hands clench onto any part of him you can reach, your fingernails scratching his skin and leaving red trails raised in their wake. You aren’t sure if you’re screaming or completely silent with the overwhelming pleasure. But your eyes feel magnetized to his own, like if you were to look away, the spell would break and the pleasure that’s building between you would dissipate entirely. 

“P-Papa,” You gasp, breathless. “I–I’m—”

“Sì, amore mio. Cum around my cock. Cum for me.” 

His desperate, almost animalistic command, paired with his fingers abusing your clit and his cock splitting you open so perfectly, send you hurtling over the edge of your climax and your vision goes white. Your entire being, your entire consciousness is centered between your legs and wherever he touches. The rest of you falls away into bliss as Secondo thrusts into you through your orgasm. 

You’re still riding the tidal waves of pleasure when Secondo finds his own release, spilling inside you and slowing his thrusts until eventually he stills against you. As your awareness fades back in and your orgasm ebbs away, you realize that your legs are trembling, but so are his. Your chests heave together as you catch your breath. You relish in the warm weight of him on top of you and inside of you, tracing your fingertips up and down his spine. 

When he manages to steady himself enough to hold his weight on his arms, Secondo pushes himself up just enough so he can plant soft, tender kisses against your lips. “Amore mio,” he mumbles reverently, “Sei la luce della mia vita.” 

“I love you,” you respond just as softly. Though you don’t (yet) understand what he said, you can feel the weight of his words in your heart. He isn’t the type to deliver flowery speeches or long-winded declarations of love, but you know he feels it for you, as you do for him. The two of you don’t need words. It shines through the string lights on the tree in the living room. It wafts through the air on the scent of freshly baked sugar cookies. It follows you in the sound of skates sliding in tandem atop the frozen lake, and in the pleasured cries echoing in the walls of the bedroom. 

Your stomach growls, and you feel the rumble of Secondo’s laugh deep in your chest.

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

Translations:

Amore - love

Sto solo scherzando - I'm only joking

Esattamente - exactly

Come faccio a cuocere questi biscotti con te che mi tenta? - How am I supposed to bake these cookies with you tempting me?

cena maledetta - cursed dinner

Sei una tentazione...Perché devi essere così allettante quando non posso averti? - You are a temptation...why must you be so tempting when I cannot have you?

Anch’io ti amo - I love you too

Giusto - Right

Tesoro - treasure, sweetheart

Già così disperato per me - Always so desperate for me

Perfezione - Perfection

Così perfetto per me. Così forte quando mi vieni sulla lingua - So perfect for me. So loud when you cum on my tongue

Sempre - always

Così buono per me - So good for me

Capisci - Understood

Sei la luce della mia vita - You are the light of my life

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

Taglist (from my Camellia fic, I hope that's okay!): @bonelessghoul @gbatesx @the-did-i-ask @leah-halliwell92 @archive-obsess @rosacrose @sodoswitchimage @portaltothevoid @lightbluuestars @thesoundresoundsecho @stephnthangss @enchantedbunny @jackson5611-blog @copiasprincipessa @kadedoesthings @justheretoreadleavemealone @tiedyedghoulette @honimello @deetz-ghuleh @da-rulah @nijiru

#xxxmasattheministry #merryghostmas #merryghostmas2023 #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus ii #secondo #secondo emeritus #papa secondo #secondo smut #secondo x reader #papa emeritus smut #papa secondo x reader #secondo x afab!reader #ghost band smut

[f-t-e]

I started watching SUPERNATURAL in November 2020. I know, I know. My partner and I had been isolating alone since March. The timing felt right. I went though a wild amount of upheaval and trauma over the next year and SPN was there for me through it all. It was THE show at THE time and it kept me afloat when I needed it the most. Since November 2021 I've written just about 110,000 words of SPN fanfic, a number that seems unbelievable to me, and that too has been a real blessing to my creative life, no matter what haters say. (why didn't I write my own novels in that time? Because I have a hobby, Karen, and I love it.) And I've read about 500000x that much fanfic, which has been the biggest blessing of all. (ETA: oh right, if you want to read my fic, you can find my stuff here, I wrote a fic where Dean reads books. Lots of books.)

I know I'm a nobody in this fandom but I thought on this, our #DestielDay, I would submit my own humble rec list. I've curated this very deliberately: every fic here has just about 4000 hits or less (most under 3000) and all were published in 2020 or after. So, sort of a rec list for some lesser known and newer fics, something you maybe haven't stumbled on yet. Especially thank you to @jewishcharliebradbury, her rec lists gave me a place to start back in the day and I have tried to model the depth and quality they brought to their lists. I tried to link to everyone's tumblr, but if I missed one, let me know.

Most of all, thank you to everyone who has EVER created something for this fandom, from 2005 to 2023. I am so thankful and, honestly, honored to be among your number. You're not supposed to be cringe and say a show saved your life...but SUPERNATURAL saved me, it really did. See y'all when the movie/reboot drops, to quote Ryan Gosling in The Notebook: IT WASN'T OVER, IT STILL ISN'T OVER. And I'm glad.

-----

Finale Fix-It & S15 and Beyond

What The Moon Was Saying by Amiril (@runawaymarbles)

This is hands-down one of the coolest “Dean Rescues Cas from the Empty” fics I have ever read and the concept is brilliantly structured to mirror the literal and metaphorical things Dean needs to give up and let go to get free. Every scenario is very satisfying and they make sense, is there any better feeling? Dean is very open in this, but in a believable way that still has edges. And, oh, the reunion is so good. Plus all the family stuff. Just excellent, exactly what you want in a fic like this: lovely, well-written, smart, fulfilling, all the pieces clicking, the show but better.

Awake and Annoying by skycruise

I love the use and passage of time in this one, it has some real impact, and I love the way Dean gets into the Empty (so smart, fits just right) and what I REALLY love in this one is the way it lets Dean be really clear-eyed and honest about his relationship with Sam, both the strengths and the weaknesses. And the last line, very clever and moving inverse of one of fandom’s favorite things. 

Living the life you chose by allthismusic

THEEEEE post finale Sam Winchester-Outsider-POV this fandom needs. Sam is absolutely awesome in this, the most believable, loving, realistic mix of “I knew all along” and “I had no idea” versions of Sam, landing somewhere I think that’s really true and in character. It fills in and develops so many gaps and silences in what the show let Sam know in the absolute best way. Best Brother Sam is a weakness of mine and he really shines here, there for Dean in the best ways but also coming into his own, I love it so very much. (this author also has a very great 2022 Big Bang fic, hugely recommend that one too.)

your ear to the wound that whispers by EmandFandems (@lazarusemma)

Who doesn’t love a HANDPRINT FIC?!? And boy this is such a good one. It follows Dean and his thoughts on the handprint from the first touch all the way to fixing the finale and it simply buzzes with longing and desire, tenderness and rawness. It’s great insight in lot of ways into Dean’s journey. It’s short but fulfilling and oh that very perfect last line. (this author also has a lot of great Jupernatural content.)  

Somewhere Off in the Dark by magickastiel 

Another awesome fic that traces Dean’s shifting/growing feelings for Cas from when he shows up in his hotel rooms to a HEA fix it after canon. Dean, again, is handled so deftly in this one, his confusion and sorrow at all the times Cas is slipping away from him all the way through the things he won’t let himself know. He feels really true in this one, sharp and tender in the best Dean ways. Also it has an agonizingly romantic end, you love to end up there.

Pins and Feathers by theskywasblue (@buttherewasnogod)

This author has so many freaking good SPN fics, omg it was almost impossible to pick just one to include on this list. Go treat yourself with their entire list because there’s so much good stuff there! But this one, oh I am a sucker for a finale fix-it that lets Dean be this tender. While I LOVE fics where he just jumps right into Cas’s arms (and write them lol) I also feel like this is so true to Dean too: that “maybe I misunderstood, maybe I shouldn’t say anything, maybe he doesn’t still –” And on top of all that, it’s a “they go the beach” fic and it gets the details of it so right, sand in your toes and all. Tender, amazing slow-burn, real, hot, full of heart and longing and everything unspoken and just waiting. Very satisfying!

i loved you first by kalmialatifolia

A set of four short fics that create an entire world of feeling and emotion. These feel like little whispered stories told under the covers, very atmospheric. There’s one very sexy one, a haircutting one (so good) and they’re just intimate. All together a great set and did I mention they’re in the “Cas saves himself” genre which is mmmm an underrated treasure.

no other faith is light enough for this place by anonymous 

A fix-it fic that has a particularly unique and beautiful visual of both how and why Cas comes back. The mechanics behind it are fairly standard but the way this author creates the visual of it, the sheer emotion and force behind it and how it happens, it really stood out to me and stuck with me. It’s Dean being brave enough to really feel and the way that just blossoms – lovely, aching, full-tilt wonderful.

 no proof, one touch by TakeThisWaltz (@watchinghimrakeleaves)

One thing I absolutely cannot get enough of is fic where Cas is hiding out from Dean in heaven. It just hits. And the only thing better is Dean chasing him down and the WAY he does it in this fic, methodically and – well the method (sobs) it is so endearing and OBVIOUS and gives Dean a chance to shout in all the best ways. This one is just real sweet and kind of goofy and if they have to be in heaven, I want them to still be these same two dorks.

Stay by redbrickrose

This is a post S15x18 from Cas’s POV and I think it’s very true to where he would be in the moment of getting yanked out of the Empty: resigned, hesitant about what he has in front of him, still a little in shock. And then. And then. Sweet and simple and Dean gets a chance to say, say, say it. This author has a good post series AU and a lovely little spate of S15 codas, all good. And then wrote this in real-time in the week after 15x18 Despair and right before 15x19 Inherit the Earth aired (could you just sob over the possibilities?!) and then hasn’t wrote anything since and that’s a shame but, like, yeah I get it.

like a one-two punch by Muir_Wolf (@muirmarie)

Don’t you love a short fic that feels like it’s a whole novel? This goes AU after 14x20 Moriah but it is a truly delightful twist on how Chuck could’ve reacted there and it makes Dean sharp as a knife, which is one really resonant image woven through this fic. Great imagery here and so many clever solutions for the lazy plotting of S15, including simply one of my all-time favorites in any fic ever solutions to Cas’s deal (genius) and getting rid of Chuck. Brilliant like a puzzle box yet still full of so much fucking joy.

maybe i like pleasure pain by tothewillofthepeople (@kvothes)

The fact that this was written in October 2023 and is so agonizingly good fills my heart with joy and tells me Destiel will never die lol. Cas, in particular, is great in this – he’s having a hard time adjusting to being in a body and with all the fuzz of the world. I love fics where Cas struggles with coming back from the Empty and this uses a really unique approach to it: Cas facing sensory overload and not knowing how to feel but wanting it all. Lovely, hot, Dean is just right in this too.

Earlier Canon (pre S15)

Proverbs 13:12 by starlingcas (@angelcasendgame)

Many might say I am biased because Renu has beta’ed everything I have written in the SPN fandom and they can read my brain and make everything I write better. But it’s not just that. Renu has done something beautiful and delicate in this fic, which is about Dean and Cas getting trapped in a net together (forced proximity trope, yes please) and weaves a web of its own; pulling you in just as they are pulled together. This is set mostly in early S14 (before fixing the finale in the most heart-healing way) and captures that feeling so well. There’s so much that’s unsaid between them yet still conveyed and Renu absolutely nails that, along with the tender longing that was always there. This is a fic to relish.

you may tire of me (as our december sun is setting) by deludedfantasy

You know how the show just sometimes is like “uh so anyway uh then Cas…uh…left.” and it just doesn’t make one lick of sense? FINALLY FINALLY a fic where Dean says “I’ll go with you,” and then goes because he actually would do that. This is a post Tombstone fic so it is exactly where/when he WOULD go and it is tender and hesitant and aching in just all the ways it would be between the two of them at this time. It’s about needing to keep someone in sight, it’s about having another chance to say something so important, it’s slow and soft and just right for the characters in this place. I could read this one about 100 times.

the anatomy of flightless birds by cowlovely (@dollhousemary)

This fic is basically the way you feel when you get all cozy and snug underneath your favorite blanket. This is a domestic-life-in-the Bunker S9 fic where everyone behaves like they are in character and not just like they have to get Cas off screen because the writers panicked. You’ll just want to curl up in this fic and savor it the way you wrap your fingers around a hot beverage on a very cold day, there’s no better way to describe it.

virtue by JenTheSweetie

I think I’ve read this about 100 times and it still gets me everytime? It’s a five things fic about Dean and Cas hooking up and it’s all you’ve ever wished for. This is set in an amorphous S8 and it is not just agonizingly hot but also romantic and very funny. It feels really in character! Sam is hilarious, Dean is clueless but bowled over and letting himself be swept up, Cas is delighting in every second and smarter than he lets on and it ALL feels fated and lovely and sexy and just splendid. (this author only has 3 SPN fics but they are all so good and if you try sometimes, well you just might find is an absolutely brilliant deconstruction of Dean learning the differences between “needing” and “wanting.”)

Romance at the Motel 6 by shelia_amour 

This fic makes me feel like Stefon from SNL. This fic has everything: Cas and Sam pretending to be married, just the right amount of jealous Dean, Dean randomly pretending to be married to Cas, Dean realizing maybe this isn’t so fake after all, motel vibes, Cas in Dean’s clothes, Cas getting bee slippers. If you are not sold on this already, we are very different people. So good, aches just right. (set in a kind of “whenever” of canon, but I like to put it somewhere in S8.)

que sera sera by Purple_Starflower (@hauntedpearl)

The epitome of how fanfic unfolds for us all the things that COULD happen. You can’t PROVE to me Dean and Cas never snuck off to snuggle and feed Dean’s touch-starvation early in S13. I had to check when I finished because I just couldn’t believe this fic was under 4000 words because it feels so full of touch, longing, the things unspoken, and all the ways Dean was reaching, reaching, reaching. The best kind of ache, and everything by this author is lovely. 

the hard edge that you’re settling for by lesspopped (@trekkiedean)

This is some S10 Demon!Dean that made my stomach hurt and my heart ache and I absolutely loved it and I absolutely hated it and it all felt so REAL with who Demon!Dean was and could have been. There’s a TW for mildly dubious consent in this, but to me, Cas was so agonizingly true to who he was/where he was at this point in canon too. This fic is gloriously, claustrophobically intimate. I say unbearable because as a reader you know that this closeness, this intimacy, is what Dean wants/craves/deserves but can only give himself as a demon and the author does an exquisite job at getting all that across. Hurts so good! 

four of swords by sundryvillians (eurythmix) (@perenial)

Can the world ever have enough post 12x12 fic? The answer is, of course, no. Dean and Cas bake bread and in the soft space of creating something with their own hands, get so close to the words Cas said. It’s about healing and anger and making something just because you are so tired of everything breaking. If that alone isn’t enough to convince you, let me also throw in this is another one of those “possible off-screen moments in canon” that gives them something honest and tender and raw and it feels so very possible. 

Fifteen Prayers From the Faithless by koyas_cat

Short, achy, that sweet sting. A set of prayers for Cas from the beginning to the end, full of all the things Dean doesn’t let himself say outloud and just reflecting the changes in their connection over alllll the years. So good.

#spn #spn fanfic #destiel fic #fic recs #destiel day #deancas fic recs #supernatural #destiel #happy anniversary #don't forget you're here forever

[scuderiasundays]

a promise is a promise

summary: sliding into a stranger's dm's, nostalgia for your first date, and a promise sealed with a kiss + a little insta au at the end 💙

words: 1,071

a/n: my first time writing for mr. leclerc! thank you for the req, @headinthecloudssblog 🫶🏼 tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @formulaforza, @thatsdemko, and @diorleclerc because i trust you all deeply. feedback is much appreciated as always. hugs and kisses!

Charles loved Adele and he sure wasn't shy about it. While the other racing drivers were hyping themselves up with rock, EDM, or rap, the Monegasque’s AirPods (which he often lost) were blaring “Someone Like You.” You, yourself, wondered how the powerful yet melancholy ballad could put him in the right headspace to drive at breathtaking speeds of up to 362 km/h. 

You were nothing short of euphoric when it was announced that she would be extending her exclusive residency in Las Vegas. It would be a dream come true if you could see her live during the weekend of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. However, a bitter reality crept in when you discovered the final show was scheduled for November 4, a mere two weeks before the two of you would arrive stateside. Charles would be racing at Interlagos, while you would be stuck at a clinical genetics conference in St Andrews.

“I was going to get us tickets to thank you for your service in the Great War!” You huffed as you watched Charles tie the laces of his Puma running shoes, visibly let down by the news. All of your friends thought the racing driver had used his F1 connections to get you those coveted floor seats, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. Your boyfriend had spent 18 hours in a virtual queue on one of his few days off, using multiple of his sim racing monitors to secure tickets to the Eras Tour. Arthur had mocked his older brother about how “whipped” he was, joking that he was relieved someone else’s screen time was as horrific as his own.

With a light kiss on your neck, Charles wrapped his arms around you from behind, his voice filled with affection. "It’s like this, ma chérie. I'm going for a run with Andrea," he whispered. As he headed towards the door, his shoulders slumped and his AirPods in, it became clear today's run would be more of a recovery run, a moment for him to recharge physically but more so emotionally.

Determined to bring Charles closer to his idol, you swiftly grabbed your phone from the kitchen island and opened Adele's Instagram profile. Sliding into someone's DMs had never been your style, let alone that of a Grammy-winning artist, but you figured there was nothing to lose.

"Hi, this is Y/N. I know it's unlikely that you'll ever see this, but I'm taking a leap of faith for my boyfriend Charles, who is undoubtedly your biggest fan. Our first date perfectly encapsulates his essence," you began typing, a wave of nostalgia washing over you. "He took me on the most gorgeous twilight yacht ride, accompanied by a meticulously curated playlist of his favorite songs. Upbeat songs like 'A Sky Full of Stars,' 'Pepas,' and 'Feel So Close' filled the air. But then, out of nowhere, a hauntingly beautiful piano melody began to play."

Pausing for a moment, a reminiscent smile graced your face as the memory came roaring back to life. "'Is this Adele?'" you had asked, a glass of rosé in your hand. Charles looked so at peace compared to the tense expression he sometimes wore during race weekends. He had offered you his blue Ferrari sweatshirt to ward off the evening chill and confirmed that it was indeed Adele. Charles shared that he, unlike most, found comfort in what he deemed “depressive music.”

Since that fateful evening, the British songstress' music had become an integral part of your relationship. It served as the soundtrack to your road trips, where you took turns belting ‘Rolling in the Deep.’ It sparked heated debates about whether Adele’s ‘Daydreamer’ or Sade’s ‘By Your Side’ should be your first dance song. It even led to late nights, downing espresso shots just so you could listen to her latest album the second it dropped.

You reached for your phone once again. "That night ended with Charles’ hand resting on my thigh as he drove me home to 'Make You Feel My Love.’ Your music has been the soundtrack to so many of our most intimate moments, and it would mean the world if you could find some time to perform for him," you typed, pouring your heart into the message. You added, "I know this is a long shot, but I..." before eagerly hitting the "Send" button. With a growing sense of accomplishment, you decided to run to the grocery store to pick up some fresh salmon for dinner.

Unable to keep a secret to save your life, you shared what you’d been up to with Charles. "You DM'd the queen? Je t'aime, ma belle, but I highly doubt she'll reply," he playfully teased, rolling his eyes as he wiped the dish you had just handed him.

"What if she does?" you retorted, a hint of hope in your voice. "You know how I treasure you so much I don’t even trust myself to take you on a hot lap? We’ll do it in Las Vegas if and only if Adele responds." His devilish Leclerc wink accompanied the mischievous remark, leaving you to wonder how this crazy turn of events would unfold.

Weeks passed, and with each passing day, the likelihood of a reply dwindled. Charles was away in Qatar when the doorbell unexpectedly rang. A courier stood before you, holding a grand bouquet of white roses along with a message card. Assuming it was from him, your hands trembled as you read the sign-off on the ivory white card. There it was, unmistakably etched in the most elegant script. Five letters. Adele.

You snatched the card eagerly and read it over countless times, overcome with disbelief. It turned out that Adele's devoted fan base had made her very much aware of Charles' fanboying. She expressed her delight and confirmed that she would be more than happy to sing a few songs for you over dinner so long as she could score some “cool mom points” and bring her son Angelo to the race.

Your hands trembled with sheer excitement as you shared the spectacular news with Charles. He blamed his nonexistent allergies as tears welled up in his eyes, but you saw right through his lies.

"So, you'll be taking me on that hot lap, Leclerc?" you grinned, blissed out seeing him so happy. "Bah oui, une promesse est une promesse," he replied, sealing his vow with a well-earned kiss.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, and 61,616 others

yourusername: weekends with adele (and charles) 🎰🍸❤️

fan1: “it’s true that, after a bad day, if you listen to that, you cry. you don’t feel any better. but i like it. i like the mood of depressive music.” - chuck leclerc

charles_leclerc: i have the best girlfriend in the world! tu est simplement la meilleure ❤️

adele: she’s one of a kind! thank you for letting me bear witness to your love x

yourusername: you, sir, are the love of my life. thanks for tolerating my impulsivity!

fan2: i need a charles and adele collab and i need it NOW 😤

joris_trouche: he’ll never shut up about this

charles_leclerc: prepare to be sick of me! wait, you and @andferrari007 already are 🫣

scuderiaferrari: c² music challenge but adele songs only?

carlossainz55: why play when i don’t even stand a chance 🤨

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc edit #charles leclerc #f1 x you #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc drabble

[winchesterdreamgirl88]

His Sunshine

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: Bad writing

Summary: Draco is a cold, dark, brooding person who forgot what it was like to smile or feel happy. But Y/n is the biggest ray of sunshine ever, she always has a smile on her face and is always trying to make people feel better. What happens when they are forced to work on a project together?

Word Count:513

A/n: I feel like I could've written this so much better but I just couldn't find the right words. I really like the grumpy boy and sunshine girl trope it's one of my favorites. I feel like Draco is very misunderstood and honestly isn't a bad person he just didn't have anyone supporting him or helping him. So most of my stories about him may be different than the movies but it's how I envision him.

3rd Person POV

Draco used to be a happy kid in his first year at Hogwarts, but as the years went by he became less and less happy. He was under so much pressure from his father to follow in his footsteps and become a Death Eater and serve his families purpose. He forgot what it was like to feel happiness and joy.

But Y/n on the other hand was the complete opposite, she always had a smile on her face and she radiated happiness. Unfazed by the world's harshness, Y/n exuded an infectious joy that seemed to dance in the air around her. Her whimsical demeanor and dreamy gaze were as captivating as they were mystifying. But surprisingly Draco didn't hate her, and he had every reason to. She was a muggle born and a Gryffindor, there is no reason Draco should feel the way he feels about her. But when he sees her smile he can't help but want to know the reason for her smile, and he wanted to be the reason she smiled like that.

2nd Person POV

One snowy day Draco had woken up just like every morning; sad and alone. He walked his way to potions with Snape, not prepared for what the day had in store for him. Draco walked into class and sat down at his normal table ignoring the useless boring chatter coming from Crabbe and Goyle.

"Alright everyone, I am going to assign you partners and you need to have this done by the end of the class." Everyone groaned and waited to hear who they were going to be forced to work with. Draco has managed to turn out Snape so he was surprised when you suddenly appear next to him.

"Don't worry, let's try and get this done as quick as we can so you can resume your role as the curator of crankiness." You said trying to get some sort of reaction from Draco. But he was facing away from you can not talking. Unbeknownst to you Draco's lips quirked into the tiniest smile.

As the next few days went by you and Draco continued to be partners and work together in potions. Over time, Y/n's infectious happiness became a balm to Draco's brooding soul. You taught him to appreciate the beauty in the smallest moments and find joy even in the darkest corners. Y/n, in turn, discovered a depth and resilience in Draco that others seldom saw.

As the days turned into weeks, Draco found himself smiling more often, his scowl replaced by a softer expression. Your relentless optimism had worked its magic on him. In a quiet moment beneath the starlit sky, Draco took your hand and admitted, "You're infuriatingly happy, y/l/n, but somehow, I find myself drawn to it."

And so, the grumpy Slytherin and the happy dreamer forged an unlikely connection, proving that sometimes, love blooms in the most unexpected places even between a ray of sunshine and a grumpy man who just needed someone to show him the sunshine.

#harry potter imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #tom felton

[paddockbunny]

B + Touch + Pierre Gasly

On Deck

Summary : When your boyfriend Pierre has a little time off he whisks you away to a gorgeous hotel…then surprises you further by helping you fulfil one of your dreams. Rating : 18+ Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Reader Word Count : 2,800 ONE SHOT Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult language, discussion of sex, intimate touching female, public sex Images : curated from Pintrest

List : List B. Prompt : Touch - our muses touching one another discreetly but intimately in a public setting.

Dating Pierre had many perks. From brands sending you free clothes to being invited to events like fashion shows and tennis matches. But your favourite perk of all was the complimentary holidays and hotel stays he was consistently offered. And while he had to turn many of them down because he was working, on the odd occasions he did accept, you were always his favourite room mate. So this unexpected trip to Sardinia in between races could most definitely be classed as a perk.

The pair of you arrived on the Tuesday to beautiful warm sunshine and every single last drop of tension melted away in both of your bodies. The oranges that lined the driveway to the stunning five star resort filled the air with a beautiful citrus aroma that you could get drunk off and you grasped your boyfriend’s hand tighter when you saw the welcome glasses of champagne awaiting you at the hotel entrance. Pierre loved watching you reactions to experiences only he had been able to give you. He got off somewhat knowing he could impress and dazzle you more than any man that had come before him. It thrilled him to see your eyes widen in awe or excitement rushing around your body at these new adventures he could provide you with. He was glad it was him making these memories with you. And you in turn always made sure to thank him, diligently, thoroughly and exactly how he liked.

For three days the pair of you spent your time rotating between sunbathing, eating and fucking. Pierre was in his element in all three and you were more than happy to do whatever it was he felt like doing just because you were happy to be with him.

On Friday, you awoke to an empty bed. Pierre’s voice was muffled outside on the balcony. You took the opportunity of being alone in the huge, comfortable hotel bed to stretch out like a cat. As your muscles pulled and twisted you felt the burn from your inner thighs. Last night’s energetic sex clearly still reverberating through your body. The smirk crept upon your lips without realising it the memory of your legs up around Pierre’s shoulders as he fucked you hard and deep. You were in your own little world when he re-entered the room and you heard his low rumbling laughter.

“What are you thinking about?” “You.” Your response was quick and his cocky eyebrow raise was met with an equally as confident smirk as your eyes travelled down his body. He was stood next to the bed clad only in his black tight boxers that left little to the imagination and your mouth practically watered thinking about him being in your mouth. You rolled on to your stomach and pulled yourself up on to your knees before crawling to close the space between you. You were still completely naked, the hotel sheets disregarded behind you, and Pierre took full advantage of his view. He didn’t hide the fact his eyes were roaming all over your body. He knew that you knew he enjoyed when you were so completely exposed to him. You watched him checking out your boobs first before those azure blue orbs fell lower and settled to his favourite place, between your legs. Your hands slowly caressing up his chest and around his neck was what brought him out of being transfixed. But what snapped him back into reality was you guiding his hand to where his eyes had just been. Your insinuation of morning sex couldn’t be any more obvious.

What you thought would be met with eager willingness was instead met with a frustrated sounding growl from your boyfriend. “Fuck. I want too, I really, really want too but I’ve just organised a surprise, baby.” He sighed. So that was what he was doing out on the balcony. “A surprise?” Your eyebrows met in the middle quizzically. “What kind of surprise?” He knew you weren’t a huge fan of surprises and were more of a preparer type person. You liked knowing what you were going to do, where you were going, what you were going to wear. Pierre smiled. His fingers ghosted over your delicate folds - a reminder his hand was intact exactly where you had let it too only moments before - as he slowly nodded.

“I’m not going to tell you what we’re doing. You just need a bikini.” You almost didn’t hear his words because your brain was completely distracted by the shudder that passed through you from the action of his fingers. And just because he liked to play with you, he raised his fingers to his mouth. He enclosed his mouth around them, no doubt tasting your wet slick excitement on them, and moaned deeply because he knew exactly how pent up it got you when he teased you.

“Where are we going?” You asked Pierre (threatening to go in a huff) for the fourth and final time as you got into the chauffeur driven Mercedes parked right in front of the hotel lobby. He had been tight lipped when you tried to coax his plans out of him right after he told you you needed a bikini. You tried hard to get the answer from him and even used dirty tactics by holding up two different styles in front of him - the first option was an impossibly tiny thong that l barely covered anything at all; while the second was an extreme high cut that left little to the imagination, it didn’t surprise you when he went for the first option - and when that didn’t work you pouted, lowered your chin so your eyes were as big as they got when you were about to blow him, and asked again. Nothing. The last attempt was when you got in the elevator and tried to trick him into admitting his plans but he wiggled his finger back and forth and told you; “Patience is a virtue, doll”

So there you sat in the back of the car, pretending you were cool with not knowing the plans while Pierre’s hand ran up and down your bare thigh. He pretended like he wasn’t deliberately trying to torture you by pushing the white cotton hem of your dress further up your thigh with each stroke, but you had his number. You deliberately ignored him and gazed out of the window. His grip got harder to make you look at him but you continued freezing him out.

“If you don’t look at me I’ll make the rest of this journey very uncomfortable for you.” He had leaned across the car and purred the line straight into your ear. His body press harshly against your side but you couldn’t ignore the fact his hand had slid up to cup your clothed core. Your mouth dropped open but your head rolled back and your eyes went straight to his. “Good girl.” Was amused that he got what he wanted. Proud of himself even. He sat back - his hand retreating - and playfully shook his head. He knew you were being bratty because he hadn’t told you what was going on and was smug that he still held onto his secret.

The car ride lasted only a short while. Fifteen or so minutes and you had began to twig around 20 seconds ago when the car pulled into the marina. “Did you?” It had been a bit of a dream of yours to go on a yacht one day. A proper yacht, a big one. You had been on small sail boats, catamarans, gondola’s and the motorboats they have in Lake Como but never an actual yacht. “Is this a good surprise?” He bit his bottom lip awaiting your response. It was the best surprise. You couldn’t believe he remembered you talking about going on the types of vessels you were passing by. You didn’t think he paid attention to thought all the Below Deck references you dropped whenever you were near the sea. “The best!” You exclaimed while practically leaping across the car and squishing your lips on to his. Pierre was a romantic at heart. He had an animalistic raw sexual energy sure but deep down, he was the biggest, sweetest sentimental teddy bear.

You finally pulled off your little white dress when Cassandra (your chief stew) disappeared to make the pair of you some cocktails to enjoy on the main deck aft while you sunbathed. Pierre, clad in his now signature orange swim trunks, was already laying out on the sun deck. Every toned muscle on full display. He had been watching you as you removed the practically see through white dress and toss it aside. You watched him swallow and rolled his eyes at your teeny tiny bikini - the one he himself had chosen for you to wear. “I’m going to have a semi all day now I’ve seen you in that.” He groaned into your ear when he pulled you down to join him once you took his outstretched hand. “I know you will.” You winked and playfully but your lip “Don’t pretend you didn’t know that when you chose this one. I did give you a choice.” He laughed because he knew he had stitched himself up. “At least give me something to day dream about while I sunbathe, babe.” His eyes lowered to your equally as small bikini top. He was a butt guy through and through but Pierre couldn’t resist your perfectly proportioned boobs either. You glanced quickly around making sure none of the crew would catch you (or prying eyes from another boat) and pulled down the cups of the black bikini quickly. You counted to five before covering yourself back up again and Pierre burst out laughing out of his enjoyment at your little flash.

You felt little beads of sweat form on your chest as you baked in the hot Italian sun. The salty sea air served as a delicious fan to cool your scorching skin. Your head fell to the side and you took in the visage of your unbelievable boyfriend. His skin was glistening with sweat. The scattering of hair on his chest gleamed with it like they were minuscule little crystals. His cut abs were mere fodder for the v shaped guidelines that disappeared below the stretchy band of his swim shorts. Your mouth watered. How could it not? You had been hot for him all day. From the moment you woke up with the dull ache between your thighs - and sore adductors being a reminder of how good the sex really was. You let an unsteady breath escape your throat as you continued down and drunk in the rest of him. He had one leg propped up, his muscly tanned thighs on full display, and you felt the desperation for him kick in. Swiftly you glanced around again and checked the pair of you were alone. Naughtiness consumed you. You felt possessed by your urges.

Leaning over him you kissed his lips gently. He wasn’t sleeping but hadn’t been expecting your action. Even if it was a welcome one all the same. Your body stayed where it was as your finger danced along the waistband containing what you craved. “Baby….” You purred as you kissed the spot under his ear you knew he liked “there’s no one here, they’re all below deck.” You weren’t sure if that was entirely true but you had seen enough reality tv to know they would disappear pretty quickly if they happened to stumble upon anything. Pierre lowered his sunglasses before asking; “Is my good girl feeling a little risqué?” His mother tongue delighting in the pronunciation of the last word. You nodded and you saw all of the dirty thoughts rushing around Pierre’s brain all at once. “Do you think you can stay quiet?” His hand wrapped itself around your wrist - the one resting on his lower tummy while your fingers played with his happy trail - and guided it away. It collided with the mattress of the sun deck behind you and the pressure Pierre applied made it hard for you to move. His body rolled half way on top of yours. “Well?” He asked wanting a vocal confirmation “do you think you can stay quiet?” Normally Pierre wanted to pull every single loud pant, moan, gasp and sigh from you before he made you scream so now he wanted the opposite it was overwhelmingly thrilling. “I can try.” His eyes narrowed “I promise.”

Your word was enough for him. His hand left your wrist and instead came to the valley between your boobs. His fingers trailed down with delicate lightness. You knew better than to let your eyes follow the direction of his hand. He liked eye contact above all else so you kept staring straight back at him. Your mouth opened and you fought back the sigh that was about to leave it when his fingers dipped past the black neoprene fabric that clothed you. “How long have you been this wet?” He as good as hissed at you. “Since I woke up thinking about the way you fucked me last night.” A shaky yet pleased laugh left your boyfriends own parted lips. His forefinger slipped up and down your throbbing folds and you instinctively opened your legs wider for him. He spread the product of your excitement over sensitive creases before he settled on the bundle of nerves that he was by now, best friends with. You couldn’t help but inhale deeply as he made quick work of circling your responsive bud and drawing more and more quick breaths from you. In a normal, less public, setting you would by now be heavy breathing, moaning his name and gripping hold of whatever your hand could find.

“Pierre….” You whimpered quietly, in a broken, breathy tone that was completely carnal. He stepped up the pace and your hands went to his neck, needing to hold on to something as he worked you closer and closer to your high. “You’re so beautiful when you’re this close.” His words caressed your lips before his tongue delved in. He knew you were close (he always knew) when your hips raised up off the daybed underneath you. Desperately seeking more friction, more pressure from his fingers - which of course he gave you without hesitation. “Fuck, Pierre…” the smallest of pleas left you as his mouth swallowed your words.

And then you had to remind yourself to open your eyes for him as he made you climax, hard and sudden. Your body tensed as the high aroused your soul. Shockwave after shockwave came in unrelenting waves like the ocean below the yacht. Pierre kept going, his pace only slightly slowing, to make sure you rode every last inch of the orgasm he graced you with and only when your thighs stopped shaking did he dip his fingers down to the wetness his actions had produced. You saw the pride and smugness overtake him as he felt what he had done to you.

Then without a single shred of warning his hand left your bikini bottoms and the elastic material snapped back against your skin. “Can I get you both another drink?” Cassandra’s Italian laced voice came from behind us. “We’re fine, thank you” Pierre answers for the both of you. You stayed exactly where you were, clinging to him almost, as he did so. A heat spread up upon your cheeks and you realised you were holding your breath. “She’s gone.” He said quickly before erupting into laughter

“Oh my God!” You yelped and buried your face in his neck. There was no option that to feel instantly mortified. The girl couldn’t have been older than you nor Pierre and she had innocently approached you both after you had been doing something so utterly obscene. “Did she see us? I was quiet wasn’t I?” “Shhh….Mon Amour” he kisses you gently “don’t worry, I’ll just tip them a little extra.” He winked when he pulled back and playfully you hit him on his chest for being so typically well, Pierre, about things. “I’ll tip them EVEN MORE if I can fuck you right here on the deck.” You knew he wasn’t joking but you laughed none the less. “Ok” Your words caught his attention “but first, let’s take a dip…” his reply came swiftly; “Fine, as long as it’s the skinny type”

#Pierre Gasly #Pierre Gasly imagine #pierre gasly imagines #pierre gasly fanfic #Pierre Gasly one shot #pierre gasly fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #Pierre Gasly x reader #Pierre Gasly x you #Pierre Gasly x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfiction

[keresnotceres]

TF 141: Civilian Lover

[sfw] cw(s): mentions of death/abduction.

sorry for leaving u guys hungry for like two weeks i have no excuse

Likely knew you before he was in the military, perhaps you were someone he went to school with or the two of you were coworkers at a part-time job. Otherwise, how you two managed to get close during his months away on deployment is a mystery.

Ghost keeps his life outside of work private, but you more so. He refused to tell anyone he had a partner until Price accidentally squeezed it out of him during a casual drink.

He worries about you more than you worry about him. He knows what he does, he knows there’s always the chance he won’t make it back to you. He’s only told you that he’s military, not that he goes on near suicide missions.

It likely takes him until a near-death experience, in which he truly thinks he’s not going to make it back to you, that he lets you know a bit more about his job. It’s not much, but he tells you who he works with and why his leaves aren’t as long as other military personnel may be.

Likes having dates at home. He doesn’t want to show you off in public in fear that being seen with him will get you killed or kidnapped to be used as leverage by an enemy. He likes watching movies he can relax during, such as shitty rom-coms, so that he can just admire you instead of having to pay attention to the movie.

Also loves cooking with you regardless of your skill level when it comes to cooking. It’s the level of intimacy that comes with trusting each other enough to be comfortable in the kitchen together that makes him melt a bit.

If you fell first, he absolutely fell harder. Is just absolutely smitten with you. Loves to dote on you and treat you like the most special person to ever exist. Will absolutely give you princess (or other equivalent) treatment just because he can.

Has like five pictures of you in his wallet and like five more hidden in his tactical gear. There’s no theme to them either, they’re just a collection of his favorite photos of you. There’s probably just so many in his room too.

Could probably be convinced to teach you how to handle a pistol. He likes the idea of showing off his own weaponry prowess and wants you to know how to protect yourself if it comes down to it.

Apprehensive to tell you what he does for work besides the military aspect. He’ll tell you he’s a sergeant in a Special Operations unit but you can’t get much else out of him. Has nightmares that he can’t explain to you due to the secrecy of his work and it makes him feel guilty.

At first he didn’t expect you to give him the same love he gave you due to the nature of his job, being away for so long and only being home for a few months (at best) at a time. He realized eventually that you live him despite the fact he’s gone for long periods of time and it made him all the more smitten with you.

Always makes a point to catch up with you when on leave. Likes to hear the gossip you’ve curated over the months, what new things happened at your own job: who quit, who got hired. The possibilities are endless. Sometimes he even comes in swinging with gossip of his own; a few recruits have had their names dragged through the mud.

Probably moved into the relationship very fast, didn’t even think about how his job could put a wedge between you two early on. Didn’t expect you to stay with him after his first deployment was over, but was so happy when you stayed.

Plans dates for you two to go on whenever he has downtime on base. He likes being cheesy about them, too. Always has flowers, always has a stupid one-liner at the ready, and always pays. He will not be convinced to let you pay.

Can and will gush about you to his friends and the other that members of the Task Force. Price is most willing to hear him talk about you and sometimes offers advice if Soap feels stuck, but Gaz is usually the easiest to talk to about relationships.

Please god let him take you shopping. It doesn’t matter if it’s clothes, shoes, or even grocery shopping. Let him take you. He is going to have the time of his life. Will compare prices like a grandmother — and will coupon like one too. Do not underestimate his shopping abilities.

Occasionally brings home trinkets for you that he found on missions. Be it a nice rock, a cool looking bullet casing, or a dead man’s knife; you better believe he is bringing it home for you to indulge in the crow instinct. Once brought you a cool ring he found in the dirt — it cost quite the pretty penny.

Writes you letters when deployed :( Literally writes pages upon pages of letters just so you can have more than just his clothes in the closet and pictures of him. He’ll talk about anything and everything he can do that you can know that he’s not dead and is waiting to come home to you.

You probably thought he was a father the first time you saw him, and that led you to believe he was married. But he is not either of those things until you’re ready!

Has thought about having a family, but doesn’t want to make you feel like you need to have a family to make him happy. He really just needs you to be happy and fulfilled.

Whenever he comes home, he makes a big show of it. Will spend three days just attached to you because he’s missed you too much to even think about letting you go. You will not convince him to leave you alone, he just wants to love you :(

Speaking of, when Price comes home from deployment he is immediately by your side doing domestic things. Yes, he does the cooking and yes he does the cleaning!! Takes care of you while he can and always makes sure you take care of yourself when he can’t.

Has definitely made comments about you to the boys, and has definitely gotten a lot of questions back. Whether it be Soap basically taunting him for information about you or Ghost asking how you’re doing, you’ve become quite the topic amongst the 141 (and you don’t even know it).

Has tried to tell you what he does for work but can’t bring himself to explain that he puts his life on the line for his job and that he could never come home one day. You understand the military can be dangerous, but you don’t know how dangerous his military career is. If you found out without him telling you, he’d definitely feel extremely guilty no matter your response.

#cod headcanons #cod mw2 #gaz x reader #john mactavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #gaz mw2 #price mw2 #cod x reader #mw2 x reader

[saturnville]

the man in the suit.

pairing: miguel galindo x afro latina fem oc (eliana)

prompt: miguel becomes infatuated with eliana, the owner of a popular coffee shop in town.

an: I was asked to bring back the Miguel Galindo fics by an anon. it's been over two years since I've written anything Mayans, but I'm always willing to revisit old fandoms, so, here we go, I hope you enjoy.

Her coffee shop was a staple in the town. Known for the rich Colombian coffee beans ground with intentionality, brewed with love, and served in mugs crafted by her own hands. The aura was always calm. Busy, but never so much that guests couldn't enjoy their time. They, just like she often, would get lost in the melodies of indie music that played from the speakers and drunk off caffeine and oat milk. The Tranquil Lounge was a blessing to Santo Padre.

Saturdays were the busiest days in the Lounge. College students stopped by to grind out assignments due the following day at midnight, entrepreneurs chugged coffee like water to finalize funding proposals, and others snuggled by the window with a good book. They were lively and invigorating; her favorite days in the shop.

She danced around her employees, humming a Marc Anthony tune as she topped off a cup with cold foam. Vivir mi vida, la, la, la, la, she hummed to herself.

"I'm very impressed. Most people don't know the lyrics passed the chorus," said an unfamiliar voice. Her teeth gleamed as she smiled softly. Her head still down, she placed a lid on the cup and slid it to the other side of the counter.

"I consider myself determined when it comes to learning song lyrics," she replied. "What can I get you?" Finally, she lifted her head, and she struggled to fight the instinct to gasp. How had he found her little coffee shop in town?

Miguel Galindo was notorious in Santo Padre. A businessman with illegal practices. The government hated him, men envied him, and women wanted him. Everyone in Santo Padre knew who he was and they knew better than to cross him. Their families could end up missing within hours if they upset him. It should have struck fear in her heart, but his presence did the opposite.

Her eyes scanned his attire. Bold of him to wear a white suit to drink coffee. But, it looked beautiful against his olive complexion. It was perfectly tailored to hug his broad shoulders. Her eyes followed its outline.

His brown eyes scanned the beautifully curated menu behind her. Bright colors against the blackboard. Sunflowers, rainbows, and bees decorated the menu. Creative, he noted. "I'll do a hot caramel macchiato. Medium, please." He handed her a twenty-dollar bill. She halted. The drink was $4.

Miguel looked unamused when she parted her lips to object, so she simply took the bill from his hand and thanked him with a smile. "Enjoy, hope to see you back soon."

He nodded. His eyes dropped to her nametag. Eliana, Founder. "Thank you, Eliana. You have a good day, quierda."

She smiled bashfully, "Gracias. You too."

-

Miguel Galindo was enamored by her. He saw the silhouette of her figure when he closed his eyes to rest at night. He heard the southern twang of her accent as he listened to music on the radio, and he saw the richness of her eyes in the mounds of chocolate chips scattered in Christopher's pancakes.

He made frequent appearances at the shop after that. Catching her friendly grin and gentle hands as she passed his cup to him was one of the few highlights of his day. He cherished it, craved it, and adored it.

He felt lucky when he waltzed into the shop one Saturday morning to find it empty. He thought it was a slow day, but she'd closed it for cleaning. And rather than turning him away, she welcomed him in.

"Your usual?" Eliana questioned. She propped her broom against a stable surface and turned to move behind the counter. "On the house."

"Oh no," Miguel waved. "You're not even open, I see." It was Eliana's turn to force an object into his hands. His usual--hot caramel macchiato; medium with a smiley face drawn on the side of the cup.

"You keep me in business, Mr. Galindo," Eliana replied teasingly with a smile. She was so pretty to him. The woman with a mahogany complexion and soft eyes with an unexplainably gentle aura.

Miguel's eyes dropped to the floor as he chuckled bashfully. He had a tendency to pay more than was due, but he credited it as paying in advance for future visits. "I just like to support where I can." Eliana picked up her broom and hummed, instructing him to get comfortable in the cushioned chairs near the window.

His eyes scanned the marvelous artwork that decorated the dark walls. Murals of people parading in fields of palm trees with drums, colorful skirts, and baskets of fruits, vegetables, and grains. They were all of deep complexion. His eyebrow rose.

"Where are you from?" He found himself asking.

"Costa Chica of Guerrero. Mexico." The area where Black Mexicans were the most populated.

"Tu familia?" Your family?

Eliana shrugged a shoulder and bent over to sweep the dirt unto the dustpan. "En México. Conseguí una beca para estudiar aquí. Se graduó con un título en negocios y decidió quedarse. It's a long story." In Mexico. I got a scholarship to study here. I graduated with my business degree and decided to stay.

Miguel mimicked her actions and gestured to the empty seat across from him. "I've got the time if you do."

-

They were polar opposites. She was an extrovert, he was introverted. She loved the fall, yet he found it one of the sadder seasons. Tea was her favorite, though she owned a coffee shop, but coffee was his holy grail. He grew up without his father present, but hers was her rock. So many new discoveries that he basked in like warm comforters on a winter day.

“I enjoyed today,” Miguel said as he walked her to her car. Hours had passed, the sun had set, and their day had come to a close. “I’d like to see you again.”

Eliana hummed as she tapped her key fob. Her vehicle chirped excitedly. She reached for the door handle, but Miguel beat her to it. She thanked him gently and slid into the seat. “Well, you’ll know where to find me, Miguel.”

He chuckled and nodded. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him, but. he liked that. Effort was required. He liked a challenge.

“I do,” he replied. “Be ready tomorrow evening. Be safe tonight, Eliana.”

Her brown eyes are twinkled with curiosity. She stretched up and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Wear a white suit.” And with that, she started her car and sped off into the night, leaving Miguel to bask in the eagerness of seeing her again.

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #miguel galindo x black!reader #miguel galindo x black reader #miguel galindo imagine #miguel galindo x reader #mayans mc #fx mayans mc #angel reyes #ez reyes