#focs

[bisexuallyattractivebitch]

Ughhhh I loved this so much!!!!!

Sooooooo gooodd (and sexy asf!)

tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

*

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as  he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents  prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

[sardies]

Focs de Sant Joan: Alghero città dell’amicizia e della fratellanza

Alghero. I Focs di Sant Joan con il grande falò sulla spiaggia emozionano, avvolgono e catturano il pubblico di candidati e candidate (rigorosamente vestiti di bianco), ma non solo, coinvolgendoli in ogni momento del rito. I Focs di Alghero sono organizzati dalla Pro Loco Alghero Riviera del Corallo con il contributo di Comune di Alghero, Alghero Turismo, Regione Autonoma della Sardegna,…

[dana-sculy]

[himluv]

To the people complaining that Lucanis *couldn't* be a virgin because Crows are trained to use seduction and sex on contracts...

The game straight up tells us that Lucanis did not train like a typical Crow. You can talk to Heir and they tell you that Lucanis was basically an assassin prodigy and was not trained by them.

(they also say that Jacobus reminds them of Lucanis, which I think tells us a lot about young, Fledgling Lucanis!)

Caterina trained Lucanis specifically to hunt and kill mages. He is incredibly acrobatic and stealthy, for getting close to and killing mages. His stubbornness/determination was also probably honed, because it would be harder to control his mind, even with blood magic. He fights back. (As Lucanis says, he doesn't quit - which... Man, Caterina did not think that through 😂 )

He is a specialist, one of the most lethal (and expensive!) assassins in the entire organization. He hasn't had time (or interest) in sex before being romanced by Rook, because he's the best and busy. And because, pssst...

He's demisexual.

And at this point the only reason I can think of that makes this hard to grasp is that some people really wanted their suave, Latin Lover stereotype. And instead they got a tender-hearted caregiver, with big wet eyes and a caffeine addiction, who REALLY just wants to be cuddled to sleep.

If you can't fall in love with that Lucanis (the one we got!)... Idk, man. Skill issue.

[fishdance]

a bunch of traditional media tf doodles taken with my ipotato 4 many years ago

[stevesbipanic]

Eddie gets stuck in a time loop but has no idea why, his day is normal, there's not even a test that day that he can use this to pass. After a few time loops he says fuck it let's start doing fun things, starting with talking to his crush, the lovely Fallen King Steve. After a few loops Steve starts talking back, soon there's whole loops with just them hanging out.

Little does Eddie know, Steve is in a time loop too trying to stop the Upside Down once again, he's just having a hard time caring when there's this sweet metalhead chatting him up everyday. Maybe he deserves to waste a few loops.

[excarow]

Damian being raised to see himself only as a weapon and later being taught that he's more than that VS Tim being raised to see himself only as a tool and being reinforced of that belief by the same people that taught Damian to love himself is such a good parallel holy shit.

Like, both of them were told that they had to have Purpose™ by their parents, but only one was later told that he could be loved for the sake of being loved while the other was only proved that his parents were right.

[motorsportbarbie13]

Hurricane - Part 2

{“Sometimes,” Max continues when she remains silent, “people just genuinely want to help. There are no strings attached. Not with me. I just don’t want you stressing about money on top of everything else you’re dealing with.” I want to take care of you. Let me take care of you. The words die on his lips because he knows they’re too much. Too much too fast and he doesn’t want to scare her off.}

warnings/notes: talk of toxic/unsupportive parents, maybe some swearing? As always, thank you to @lestapiastrisgirl for always letting me yap about stupid plot ideas and being the voice of reason when I get too unhinged 😂❤️ pairing: max verstappen x emma meyer (OC) word count: 5.4k (oops)

hurricane master list main master list ask me anything

“Max, I am not using your credit card while you’re gone.” Emma hisses, standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on her hips as she glares at Max Wednesday morning.  

From his seat at the kitchen counter across from her, Max narrows his eyes at the tiny blonde, genuinely surprised at the sass coming from her mouth. He’d never really quite understood why some people were so opposed to allowing him to take care of them but in his experience, it was generally those people who needed it the most. 

The corner of his mouth tips up and when Emma sees it, her eyes go molten. “Stop smirking at me like you’re going to ignore anything I have to say and do whatever you want anyway.” 

“But I am going to ignore anything you say and do whatever I want anyway. Which includes leaving you my credit card while stealing all of yours.” 

Emma’s eyes go wide with horror when Max reaches across the counter and plucks her wallet out of the top of her bag. “Max!” She yelps, reaching unsuccessfully for the faded black leather billfold that held all of her credit cards and cash. “I can’t…” 

“Can’t what?” He asks, slipping the heavy black card into the front slot while shuffling the other cards around. He sees the panic in her eyes when his fingers brush against the silver and gold cards already there and decides not to push it too far, leaving them untouched instead of making good on his threat. “Can’t grab some groceries because my fridge is empty? Can’t treat yourself to a nice dinner or three while I’m gone?”

“I can’t use your credit card.” She says, eyes fixed on the marble counter that separated her from Max. The words held such weight it felt near impossible to lift her gaze to meet Max’s, even though she could feel the press of his attention pushing heavily into her. 

“Can’t or won’t?” Max challenges, lifting his coffee cup to his lips. 

Emma lifts her eyes to glare at Max then, struggling to keep from rolling them at him. Picking up her wallet, she fishes out the black card Max had just slipped in there and tosses it back on the counter. “I will not be using your credit card, Max Verstappen.” 

Max peers at Emma from over the rim of his cup, brow quirked. This sass was a side of Emma he was unfamiliar with but he didn’t hate it. Not at all. Tucking away that little bit of Emma that he wants to mull over later tonight, he sets his coffee cup down. “Why not? It’s not like you asked me. I’m offering. You need things, right? Need to eat? Until you figure out your next steps…” He trails off, gesturing vaguely with his free hand. 

“I’ll figure it out myself.” The words come out sharper than she intends and she winces at how rude she sounds. She can’t help it though. The ingrained mantra, the survival mechanism she’d relied on for years, echoes inside her head and it sounds a lot like her mother: “Figure it out yourself Emma. Don’t be such a burden to everyone. You need to grow up.” 

The stubbornness in her voice has something stirring wildly in Max’s chest. Another thing to mull over tonight. 

Max leans against the counter, his expression softening as it dawns on him that this is something a bit more deeper than just refusing the kindness of a friend. “Hey,” He says gently, more serious now that he sees how distressed this is making her. “No one is expecting you to figure it all out overnight. You just had the rug ripped out from under you two days ago, it’s okay to not know where you’re going to go next. I’m just trying to help, okay?” 

“I know.” Emma mumbles, sliding her fingers through her hair before gathering it up in a ponytail. “I’m just-” She pauses, eyes flicking away from Max’s intense blue eyes. She hated how they pinned her to the spot so easily, reading her like she was an open book, making butterflies stir in ways that she knew was very dangerous. “I’m just not used to it.”

Emma’s admission was small, a tiny crack in the walls she held so solidly in place to protect herself from the outside world, but Max caught onto it so quick. He was good at reading racing lines and telemetry reports, but people were usually a different story. He never really much cared about what other people thought, how they felt, how he made them feel. It took up too much time and space in his head and he just couldn’t find it in him to care, not when there were more important things to focus on. Like winning world championships. 

But with Emma it was different. 

Every shift in her posture, every dip of her brow, they all meant something to him and he felt like he was going a little crazy every time he oriented himself to her presence the last two days. 

“Not used to people helping you?” He asked, gaze intently fixed on those pretty dove grey eyes that he’d been thinking of all last night. He sensed something deeper was going on here, the visceral rejection of his offer spoke of something more at play and anxiety thrummed deep in Max’s gut at the thought of what, or who, had caused her to react like this. 

Emma’s fingers twisted the twists of gold that decorated her right hand. A fleeting, unpleasant memory surfaced, completely unbidden: the humiliation of her parents yelling at her back in secondary school after she had needed to ask a friend to borrow a few Euros for lunch on a school trip because she had forgotten her wallet in her locker. Her father had been incensed when he found out about it, raving at her for nearly an hour the evening she had come home and asked for a few bills to pay her friend back.

 “You were begging your friends for money? Now everyone is going to think we’re poor and can’t afford to send you on school trips! Why are you always so irresponsible?” 

The shame of her mistake and embarrassment of humiliating her family so publicly still lingered all these years later. 

“It’s…complicated.” Emma says, voice low. “I was always taught that relying on others just leads to trouble. You end up owing them or they hold it over you as leverage. It’s just easier to do it yourself.” 

Max watched as the memory took hold of her right there in the kitchen. He didn’t know what the memory was but he could tell it hadn’t been a pleasant one. The discomfort she felt at his offer was evident in the way she shifted her body away from him, shoulders hunched in on themselves. He could tell there was a deeper story here, a reason the fiery blonde in front of him was so fiercely independent. 

It was almost as if she was allergic to kindness. 

“Not everyone operates like that, Em.” Max says softly. 

Emma’s eyes flick up at the nickname, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Only Victoria ever called her Em. 

And now Max. 

“Sometimes,” Max continues when she remains silent, “people just genuinely want to help. There are no strings attached. Not with me. I just don’t want you stressing about money on top of everything else you’re dealing with.” 

I want to take care of you. Let me take care of you.

The words die on his lips because he knows they’re too much. Too much too fast and he doesn’t want to scare her off. 

“I don’t want to be a burden, Max.” Emma confesses, the words tumbling out before she has a chance to stop them. The ingrained fear, the constant awareness of being an inconvenience to everyone around her, bubbles to the surface so violently, goosebumps erupt all over his skin. 

 A flicker of something unreadable crosses Max’s face. It looks a bit like understanding colored with a touch of sadness. Like he knows exactly what she’s talking about from first hand experience. 

He leans forward just fraction of an inch closer to Emma, not taking his eyes off of her. 

“You are not a burden. You could never be a burden.” To me, he finishes in his head. “You just need a little help right now and that’s not the end of the world. Just…consider it. Even if it’s just for the small things. A coffee and some groceries, maybe? Whatever you need.” 

Max didn’t press further, just turned around and walked towards his bedroom quietly to finish packing, leaving Emma behind to stare at the card like it might just explode if she even touches it. 

But when Max returns a while later, suitcase for the next few days trailing behind him, he notices the card isn’t on the counter anymore. 

The silence in Max’s apartment stretched, thick and unbroken. It was a jarring change from the noise of the home she had spent the last three weeks living in and while it was somewhat unsettling. Now, it was only the gentle ticking of the clock in the living room that filled the quiet. The first thing she had noticed this morning when she woke up was how delicious the silence sounded, soft and unfocused as she laid in bed, still and quiet, for a over an hour after she had woken up. 

But now, the afternoon stretched out before her, the novelty of having the expansive apartment all to herself until Saturday evening had worn off. A nervous, restless energy replaced it and as Emma sat on the couch flicking through the endless streaming services Max subscribed to, she was itching for something to do, someone to talk to. 

Sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating the subtle disarray Max had left in his wake. It wasn’t dirty per say, not really messy either. There was just a distinctly masculine lack of meticulousness that left the apartment feeling slightly chaotic, slightly unhinged and most definitely in need of some organization. 

Needing to busy her hands, Emma found herself moving around the apartment absentmindedly tidying the pile of racing magazines here, dusting the surfaces of the racing sim station Max had tucked away in a corner, just trying to make sense out of the quiet chaos. It was a way to occupy her hands, to allow her to feel useful during her stay in this borrowed space, while allowing her mind a chance to wander, to try to figure out what her next move was going to be. 

Shortly after finishing organizing the cords around Max’s sim rig, Emma’s phone rings. She smiles when she sees Victoria’s name flashing across the screen. 

“Hi, bestie.” Victoria’s cheerful voice fills the quiet apartment. “How is Chalet Verstappen treating you?” 

Emma chuckles as she pads over to the overstuffed couch she’d spent too long on already. “It’s…quiet. And surprisingly unorganized. I would have expected more out of a Verstappen.” 

Victoria laughed on the other end of the phone. “He certainly missed Jos’ penchant for an immaculate house, didn’t he? If it weren’t for the house keepers he has come every other week, it would be so much worse. Anyway, I didn’t call to talk about my dumb brother. What are you up to? Plotting your next move?” 

Emma sighed, tugging the gray cashmere blanket up over her legs. It only took a few moments but as she settled back, sinking into the plush cushions, Jimmy hopped up into her lap. Max had warned her his two cats might be a bit standoffish when she first arrived on Monday night. But to everyone’s surprise Jimmy and Sassy took to Emma instantly.

Even now, with Max gone, the two bengals didn’t seem to miss Max quite as much as he had warned her they would.

“I don’t know. I’m trying.” She scratched at the fur behind Sassy’s ear as the other bengal cat came to sit on the back of the couch, cuddled up into her neck. “I don’t think I want to come home.” 

Victoria is silent for a moment, letting the words hang in the air. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Emma rasped, knowing Victoria would be sad to not have her so close by. “You know how my parents are. It’ll be nothing but ‘I told you so’s’ for the next decade. I don’t think I could handle that right now, Vic.” 

“I know.” Victoria says softly. “They were never your biggest cheerleaders, huh?” 

“Understatement of the century.” Emma mutters, running her fingers over Jimmy’s smooth back. “They thought leaving my teaching job was insane enough. This whole nannying fiasco will just confirm all their worst opinions of me.” 

“You were so unhappy teaching though, that’s not a moral failure.” Victoria reminds her. Out of all of Emma’s friends, it was Victoria who had had a front row seat to how her parents had treated her growing up. Sometimes it had felt like Emma spent more time with Victoria at the Verstappen household than she did at her own growing up. 

“Miserable.” Emma corrected. “I was totally miserable. The kids were sweet, I loved that part of the job. Seeing their eyes light up when they finally grasped a new concept. But the endless grading? The politics between the parents and admin? It was just too much.” Emma pauses, hand skating over Jimmy’s velvet ears as he napped on her lap. “I felt like I was slowly suffocating.” 

“So they wanted you to stay in a place that was killing you?” Victoria challenged, knowing that Emma would use her last breath to defend her parents despite them barely wanting to spare her a second glance most of the time. 

“They want stability for me, even if how they execute it is a little…misguided.” 

On the other end, Victoria sighed but didn’t argue, knowing that Emma was so close to getting away from the toxic home life. 

“I just don’t want to go home and have to be subjected to the hours long lectures of ‘we told you so’ and ‘what are you going to do now that you’ve managed to fail again?’ Because Vic, I don’t even know what my next move is and I’ve been thinking about nothing else since Monday night.” 

 “So if not home, then what?” Victoria asked gently. “Have you thought about staying in Monaco? Maybe looking for another job there?” 

Emma hesitated. The thought of staying in the city despite the last 3 miserable weeks with her nanny family was somewhat appealing. It was certainly better than the alternative option that felt like her only way out. “I don’t know. It feels…scary. Staying here with no sense of direction? But the thought of going back home and facing them is almost worse.” 

“Okay.” Victoria says slowly. “You don’t have to make any rash decisions right now. You’re safe at Max’s for the next few days. He’s goin until what, Saturday?” 

Emma nodded despite Victoria being unable to see her. “Yeah, Saturday evening is what he said.” 

“Perfect. Use this time to breathe. Maybe look at some job postings? I can put some feelers out to the people I know in Monaco, maybe someone has an opening for you. If all else fails I’m sure you could find some families that are looking for a piano tutor.” 

Emma’s heart rate ratcheted up as she let out a nervous laugh. “My piano playing days are long over, Vic. You know that. It’s been years.” 

Emma’s mother had put her in piano lessons the day she had turned 5 years old, insisting that music helped bring out the genius in children. What she hadn’t expected was Emma falling in love with music instead of using it as a means to be better at math. She loved every bit of the piano: learning new pieces, exploring the way it made her feel. In time it became her outlet, the way she expressed herself. Sitting at the piano had been her refuge growing up. It had been her escape, the only place where she could lose herself and sooth out the anxious noise in her brain that was brought on by the criticisms of her parents. 

Emma had begged for singing lessons for 12th birthday one year and had been denied. It wasn’t a worthy enough pursuit, her parents said. There was no way she’d ever make it as a professional musician, she wasn’t good enough and it wasn’t a practical career, so there was no sense in paying for lessons anymore. 

Her parents sold the piano the year Emma turned 16. 

She hadn’t played since. 

“Max still has that piano in his living room, doesn’t he?” Victoria asked, a hint of mischief in her voice. 

Emma glanced toward the far corner of the living room where a sleek, black grand piano stood, it’s polished surface flaming in the afternoon light. It looked expensive. Untouched. 

“I don’t know. It already feels like I’m intruding in on his space as it is. I don’t want to insert myself even further into his life.” 

“He wouldn’t mind, Em. Trust me. He’s got more money than he knows what to do with and he’s genuinely a good guy. Besides, who knows? Maybe it’ll spark something. You were always so talented when it came to music. I was always so jealous.” 

A flicker of longing stirred in Emma’s chest as she continued to stare at the piano across the room. The memory of her fingers dancing across the keys, the release she found in the music, how she felt when she finally got a particularly challenging piece nailed finally, those warm and comforting memories wrapped around her, encouraging her to stand up and approach the piano that seemed to be calling her name now. 

“Maybe.” She murmured, bare feet padding across the hardwood floor of Max’s living room. 

There was no sheet music anywhere to be found and the keys themselves looked to be a little dusty. She tapped one of them, pressing down so softly only a soft note sounded from the instrument. The tone sounded off, not significantly so but Emma knew. She knew that the piano hadn’t been played in ages probably, that it needed a good tuning, but she’d handle that later. 

“Just think about it.” Victoria’s voice gently pulled her back to the present. “No pressure. Just give yourself permission to breathe. You don’t have to have all the answers now.” 

The conversation ended shortly after with Victoria promising to call tomorrow morning to check in. Emma stayed where she was long after she hung up though, just standing in front of the piano, finger tips barely brushing the ivory keys. It was almost as if she was afraid to really touch it, to bring that kind of happiness back into her life. She was afraid if she allowed that sort of thing in again, it would break her when she inevitably had to give it up. Emma had given up enough already and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to survive another heartbreak. 

Max slotted the key into the lock, the click echoing in the quiet hallway outside his apartment door. He had intended to stay in Milton Keynes until Saturday evening, placating Horner and Marko and their requests he show his steady presence at the Red Bull Racing headquarters after a rocky start to the season for the team. 

The meetings at HQ had been a masterclass in PR spin, something Red Bull was endlessly good at. It was a carefully orchestrated attempt to quell the impending media storm and fan backlash. Liam, while being a talented driver in his own right, had been shuffled back to the sister team. Max was in disagreement with the move and he had made his thoughts on the subject known pre and post China but in the end, it had been Christian’s call. Max understood the team’s desperation for consistent points and view that Liam wasn’t living up to the expectations, but the way they had done it, the brutal way they had only given Liam 2 races to settle in before making such a drastic move, didn’t sit well with Max. 

And the sim time he’s been wanting to get in while he’d been in the UK? An absolute joke. He’d barely gotten an hour in the seat between the endless strategy debates and his PR obligations. The car still felt like a temperamental beast, unpredictable and frustrating from one setup to the next. 

It was driving him crazy. 

So, Max had cut his losses, mumbled an excuse about needing to be back in Monaco a day early, and had practically sprinted to his jet. He wanted nothing more than to spend the next few nights alone, in his own bed, before he had to leave again for a brutal triple header. 

He’d expected quiet when he’d arrived home. Craved the comfort and anonymity he had when he was alone inside those walls. Max knew Emma was still there but the thought of going home with her waiting for him didn’t bother him as much as he’d thought. Having been raised by a father who preached about making sure to stay unattached during the height of his career had left a mark on Max. He shied away form deep human connection more often than not and so the fact that he didn’t mind Emma staying with him for a bit longer was a little foreign to him. A little unsettling. 

As Max pushed the door open, a hauntingly beautiful melody drifted towards him from the living room. It was slow, melancholic, each note seemed to carry a profound sense of longing with it as it floated towards him. He couldn’t quite place the song, but he could feel the deep sadness resonating throughout the apartment. There was a quiet outpouring of something intensely personal coming from the piano sitting in the corner of his living room and as Max stood just inside the doorway, he fought the urge to slip right back out of the apartment. He felt like he was intruding on something. 

Something pulled him towards the living room though and he moved silently, not wanting to disturb Emma if it really was her playing his long-neglected piano. When he reached the archway to the living room, he stopped, mesmerized by the scene before him. 

Emma sat at his grand piano, facing away from him. Her posture was slightly hunched, her blond hair tumbling down around her shoulders in loose waves. Her head was bowed, tilted forward just a bit so she could make out the notes on the sheet music in front of her. 

Her fingers moved across the keys with a delicate grace that spoke towards the raw emotion in the music. Each note seemed to resonate with a deep sense of sadness, a quiet outpouring of something intensely personal. Max watched on, captivated, as Emma worked through the piece bit by torturous bit. He could almost feel the weight of her unspoken anxieties, the demons of her past that she was still fighting with today, all of it woven into the fabric of the melody she was making. 

Max couldn’t see her face but there was a telltale tremor in her shoulders, a subtle catch in the rhythm of the music that suggested she was not only wrestling with her demons but fighting back tears as well. There weren’t any loud, wrenching sobs. Instead, Emma’s posture trembled with the kind of silent, heart wrenching tears that spoke of a soul laid completely bare. 

The final notes of the piece hung in the air, fading slowly into the quiet hum of the Monaco evening that filtered through the closed windows. Emma’s fingers lingered on the keys for a few moments, the silence that slipped through the apartment amplifying the unsteady rhythm of her labored breathing. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until the last few chords but the hot tears that traced silent paths down her cheeks reminded her how much she’d lost in the last few years. The melody of one of her favorite pieces, so achingly beautiful and filled with a gentle sorrow, had somehow unlocked a dam inside her, releasing a tsunami of long buried, deeply guarded feelings. 

With a shaky sigh, she finally lifted her hands from the piano, the sudden stillness that blanketed the living room, felt almost jarring. Reaching up to swipe at her eyes with the back of her hand, she turned slightly to see where Jimmy and Sassy had wandered to while she had been occupied elsewhere. 

It was then that she caught sight Max. 

He was sitting on the large sofa across the room, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his head resting against the back cushions. The dim light from a nearby lamp casting long shadows across his face but Emma could see his eyes fixed on hers, a quiet intensity shining in them as he watched her. She had been so lost in the music, so consumed by her own emotions, that she hadn’t even heard him come in. 

A jolt of surprise, bordering on panic, shot through her. Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected him back until late Saturday night. What was he doing here? How much had he heard? What had he seen?

“Max!” The sound of his name left her lips in a startled whisper, his unexpected arriaval making her jump. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic flight of hummingbirds wings against the sudden silence. 

She hadn’t meant for anyone to witness that raw, unguarded moments. Shame, hot and prickley, swelled in her chest, painting her cheeks a bright rosy red. 

“I’m sorry, Em. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Max replies, lifting himself off the couch before approaching her. He eyed Jimmy, who had leapt up onto the piano bench shortly after Emma had finished playing. 

That was an interesting development. Jimmy usually hated strangers. 

“You’re back early.” Emma scrambled for something, anything to say to distract herself from the intense way Max was looking at her, like he was really seeing her for the first time. 

Max lifts Jimmy off the bench before plopping him down on the floor, taking the cats place next to Emma on the piano bench. It was a short bench, really only meant for one grown adult, so his shoulder brushed hers as his fingers brushed against the sheet music sitting in front of him. 

“I wondered what that charge from the music store was last night.” He murmurs. 

“I’m sorry.” Her apology is instant, like a reflex coming as easy to her lips as breathing. 

Max peers at her then, liking the way the blush colors her cheeks but wishing that it was him making her blush and not the shame of needing help. “Don’t be.” His statement is firm, but not unkind. “I told you to use it if you needed anything and by the way that piece sounded, you needed that music.” 

It made Emma’s skin itch a bit at how Max read her so easily. She didn’t want to admit how much she liked feeling seen under his gaze. It felt dangerous, like there was a risk in remaining this close to him. Like if she allowed herself to get used to his kindness and generosity, she’d pay for it with her heart sooner rather than later. 

“I didn’t know you played.” Max says when Emma stays silent, her gaze flicking between the music in front of her and Max beside her. 

“Up until I was sixteen and then my parents decided my time was better spent elsewhere.” There was a touch of bitterness in her voice that made Max’s skin prickle. Every time he learned something about her parents, he liked them less and less. 

“Well, I’d never be able to tell you’d taken any time off. It sounded incredible.” 

Emma blushes harder and Max grins. “The piano is a touch out of tune, I’m afraid. It could have been better.” 

Max shakes his head, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t said anything to me.” He turns back to the music, flipping to the front of the piece. “Pavane pour une infante defunte” He reads out loud in perfect French before turning back to Emma with a raised brow, “Pavane for a dead princess?” 

Emma smiles sadly at the knowing glint in his eyes. There was that feeling again, that itchiness over the fact Max was so easily able to read her. Like he knew her so well already and they’d barely spent any time together. “It was the last concert piece I ever learned before…” The rest of the sentence dies on her lips. 

Max’s gaze softened. He could hear the hurt in her voice, remembering the abrupt end to something she clearly loved. The desire to call her parents up and give them a piece of his mind for ripping away something that meant so much to Emma had his fingers itching to reach for his phone. “Before they decided your time was better spent elsewhere?” He asked gently, not wanting to push but needing to understand the shadows that seemed to cling to her today.

Emma hesitated, her fingers tracing the edges of the sheet music as she leaned just a fraction of an inch closer into Max’s warmth beside her. The silence stretched between them, thick and stifling as Max waited patiently for her response. Finally, Emma lifted her gaze to meet his, a flicker of vulnerability in her dove-grey eyes. “Before they decided music was a frivolous waste of time because I wasn’t good enough to make it a career. They said I needed to focus on more…practical pursuits.” 

The word ‘practical’ fell off her tongue, bitter as ash and dripping with venom. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Max’s jaw flutter almost imperceptibly. His parents, while demanding in their own way, had always supported his passions, his desire to race cars for a living, even when it had seemed like a long shot. The idea of someone stifling such a clear talent, such a deep connection with something so beautiful, grated on him roughly. 

“Well,” He began, low and sincere, “I’m glad you decided to waste a little more time on it tonight. Even though it wasn’t a waste. It was beautiful, Emma. Really.” 

Emma’s blush deepens but this time there was a hint of something else in her expression. There was a bit of a flicker of surprised pleasure there in her eyes as she watched Max watch her. Dropping her gaze down to her hands, she flexed her fingers slightly as if her fingers were sore from playing for so long this afternoon. 

“Thank you.” She whispered so softly Max was almost sure he’d imagined it. 

Max shifted a bit, his shoulder brushing hers once again, the casual contact sending a cool shiver of pleasure down his spine. He ignored the little voice in his head that warned him to keep his distance. He shouldn’t be this interested in his little sister’s best friend. Shouldn’t care what her plans were for the future. Shouldn’t want them to include him. 

“So,” He said, turning his attention back to the sheet music, a forced lightness in his tone as he spoke. “A dead princess, huh? Bit morbid for a Friday night, don’t you think?” He shot her a teasing grin, hoping to lighten the heavy atmosphere that had settled between them. 

A small, genuine smile spread across Emma’s lips, Max’s lighthearted question chasing away some of the sadness that had clouded her features. “It’s not really about a dead princess.” She explained, tone patient. “Ravel said the title just sounded nice. It’s more about a memory, a feeling of something lost and mourning that.” 

Max nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on the slope of her nose, the high cheekbones that he dangerously loved watching go pink at the sound of his voice, the way her lips formed a perfect heart shape as she concentrated. All of these observations were dangerous but not wholly unwelcome. 

He was familiar with that sense of loss, of mourning what could have been. What should have been. What could have been. 

“Well,” Max began, his eyes meeting hers again as a new understanding passed between them in the quiet of the evening. “I’m glad you’ve found your way back to it again, Em.” 

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@alessioayla @addy-lol @changetyre @obxstiles @tvdtw4ever @joaofelixml @vickykazuya @47chickens @magnusstan @joannaln4 @nicooolsstuff @wakasays @slutforcoffein @ajordan2020 @widow-cevans @isagrace22 @simp4f1 @chertik-007vvv @mayax2o07 @scenesofobx @a-beaverhausen @glitteryturtledeer @halleest @sltwins @doesgekouwe @unknownmystery22 @honethatty12 @chaoswithus @sarahsobsession @liz140569 @sinfully-yoursss @ilove-tswizzle @lilbitchfromfaraway @irisesinthegarden @i-survived-a-shark-attack @smithieandy @fastandcurious16 @angelluv16 @sinfully-yoursss

[dragonpyre]

Bat-1-1. Brothers who judge together save lives together... or something

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

[deyna-d]

Gossip is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, but it is, of course, one of the many "unshakable" rules that can be broken.

The war left many orphans. But the clouds embroidered on A-Yuan's forehead ribbon attract attention. They did not officially recognize him as Wangji's son due to the risk of unwanted gossip and complications, but Xichen is mentally getting used to calling him his nephew. He knows that his uncle would not mind being a grandfather either.

It is a pity that the opportunity to think of himself like this arose due to terrible circumstances.

Wangji is still recovering from the disciplinary whip. They cannot keep him in seclusion forever, but the elders are still gloomy. For now, A-Yuan can visit him strictly once a week.

Xichen knows that Wangji also remembers Mother because of this.

There are moments when Xichen takes the child to Jinshi, everything seems painfully surreal. He pushes these feelings away. Their family has had enough ghosts, enough grief. Wangji will recover, will be able to spend more time with A-Yuan. Xichen silently hopes that maybe his brother will bury that man in his memory the way he couldn’t in Yiling. Despite the terrible lines of scars on his back. Despite the polite name of his practically son. Despite that unknown, but endlessly longing and loving melody of the guqin.

A-Yuan, now Lan Sizhui, is a wonderful child.

Xichen is sure that he is the only good thing that Wei Wuxian left behind.

[sardies]

Ad Alghero i Focs de Sant Joan

Alghero. Oltre 150 legami di fratellanza e amicizia sono stati suggellati dall’edizione 2024 dei Focs di Sant Joan. Ancora una volta la città di Alghero ha riproposto l’evento identitario che racconta l’inscindibile relazione di lingua, popolo e tradizioni. Sono più di 800 i km che la Flama del Canigò – grazie all’Omnium Cultural – ha percorso per rinnovare il legame simbolo di rinascita che nei…

[dana-sculy]

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

Megatron has been done already, now I, Starscream, get a Multi-Universal Height Chart done! I decided to bite the bullet and do another big one (tho none compare to the behemoths of megatron and optimus.)

Wanna hear something weird? Starscream is the ONLY (and I mean only) transformer I don't like. I have nothing against those who do like him, I can understand why you do. He's your pathetic little meow meow male wife twink man in stilettoes. I get it, I just.. don't like him... personally. Which is odd bc I have at least some level of affection for every other transformer, screamy is my only exception. Idk, anyway, here he is, and uh- enjoy.

Quick Disclaimer, if any of the images look weird, it's because I had to stitch a few separate images together to create a full body shot of the character.

Master Post

Listed Heights and Explanations below the cut.

Beast Wars 2 - ~8 feet (TFWiki, idk either, I'm never watching it)

Earthspark - ~12 feet (No Source, I got this height by first measuring Bumblebee to a barn door, then comparing Bumblebee to Optimus, then Optimus to Megatron, then Megatron to Starscream. This show does not have concrete numbers, so this is the best I can do.)

Unicron Trilogy V2&3/ENG&CYB - ~14 feet (TFWiki, for the uneducated, the Unicron Trilogy has given each of its 3 seasons separate names and 3 separate art styles. These are the designs used in Energon (S2) and Cybertron (S3). The Wiki had Cybertron's numbers but not Energon's, so for my own sanity, I decided the two were the same height.)

Gen 1 - ~16 feet (TFWiki, I love it when I don't have to put in effort)

Prime Wars - ~16 feet (No source, but it's identical to G1 so it's the same height)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~16 feet (Same thing as before, identical to G1)

Cyberverse - 18 feet (This comes from a screenshot of this video, which has the Cyberverse height chart everyone uses, though the quality of the screenshot is iffy.)

Knight/Capel-Verse - ~18 feet (We have like two scenes of this bitch and he doesn't stand normally next to anyone. I'm used my TFOne heights bc the scaling should be around the same, probably. If they ever give actual numbers I will be very happy.)

One - ~18 feet (Okay, so this movie doesn't have any actual numbers, aside for some bullshit ones from a Walmart Promotional. I've been using the Knightverse Optimus number as a baseline since these were at one point said to be vaguely canon to each other. And the Bumblebee-Optimus scaling is the same. This was so hard to get, we never get a clean level shot of Starscream next to anyone. I was able to guesstimate that he's around Soundwave's and Shockwave's height, but I can't be certain.)

Unicron Trilogy V1/Armada - 19 feet 7 inches (TFWiki, technically this is for the videogame, which is it's own branch of UT canon but I don't care. The designs are identical between the game and show.)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC/TFP/RID15 - 24 feet 7 inches (Fandom, and even if they don't cite their source, I believe it. Look- every single one of these fuckers are massive when you pay attention to the show. It's a show full of freaks.)

Animated - 25 feet 6 inches (This number actually comes from @phoenix-inanis and the glorious calculations they have done on the TFA Characters. Go check it out, because animated has literally no actual numbers -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4)

Bayverse - 31 feet (TFWiki, everyone say thank you mr. bay for making my life easy.)

Not Pictured: Unicron Trilogy Second Pallet(s) - Armada: 19 Feet 7 inches, Energon: ~14 Feet (Only the colours changed, otherwise everything else was the same so it felt dumb to include them), Unicron Trilogy Giant Starscream - Unmeasurable (look you can't make me and it's not even a number in the first place)

Here are the layers separated.

[skeptiiciizm]

Some lil apollomes doodles i made in between studies based on this one fic; In Apollo’s Healing Chair cus its so good it felt like the author was fucking me w a chainsaw but in a good way yknow. You guys should read it!

Very big warning, the fic covers a lot abt Rape. not on Apollo and Hermes but it’s heavily discussed throughout the fic, so if thats not your thing, I recommend you not to read it!

Anyway, I think what I love most abt the fic is how intimacy plays out between Apollo and Hermes! The way their banter plays out and yet they’re so gentle w each other, especially Apollo, it’s my favourite!! Their dynamic feels so casual yet deep I feel like I need to give them a room. The way Hermes’ character is written is my favourite too! The way he uses humor to cope w his problems, yet still crumbled when he’s not able to wit his way to his emotions, LOVE IT! Kudos to the author, definitely one of my fav fics of all time!

[cyndavilachase]

Been replaying some Starfox games

[wawe-z]

All in Due Time: Sonic AU Introduction