#I want to put the two of them under a microscope

[spacetimeaccordionfolder]

Currently thinking about characters touching another character and leaving blood on them. Like if a character's been hurt or just murdered someone and they touch another character's face and leave blood. push hair out of another's face and it's red now. care and horror and red

i don't even ship arkayne in a ship way more a "I want to study them" sort of way but oh the art folks do or or whatnot with Kayne leaving blood where he goes. and does he touch Arthur? Does he leave who know's who's blood that is on Arthur as it stains his own hands? or does he avoid that, leaving Arthur clean of him until The Order. And then after that! what happens. care and horror wrapped up in a bow with a smile and a light touch and two fathers who have lost their daughters talking to one another and it's this false kindness. does it leave behind blood. A reminder of what could happen if Arthur fails, or passing the blame of that blood on to him- blood that could be shed if he fails and more if he succeeds. Does Kayne notice he's bloodied Arthur or does he treasure the sight of a hand print on his sleeve, of the red now on Arthur's hand. They're alike now.

And anyway now I'm once again thinking about moments where tenderness and horror are mixed and woah

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

[inkyrainstorms]

Hyde hated his twin brother. And he had plenty of reasons, believe him, he had his goddamn reasons.

When they were kids, his stuck up prick of a twin would always insist on calling Hyde his younger brother, and every time Hyde threatened to put a pick through his teeth, he’d laugh and ruffle his hair like they weren’t the same fuckin’ height, the same age, like he always knew Hyde didn’t mean it—

And was it always because Henry knew he could do worse, would do worse, wanted to do worse, how long, how long had he thought of it, dreamed of becoming an only child while looking Hyde right in the eyes and smiling—

And Hyde didn’t mean it, of course. Hadn’t. Despite the very real urge to choke Henry’s lights out every time he played that stupid ‘holier-than-thou’ routine he loved so much, Hyde had never really done anything worse than a few maybe less-than-well-spirited pranks, getting Henry suspended half a dozen times in grade school by getting him wrapped up in Hyde’s shenanigans… and maybe breaking his nose once when they were both a fresh decade and a half old and Hyde was ready to fight anything that moved.

He’d never been… the easiest kid. Or the nicest.

Or the best brother, really.

But Jekyll took the fucking cake in the end. Fucking overachiever.

Always had to show Hyde up, didn’t he.

But none of that fucking mattered, because Hyde hated his twin.

He hated his stupid smug smile whenever he came home with another award or another perfect score, hated his indulgent, exasperatedly fond attitude whenever Hyde came home with twigs tangled so bad in his hair that it took them both over an hour to pry them all out, and Hyde hated— just. Everything about him. 

Was any of it real? How long, how long had he planned it, planned to—

He hated this house, too. Hated the gardens and their winding walk-paths through the delicately shaped bushes and flowerbeds, hated the first-floor bedroom he used to share, hated the empty, perfectly-made bed across from his own, the one that collected dust every day and every night that passed in those walls.

Everywhere he turned, there would be Henry smiling on the mantle place, Henry on the walls, and even his own goddamn parents touting around how brilliant their son was, attending Oxford, as a soon-to-be Doctor of Science — honestly, this whole place made Hyde want to rip his hair out. Henry, Henry, Henry, as if Jekyll had gotten his wish he’d cleansed his family name of Edward Hyde for good.

Shut up! He wanted to scream at them most days, throat bobbing and body trembling more than he’d ever admit as he held himself back, He’s not a great anything! He’s a fucking liar and if I ever see him again, I’ll fucking break his face! Before he can find finishing the job worth his time.

But he couldn’t. Couldn’t do anything but scowl and be difficult to everyone and hobble through the hallways so slow every day that he could count the floorboards beneath him as he did, that he could feel the burning stare of the photographs lining the walls at his sides.

He couldn’t even run anymore. Couldn’t climb, could barely walk even with the help of these stupid arm braces —crutches— whatever.

It was hard to do that shit without a leg. He’d become intimately aware of that fact in recent days. Months.

…

Henry was graduating next year, getting his Doctorate next summer. It was just cusping on the beginning of spring right now, so…

Three years.

It had been three years.

Three years and a week. He’d missed the anniversary, whatever it fucking meant to him.

What a fucking load of shit.

Hyde hated everything and everyone in this miserable house, and hated the one who haunted it even more. So, of course, it didn’t hurt at all to pull the packed bag out from under his bed, kneeling awkwardly on the floor with his good leg and its ugly stump of a twin folded beneath him. It didn’t hurt in the slightest when he pulled on his cloak and slipped the strap of the bag over his head to let it lie flat against his back. 

The only reason he stopped at the door of his room was because he didn’t want Henry’s fucking face to fucking judge him all the way to the door. 

And his parents would never let this ‘poor little crippled son’ do anything that would risk his precious health. That would be a goddamn shame, wouldn’t it. The neighbors would call them irresponsible, would gossip.

It only hurt a little, jumping out of the window and landing in the bushes below hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. But it was the good pain, the kind that he came home with after falling out of a tree, after a good fight. It made him feel alive. 

And he’d even — if only because he couldn’t do shit-all without them — remembered to toss his crutches out the window before him. They were only a little banged up, tangled up in the branches as they were. But they were like him. They could take it.

As Hyde stalked his way through the garden and slipped through the gap in the fence he’d never told anyone, not even H— him about, he couldn’t help but grin in that wide too-many-teeth way that always made his parents and teachers nervous.

The night was his. 

When he went to it, followed its call, it promised him escape, freedom, and everything else that had been taken from him that night.

And what he couldn’t get back didn’t matter anymore. 

Hyde hated his twin.

So nothing could ever hurt him again.

————

@afkphorabit @kaykayli @aliens-took-my-iwa-chan Hyde is…. Going through it lmao

[setevulpo]

single hotties available for possession in your area

supernatural, s14e07: "unhuman nature"

stigmata: escaping texts, hélène cixous

supernatural, s14e07: "unhuman nature"

power politics, margaret atwood

supernatural, s07e15: "repo man"

the sea, the sea, iris murdoch

supernatural, s07e15: "repo man"

[unholiis]

@oblyvn send a secret ━━━ Arys lifts the goggles from his face, which’ve left an imprint on the ash and soot against his cheeks. Amber eyes look up from his project and he offers Shion a lopsided grin. “Well if it isn’t my favourite duo,” he stands, making his way to Shion, saluting the lizard on their shoulder, offering a finger for it to sniff and approve. “Ya think he’ll ever let me pet him?”

shion couldn't quite explain it but there was something riveting about watching arys work on his little projects, to see his face contorted in concentration, brows furrowed, droplets of sweat rolling across temple before dripping upon the iron. love for the craft. perhaps that was it. the genuine, passionate love for the craft and seeing it become real. it prompts them to draw closer, curious and ever so eager, heeled boots guiding them towards the mechanic: close but not too close as to not disturb him ━━━ ( nor be affected by the heat ).

however it seems their presence was noticed regardless and how can they not smile in return when they're greeted with such a dazzling grin ? even more when their darling companion is addressed as well. did arys realize that it only made shion become that much more softer around him whenever he did that ? truly dangerous. the agent pushes those thoughts down and instead focuses upon the way their little shikigami curiously looked up at arys, snout tentatively reaching forward before tongue briefly licked to taste the air and appraise the extended finger before it drew back [ ━━━ ] slithering underneath shion's collar. ❝ such a sweet talker you are. ❞ gloved hand is raised to daringly cup a warm cheek, thumb wiping away some of the soot. ❝ he will, give it time. ❞

the hand upon arys' cheek eventually playfully squeezes the soft flesh before he lets go. instead it ends up traveling upwards to rest upon dark locks, carefully tangling a lock around hidden metallic digit. ❝ perhaps he's waiting until i can pet you first. ❞ shion doesn't bother restraining the soft laughter that bubbles up, visible eye twinkling with mischief and a certain kind of delight that remained quite difficult to grasp. ❝ what do you say ? can i ? ❞

[astranauticus]

tbh if i really had to articulate the difference between yoo joonghyuk and kim dokja to me because both of them drive me absolutely insane but it's like. i want to draw yoo joonghyuk i want to put kim dokja in a little terrarium and carry him in my pocket. yjh gives me endless art ideas kdj gives me absolutely deranged analysis-adjacent thoughts i cannot possibly hope to articulate

[immobiliter]

@avaere sent: " Your ... teacher , if I can refer to Lady Bonajade as such , drives quite the hard bargain , I must say."

And while he cannot pride himself to recollect all the titles of those among the stonehearts, the ever so persistent voice of a peacock has already managed to leave an echo of her name in the back of the halovian's mind; Topaz, the woman with the tiny trotter, a creature whose name Sunday hasn't quite memorized yet (Dumbo? Bombo?). In the little time he had to search up the name of this woman in particular, Sunday learned a few things;

She drives a hard bargain, too.

Do not mess with the teeny trotter.

"I overheard that the two of you did give old man Otis a run for his credits," he'd continue, almost humored by the general outcome of everything, the feldspar and majority of Penacony now under the watchful eyes of others. "That is quite the achievement. He can be quite bothersome to deal with, speaking from somewhat of a personal experience ; what will the wise and intriguing Topaz do now that the treasure of Penacony has been secured?"

(perhaps set in a setting a little after everything?)

       She’d heard so much about Mr. Sunday that, in hindsight, it would have been impossible for him to live up to the picture she had painted of him in her mind. Despite having never met him personally ( until now ), the impression formed had resulted from a melting pot of numerous different sources: from the intel that she and Aventurine had gathered on the heads of The Family before departing for Penacony, to her knowledge of the man's sister and her glittering career across the cosmos; her fellow Stoneheart's retelling of the control freak Sunday and his devastating brand of the Harmony, and Lady Jade's revelation to her that Penacony was not all she sought from their negotiation aboard the Feldspar.

       That was, of course, not to mention the pariah hood he had faced after his failed coup over the Dreamscape — a dream that had ensnared even her, bystander to events as she had believed herself to be, stuck in the Reverie hotel — and the trial he would have faced had her mentor not intervened. Since then, Sunday had not been a name spoken kindly on many lips, and yet...

       He seemed pleasant enough to her even now. Calm, polite, affable. Disarmingly so, perhaps, and that could well have been his modus operandi all along, but never in her professional career with the IPC had it sat right with Topaz to judge another person based on the preconceptions of others, and she would not start now.

       Though a degree of wariness was still sensible, she reasoned. She'd heard the reports and rumours flying through the IPC's media channels: he was here now as a Stellaron Hunter, those curious individuals with an exceedingly good credit rating but a hefty bounty on their heads.

       “ Lady Jade is rather formidable. ” He was pleasant to her, and so she would be in return, acknowledging his remark with a small, knowing smile. “ The deal may have been struck and the contract signed, but that doesn't mean my work ends there, Mr. Sunday. I've never been much of a passive investor, and I know that Penacony still has some ways to go before the sweet dream is once again to be trusted by the tourists who flock there to enjoy it. ”

       Jade had handed the responsibility of acquiring Penacony to her, and she could not simply walk away after the dust had settled. Your problem is you care too much, Topaz. The voice of a certain gambler echoed uncomfortably in her mind. Her fatal flaw, perhaps, but she hoped that channelling her own brand of professional dedication into this latest project might help to diminish the black mark left on her record from her recent failure.

[brekkie-e]

To the person who just tagged my Mythal post with why Merril should have been the expert, not Morrigan at the Tempal of Mythal who said it was like "having a Jewish person explain Islam."

It really really isn't. It's like a professor of anthropology who has spent no time living in the culture of their "expertise" lecturing a member of said culture on their own history. Not to mention the fact that all her knowledge on elvhen history and lore is genuinely stolen, not unlike the deeds of actual "historical researchers" from universities. Her knowledge on elvhen lore is not from being raised by Mythal- by and large- it is from literally stealing from a Dalish clan.

I sincerely disagree with bringing up actual in world religions, especially those two given the state of world events, to this. However, if thats the argument presented- Judaism and Islam are both Abrahamic religions. Neither party can give an entire and accurate explanation of the other's religion- but there is generally a basic understanding of certain concepts. But further removed from that, you're still discussing two people who are active members of said cultures. A better example of this in game would be Solas and a Dalish Inquisitor or Merril. Two members of their own very specific culture who's experiences may have similarities, but they are still seperated by their beliefs at the end of the day.

Morrigan is outside of the culture and the history and the religion- speaking on it with an authority she has not earned but stolen. It's really just. Not similar to two irl members of a religion/community arguing about their different beliefs. They're not her beliefs, they're her hyperfixation.

Not that at the end of the day I disagree with the sentiment to have Merril in Inquisition, especially at the temple. I love the idea of Solas, Merril, and Morrigan in that mission the weirdest combination of bickering possible. Merril being frustrated with both of them for talking down to the Dalish. Solas being annoyed at Merril for being wrong, but also getting defensive and mad at Morrigan for focusing on the Dalish being wrong over the wrong thing. Morrigan and Merril being mad Solas is spouting facts but not citing his sources. Solas and Merril both being exhausted by a human explaining elf stuff to them. It had potential. But they couldnt even fit the Dalish Inquisitor in to the scene so there definitely not finding room for Merril.

[tex-now]

Hiccuos and gasps and sobs

Anyone hear those bells tolling?

[rtgame]

i must write a charmuro fic

[illbegottenfaith]

the one where theo gets glasses

"What did you say you needed again?"

Theo was standing in his bathroom, staring at three equally incomprehensible bottles. From his bed, you called out something unintelligible. He pushed back his hair, damp from the shower, now sticking to his forehead in stubborn clumps.

"What?"

You looked up from the issue of Witch Weekly you had nicked from the common room and were now flicking through. You sighed, repeating yourself.

"Dreamless Sleep potion. The one with the blue label."

A brief silence. Then, his voice echoed from the bathroom, dry and irritable -

"They're all blue."

You huffed, swinging your legs off his bed.

"Just - hang on."

You entered the ensuite to see Theo squinting at the bottles under the bathroom light, holding them up close then far away from his face.

"You look like an old man at the apothecary," you teased. Theo didn't look half as amused.

"I am in an apothecary," he grumbled. "What are all these - so many - and why are their fonts all microscopic?"

You plucked the right potion out of his hand. "They're not microscopic. You just need glasses."

He frowned. "I keep telling you, I don't need -"

"Teddy, you're holding them like it's a tea leaf reading."

He put the remaining vials down. "It's - the lighting."

You didn't look impressed.

"Really? You're going to stand there and tell me you can't read under bright, fluorescent lighting?"

Theo took on a sulky look. "I had it narrowed down," he muttered.

"To what? The cabinet?"

He gave you a look.

"You know, it's very rude of you to be coming in here and insulting my perfectly acceptable vision."

You raised your eyebrows. "This coming from the man who washed his hair with muscle relaxant last week?"

Theo huffed. "I keep telling you, my eyes had soap - "

"Muscle relaxant."

"Oh my god."

"How did you not realise in the shower? You reeked of menthol." You padded out of the bathroom with your potion. "We'll get your eyes checked at Hogsmeade first thing tomorrow."

You pulled the covers up as Theo walked out of the bathroom, dressed for bed, with a faintly petulant look on his face.

"Fine," he mumbled, drawing you close as he joined you under the covers, smelling refreshingly clean of his unscented soap. You dimmed the light just enough for your magazine.

"You look hot," you tried encouragingly as Theo glared at you from behind his dark tortoiseshell lenses.

It was barely 10 am and Theo had already had his eyes examined and his glasses chosen. He didn't seem much appeased by your efforts in finding the frame that would best suit his features and colouring. You were starting to realise him rushing you through breakfast that morning had less to do with his eagerness to get his glasses and more to do with him wanting to finish before everyone else started arriving. Now, as the two of you waited for the bill to be drawn up, he scoffed.

"Yeah, right."

"I'm serious. I'll have to beat off all the fifth year Ravenclaws with a stick, trust me."

"Now you're just mocking me."

You grinned. "Only a little."

You meandered at the door while Theo paid. Outside, spring was in full bloom this time of year. The air was fragrant with the perfume of flowers in the chilly, stagnant morning air.

When Theo stepped out to join you, you stuck your hand in his as you walked back. For a moment, it seemed like he was refusing you before he finally relented and curled his fingers around yours. You watched his expression concernedly.

"Do you really hate them that much?" you asked softly. "Are they really that bad?"

He sighed. The slight weight on his nose felt foreign and the newfound sharpness made everything feel more vivid in a nauseating way. But at the same time, walking down the cobblestone path as the first morning rays filtered through the dissipating clouds felt like seeing spring for the first time all over again.

"I'm just not good with change," he settled for instead.

"But doesn't everything seem crisper? Brighter? Doesn't everything look different? Don't I look different?"

You batted your eyes exaggeratedly at him, earning the first genuine albeit faint smile from Theo in the past 12 hours.

The two of you paused in your tracks as Theo looked at your face. "I don't remember your eyelashes being so...distinct." He cupped your face, dragging his thumb across a faint smudge near the corner of your eye. "And since when have you had this birthmark?"

"Since forever." You stepped back and put your hands on your hips. "Don't tell me you don't even know what I look like."

Theo mock squinted.

"I think I liked you better blurry."

You made a sound of mock indignation.

"I inhale my eggs, come down all this way, go through the headache of picking out your frame for you, and this is how you repay me?"

You sniffed disapprovingly, crossing your arms.

"And to think I used to have a thing for guys with glasses."

Stunned, Theo could only watch as you continued down the path without him at a brisk pace. He thought back to the months you spent badgering him to go and get his eyes checked.

"You couldn't have led with that?"

[puckinghischier]

Spotlight

luke hughes x fem!reader

summary - reader prefers to stay out of the spotlight being luke hughes’ girlfriend brings

notes - y’all asked for luke, so luke you’ll get. i wanted to try to get out at least one more fic for you guys before my semester kicks off tomorrow. i don’t know how often i’ll be able to write once things get going, but i’m going to try my best not to completely disappear again. i don’t really like the ending of this, but i hope you enjoy it anyways. happy reading! 🫶🏼

request - “go with me?” “only if you’ll hold my hand” “take my jacket, i don’t want you catching a cold”

[2.3k]

You were someone that absolutely hated the spotlight. You hated the feeling of eyes on you, the knowledge that every move you make is being observed and analyzed.

You flew under the radar all through school, until college. You managed to become valedictorian of your program, earning a highly sought after position with a company based out of New Jersey.

The city has always brought a sense of anonymity to you that you’ve enjoyed. The ability to be a stranger everywhere you go brings a certain comfort to you.

That is, until you met one of the most well-known men in Jersey.

You first met Luke at an event your company was hosting in partnership with the Devils to present them with a hefty donation for a new practice facility. You had tried to get out of going, suit and tie events not being your typical scene, but your boss informed you that you were required to attend.

Even wearing the most plain dress you could find, you caught the attention of none other than the team’s rookie defenseman. You had tried to politely make your exit, but Luke was too intrigued by the pretty stranger in the corner.

The two of you had spent the rest of the night talking, despite the feeling of every eye on you as Luke lead you back to a table. The two of you exchanged numbers at the end of the event, Luke inviting you out to a game. He offered to give you a ticket, but you informed him that your company had rink-side season seats, courtesy of the GM after the donation.

You attended games regularly after that night, blending in the sea of red with Luke’s own Jersey on your back—another perk of the large donation— while also chatting with Luke nearly every day over text, which eventually morphed into phone calls, then facetime calls when he was on the road.

Four months after your initial meeting, Luke decided to make it official and put a label on your relationship.

You had worried about the unwanted attention that came with being a ‘WAG’ as you learned the other significant others on the team were nicknamed, but your feelings for Luke were greater than any discomfort you may experience.

Now, though, looking at the hoard of photographers that are stationed around the rink, your anxiety begins to spike a little.

“Honeybee, I promise it’ll be fine. They probably won’t even focus on us, anyways. They’ll want a few shots of me and Jack with mom and dad, but it’s likely they’ll be too busy on the guys with kids to even notice you’re with me,” Luke reassures you, crouched in front of you while tying your skates.

Today was family skate day for the team, Luke having asked you weeks ago to participate with him.

You agreed, despite your limited ability to skate, thinking it was just going to be the players and their families, no media presence. When you arrived with Luke this morning, however, and you saw the photographers trying to get pictures through the windows of Luke’s BMW, you realized you were wrong.

“I’m just nervous, Luke,” you tell him quietly. “I know if they release pictures of you with a girl during family skate it’s going to be the next big hockey gossip topic, and then it’ll feel like I’m under a microscope.”

Luke’s soft eyes look up at you, sensing the nervousness in your own.

“I know, sweet girl. But I promise, I’ll have Tom talk to the media and tell him to withhold any pictures of us together, if that makes you feel better?” he offers, picking up your now skate clad foot off of his knee and placing it on the padded floor.

You think about the offer, but realize it would still cause unwanted attention on you. You don’t want to be difficult, just invisible.

“No, I don’t want to overcomplicate things. It’s fine. Like you said, I’m sure they’ll mostly focus on everyone else,” you smile down at him, watching his own grin overtake his face.

“Well then, it’s time we finally get you acquainted with the ice. I have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot of it in your future,” he winks, standing to his full height and holding a hand out to help you off of the bench.

He helps you walk over to the entrance to the rink, steadying you after every wobble. Once you reached the gate, you hesitate, halting your movements.

“C’mon, Honeybee. Go with me?” Luke asks you, already having stepped on the ice.

Thinking about what this means once more, and the huge step it is, no only onto the ice but in your relationship, you hesitate for only a few seconds.

“Only if you hold my hand,” you tell him, your words going deeper than just ice skating.

“Always,” he responds, tugging your hands towards him when you step onto the ice, shakily keeping your balance.

“Well, look at you, Wallflower, out here skating with the big dogs,” Jack calls out, skating up towards you and Luke.

Looking over to give him a short smile, you try to keep a majority of your attention on not falling over as Luke slowly pulls you towards him as he skates backwards.

“Figured it can’t be that hard if you do it all the time,” you tease him back, the two of you becoming close friends over the course of yours and Luke’s relationship.

Jack, as rambunctious and rowdy as he can be, is one of the people who works the hardest to keep you out of the spotlight, other than Luke, of course.

On the rare occasion you decide to tag along for team outings with Luke, Jack will act as your own personal body guard, perfectly hiding you in-between him and Luke anytime there’s a flash of a camera or a squeal of a fan.

“Oh, yeah, make fun of the professional. Let’s see you do this,” Jack makes a big show of skating backwards while swiveling, then executing a very poor jump, but still managing to land upright on his skates.

You roll your eyes at him, only glancing up for a few seconds at a time, trying to keep your eyes on your own feet.

“Alright, Jack, that’s enough showing off. Give the poor girl a break,” you hear Ellen scold her middle child as her and Jim skate over towards the three of you, hand in hand.

“Hey, she started it. I was just trying to defend myself,” he holds his hands up in surrender.

Luke guides you over to one of the short walls, allowing you to hold onto it for support for a second, giving you a break.

“Don’t act like you have to have a reason to show off, it’s just your natural state,” you tease Jack again, earning a laugh from the rest of the group.

“You got me there,” Jack doesn’t argue, shrugging his shoulders in agreement.

“Jack! Luke! Over here!” you hear a voice yell, turning to look at the photographer a few feet away from you, leaning over the wall with his camera pointed in your direction.

You feel the spike of anxiety in your chest, attempting to scoot further down the wall to separate yourself from them, but nearly losing your balance.

Luckily Luke was right there to catch you. “Hey, it’s okay. They’ll just get a few pictures of our family together and then move on,” he assures you once he makes sure you’re steady enough to be left alone.

You watch as Jack and Luke position themselves in just the right way that you’re completely hidden behind them, the added bodies of Ellen and Jim only ensuring your hidden state.

The photographer snaps a few shots of the family before giving a thumbs up, looking down to check the quality of his pictures.

You let out the breath you were holding in, sagging a bit at the relief of avoiding any unwanted attention.

“See, told you there was nothing to worry about,” Luke skates over to you again, leading you away from the wall.

“Luke! How about a shot of you and your lady!” the same photographer yells out, causing your relaxed state to turn rigid in a heartbeat.

“Nah, man. No pictures for her today. Just me and Jack,” Luke replies, skating to stand in front of you, blocking you from the camera pointed at you.

“Oh, c’mon, man. The fans will love it!” the photographer tries again, attempting to move positions to catch a glimpse of you.

“He said, no, man. Go get some shots of Cap or something. She doesn’t want her picture taken,” Jack skates up, standing in front of both you and Luke.

The photographer rolls his eyes, agitated at the loss of a good picture opportunity. “Fine, whatever,” the man huffs, turning and walking towards Nico and his family.

“Thanks, you guys,” you mumble out, embarrassed at the interaction.

“I told you, no pictures if you don’t want them,” Luke turns to face you, taking your hands in his once again, pulling you out further onto the ice.

The rest of the skate goes smoothly, no more unwanted attention from the photographers, just you and Luke and his family skating in small circles and having a good time.

Towards the end of the skate, you start bringing your gloved hands up to rub at your red nose, the chill of the ice finally getting to you.

“You cold, Honeybee?” Luke asks you, knowing how chilled you get, even when wearing layers like you were right now.

“Yeah, it’s a little chilly in here. Not that you’d know,” you tease your boyfriend, gesturing to his full set of pads and jersey he was wearing. Not to mention his tolerance for the cold anyways.

He leads the two of you over towards the benches, leaving you leaned against the wall for a second before returning with something in his hands.

“Here, take my jacket, I don’t want you catching a cold,” he tells you, draping your favorite plaid jacket of his over your shoulders.

You put your arms through the large sleeves, loving how you were now engulfed in the smell of his cologne.

Thanking him, you lean up to give him a small kiss, not caring who was watching, lost in your love for your boyfriend.

“Alright, let’s get you out of these skates and back into your normal shoes before people start filing in for warm ups. I have a game to play and you have to get to your seat so you can watch your hunky boyfriend do his manly job of hitting people and chasing a piece of rubber on ice,” he tells you, causing you to laugh at him, bringing a hand up to ruffle his curls.

After helping you remove your skates, and pouting until you give him a good luck kiss, Luke shoos you away so you can make your way to your usual seat, Jim and Ellen opting to join you at the glass rather than sitting in a box with some of the other player parents.

The boys ended up winning their game, Luke coming straight out of the locker room after the game and picking you up in a celebratory spin, claiming you have to go skating with him before every game now.

You laugh at his superstitious self, grabbing his hand and walking towards the exit of the rink with him to join the rest of the team for celebratory drinks, not wanting to bail on Luke after such a game.

Weeks later, when you see an article containing the pictures from the family skate event, you click on it and scroll through the various snapshots.

You find yourself smiling at all of the family pictures of Luke’s teammates, enjoying how happy the guys are to have their wives and kids with them on the ice.

Scrolling all the way to the end of the article, you find yourself stopping on a couple pictures in particular, the familiar pit of anxiety forming in your stomach.

The last two pictures in the article are pictures of you and Luke. The first was taken when he was zipping up the jacket he gave you, the two of you looking at each other with so much fondness you could feel the love radiating from the picture.

The second is when you were craning your neck to give Luke a small kiss, the picture captured right before your lips touched, both of you smiling at the other with the same fond look in your eyes.

Your immediate reaction should have been a level three meltdown, your picture out there with Luke, officially, in an ESPN article of all places, but you were surprisingly calm. You should have been screaming and angry, having specifically told the photographer no pictures, but you couldn’t find that anger within yourself.

The pictures showcased yours and Luke’s love for each other so well, you wanted copies of them for yourself. Suddenly you didn’t care if people knew your name, or your face. You could care less if you were front and center on every hockey gossip page in existence.

All you cared about was the amount of happiness you saw on Luke’s face in the pictures, and how deeply you felt about him.

So, when Luke called you an hour later, panicked and telling you he was in the process of getting them taken down, you told him it didn’t matter. They didn’t need to be taken down, because you didn’t care if you had to stand naked in the middle of the rink during puck drop at his next game, you just wanted people to know you loved him with every ounce of your being.

Your aversion to attention be damned, seeing these pictures made you want to scream your love for him from the rooftop of the highest building in Jersey. You were still opposed to the idea of unwanted and unnecessary attention, but decided right here that there would be no more hiding. You were going to be there for Luke in any way he wanted or needed you from here on out. And if you happened to be caught in a few pictures on the way? Well, you guess you’ll just have to get them framed.

[theartofsimpatry]

Yandere Thragg Headcanons!! 🔞

I wrote this without reading the comics so if this is OOC for Thragg… oh well ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

-You probably got his attention by either 1. Being extremely strong or 2. Being extremely fertile. Im going with option 1!

-Your strength intrigued him, he knew if you two fucked, you’d give him strong children, maybe even stronger than a pure-bred Viltrumite.

-You decided to not make the Viltrumite empire your enemy and you couldn’t help but find Thragg attractive~

-He was a lil surprised (and turned on) by how willing you were to be his breeding mate.

-You’re taken to Thraxa after he took it over and are introduced to all of his other breeding mates…

-The Thraxan doctors have your ovaries under a microscope 24/7 due to Thragg’s thirst to have you impregnated.

-Turns out you’re not as compatible with Viltrumite DNA as Thraxans are, so you convince him that he needs to put all of his DNA and time into you. As your potential offspring would be much stronger and live longer than the Thraxan-Viltrumite halfbreeds he’s been making.

-Next thing you know, you’re the only female he sleeps with now. It will take many many many times to get you pregnant after all.

-His libido is out of this world, he’s ready to go 25/8 and he would be going all day every day if it wasn’t your own tiredness.

-Originally he found this annoying, how you’d stop the fucking, have one of the servants bring food and drinks then would sleep for hours instead of being his impregnable fleshlight.

-He’d learn to wait for you to wake up, he’d lay in bed next to you watching you sleep and grew… to like it….

-He began seeing your needs as important too, not just his and the empire’s.

-He gets frustrated with himself when he realizes he’s beginning to feel the same “weakness” and affinity for the “lower lives of the universe” that his underlings had.

-He WANTS to kill you, to destroy this weakness, he needs to be strong for the empire… you’re supposed to only be his breeding mate after all.

-While he’s thinking about killing you, you’re almost killed by another alien and he finds myself protecting you. No one else is allowed to kill you, only he is! (He’s not gonna do it)

-He finds himself staring at you after you two fucked, you’re sleeping peacefully and he raises a hand to try to quickly kill you. You roll over, feeling his arm missing from your grasp and cuddle into his chest… he can’t do it, he lowers his arm and wraps it around you.

-When you do finally get pregnant, his protection and yandere-ness gets stronger.

-You won’t be able to leave the palace without him by your side, servants are with you 24/7 for whatever you may need.

-You guide his head to your baby bump and with his sonic hearing, he can hear the baby move and kick around inside of you.

-Yeah… he loves you…. He even loves that lil baby in you despite never meeting them.

-he hates how stupid and uncontrollable he feels when he realizes he truly loves you.

-His thoughts are consumed by you and your child now

-Even the empire now comes second to you ❤️

[munsonsmixtapes]

That's My Man

rockstar!eddie x popstar!reader

Eddie defends you in an interview and you repay him in the most generous way

cw: MDNI (18+) oral (m receiving) handjob, the interviewer makes some inappropriate comments about reader

This is a request made my the always lovely @the-witty-pen-name who also came up with the title!

Eddie puts on the pair of headphones that were pervaded for him as the “on air” sign glows the bright red, signaling that the show has started. He doesn’t even know why he even agreed to this interview. The guy’s an ass and Eddie just knows that he’s inevitably going to say something inappropriate. 

He’s really only doing this because his team begged him to. Why, he doesn’t know since the majority of the band’s fanbase hates the kind of guy that Rick is. He’s everything in the book that Eddie can’t stand and now he’s gotta sit here for an hour for his segment. It can’t be too bad, can it? 

“Eddie, welcome,” Rick greets and Eddie puts on a smile even though all he really wants is to kick Rick’s ass. He’s unfortunately caught clips of the show here and there and all he does is sexualize women and talk badly about people of color and members of the LGBTQ+ community. 

“Hey, thanks,” Eddie replies, trying his best to not say something he really shouldn’t. He just sits there and waits for Rick to start the conversation. 

“So you’ve got a new album out which is “From the Upside Down.” What was the process like for creating the record?” Eddie’s genuinely caught off guard by the question considering that Rick never seems to care about that kind of thing. Maybe this won’t be as bad as he initially thought. 

“It was actually so different from what we’ve done for past albums. We actually did everything ourselves this time and that was really fun. We took some time off and wrote a bunch of songs and Gareth actually produced them so that was a really cool process to see.” 

Eddie loves talking about his music. It’s like a parent talking about their child. He’s always so proud of himself and his bandmates for what they do and he doesn’t think that’s ever going to change. They worked so hard to get where they are now and he’s nothing but grateful that this is his job. 

“That’s very interesting,” Rick nods and there’s just something about the look on his face that makes it obvious that he’s about to say some dumb shit. “So I know you’re seeing y/n l/n and can I just say, well done, man.” Yep, definitely some dumb shit. 

Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes. Normally, Eddie would love to talk about you. It’s actually his favorite thing to do. But not like this, not in the way that Rick and a lot of other men like to. Where they just sexualize you and reduce you to an object. Eddie won’t stand for that for anyone, but especially not you. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I’m “seeing” her,” Eddie laughs nervously. You’ve been trying to keep your relationship under wraps for the past six months but it’s so hard to do when the two of you are under a microscope. 

“Oh, so you wouldn’t categorize this as seeing her?” Rick asks as he pulls up a photo of you and Eddie kissing outside a bar. He didn’t even know that anyone had taken photos of that and now he feels gross.

“Well-” he tries to explain himself but Rick quickly cuts him off. 

“Is she a good kisser? Better yet, is she good in bed?” All of this makes Eddie want to throw up and he can’t believe that men like Rick actually have the audacity to ask questions like that. 

“I don’t feel comfortable answering that,” he answers politely even though he’s seconds away from a crash out. 

“C’mon, you can tell me. It’s just us.” It’s actually not considering it’s a live radio show and even if it wasn’t, that’s something just between you and Eddie and no one else. Especially not pigs like Rick. 

“No, I’m not sharing anything about our relationship. That’s the only thing we have that’s ours.” 

“Is she flexible? I bet she’s flexible.” He shows Eddie a photo of you doing a split on stage and his lunch is about to come up. “Oh yeah, definitely-” 

Rick doesn’t even have time to finish his sentence before Eddie snatches the tablet and slams it down on the table. He would never let any woman be talked about this way. Especially not his girlfriend. 

The anger is festering and he’s having a real hard time trying to keep his cool. Fuck that. He’s not going to be so nice anymore, not wanting anymore disgusting things to be said about you. He can’t let anything else be said about you or he’s going to do something he regrets. 

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he points at Rick, glaring at the man and the man actually looks afraid of him. Good. “I know you tend to objectify women and that shit stood today. If I ever hear you talk about anyone else this way or in a derogatory manner, you’ll have me to answer to. Now keep my wife’s name out of your mouth or we’re going to have a problem.” 

With that, out of the room. Nothing is worth sitting there and letting that man sexualize you. It makes him feel disgusting and now he feels like he needs a long shower. He’s wiping his jacket with his hands to try to literally get rid of that feeling, but he knows the only thing that will help is seeing you. He just needs someone to talk to about the whole thing. 

He’s driving to the venue where you’re performing tonight before he can stop himself. He just wants to hold you in his arms and tell you how much he loves you, hoping that you haven’t been listening to the radio even though he’s sure that you are because you always listen to his interviews. 

Eddie’s so angry about the whole thing, still letting it eat at him even though he already took care of it. He just needs to calm down and he will as soon as he sees you. That always makes him feel better. Just thinking about you is doing the trick and when he pulls up to the venue, the weight on his shoulders is lifting.

You’re sitting in your dressing room, doing your makeup when he walks in, your face lighting up when you see him in the mirror. The anger on his face seems to melt away when he sees you, his smile matching yours as he makes a beeline for you. He saw you just this morning but the time you’ve spent away was far too long. 

You get up from your chair and he’s quick to pull you into a hug, a tight one as he buries his face into your neck. This is all he’s wanted all day, especially since he stormed out of the interview. You always seem to calm the screaming that’s constantly going on in his head. Your hand moves up into his hair, scratching at his scalp as he kisses your neck, moving your hair away from it as he does so. 

You pull away far too soon for his liking before pulling him in for a kiss. He’s needy and desperate and he just wants to show you how much he loves you. Your hands are in his hair as you lick into his mouth, moaning loudly which is only making him harder. He needs your cunt so bad and is so close to taking you right there until you begin to grind against him. 

“I heard what you said on the radio,” you tell him as you kiss down his neck, unbuttoning his jeans. “Defending me like that, it was so…hot,” you whisper the last part into his ear before biting down on the lobe before kissing his neck again, giving it a rough suck, making him squirm. 

You’re backing him up against the vanity, pinning him there as you continue to suck, his hands falling from you to grip the table behind him, white knuckling it as he lets out a whine, his cock hardening even more to the point where you can now fully feel him against you. 

“Now I feel like I owe you.” He defended you and you know it’s because you’re his wife, but you know that he would do that for anyone and that’s how you know you got one of the good ones. 

“You-you don’t owe me anything, sweetheart,” he breathes. He really wants whatever you’re willing to give but only if you really want to not because you think he deserves in return for defending you.

“How about I suck you off, is that payment enough?” His eyes widen at both your question and the way you’re biting down on him. 

“Please,” he whines, needing to get some sort of relief. You give his neck one more kiss before pulling down his jeans, his underwear following as you get down onto your knees. You’re looking up at him with lustful eyes and he watches you, wondering what you’re going to do next. 

You start by spitting into your hand then grab hold of the base, slow strokes to warm him up but they progressively get more intense. He’s already leaking with precum, letting out stuttered breaths as he watches, white knuckling as a moan escapes his lips. 

You keep up the pace, moving as fast as you can as Eddie lets out moan after moan. He’s coming undone already so you know he won’t last long. And you only have a few more minutes before you have to be on stage, so you’ve gotta make it worthwhile. You’ve really gotta make this count. 

You bring your tongue to the slit, licking up the cum that’s already come out, not wanting to waste a drop then bring your lips to the base, kissing it which catches Eddie off guard. You’re now peppering it with kisses and he somehow gets even more hard as he watches you leave lipstick prints behind. It’s hot. You’re hot and he thinks this is where he likes you most, on your knees.

You then bring your mouth back to the slit, licking it again before bringing it into your mouth, sucking lightly as Eddie’s hands wind into your hair, letting out yet another whine as you bring him in deeper, sucking harder as your tongue swirls around the head. You’re taking him inch by inch and he’s so close, on the edge of an orgasm as you finally get the last bit of him inside. 

Cum leaks into your mouth as he screams your name, your eyes watering as the head hits the back of your throat, gagging as you suck him off for just a bit longer. Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you pull him out of your mouth with a loud pop, making sure to swallow as he helps you to your feet. 

Eddie pats your tears dry with a tissue so as to not smudge your makeup before you press a lingering kiss to his lips. You clean him up before pulling up his pants and touching up your lipstick.

“How’s that for repaying you?” You ask and he smiles, still dizzy from receiving the best head of his life as he follows you to the side of the stage, wondering how he can get you to do that again once your show is over. He’s sure that you won’t need much convincing.

[f0point5]

Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader Masterlist

She’s still bejewelled - Y/N finds out F1 wag pages are once again speculating she is dating her best friend, Max Verstappen

It’s (not) a cruel summer - Y/N and Max enjoy the summer break

August slipped away - Y/N does a Q&A to catch up with her followers after summer break

Burning red- Lando puts his foot in it

Holy ground - Fans discuss their excitement to see Y/N and Max interact at Zandvoort

I’m the one who understands you - A window into Max and Y/N’s home life

It turned into something bigger - Y/N’s comments about her childhood friend, Mick Schumacher, lead to a social media firestorm

They’d say I’d hustled, put in the work - A look at Y/N’s podcast, Dirty Air(time)

Shake it off - Determined to forget her worries, Y/N goes out parting with Max and Lando

They say home is where the heart is - Fans discuss how Y/N and Max love being roommates

(We’re) in the club doing I don’t know what - Fans look back on Max and Y/N’s Club Rat Renaissance

Pauses, then says, (he’s) my best friend - Y/N spends the day in Amsterdam while Max does press at Zandvoort

How evergreen, our group of friends - Snippets of Y/N and Max’s other friends on the grid and beyond

We’re faster and never scared - It’s a dramatic Friday in the Zandvoort paddock

I watch Superman fly away - The drama continues as Y/N and Mick have a run in in the paddock

Long live all the magic he made - Y/N supports Max as he equals the record for most consecutive wins

Remember the footsteps - A look at Y/N and Mick’s lifelong friendship

He has his father’s eyes…his father’s ambition - A look at Y/N’s relationship with Jos

I love your handshake, meeting my father - Fans discuss Jos’s perspective on Y/N, and her relationship with Max

And maybe it was egos swinging - Everyone speculates about the cause and consequences of Y/N and Mick’s falling out

I fell from the pedestal - Y/N becomes the subject of internet trolling after her fall out with Mick becomes public

Don’t know how long it’s gonna take to feel okay - Unable to deal with the stress and trolling, Y/N goes home to Switzerland, cutting off Max

My reputation’s never been worse so - Y/N’s absence sparks concerns amongst those closest to her

If someone comes at us, this time I’m ready - Y/N’s friends publicly support her as the hate continues

You don’t want to know me, I will just let you down

My words shoot to kill when I’m mad - Mick and Y/N finally talk

Something in your eyes says we can beat this - Max has a tough start to an important weekend, but his luck is about to change

(We) saw something the can’t take away - Y/N is there as Max wins at Monza and breaks another record

This is life before you know who you’re gonna be - Netizens discuss Max and Y/N’s enemy era

20 questions, we tell the truth - Y/N catches up with her followers after a hectic couple of weeks, and meets a man in Monaco

On a Wednesday, in a café - Y/N’s podcast with Daniel leads to some interesting revelations

Do you really want to know where I was? - Y/N and Max spend a day at the factory as rumours begin to swirl

I make it look oh so easy - Y/N and Max choose different confidants as they both attempt to avoid the elephant in the room

You’ll find me on my tallest tiptoes - It gets harder for Y/N to keep her secret

Slow motion, double vision in rose blush - Y/N gets back in the saddle while Max watches from the sidelines in more ways than one

Carnations you had thought were roses - Two of Y/N’s secrets are revealed

Didn’t it all seem new and exciting - Max leaves Y/N behind in Monaco as she reflects on her date

Loose lips sink ships all the damn time - Y/N heads to Switzerland for a special appointment as her relationship with Max is put under a microscope

I don’t wanna miss you like this - Y/N and Max deal with the distance between them differently

Your finger on my hairpin trigger - Tensions run high as Max has a bad day on track and Y/N gets defensive

Takes one to know one - Y/N’s much needed talk with Elliot is interrupted by an explosive qualifying in Singapore

I want to tell you not to get lost in these petty things - Max’s streak comes to an end and he and Y/N look ahead to Suzuka

Forever going with the flow, but you’re friction - Max asking Y/N to fly out early to Japan leads to tension and Y/N turns to Daniel for advice

I drive down different roads - Fans, and Y/N, speculate about her budding relationship

(They) knew what it was, he is in love - Netizens set out to prove that Max is in love with Y/N

(We) counted days, I counted miles, to see you there - Y/N arrives in Japan and is reunited with Max

Balancing on breaking branches - Max receives an unexpected delivery as Y/N answers questions from the media and her mother

It’s you and me, there’s nothing like this - As Max gets back to business as usual in Suzuka, wag social media does it’s thing

My (baby flies) like a jet stream - Max has a good day on track and Y/N’s Vogue article goes live

I can read you like a magazine - The internet reacts to mentions of Max in Y/N’s Vogue article

He’s passing by, rare as a glimmer of a comet in the sky - Red Bull securing the WCC is overshadowed by the revelation that Max hates podcasts

The lingering question(s) kept me up - Y/N does an Instagram Q&A

I just may like some explanations - Y/N answers more questions

How you held me in your arms that September night, the first time you ever saw me cry - Set in 2017, we learn what led to Y/N’s dad being dropped as Max’s sponsor, early in their friendship

People started talking, putting us through our paces - When Y/N is spotted out with Elliot, Instagram, Max, and Lando react

I don’t wanna touch you - Y/N finds herself short of breath on her padel date. Later, she appears on Max’s stream

(I) will never make my parents’ mistakes - Y/N’s dad hears about her dating life, and her mother weighs in

Drinking on a (yacht) with you all over me - Y/N and Max kick of his birthday celebrations with a day on the water, while Elliot changes his tune

I’d pick you up and we’d go back in time - Y/N and Max bring in his birthday somewhere special

We’re gonna be timeless - It’s Max’s birthday, but Y/N isn’t the only one planning surprises

Take the moment and taste it - Max enjoys a birthday boat day with family and friends, and Vic makes an accidental discovery

There’s glitter on the floor after the party - It’s the morning after night before. Max and Vic discuss Y/N’s letter

Movin’ on was always easy for me to do - Y/N and Elliot meet up to talk and Y/N’s friend weighs in. Y/N’s tweets irritate Max

Your eyes look like (being at) home - Y/N goes riding, Lando proposes plans, and Max has plans of his own

No I didn’t hear the news, ‘cause we were somewhere else - Max and Y/N arrive in Doha, but rumours about Max’s Monaco exploits follow them

You heard the rumours from (your friends) - Max attends Media Day while Y/N hangs out with an old friend

‘Cause they don’t know about the night in the hotel - Max’s GQ interview exposes an interesting part of Max and Y/N’s past

I was dancing around, dancing around it - Y/N and Clara celebrate Max’s on track triumphs

(You) stand up, champion tonight - Max becomes a three time world champion

This life is sweeter than fiction - Max wins in Qatar in a physically gruelling race

Life makes love look hard - Back in Monaco, Y/N is seen out with Elliot, and he makes a bold suggestion

Can we always be this close? - Y/N and Max have a chill day at home and while Twitter notice Max made an admission in an interview, Y/N makes an admission to Victoria

Inescapable, I’m not even gonna try - Y/N and Max spend a day at the factory, where both realise they may have something to work on

You go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to me - Y/N’s podcast with Oscar comes out, on the same day she finally films one with Max. Meanwhile, Max uses the sim in an unconventional way

Yes, I remember what you said last night - Y/N’s plans for COTA baffle Christian, and Y/N learns an unexpected fact about the past

Take out, then take me home - Y/N prepares for Austin, and an interview with Max comes out

Love’s a game, wanna play? - Y/N tries her hand at padel after watching Max compete, and Max steams with Redline

Rosé flowing with your chosen family - Clara and Y/N spend the day together, and Clara becomes determined to finish what she started in 2017

(We are) a flight risk, with a fear of falling - Y/N and Max head to the US

Ain’t it funny, rumours fly - Y/N heads to a Ferrari gala as rumours swirl about Max’s next career move amid reports of infighting at Red Bull

As if I don’t already see (it) - The circus settles in to Texas and Y/N’s dad weighs in on Elliot

Can you see right through me? - Y/N and Elliot make a king and awkward paddock debut

I’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night - Y/N sheds light on her dating history while she and Elliot struggle to adjust to life in the paddock

It’s morning now, it’s brighter now - Y/N reaches out to an old friend for support. Meanwhile, Daniel tries to support Max

The moment I could see it - Max takes another win in Austin while Elliot reaches his breaking point

You’ll find the real thing instead - Y/N and Elliot have an honest conversation

In the name of being honest - Bonus part where Y/N answers Instagram questions after the Austin GP

I’m asking you why - More of Y/N’s post Austin Q&A

You’ve got a girl at home and everybody knows that - Y/N and Max are suspects in the wildest paddock rumour yet as they wrap up their trip to Austin

You learn my secrets and you figure out why I’m guarded - Y/N gets brutally honest with Mick as Max plays goalkeeper twice

You saw the truth in me - Max cuts it close before media day as reports surface of security threats in Mexico

They tell you that you’re lucky, but you’re so confused - Max attends a gruelling media day as Y/N deals with the heat of Mexico

Laughing with (your head in my) lap, like you were my closest friend - Everyone has a tough quali day

This is the golden age - Maxico delivers another win, and Y/N celebrates with tequila

(You would never) me darling, but who could stay? - Y/N and Max arrive in Brazil for a short break before the race

No one has to know what we do - Max and Y/N fall off the map and enjoy some private time

I can’t say anything to your face - Max and Y/N continue to leave each other flustered and Max starts press for the Brazilian GP

The way you move is like a full on rainstorm - Max takes pole in difficult conditions and Y/N gets near her breaking point

We were cards sharks, playing games - Max wins the sprint and Y/N wins games of her own

🚨I’ve had to add a second masterlist for all posts after this point. That can be found here 🚨

[buurmanuitwien]

lfde

famous!reader x joost

fem!reader x joost

description: you and joost made the mutual decision to keep their relationship private and out of the public eye when you started dating. many years down the road, joost leaves a surprising comment on an edit of you. chaos ensues.

//very fluffy, like tooth rotting, angst if you look under a microscope

word count: 1.7k

WARNING: RPF FANFICTION AHEAD

No one knew the two of you were dating, in fact, the public viewed both of you as chronically single. The decision to keep your relationship private was made due to both of your sizable fanbases. Each of you were famous in your own rite, but both of you knew both the joys and struggles of being in the public eye. False rumors, creepy fans, and little privacy was enough to make the decision an easy one. 

At the time.

Over the years, as you and Joost finally realized that you were it for each other, no doubt about it, you started to feel the pull to express your love for him publicly. Your 5 year anniversary was the hard, your poor friends following your finsta were bombarded with photos of the two of you. But the part of you that wanted to let the world know that Joost was yours, and has always been yours, was still clawing away at you.

However, you knew Joost. He was a (your) wonderful, loving, kind, fun guy. But he also was anxious, guarded. He kept the things he loved close to him as if they’d slip away at a moment's notice, and he was right to think that opening a relationship up to the public eye would change things.  You agree, but you also think that you're at the place in your relationship where you could withstand pretty much anything. You didn’t know if Joost would agree though, and you didn’t ask.

So imagine your surprise that one morning. You wake up, sun bathing the room in a light glow as your bedroom’s curtains hang stiffly in their daytime positions. The spot next to you in bed is unfortunately cold. You sigh, disappointed but not surprised. His album was very close to being done, and you knew how he got when the finish line was in sight. 

You reach to your nightstand to grab your phone, only to be met with something slimy. You yelp in surprise to see your fingers are covered in grape jelly. You turn to see a plate of toast, a cup of water, and a note laying on your nightstand.

sorry lfde,

tantu coming in early 4 finishing touches. i’ll bring home the usb, you’ll love it. also, i made breakfast B)

ik hou van je lieverd

joost :p

You grinned cheesily at the note, gently folding it up and placing it in the top drawer. You had accidentally started collecting them– you couldn’t help it! You loved everything about the notes, from Joost's messy scrawl, him drawing out text emojis, to him being too lazy to spell out “liefde” and shortening it to “lfde” (a very common thing for him to do, but it’s okay, you think it’s hilarious). It’s all so very endearing and so very Joost. Not to mention the also knowing the project he had put all his time and effort into was finally going to be shared with you. He had yet to tell you much about it, you didn’t even know the title. 

You surveyed the toast before taking the plate into your hand. As you were taking your first bite, you turned on your phone. 8:18? Not bad, especially for a Friday. 26 various missed calls and 47 texts? Very bad, for literally any time. Your friends had called you a bunch, and spam texted. “WTF why didn’t u tell me u were spillin” and “do u know he did this” were a few that stuck out. As you frantically scrolled through your notifs, desperately trying to figure out what had gone on, you reached the last two notifications. Second to last was Apson, who left a simple “You’re cooked”.

Last was Joost, at 4 in the morning no less. He had woken up that early? He sent a link to a Tiktok, and said “damn.”  You clicked the link to the Tiktok, and you can honestly say you were surprised.

Now, with a fanbase comes fan edits. You know this. As narcissistic as it may be, you watch a few of the ones that make you look like a badass when you need an ego boost. You rarely watch, however, the thirst ones. Of yourself at least, Joost is a different story. But here you were, watching a spliced video of you at an event where you decided to wear a particularly revealing outfit. You giggled like a child a bit at the thought that Joost saw it, watched it, but then your eyes drifted to the bottom left corner of the screen. 

“Joost reposted”

You inhaled sharply. Has anyone besides your friends noticed? You ran to the comment section to see. Accidentally doing yourself in, you read the top comment.

Joost: smash

[Liked by creator]

You stared frozen at the screen for a moment before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. You could be pissed at him, really you could. You could shoot him a text right now about the logistics of how to go about this and such– or you could take it as a challenge. You bit your lip and reopened your messages.

You: oooh u wanna play this game?

You were happy to see the text bubble pop up within the minute.

Joost: if you up me i will up you two times ᕙ(  •̀ ᗜ •́  )ᕗ

Alright, bet. You had envisioned soft launching him more times than you could count, so opening Instagram and making a story was almost muscle memory. You inserted a photo of him and the comically oversized stuffed bears he got you for your first anniversary and began cropping. It ended up only being two bears with Joost’s legs and arm in the photo but still– his tattoo was visible. If you knew what to look for, you knew. And now, people were looking. You added the Beatles “Here Comes the Sun” in the back and hit post to the story.

Five minutes later:

Joost: oke so we’re doing this 

An additional five minutes later:

Joost: check tiktok

Tikok? Okay. Chances are, he was not lying about upping you. You opened the app immediately, as excited as a child opening Christmas gifts. You watched his latest video, eyes glued to the screen. It’s old, probably taken two or three years ago, and it starts with Joost's face filling the entire screen. His expression blank, he slowly pans the camera out and up as a remix of ZIPLOC by Tyler the Creator and 4:44 by Jay-Z played, revealing his head on your lower stomach and your thighs resting over his shoulders. You gasped as the camera pans to show your face, and video-you proceed to stick your tongue out playfully and snake your hand into his hair to give him a playful ruffle. His face erupts in glee, and the video replays.

He’d fucking done it. Both of your faces were fully in that, fully visible!  There was no way anyone could mistake you as anything but his, and him as anyone but yours. You rolled around in bed, overflowing from happiness, before sitting straight up and snatching back your phone. Sure this was cute, but you couldn’t let him win. Okay, time to reopen Instagram. A main post to a platform with double digit million followers oughta do the trick! You selected a recent photo of the two of you. You’d taken it on a digital camera, on the couch of a friend's apartment during a get together. You have one wired earbud in your left ear, and Joost has the other in his right. Joost is dead asleep, his head resting on your shoulder, eyes peacefully shut. Your head is resting on his, your face smiling sweetly into the camera. You shakily copy and paste “oke so we’re doing this” and let out a small chuckle before hitting post and instantly chucking your phone across the room.

The nerves have hit you. This was dumb, so dumb,  and god you’d be lucky if your PR manager didn’t kill you. But also, it cannot be that bad right? Right?

--

It can. Nine long hours have passed since you’ve posted the photo and Joost hasn’t acknowledged it. Didn’t like it, didn’t comment, didn’t reply to your taunting “haha i win” text. Nothing. Radio silence. Your friends have been blowing up your phone but you won’t reply yet. You won’t make any other moves until Joost makes his. 

You stare at your phone screen, waiting for something, anything to happen. Jesus christ, thank FUCK it does. Spotify shockingly sends the notification:

An Artist You Follow Just Dropped!

Joost just dropped an album! Listen now on Spotify.

He did what?? You quickly check his social media and right on his story: an album cover with the text “album three months early. no promotion. i win.”

What. Did. This. Bastard. Do. You run to Spotify, and hit play. The opening track starts to play and… what the fuck? You knew he was experimenting with other music styles. He’d told you about trying to lean more emo on a track, and the sheer amount of My Chemical Romance he played while making it made you feel as though you were back in middle school. But this was so soft, shockingly so for Joost’s recent style. And then there are the lyrics. It was very Paul Mccartney-esque, with two characters' love story being told over the course of the song. While Lelie and… Grug’s tale was incredibly over the top and dramatic, the chorus was very different. The way Grug spoke about Lelie was poetic and gentle, true love pouring from every word. You listen in shock because, this… this was the Joost you got on Saturday mornings, sappy and sweet. You click on the song see the title: lfde

You let out a noise of pure shock and glee right as you hear the door to your apartment slam. “I win! I win ! I win, I win, I win!” Joost chants, and you leap up to meet him. 

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

a/n: ADDING THIS PART A MONTH AFTER POST WHOOPS THIS IS THE TIKTOJ TREND I WAS REFFERING TO fully wrote this with reader being an f1 driver in mind. just thought id share. also forgive me for bad grammar / punctuation or anything of the sort english is not my first language LOL. i also ihave another version of this that ends differently so if anyone wants that lmk!! n i take requests :P