#What a gentile child

[unopenablebox]

ok. i must know. did any of you read beloved children's book series all-of-a-kind family by sydney taylor as children

[scarecrowgolem]

Thinking abt this time my non-jewish ex said it was "kind of appropriation" for leonard nimoy to come up with the vulcan solute by being inspired by kohanim hands because of his memory of being a child opening his eyes during a blessing...... HE'S LITERALLY JEWISH 😭😭😭😭

[swordsandholly]

Fancy

Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy

Previous | Next | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI

Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever

A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.

The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.

After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.

It is what it is. Life goes on.

The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.

TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED

DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR

UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE

With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.

Nothing is new under the constant night.

Life goes on.

You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.

“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.

You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“

“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.

“I- what?”

“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.

The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.

“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.

It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“

“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”

You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.

“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”

“But I don’t-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”

Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.

It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.

It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.

They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.

“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.

“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”

“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.

“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”

“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.

“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”

“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”

“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.

“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.

“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.

“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Och, ye wound me, lass.”

You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.

John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.

Top dog gets the chew toy.

“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.

“Suits not your style?”

“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”

You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.

“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.

“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”

Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.

“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.

To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”

Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.

“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.

You scoff. “Me?”

“You’re a smart girl.”

“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”

John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.

“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”

“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?

Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.

Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” John demands.

“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”

There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.

“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”

“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.

John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.

“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”

“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.

John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.

You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.

~~~

It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.

Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?

“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.

“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.

You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”

“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”

“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.

“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“

Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”

You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.

That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.

Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”

“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.

Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”

It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”

The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.

A promise.

It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.

“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.

“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”

“You just got here.” You murmur.

“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.

You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.

“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?

You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.

“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.

They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.

Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.

“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”

His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.

Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.

Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.

You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.

Cheeky bastard.

The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.

You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.

“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.

The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.

Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”

You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.

You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”

They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…

“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.

“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.

The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.

You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.

“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.

“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.

“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.

“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.

Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?

You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”

Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”

The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.

Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.

It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.

He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.

You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.

Fucking Christ.

Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.

An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.

“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.

As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.

“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.

You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.

“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.

“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”

You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.

Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”

Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”

You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.

“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.

Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.

All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”

That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.

“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.

He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.

“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.

Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”

He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.

“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”

All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.

“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”

The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.

“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.

Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.

Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”

“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.

“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.

“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.

“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.

“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.

It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.

You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”

Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.

You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.

“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”

It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.

“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”

You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“

“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.

You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.

Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.

“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.

“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.

“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?

“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.

“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.

“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“

“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.

You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.

So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.

There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…

You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.

You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.

That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.

“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.

“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“

“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”

“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.

“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.

You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.

“Y-you don’t have to-“

“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.

“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.

“Johnny behave himself?”

“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.

Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.

“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.

“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”

“You do.”

You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.

“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.

Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”

“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”

Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.

“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.

Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.

“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.

Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”

You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.

“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.

Oh.

Okay.

You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.

These men are going to be the death of you.

A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.

Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡

[imthebadguyyy]

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince II

pairing : charles leclerc x reader

fandom : f1

synopsis : you're the only female driver on the f1 grid, and have a secret relationship with ferrari's golden boy.

warnings : allusions to smut, smut

a/n : much awaited part 2!! apologies for taking so long life has been extremely busy lately

pt i

"don't say a word" charles mumbled to you, gently getting up.

god, you were so fucked.

you didn't dare say a word as charles wordlessly got up to find the pair of shoes carlos had so unfortunately left behind in his room. "why did he leave them here" charles whispered harshly, while gesturing to the large closet he had in his driver's room.

quiet as a cat you slipped into it, leaving it a crack open for ventilation. you watched from the gap as charles quickly ran a hand through his tousled hair, lips still red and swollen and eyes still blown wide from the orgasm he had a few moments again.

"just a second!" he called to his teammate, struggling to jump into his jeans and searching for his shirt before he realised where it was : on your body.

cursing under his breath, he inhaled deeply, before striding over to open the door for carlos.

"my god man, you took forever to open the door huh" carlos grumbled, sauntering his way into the room before charles could slam the door shut.

praying to the heavens, charles sneaked a jittery glance towards the closet, praying carlos didn't wander too close.

"ah yes! my lucky sneakers!" carlos exclaimed like a child on Christmas day, spotting the pristine white sneakers in the corner of the room.

"how did you leave them here?" Charles asked, hand reaching up to scratch his neck nervously.

"oh remember when we were all warming up before media day because we felt stiff? i left my shoes here and changed into my loafers" he said matter of factly, changing said loafers for his sneakers.

a flash of orange had him stopping mid way, staring blankly at the papaya shirt that lay just hidden below charles' physio table.

"mate, either you're a secret McLaren fan or.." carlos began, wide eyes wandering over to charles who had turned as red as the ferrari car he drove.

"WHAT no-thats not mine!!" he exclaimed.

groaning softly, you smacked your palm against your forehead, realising how much worse he sounded if he said it wasn't his.

"so you're- YOURE SLEEPING WITH LANDO?!" carlos exclaimed and charles let out a groan of despair.

"THATS WHO YOU THINK HES SLEEPING WITH?!" your stupefied voice rang out from the closet, earning a flurry of curse words from the spaniard.

"y/n?!?!" he exclaimed, watching as you stomped out in just a ferrari shirt, batelt covering your thighs,screaming in surprise as he covered his eyes and turned to the wall.

"PUT ON SOME CLOTHES I DON'T NEED TO SEE YOU LIKE THIS!" carlos shouted, as charles ran to cover up your body, tossing you your jeans to change into.

"you thought I was sleeping with lando?" charles hissed, sheer stress and surprise in his eyes.

"no i- i wasn't thinking okay I saw orange and i thought lando!" carlos defended himself, choosing to ignore the contemptuous snort you let out.

when you were all decent he turned again sinking into a chair to massage his temples, repeatedly muttering "dios mio" under his breath and looking between the two of you.

your hands were interlocked now, thumbs gently twiddling together, and he watched as charles reached for your palms, running a soothing thumb over your knuckles and holding your hand tightly within his. he noticed how charles' gaze softened and the gentility with which he stroked your hand, nothing but love and adoration in his eyes.

"so how long has this been going on?" carlos asked calmly, trying to ignore the mix of excitement and amusement in his chest at the sight of his best friend and the woman he considered to be his little sister anxiously awaiting his take like a teenage couple who got caught.

"um...abu dhabi last year? i got really drunk and so did charles and we just sort of stumbled into my hotel room and-" you began only to be cut off by a loud "tut-tut-tut-tut" from carlos who closed his eyes.

"i don't need details, hermana, just...okay" he sighed, standing up.

"carlos, please don't tell anyone" charles whispered tugging you closer. "Its hard enough for her to be accepted anyway and if people find our we're together, you know what the media is going to spin it into. we're just not ready yet" he concluded softly, feeling you cuddle into him, apprehension evident in your eyes.

"ay, of course I would not do that. you can trust me. I'm happy that youre happy with each other, you are aren't you?" he questioned suddenly, eyes hardening as he looked at charles.

"yes yes, im very happy carlos" you said quickly, knowing he was protective of you.

"charles makes me happier than i thought I could be" you mumbled, cheeks warming as you spoke, and charles pressed a kiss to your temple. "And she makes me happier than I ever thought i could be" he affirmed.

"well then, I'm even happier for you two. you deserve to be happy, and I'm glad it's her you're seeing and not lando" he concluded matter of factly, and you couldn't help but snort with laughter.

"thanks mate" charles chuckled dryly.

"okay I'm gonna leave but please charles, do something about your sex hair, you look like a wild hyena just tried to rip your hair off" he grumbled as you grinned proudly.

"well i suppose we do fu-" charles began cheekily as carlos yelled in protest and covered his ears, shaking his head from side to like a dog trying to get water out of his ears.

"no necesito saber detalles sobre el relacions intimas, ella es como mi hermana menor, ¿verdad?!" no I don't need to know the details about the sex she's like my younger sister!! carlos exclaimed as he sprinted out of the room.

taking a deep breath, your eyes met charles, and in a split second, you both burst into laughter, clutching onto each other to keep steady as you laughed.

"well, that was something" you chuckled, sitting back down on the physio table.

"it really was, non?" he said, joining you, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"i have to go back to McLaren now baby" you whispered, gently stroking the rough stubble on his cheek.

"i know" he mumbled against the skin of your neck. "ill see you at the gdpa meeting okay?" you whispered, pressing him a kiss goodbye as you reached for the McLaren shirt to swap for the scandalous ferrari one you were wearing.

with sweet kisses of goodbye,you dashed off towards the McLaren hospitality.

Jogging back hurriedly, you shielded your eyes from the blaring Barcelona sun, praying that you wouldn’t get in trouble from charlotte.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

silverstone as a track was simply iconic.

as many had famously said, everyone wanted a chance to step on the podium there, the birthplace of formula one.

because of lando, McLaren always had a tiny bit of extra pressure on them during the British gp, and this year was no different.

Britain brought with it grey skies, heavy rainclouds and smatterings of rain through free practice and qualis. the track was wet, the skies were gloomy, and boomrd with thunder but the energy around the track was electric. (no pun intended)

the fans at silverstone always brought their all and the weather was never a let down for them. as you stood in the garage, waiting for the skies to clear up a little, you glanced at the crowd, cheering and whooping for lewis, lando and george, and were surprised to see the many posters of your face, cheering you on.

waving at the fans with a quick smile, you turned back to the screen, brow furrowing as you watched the forecast predict even heavier rainfall for quali.

before you knew it, you were in q3, hot on max's trail for a pole position. your race engineer, elizabeth, urged you to speed up, tyres well maintained and checo 4.5 behind.

and so you pushed, putting in purple sector after sector, and when it came to it, beat max by one hundredth.

a shout of delight left your lips as you entered parc ferme, parking your car in the no1 spot and preparing for your pole tyre and interview. max offered you a tight lipped smile, making a quip about "i was on a pole streak!" to which you responded cheekily, "well looks like i took the fast lane to your frustration!"

after quali, you were drawn into meetings, last minute checks, interviews until finally, you relaxed in the hospitality with lando, sneakers off and feet resting on a puffy pouffe, a bowl of salad and an iced latte next to you.

lando had something similar, a burrito bowl and an orange juice, scrolling through his Instragram while you covered your eyes and hummed a song.

"darl, are you dating anyone?" he asked casually, crossing one ankle over the other as he spoke.

"no, why?" you asked, brow furrowing slightly as you lied through your teeth.

lando went an odd shade of splotchy red as he looked at you, taking in the curve of your cupids bow above your lip, furrowed in confusion, to the purse of your lips.

"w-well, i've got a mate yeah, and he'd really like to ask you out, but he doesn't know how to quite...do that y'know?" he stumbled out, hands scratching the back of his neck as he spoke.

"oh!" you said, shoulders relaxing as you smiled.

"im not really looking to date someone right now lan, please tell him that and give him a hug from me okay?" you said kindly, squeezing his knees before jumping off the couch to head home.

"I'll see ya tomorrow lan!" you said, waving goodbye and picking up your food as you left.

walking towards your car, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, and pulling it out, you saw charles notification.

(ferrari's) amore ♥️

amour, are you done with all your meetings?

y/n

yes darling, im just heading out to my car.

(ferrari's) amore ♥️

come to my room when youre back. i miss you :(

y/n

I'll be right there mon bebe, i miss you too 😙

you couldn't help but giggle at his messages, climbing into your car before making your way to the hotel.

as soon as you reached and managed to make your way past the gaggle of fans, you made your way to charles' room, cap covering your face as you moved stealthily through the hall.

reaching his door, you knocked softly, foot tapping against the carpeted floor, listening for the click of the door lock.

and lo and behold, there stood your italian god of a boyfriend, clad in just a pair of turquoise shorts and a bandana holding his curly locks back from his face, a stray strand peaking out almost cheekily.

"hello you" you smiled, squealing when he grabbed your plush hips and pulled you into him, arms tightening around your shoulders as he kissed your forehead, closing the door behind the both of you.

he walked backwards, guiding you into his dimly lit suite, pulling your jacket off of you and letting it drop onto the couch.

"missed you amour" he crooned softly, pecking your temple as he pulled the both of you into the large bed, laden with pillows and thick snowy white blankets, letting your body sink into the mattress.

"missed you too baby" you murmured.

"how was your day?" he asked, sliding down your body to tug your sneakers off, pressing a delicate kiss to your ankle as he pulled the socks off too, before trailing up to the McLaren t shirt you had on, signalling for you to raise your arms so he could tug it off your body, pressing feather soft kisses to your belly, chest, arms, shoulders and finally your cheeks.

"t'was alright i guess, quali was really great!" you gushed, fingers carding through his hair as a dimpled smile graced his cheeks.

"m'so proud baby" he said, kissing an erratic pattern on the bare expanse of your belly. "love you" you gushed again, tone utterly lovestruck, words coming out thick and syrupy.

charles gave you an equally lovestruck look, an ooey gooey warm sensation filling his chest.

"lemme show you how proud I am of you bebè" he whispered, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to your neck, body twisting above yours to curve into you.

charles' mouth was diligent on your neck, his lips parted and wet as he worked way up from a particularly sensitive spot on your neck up to the back of your ears, smothering you with hot, open mouthed kisses that had you squirming underneath him. your whole body felt like it was being slowly swallowed by a burning flame, lighting up sharply when when his tongue swept over your skin, followed quickly by a not-so-gentle scraping of his teeth.

you gasped, fingers curling tighter into the thick locks, not caring about how hard you were tugging the luscious strands, legs parting when he let out a soft growl against your skin, the sound reverberating in his chest.

"baby.." you whispered, as his hands slipped to unbutton your jeans, slowly tugging the material down your thighs, hands massaging the fat of your hips and thighs, pinching softly before soothing it with a velveteen caress.

"hush mon amour, let me take care of you" he murmured, mouth hot as it disappeared lower until he was cocooned in between your thighs.

his sea green eyes locked onto yours, as his mouth lowered onto your panties, a wet spot spreading like spilled ink on delicate paper, that had him salivating like a dog.

you closed your eyes, pleasure taking over every nerve in your body when he pressed a kiss to the drenched fabric.

what a night you were in for.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you wake up early, the sun is just rising above the horizon, casting an almost pastel glow in the room from the wide windows. you're supposed to reach the track in an hour, so you have to leave in about 30 minutes. charles however, the lucky bastard, gets to sleep in. he isn't due at the track till almost two hours after you.

grumbling, you stepped out of bed, searching for the sleep shorts charles had kept on the couch for you to slip into in the morning, mourning the loss of his warmth as you get ready in the bathroom, taking out your toothbrush, a hairbrush, your skincare, your makeup, peeking through the half-open door to see him fast asleep in bed, bare arm stretched out over your empty side, quite snores leaving his mouth, a soft pout on his lips. you took in the red marks littering his chest, now fading to a subtler maroon, and the indents of your fingerprints on his back, heat rising to your cheeks in soft pinpricks.

the sight leaves a dull ache blooming in your belly, a need to just go and cuddle with his forever filling every bone in your body. with a sigh, you turn back to the mirror, somehow managing to get through your makeup and your hair before you allow yourself to look at charles again

with a furrowed brow, you note that he’s not in bed anymore.

you almost jumped out of your skin when you notice him standing in the doorway of the bathroom, clad in literally nothing.

charles didn’t say anything, only getting his arms around you in a warm, soft hug,one arm circling around your back to hold your waist, the other bent over the top of your back to cup your head in his hand.

his feet shuffled into the bathroom, head dropping onto the dip in your shoulders, arms wrapped tight around your midriff. his hands splayed on your belly, and he pressed a delicate kiss to the back of your neck. "go back to bed honey" you said, squeezing his hand and smiling at his sleepy face in the mirror.

"mmmhm" was all you got in response, the warmth from his body enveloping you in a snug embrace.

"why do you have to go so early?" he groaned, head nuzzling into you like a cat. chuckling softly, you swipe a berry lipgloss over your lips, adjusting the white floral sundress you had opted for, carrying your team kit in a bag.

"cuz we're shit babe. and if I want to win this race, we need to get some work done off track before we start actual racing" you said, petting him on the head like a kitten.

"ill see you soon then coucou" he said, pressing a kiss to your head before collapsing back into bed.

shaking your head you laughed quietly, slipping out of the room and heading to find gemma, your trainer bringing you a bowl of chocolate oats and dragonfruit and berries to munch on.

"busy night?" she smirked and you stuck your tongue out at her.

"let's just go" you said, pecking her cheek as thanks for the food.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the track was buzzing with the usual hustle bustle, and charles was making his way towards parc ferme to get ready for drivers parade, which was going to be a vintage car display for each team. he caught sight of you, standing with lance and esteban, chatting animatedly about something.

he was standing with max, lando, carlos, checo, george and alex, all happily discussing their plans for the summer break.

he felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he watched you greet lewis with a hug and then laugh as he showed you something on his phone.

he felt his heart flutter when you bit your lip to conceal a grin when toto and christian glared at each other like schoolchildren.

he felt his breath hitch when you twirled a strand of hair around your fingers, exposing the bare skin of your neck where, if he squinted hard enough, he could make out the pale remains of the hickeys he had sucked into the skin.

"you alright mate? max asked, watching the way charles had turned a splotchy red.

"yeah I'm fine" he said, offering him a weak grin.

"you sure?" lando joked, grinning widely at him.

"who are you looking at?" max enquired, peering over charles shoulder to analyse who he was looking at.

"was it maria?" checo asked, referring to one of ferrari's press officer who had stunning red hair and beautiful emerald eyes.

"no no" charles said, shutting the idea down quickly, silently turning to carlos for help.

"leave him alone guys, he was probably just drooling over the track" carlos said, nudging max with his foot.

"yeah, right. don't think we haven't noticed how dreamy you've been recently" lando teased, while carlos and alex offered charles sympathetic smiles.

"it's nothing" he said, voice almost clipped.

"okay, let's leave him alone" alex said, clapping him on the back.

he watched as you skipped over, hair bouncing as you did. "hello!" you greeted chirpily, settling into a spot beside alex and carlos.

a chorus of hellos and grins greeted you. "what's going on?" you asked, cocking your head to one side.

"charles has a crush" lando teased again.

"oh is it?" you asked, concealing a smirk as you locked eyes with the man, eyes glimmering with mischief.

"yes it is!" george said, grinning widely.

"who is it?" you asked innocently, batting your eyelashes at him, watching the crease form in his eyebrow.

"no one" he said, hands slipping into his pockets while carlos sent you an exasperated look.

"oh c'mon tell us something about her" you giggled, hand tracing up to linger on the spot where he had left a bite, bringing a blush to his cheeks.

he watched the teasing glint in your eyes and with new resolve, relaxed.

"well," he began, eyes locked directly onto yours. "shes the most exquisite woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing" he said, eyes boring into yours.

the chorus of 'oohs' around you didn't register, as you listened intently, heart hammering in your chest.

"she's insanely beautiful, but also has a heart of gold. shes kind, caring, smart, talented and extremely passionate" he continued, listing the qualities on his fingers, ignoring the smirks from his friends, focusing only on the widening of your eyes, and the way your hands fiddled with your rings.

"she's sassy, and isn't afraid to speak her mind. shes always thinking about others and is an angel on earth. she's as beautiful as a setting sun casting shadows on a deep ocean, as beautiful as victory, silent and strong, as beautiful as a graceful ballet, as beautiful as laughter ringing clear in the mountains" he continued, noting the way your eyes has become overbright, while also noting carlos' gaze on him.

"wow mate, you're down bad" alex commented, smiling at his friend, while max and lando sported identical grins. "yeah, never heard you be so poetic before" george commented, before turning to you. "isn't that right speedy?" he asked, waiting for your response.

clearing your throat softly, you nodded. "yeah, she's one lucky gal isn't she" you said, a wide smile on your face.

"time to go!" came a shout, startling you out of your little lovedaze.

"be right there!" lando shouted back, grabbing your arm, but you stopped him, murmuring a soft "I'll be right there" as you bid everyone a goodbye. one by one they all trickled out, carlos squeezing your shoulder kindly.

you gave charles a quick hug, tensing slightly when he pressed a quick kiss to your head away from the prying cameras.

"I love you" he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, and you repeated it, before giving him another lovestruck grin, before sprinting off to join lando.

charles stood there for a second, the same ooey gooey warm sensation filling his chest, before he was snapped back to reality by sylvia calling his name and he too sprinted back.

as you and lando followed redbull, mercedes, and ferrari, he turned to fix his gaze upon you.

"charles seems really in love doesn't he?" he asked, eyes fixated on you to gauge your reaction.

"he really does" you said, concealing a smile.

"how do you feel about that?" he asked, a strange abruptness in his tone.

"what do ya mean lan?" you asked, eyebrow quirking.

"I mean, you had a massive crush on him back when we were younger" he said, and you gaped at him, rendered momentarily speechless.

"um.." you trailed off, turning away from his burning gaze to wave at the crowds with a fake smile. "it doesn't bother me" you said finally, not really lying because how could you be bothered.

"are you sure?" he asked again, an odd tenseness to his voice. "yes I'm sure" you said firmly. "it's just..." he trailed off, unable to vocalise this thoughts.

"what, lan?" you asked, still waving at the crowds, putting up a peace sign for the crowds.

"you've seemed a little off lately...even when I brought up the thing about you dating a friend of mine, you kind of clammed up and i got the feeling that.." "got the feeling that?" you questioned, unease bubbling in your chest.

"that maybe there was a 5.4% chance that you were the girl charles was into" he finished and you almost fell off the seat of your car.

"w-what?" you laughed nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. landos gaze didn't falter.

"look, I'm not stupid. I see the way he looks at you sometimes. and I see the way you look at him. but if you're not the girl he's dating, i want you to not be hurt because you're one of my best friends" he said, giving your hand a quick squeeze.

you felt a blossom of affection for your friend bloom in your chest. taking a deep breath, you made a hasty decision.

"lando, what I'm going to tell you is an absolutely top level secret and if you tell anyone I will chop your dick off and feed it to a duck" you said solemnly, ignoring the high pitched chuckle that left his mouth.

"okay i pinky swear" he said, sticking out his pinky towards you. you interlocked yours with his briefly, before taking a deep breath.

"I am charles new girlfriend" you admitted softly, eyes fixed on the ground in apprehension. you almost had a heart attack when he whooped so loudly, you were about a 100% sure that the cars in front of you and behind you would've heard you.

"shush!" you scolded, head whipping back and forth to see if anyone heard. "I fucking knew it! i absolutely knew it, the way he looks at you and the lovestruck puppy face he makes my god i KNEW it" he laughed gleefully, shaking you by the shoulders.

"okay shut up lando but please don't tell anyone" you begged, trying to hide the grin on your face.

"I promised i won't. but I have so many questions!!" he said excitedly, squeezing your hand. you laughed, glancing over to the front where charles was waving happily at the crowds.

"how about you meet us for dinner tonight, and I'll tell you more about it then?" you said, and he nodded excitedly. "we can call carlos too" you said, "since he knows about us as well".

lando let out a dramatic gasp, hand pressed over his chest. "CARLOS KNEW BEFORE ME?!?!" he said, eyes widening almost conically.

"by accident you dipshit, he walked in on us..um...well, actually! funny story, he actually thought it was you charles was sleeping with" you said with a cheeky smile, rolling your eyes with no real malice when he pretended to gag and throw up.

"why?!?!" "because he saw a McLaren t shirt on the floor" you admitted. lando pretended to gag again. "please spare me the details of your sex life" he groaned, hand still pressed to his chest.

"oh really, cuz I was just going to go into details about how good he fuck-" you began cheekily and he squealed and slammed his hand over your mouth (gently)

you let out a cackle, giving him a friendly hug, before turning your full attention to the stands.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the race was tough, rain showering down halfway, making the track slippery and grip a challenge, but somehow, you fought and maintained your position.

there was a tense moment when max had overtaken you rather roughly, making you drop to p3 with a 3 second gap between you, and perez and a 5 second gap to you and max. however, with some spectacular over taking and flawless defending, you had soared to victory, with max in p2, and to your surprise, carlos in p3.

the podium had been a blast, with carlos pouring champagne down your entire body and hair, and lifting you up to hoist you on the top of his shoulders.

it had made for a lovely picture of you laughing, champagne bottle in hand, and a smiling carlos pointing up to you, while andreas 'bowed' down to you.

mclaren mechanics and engineers and staff had cheered for you, with charles and lando watching proudly and clapping for the both of you.

lando had given charles a nudge, before whispering a soft "she told me buddy" and giving him a tight one armed hug and whispering, "dont you fucking hurt her Leclerc or like your girlfriend said, I'll chop your dick off and feed it to a duck" making him laugh in alarm, before smiling softly at him.

dripping in a mix of sweat and champagne, you walked off into the McLaren hospitality, hugging everyone around you, before going straight into your driver's room to change.

a quick shower and a change of clothes later you felt fresh and giddy with excitement, so when lando sent a text in your shared group, saying "club inferno to get absolutely hammered on me, half an hour, look sexy y'all" you had laughed and made your way to your hotel to get dressed.

you hadnt been able to contact charles or heard from him after the podium but decided that you'd just meet him at the club, so you changed into a particularly rivetingly sexy little dress you had bought especially for a moment like this, a strappy little number that hugged every curve and fold on your body.

you paired it with your favourite YSL libre perfume, painting your lips in a dior rouge lipstick charles had gifted her, swiping a glittery lip gloss on top, adding seductive black eyeliner and mascara, a rosy blush and a glittery highlight, and darkened your eyes with kohl.

you slipped on a pair of black rhinestone heels, with little diamond bows on them that just looked absolutely phenomenal on you.

with a sigh of satisfaction, you sent a quick text to gemma, telling her you were ready to be picked up so the both of you could get absolutely wrecked on lando's tab.

she was not complaining.

the dark club was pulsating with heavy beats, bodies swayed in harmony with sultry beats on the dance floor, bathed in hues of electric blue and crimson. the air buzzed with the intoxicating blend of thumping music, the intoxicated giggles of every individual in the club, the mingling scents of tequila, fruity cocktails, earthy whiskeys, bitter beers.

gemma whooped as you walked in, the energy palpable in her body as she flailed her arms wildly with the music.

"im gonna go order some shots!" you shouted, rushing to the bar immediately. you were intercepted by a very drunk Pierre, who congratulated you with a hug and promise to buy you shots.

you were further intercepted by carlos, who, despite looking ready to pass out still had impeccable hair and was about the down another shot of tequila.

"shots on me hermosa!" he said, passing you a shot of tequila and a lemon with salt.

in your excitement, you missed charles, clad in a black shirt and white linen pants, watching you giggle and reach for the lemon. he watched as you put the salt on the back of your wrist, licking it up, tongue sweeping along the skin, and then dousing the shot of tequila, exposing the skin of your neck, and drowning the shot, only to flick back into position and suck on the lime.

he licked his lips, feeling the groin region of his pants become uncomfortably tight.

he made his way over to you, the thumping beat of travis scott's fein filling his eardrums. he watched as you leaned over to the barman, breasts pushing up against your dress, ordering shots, pushing your hair back over your shoulder. he walked with cemented purpose, as the beat changed, turning more sultry.

you were leaning over the bar when a familiar scent of dior sauvage filled your nostrils, and a strong pair of arms wrapped around your midriff.

"baby!" you squealed, leaping into his arms, lips pressing messily against his, momentarily forgetting about the secrecy of your relationship. charles savoured it, tilting your chin to kiss you deeper, counting on the barely there lighting to hide the two of you.

you downed another shot with him, pulling him towards the dance floor before stepping back softly. you pushed your hair away from your chest so it fell down your back, hips swaying as the seductive beat of vixen by miguel filled the club, the rnb vocals adding depth to the sensual rhythm your body was following, hands running up and down your body as you swayed your hips in a pulsating rhythm, bending at the knees as you sunk to the floor, wining your hips as the chorus came on.

charles ignored the fact that literally anyone could see you right there, as he stepped towards you, hands on your hips as he pulled you flush against his body, hips grinding rhythmically with your own.

you let out a soft moan,turning so your back was pressed against his crotch. you let your head drop to his shoulder, bum pressing against his crotch and wining softly against him, feeling his breath hitch.

"fuck, mon amour, you're making it hard for me to not fuck you right here right now" he groaned.

"you know as much as I like dancing and clubbing" you murmured, fingers dancing across his thighs, "I think id much rather prefer to celebrate at home with my baby" you continued, letting your teeth sink into your plush bottom lip.

"thats it" he growled, hand grabbing yours and tugging you along, making his way into the park to his car.

"im gonna fuck you like the winner you are" he whispered, kissing the shell of your ear.

your hotel room was on the 16th floor, and as the two of you made your way into the elevator, he eyed you up and down, eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts.

the moment the door shut, he pushed you against the wall, capturing your lips in a steamy kiss you'd be remembering the next day. his hands moved to your ass, squeezing hard, eliciting a moan from your lips. the moment your lips parted, he was pushing his tongue into yours, his other hand coming up to pull on your hair roughly, relishing in the gasp that left your lips. as suddenly as he started, he stopped, pulling back and standing almost nonchalantly against the wall.

you stumbled forward on weak legs, trying to wrap your head around what happened, gripping the wall with whatever remaining resolve you had in your body.

you could feel your wetness dripping, threatening to run down your thighs, as the throbbing became even more painfully exciting. you looked down at the floor, eyes closing as your frustration grew more and more by the second.

finally, with a little 'ding', the elevator stopped at the 16th floor. the moment the door opened you stepped out on wobbly legs, trying your best to walk properly.

but of course, that wasn't going to happen. as you turned one long corridor, charles grabbed your waist, pushing you up against the wall, to reach down and suck on your neck. you let out a gasp, head falling back against the door, and let your pussy rub against his hardening cock, but charles retaliated with a slap to your ass, smirking when a high pitched moan left your lips.

he let the door swing open, carrying you inside, letting you drop down, and kick off your heels, chest heaving. he made his way towards you, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall to the floor.

"such a fucking sexy drive, the way you defended and fought like a beast on track" he said, stalking towards you, hands dropping to the straps of your dress, tugging it downwards. "ma belle fille" he murmured, lips trailing hot kisses to your neck and sucking dark hickies on it. his tongue swept out, licking repeatedly over the sensitive spot, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin, teeth nipping and leaving dark marks.

he pressed open mouthed kisses that seemed scorching, while his hands dropped lower, peeling the satiny material off of your body, groaning when it peeled off to reveal your breasts, heaving with tension and arousal, nipples hardening as the cold air touched them.

"were gonna do something special baby" he said, sucking the skin of your neck in between his teeth, before pulling away with a smacking sound.

he walked backwards towards where there was a bottle of dom perigon in ice, popping the cork, letting it fizz down. he walked over to you, taking a dull sip of the liquid.

he motioned to the bed, and you followed silently, laying down, resting on your forearms.

he walked over to you, hands slipping to your tits, tugging on your nipples and running his thumb over them. he watched your breath hitch and your body quake as he played with your nipples, other hand reaching up to grab your cheeks and force your mouth open.

he kissed you harshly, lips closed to keep the champagne in, before his thumb and forefinger dug into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open.

you shuddered as he leaned over, breath fanning over your face as he let the golden liquid pour from his mouth into yours, warm and delicious as it overflowed from your mouth, dribbling down your chin.

you gasped as you swallowed the burning in your throat.

he pushed you gently, body laying against the linen. he pressed another searing kiss to your lips, biting at the plush bottom lip, sucking it in between his own.

he kissed you harder, yanking the rest of your dress off of your body, dropping it to the floor.

he leaned down, sucking hickeys onto every bare expanse of your chest, sucking dark marks, teeth nipping, breathing harshly, tongue licking over the expanse of skin.

he trailed lower, mouthing over your breasts, sucking on the nipple of one while his fingers toyed with the other, tongue flicking harshly and sucking harshly, feeling you arch into him. his tongue flicked wildly against the bud, before treating the other one the same, groping and grabbing till he felt they were marked enough.

he sunk lower, pressing kisses to your belly and sinking till the gap between your thighs,before reaching up again. you watched with bated breath as he grabbed the bottle again, tipping it over so it flowed into your belly and pooled into your belly button. he let his tongue dip in, sucking up the champagne, and making you moan at the sight.

he tipped it up towards your mouth again, letting you have a swig of champagne, licking up the beads that dripped down your chin.

"so fucking delicious, have to taste the rest of you" he murmured. "ma belle fille, mon amour" he whispered, leaning down to his thighs, pressing kisses to your thighs, all the way till your ankles, letting it rest on top of his shoulder as he leaned up.

he pressed kisses all the way till he reached your pussy, clad in black lacy panties. he inhaled the scent deeply, a sight that brought a sob to your throat.

"fuck please baby, I need your tongue in me" you sobbed, a strangled wail leaving your lips when his tongue sucked over the lady barrier through the arousal seeping out.

he licked and sucked till the material was drenched, fingers tracing up and down your thighs gently, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

he hooked his fingers into your panties, tugging it down, leaving your pussy quivering when the cool air came into contact with your pussy.

charles reached for the bottle again, tipping the bottle just a little so it dripped a tiny sprinkle of champagne down your thighs. he licked it up, hands gripping into your thighs.

and then, his fingers were spreading you open, moaning as he saw your pussy lips struggle to seperate as your sticky arousal clung like a golden thread. he broke it with his fingers swirling it into his tongue, moaning at the taste.

"you taste sweeter than honey, bebe" he whispered, moaning into your pussy. his tongue licked up the expanse of your pussy, flicking erratically against your clit, licking all around the engorged, throbbing bud, before he began to suck on it with fervour. he bent your legs are an angle, so he had better access to your pussy, his head resting temporarily on your thigh, and drank up the sounds of you moaning and whimpering above him.

above him, you were moaning and whining his name, letting out a squeal when he started licking his initials onto your clit, tracing a curved c and an elongated l.

"please please please" you chanted, overcome with pleasure.

his finger slipped into your fluttering hole, thumb helping as he sucked on your clit, the overwhelming sensations sending you ricocheting towards a high.

"baby baby please im gonna fucking cum" you screamed, hips bucking wildly against his mouth as he continued to suck and lick at your pussy.

and just as you thought the pleasure was at its peak, he began to shake his head in your pussy, the erratic movement bringing an even more intense onslaught of pleasure onto your pussy. "oh fuck charles" you screamed, thighs quaking and head falling back in pleasure as you came violently, cum squirting from your pussy that he lapped up like amortentia.

but to your pleasure, he didn't stop there. he kept sucking, with more vigour and more intensity, slurping from your pussy like it was the most delicious thing in the world, moaning and groaning into your clit, sloppy and messy but oh how fucking good it felt

"cum for me, let me taste you again mon gagnant" (my winner) he murmured, the vibrations sending you over the edge again.

you came with a cry against tears dripping against you cheek.

panting, charles crawled his way back up your body, kissing your lips and gently wiping away the tears, pressing saccharine sweet kisses to your red cheeks, tracing the puff of the muscle with his pinky and pressing kisses to every corner of your face as you calmed down, whispering sweet whispers of "my sweet girl, my angel, my baby, my heart" like a mantra in french.

"baby please I need your cock" you sobbed, hands gripping onto his back, wrapping around his neck, nose reddening and eyes teary as you looked at him.

"you want my cock, mon coeur?" he cooked, voice syrupy sweet and sticky, tracing soothing circles on your thigh.

you only blubbered a yes in response, watching him cup his cock, getting it ready for your throbbing pussy as he spread his pre cum around it, body still pressed warmly against yours, pressing sweet kisses to your shoulders.

he lined up with your entrance, watching as you let out a shaky breath, eyes falling shut, as you clenched in anticipation. "my sweet angel drove so spectacularly, she deserves the world, doesn't she?" he cooed again, pushing a sweaty strand of hair away from your face.

"please baby, i think I do" you whined, swollen lips curling into a pout. "of course you do, mon chat" he murmured, lips pressed to your hairline, before slowly, in a single thrust, he had slotted himself inside you.

you gasped, gummy walls stretching to accomodate his cock. "fuck!" you whined, back arching off of the bed to meet his chest.

fuck, mon coeur, tellement serre" he groaned (so tight), hand interlocking with your own, fingers interlacing, the feeling adding such an addictive homeliness to the passinate moment.

his hips thrusted slowly, steadily, deeply, hitting spots that had you seeing stars. your hands clung to his back, nails raking down, tearing the skin, and you hear him hiss and moan at the sensation, hand squeezing you're tighter.

"I love you!" you sobbed out, when he raised your hips to grab onto your leg, pushing it away towards your head, and wrapping the other one around his waist, the new angle allowing him to fuck you even deeper into the mattress. his fingers dropped to your clit again, circling, rubbing roughly, even pinching softly enough to leave your body jolting, lips dropping back to your nipples to suck on them.

"je t'aime ma jolie" he moaned out, head dropping into the crook of your neck as his thrusts increased in pace, and the room echoed with the lewd squelches, groans and moans, pants and whines, as you clung to him tighter.

"charles m gonna cum" you whined, eyes rolling to the back of your head as charles sunk his teeth into the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

"cum for me" he growled, and with a cry, you came undone for the third time that night. thighs shaking, breath quaking, your squirted over his cock, soaking the bedding and his thighs as it dripped everywhere, and the mere sight was enough to make charles cum, shooting his cum into your, watching it drip out of your pussy.

panting, he rolled off of you, pulling you into his chest as you both lay on the bed, completely winded and tuckered out.

your chest heaved and breath came out laboured as you came down from your high. charles peppered kisses on your face, kissing your nose, chin, cheeks, lips, forehead and your eyes softly, drawing soothing circles over your heart to help you calm down.

"did so good for me, ma cherie" he cooed, syrupy and sweet like honey. "I'll be right back amour" he said, pressing a kiss to your hairline, to disappear into the bathroom.

you heard the tap running and he returned with a warm soaked towel, cleaning up between your thighs and all the way up your body, letting you cool down after the passionate session. he peppered kisses to every spot he cleaned, pulling your hair into a delicate ponytail.

he cleaned himself up and joined you in bed again, holding up your back as he made you take small sips of cold water, ordering room service for a good pasta for you two, and a chocolate mousse.

"I love you so much" you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his chest. "i love you more" he said, a soft smile on his face.

"im so lucky to have you in my life" he confessed, taking in your sleepy face and the slow pattern of your breathing. "you make everyday a hundred times more beautiful, when I'm with you, the sun moon and stars don't compare" he continued his poetic confession.

"you make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world by letting me love you" you said,voice cracking as you looked at his form, so beautiful, so sweet, so loving.

your peaceful moment of tranquility was broken by a series frantic beeps from both your phones.

raising an eyebrow, you let your head drop to charles' chest while he reached for your phone.

his eyes widened, fear creeping into them as he sat up abruptly.

"fuck" he cursed, carding a hand through his hair, turning to look at you, an odd look of fear in his face.

"what's wrong?" you asked, dread rising in your chest like an ice cold steam, fearing the very worst.

in response he just showed you his phone.

there, on instagram and twitter, were a series of dark, blurry, pixellated picture of a man and woman in a club, hands all on each other, and a very telling video of the woman grinding her body seductively against the man.

you and charles.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : part two!! might make a part three or might just....leave it here 👀 as always likes comments reblogs opinions are appreciated!! always down to make new friends and do let me know what you think! happy reading and much love always 🩷

TAGS

charles :@chanshintien @eternalharry @janeholt3 @magicalcowboyarbiter @oneafterdark @leclerc13 @crlsummer @electrobutterfly @superlegend216 (f1) @formula1mount @f1lov3r @livsters @inkfablesandstories @ivegotparticulartaste (all f1) @moon-enthusiast (all f1 @ssararuffoni @dark-night-sky-99

also tagging those who responded to this series!

@tempo-rary-fix @marymustdie @p4st3lst4rs @thesstuff @lauralarsen @notleclerc @dreamcarsound @dhe3read3 @urfavnoirette

[buddhistmusings]

How I First Became Aware of Antisemitism

I debated whether or not to post this, partly because I think it places a little more focus on me then I necessarily need or want, but I think it also highlights a feature of prejudice and oppression that is interesting to explore. So, I thought I would share the story of how I, somebody who has no known Jewish ancestry or personal connection to Judaism, first encountered antisemitism.

I am autistic (bear with me here) and growing up I was teased, sometimes in ways that upset me, usually in ways that sort of rolled off my shoulders. I grew up in a very rural area, I had curly brown hair, dark brown eyes, I did very well in school, and I had a way of speaking that people found unusual. I did not relate to my peers or engage with pop culture much, so I was unaware of many concepts as a child. One of the nicknames that people began to call me was "Jew" and "Jew-Boy". I had not ever heard of a Jewish person before, the first time the concept of a Jew was ever introduced to me was as an insult. Despite the fact that I was not Jewish, the concept of "the Jew" was used to insult me.

I had a very similar experience with another insult, but this one was something that was true. The first time I was called gay, I did not know what that meant. The first time the concept of gay was introduced to me, it was as an insult. I did end up discovering that I am gay. The realization that something true about myself was first introduced to me in order to demean me was jarring. How did these people know I was gay before I did? Obviously, there are differences between these two examples, but I think there's something interesting that comparing them can tell us. Prejudice and oppression can have real impacts on people who are not in the group being targeted, even if the impact is mostly relegated to the targeted group. Wherever prejudice exists, it is a threat to the dignity and welfare of all people.

Moreover, it speaks to the widespread demonization that some groups can experience. I became aware of "the Jew" as a trope before I was ever aware of the existence of a Jewish person. And, the first Jewish person I ever became aware of was Anne Frank, excluding Jesus, who I was not aware was Jewish. In both of these examples, even after I became aware of Jewish people as actual human beings, I was only introduced to them through the lens of their suffering. Dara Horn examines this fantastically in her book "Everybody Loves Dead Jews". And, by the way, all of these events were at least a decade before I ever even met an openly Jewish person in real life.

I am focusing so hard on this topic right now, because nobody deserves to exist in anybody's mind as a trope before they exist as an actual human being. Like that's fucking disgusting. How many people out there, who feel entitled to share their thoughts loudly and openly about Jewish people, their history, their culture, and their religion, have ever sat down for a meal with a Jewish person? How many of them have taken a course on a Jewish related subject? How many of them have actually taken the time to understand? And why have so many of us gentile allies utterly failed to organize around stopping antisemitism? We've just waited until it died down slightly. Until it was out of sight and out of mind. And now it's come back, like it always has and always does and always will, unless we actually do something about it. Like, for real this time.

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 1 - Spring: The Garden Meeting

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader

Summary: While taking a break from a ball, you run into Neuvillette in the gardens

Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine's regency england (sort of) now?

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Of all the balls that you had attended, this was by far the most glamorous, and the dullest. And the worst thing was, your champagne glass was empty.

You picked at your dull gown, which maintained a respectable air of elegance despite the fact that it was clearly secondhand and had been mended several times, and held in a sigh. Not that anyone was looking at you, sitting on a stuffed couch with the rest of the ladies who, like you, weren’t fortunate enough to have a dance partner. 

All eyes were on the amber-colored dance floor, where young men and women dressed in sleek black tuxedos and pastel ruffles respectively were twirling around in each other’s arms under a glittering chandelier. The smiles and blushes on the faces of the dancers were a stark contrast to the scheming mothers and fathers watching them like hawks from the side, frequently whispering to each other. Your own mother was no exception, of course.

You caught the eye of your younger sister, who looked about to burst out of her skin from nervousness as she danced with a nice-looking young man, the son of a viscount if you remembered correctly. You heard your mother clucking her tongue next to you, most likely wishing that your sister looked more like a lovestruck maiden. You, on the other hand, were happy for her for not stumbling over her feet, since you knew how hard she practiced all week in order to dance without embarrassing herself at her first ball.

Her partner, seeming to have noticed her tension, whispered what seemed to be words of comfort into her ear, for she blushed and smiled just a bit. He seemed like a considerate young man. Perhaps your mother wouldn’t leave this ball disappointed after all.

Speaking of disappointments…you felt your mother give you a sidelong glare for the third time in the past hour. You held back a sigh. 

Truth be told, you didn’t know why your mother still brought you to these things, despite the fact that you were “past your prime,” so to speak. Not that you were much in demand even when you were in your prime. Blessed—or cursed—with an unremarkable face and a curt, reticent personality, it was as though the gods had marked you for the fate of spinsterhood since birth (you had tried to explain this to your mother, but the scolding she gave you had dragged on for so long that you didn't bring it up again). Your debut in society had made little fanfare and you had sunk into invisibility by the end of the year. 

Of course, you couldn’t begrudge your mother for her frustration. Your father was a baron, the lowest noble rank, and your family was firmly in the ranks of the “impoverished gentility,” on the verge of falling below that if they didn’t marry into greater wealth. You were the oldest child and had no brothers. The hopes for a successful marriage match now rested on the slim shoulders of your sister, who had just come of age this year. Her dress was newly ordered for her–your parents had spared no expense.

You sincerely hoped that this young man would take a liking to your sister (how could he not?), not just for the sake of the family’s future, but also for your sister’s mental wellbeing. She was sunshine itself, but also prone to bouts of insecurity and nerves that took not a little effort to coax her out of.

The music showed no signs of winding down. It seemed that this dance would go on for some time yet. By the time you were on the receiving end of your fourth glare in an hour, you finally decided to excuse yourself and go out into the spacious gardens.

You would have much preferred going to the library and finding an interesting biography or novel to read, but alas, it was improper to wander the estate of a stranger without telling the host first. But the fresh air and different scenery were a much-needed distraction from the hissed conversations around you and icy glares from your mother.

It was late in the evening, so you couldn’t appreciate the gardens in their full glory, but even in the faint moonlight and dull glow of the orange lamps, you could tell that the gardens were magnificent. They were elegantly arranged, with dainty flowers and stately trees lining stone paths and pale marble statues of women in flowing dresses standing like silent guards. There were other people scattered around in the gardens as well, mainly couples who wanted some privacy away from the ballroom. 

You spotted a large arched trellis to your right. It was covered in white roses and seemed to lead to some distant part of the gardens. It reminded you of the portals to fairyland in the fairy tale books you've read. The thought brought a small smile to your face, and not a little bit of guilt for thinking of such childish things when you should really be more concerned about your prospects. I'm allowed a little bit of whimsy, aren't I? You told yourself.

You walked through the arch, following the path. Once you emerged on the other end, the air almost seemed to smell sweeter and the moonlight brighter. Maybe it was because you could no longer hear the music. This seemed to be the part of the garden where the roses were planted, as you could make out their distinctive shapes around you in the darkness. There were fewer lamps here and no presence of people, but you could still see the mansion in the distance, so it should still be okay to be all the way out here, right? At least, that was what you told yourself.

As you proceeded down the path, you gradually heard the sound of burbling water. Its source was soon revealed when the path ended at a large stone fountain. It was topped with an elaborate carving of a mermaid sitting on a shell, from which the water emerged. You could see the copper glow of coins at the bottom of the basin. There were benches around the fountain, and you sat down on one of them. The area was surrounded by tall trees that blocked off the other areas of the gardens like a dome. This place seemed perfect for reading or quiet contemplation.

You engaged in the latter, tilting your head back and looking up at the night sky. The first stars were emerging. It was truly nighttime now, but you couldn't bring yourself to go back. The thought of having to sit back down on that damned couch and be forced to watch that glittering world from the sidelines seemed like the worst torture in the world. 

Why did Mother bring me here? You wondered for the umpteenth time. I could have been using this time to practice my piano or painting. Skills that will actually help my future.

As you stared up at the sky, you gradually sensed a presence near you. You slowly turned your head, preparing yourself to run. When you saw who it was, you nearly gasped. 

A tall, stately figure was standing by the fountain. His long silver hair, tied with a ribbon, gleamed beneath the moonlight. His dark blue robes practically blended into the night. He was turned away from you, but you knew who he was immediately. Anyone who lived in Fontaine would.

The Chief Justice, Neuvillette.

What is someone so important doing here? And unannounced, no less.

The Chief Justice hadn't been an invited guest to the ball, you were very sure. For one thing, his arrival would have been announced with far more ceremony. For another thing, he was known to rarely show up to such events unless his presence was specially required.

He didn't seem to notice you were there at first, as he seemed preoccupied with peering into the bottom of the fountain. Has he dropped something? You wondered. And how did he get here without me hearing him?

You briefly considered going up and greeting him before ultimately deciding to sneak away and return to the mansion. Getting involved with someone as important as him never ended well for people like you. What if someone caught you two alone here? You and your family would become fodder for the tabloids.

Yes, stealthily taking your leave was most certainly the right choice here. You picked up your skirts and got up from the bench, then tiptoed slowly to the start of the stone path, carefully watching your step. You had just set your foot on the stones when a voice suddenly called out to you from behind.

"Good evening, Miss. What a lovely evening we have today."

His voice was low and smooth, different from the commanding tone he used during trials. Your family only had the luxury of going to the Opera Epiclese once or twice a year, but you could distinctly hear him ordering the audience to remain calm in your head.

Cursing inwardly, you composed yourself, turned around, and curtsied. "Good evening, Monsieur Neuvillette. My sincerest apologies for not greeting you first. You seemed to be in the middle of doing something important, so I did not wish to interrupt you."

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you wished you could take them back. They sounded sarcastic even to you. It was a nasty tendency of yours to say things without considering how they might sound to other people, even if they sounded perfectly well-meaning in your head.

However, Neuvillette didn't seem to take any offense. In fact, he nodded like your excuse was perfectly reasonable to him. "No, I should be the one apologizing for being so inconsiderate towards a lady. I let my whims get the best of me instead of greeting you."

"Oh, I assure you that it is no offense to me at all, Monsieur. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall return to the ball."

"Then I shall escort you."

"There's no need for that, Monsieur. It's not very far from here. And also…" you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Forgive me if I am mistaken, but I don't believe that you were an invited guest of the ball. It may cause some confusion if you were to suddenly appear here."

"Ah," he said, like he hadn't considered that. You noticed that he didn't deny being uninvited. "You're right, Miss. Then, will you allow me to escort you up to the arch at least?"

"...Very well, Monsieur. Thank you for your kind offer," you said, because it didn't seem like he was about to leave you alone. 

The two of you began walking back in silence. Your mind was occupied with the burning question of what exactly was the Chief Justice doing in a garden without telling anyone, but you couldn't think of a way to bring up the topic without coming off as overstepping your position. But then, isn't he the one who's technically trespassing here? 

"So, Monsieur Neuvillette, if you don't mind my presumptuousness in asking, what occasion brings you here?"

"Well…it is as I said before. I am simply here to indulge my whims. I was taking a walk nearby when I heard the delightful burbling of a fountain and couldn't help but come and take a look. Ah, do not worry. The owner of the estate already knows I'm here and has permitted me to take my walks in the gardens."

"Oh, I see," you nodded, even though you didn't. It was too dark to make out his face, but his tone sounded completely sincere and truthful. Not that you could do anything even if he was lying.

There was another brief silence. "And you, Miss? What are you doing here alone, away from the ball? I would assume that most young ladies your age would rather be there."

Normally, you would have been irked by such a question. You’ve heard it too many times in the past. But Neuvillette sounded like he was genuinely curious. 

“There’s no need for me to come to balls, so I would rather be doing something else with my time,” you admitted. “I’m only here to accompany my younger sister, who has just come of age.” And because my mother made me come, you silently added. 

“No need to come to balls? Are you already betrothed?”

“No, no, that’s not it,” Now you wished you hadn’t answered. It was awkward trying to explain this to an outsider. “It’s just that there’s no point in me being at them. I already know what lies in store for me, and there’s very little chance of it changing.”

“You’ve already decided what you’re going to do in the future? You’re quite the ambitious person.”

It seemed as though he misunderstood. How wonderful. You were somewhat hesitant over whether or not to tell him the truth, since people always acted like you told them you were going to move to the Fleuve Cendre or something like that, but you didn’t want to leave any misunderstandings. “No…it’s not as grand as what you might be thinking, Monsieur. I will become a governess.”

“A governess?” For the first time, you heard something other than polite interest in his voice. 

You couldn’t blame him for his reaction. A governess was a role that befell women whose families declined in fortunes or who couldn’t find a husband. It wasn’t something anyone wanted to become. It was a thankless job with low pay and job security, not to mention being at the mercy of the whims of the rich. However, for plain, unassuming people like you with little wealth or connections, it was the only path you saw to survive in this world.

“Yes, Monsieur.” You didn’t really feel like explaining yourself. You learned the hard way that people like him wouldn’t understand anyways. "It is the role given to me in life."

“I'm afraid I do not understand. Were you forced by someone to pursue this path?"

"I wouldn't say forced, exactly. It's more that I'm making use of what limited resources I'm given in life. Governesses are always needed after all, and it's a perfectly respectable job for someone like me to support myself and my family."

In your opinion, some people were fated to become beautiful brides or famous adventurers, while others were destined to a life of being in the background. You knew from a young age that you were the latter. It was far wiser and easier to accept that and face it head on. 

"Hmm…" Neuvillette said. He seemed to be thinking deeply about your words, which was a first for you. "You have very strong sense of purpose, Miss."

"I suppose I do. Although I prefer to think of it as accepting the inevitable. I’ve already been preparing myself for it, anyway. We are all given different roles in life by fate, and this is mine."

Neuvillette didn't say anything. Most likely, he was baffled by your words. You found that people got uncomfortable when you talked about fate, but you didn’t really know how else to explain it. Honestly, you were surprised at yourself for being so chatty as well. Maybe it was the darkness of the night, or maybe you drank too much champagne, but you found yourself talking about such things more easily.

At least he didn't attempt to change your mind or give you some cliched rousing speech to "follow your heart" or "never give up" like most others you told this to.

The two of you reached the arch, and the lights of the mansion appeared in the distance. You could even hear the music from here. 

"We've arrived at the arch," you turned to him and curtsied once more. "Thank you very much for accompanying me, Monsieur Neuvillette." 

"Ah…" he said, almost as if he was surprised by the abruptness of how you're leaving him. He's probably not used to being treated this way, you mused to yourself. "Before you go, may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

You debated internally whether or not you should refuse. Having your name known by powerful people seemed like it could lead to trouble, but you couldn't think of any good reason to refuse him without making yourself look suspicious. You decided to compromise by only giving him your first name.

"Miss [Name]..." he said. Your name felt strange to hear your own name coming from his mouth. You weren't sure you liked it much. "I'll remember it."

That sounds weirdly ominous, you thought to yourself. He sounds like a villain who will show up later in the story when you least expect it. Your imagination liked to amuse itself in this way sometimes. 

You said goodbye to him once again and headed back to the ball. You swore you could feel his eyes on your back as you walked away.

Previous | Next

[lillysilvermoon]

Which Feminine Energy do you have?

Pile 1

You are in the light feminine spectrum, you have a very gentile, loving and nurturing energy, but it's actually well balanced!! You see, we have both feminine and masculine energy, and both of yours are in the light feminine. This means even when you have to be more rational or do some job or be put in a situation where you need to be in you Yang side, your femininity still shines. You are very connected with your emotions, intuition and spiritual side. You can be someone very sensitive depending what happens maybe you can have the need to walk away and never comeback mood, when you are putted in a place with too much hostility you probably have a hard time standing up for your self, since you are well balanced you would try to find a common ground to get through the work without engaging in any kind of competition. In the other hand, when you get attached or harassed by others you can - and will - indeed defend your beliefs, because your feminine and masculine are balanced you would be defensive, assertive and determined not to just defend what you believe and care for but to pursue your dreams and goals. I just heard "fiercely kind". You have this ability, some can even envy it, to defend what you believe with a lot of classy and calmness. Some of you probably like arts, like painting, drawing, playing instruments (and you don't have to be perfect or super good, you just enjoy it, like some hobby of y'all). You have a innocent look and charming vibes, and a very diplomatic personality. Most of you probably are The Mediator of the group and have a very child like personality

Y'all also attract a lot of sexual attention especially from men but most of you are shy and need someone who makes you feel safe to let your spontaneous side appear.

Since you are well balanced you probably have a dreamy looks - and can be a day dreamer sometimes - you are very warm and grounding, you are not afraid of be vulnerable and this authenticity together with your vulnerability makes other lower their guards. You do no game, you a very emotional available person.

Signs: full moon, water signs (scorpio, pisces and cancer), virgo, air and fire placements are important, 5, 555, 222, 5555

Pile 2

It's 222 right now lmao maybe it's a important angel number for someone here BUT let's get into your reading, shall we?

Well, your feminine energy is very free, one of your cards was 2 of Wands and the world, definitely a free spirit. You like to travel over the sea, see new places and meet new people, very extroverted energy. You know I just thought about the Gamine archetype, and there is this phrase of Princess Diana "I don't go by the rule book... I leas from the heart not head", isn't that you don't respect legal rules or anything, but you have a certainly disregard for protocol and social rules or what people call "socially acceptable", you do what you want just following your heart, just heard the phrase from Pocahontas "she goes wherever the wind takes her". Your feminine energy is very free, you do what you think is correctly regards if others approve or not. You probably will manage to have some youthful charm even with adulthood. You captivate others by your sense of humor. You have an unselfconscious sensual side and lightness that enthralls. You are receptive, compassionate and simply free.

Signs: fire signs (Leo, aries and sagittarius), cancer, financial problems, travel, 2222, 333, 444, 222, travels, ocean.

Pile 3

I don't even finished shuffling the cards and just heard "boss b*itch" and "don't take sh*it from anyone" guess we have our boss girl pile🤣. Okay I finished shuffling the cards and also heard "charming personality" and "luxurious" soooooo let's get started I'm excited. First you clearly have very strong personality, you stand up for yourself and speak your truth, you definitely don't like injustice and you fight for what's right, you definitely are in the Boss archetype (but I will talk about this later). You like to experience life, trade over seas, and probably would get involved in long distance relationships or holidays romances. Mix of beauty and brains, but with a touch of hearts, because you have a very emotional and romantic side, but is not everyone here ( actually for this Pile I think it's a VERY small group). You have a very confident aura, you like to move and planning forward to see your hard work paying off.

When a successful man meets you is like perfect match. Y'all are SO GIRL BOSS I CAN'T- really, most of you strive for success and power, your work and knowledge are very important to you, very goal oriented and honestly? You don't really need anyone, very independent, so when a man senses this, that you don't fundamentally needs him, you will ignite his instincts to chase and conquer (I'm SMILING here y'all are so damn good at this, please share your tips with us 🤣🤣). But you know what is funny? You probably thrive well in Male environments, most likely enjoy conversations about business or political stuff, but you have a very emotional side, you deal with your emotions in a very private away and don't like to share with others. But with the people you trust, you can be very sweet and sensitive. Besides, you a very romantic side. I just saw a imagine in my minds eye of a woman laying on her (very fancy) sofa in a living room (y'all know this kind of minimalist rich decoration? It's like this) reading a romance.

You also have a very luxurious personality, you like fancy stuff and care a lot about your appearance.

Signs: libra, Taurus, 1, pearl necklace, tiffany's, 1111, 66, 33, 5.

Pile 4

Like pile 1 you a very light feminine side, but while pile 1 is well balanced you let your heart rule over your heart (this means you have very feminine energy but are imbalanced) but let's see. You probably have been given too much without receive nothing in return. Maybe you feel overly sensitive, needy and emotionally exhausted. BUT, you are more than capable of overcome this, you see, since you are very connected with your heart and have a very kind, compassionate nature, it's easier for you to fall of track, but you have a courageous heart, you are not afraid of moving on of people or situations and do the work to progress, you also may like to travel and have a tendency to holiday romance like our friend 3. You have a tendency to go inwards and do self reflection (which helps you back to balance with your femininity). You have a very nurturing, maternal and kind nature, some kind of unaffected charm you know? It's the simple things, the sparkle in your eyes, the away you move your hands or your voice that makes others fall for you.

Signs: new moon, Taurus and libra placements are important, 555, 33333, 444.

Here it is♡ I hope y'all liked, I had SO MUCH fun doing this reading and hope you enjoy it. See you soon, lots of love.

- Lia

[weemietime]

One thing that often gets thrown in our faces when we discuss Jewish indigeneity is that converts are not always ethnically Jewish. I hate to break it to you all, but ethnicity is separate from race. Ethnicity is your culture. Converts are indeed ethnically Jewish. They have literally been accepted into the tribe, which is literally what we say when welcoming them ("welcome to the tribe," verbatim).

I am a convert. I am Irish, Polish and French. Guess what, I am 1/8th Ashkenazi. My great-grandfather left Poland before World War 2. He lost his entire family who stayed. Our family tree stops with him. That intergenerational trauma? Passed down to me.

He was a drunk. He abused my grandma. He hid her heritage from her and conversely from us for decades. My grandma has NPD, my mom has AVPD and I have SZPD. I found his journals ~24, which vindicated to me what I've always suspected since I was a child. I was frequently bullied with antisemitic slurs in school, because I have always been openly and fervently opposed to antisemitism and they turned their bullying onto me.

Before I confirmed my heritage I have been practicing Judaism since I was 19. I am religious. I feel it in my soul and I have always known I am a Jew. I speak Hebrew. My culture is Jewish, we call it Yiddishkeit - "Jewishness." This is a form of qualia. You simply know what it feels like inside your body.

Israel is my homeland. I have felt the pull and longing to return home for my entire life. Finding out that the reason why my family is so fractured is because they were all murdered in the Holocaust, just vindicated my feelings. A lot of converts have similar stories. Because we know we are Jewish, and then surprise surprise, it turns out we have Jewish ancestry.

But even for those who don't, they are still ethnically Jewish and Israel is still their homeland. Why? Because they have completed the arduous and complex process of immigration into the Jewish tribe. Because they have adopted the culture, history, language, and religion of the tribe. Because it is a spiritual connection to this piece of land. Our souls were at Sinai, too. We received the Torah and became Jewish in that very moment just like every other Jew. That is why the Shulchan Aruch says when the convert comes to convert and not when the gentile comes to convert.

And as the actual real indigenous population of Israel Jews have the sole right to determine who is entitled to call themselves Jewish and who is entitled to claim Israel as their own. We are not strangers coming in to appropriate Jewish indigeneity, we have been accepted as a member of this indigenous group. A full member. The same as any born Jew - and even this term is misleading because we are also born Jews, our soul has been Jewish since Sinai, we simply had to complete the rituals of returning to our tribe.

[faghubby]

My married lover

(this is based on a true relationship but a collection of encounters over several years)

Dan was married and considered himself a straight man. But the first time I met him we where in a bar that catered to the alphabet. He approached me straight away. He bought me a drink.

"I like to take you down the street to the motel and have my way with you" he said boldly. I was memorized by his bold and honest demeanor. His hand grabbed my crotch under the table.

"You are a little sissy bitch aren't you?" He asked. I just blushed. I was dressed from work. How would he know? My dirty jeans and work boots. I didn't look like a sissy. But he was right. I just nodded. He stood paid the bill and led me by the hand out of the bar. He opened his car door for me. My truck was right there I thought but didn't say a word just went with him. He checked into the motel and led me again by the hand like a child to the room.

"Strip" he commanded. Shaking I did as he said. He had me leave my satin panties with little roses all over them. My dick straining to break out of them. I dropped and unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. It was so big I thought. Later finding out it was 9 inches of amazing thick cock. I sucked his cock. Licking his cock and balls I needed his cock. My jaw hurt by the time he came all over my face. As I cleaned my face he started to explain what he wanted.

"My wife let's me have these little games, to satisfy my little cravings for what she considers beneath her. I need to someone submit, to make them submit." He explained.

"You need to submit don't you?" He smiled his hand grabbed my ass. I just nodded.

"Do you know about chastity?" He asked.

"Yes" I said my voice trembling.

"It is required" Dan explained. "I will want you to submit to alot more" his hand reached into my panties his fingers rubbed my asshole.

"I understand" I told him.

"I may spank you" Dan warned me.

"I understand" I said

"I am going to fuck you now" Dan told me. I didn't resist just turned and bent over the bed. He had lube and lubed my ass as he tore my panties from my body. He was not gentile or slow. He forced his monster cock into my hole. I cried but stiffled my scream. As he raped my ass. No other way to describe it. He smacked me as he pounded away on my ass. I don't know how long he fucked me for but it was the longest event of my life. He finally filled my ass with his seed. When finished he held me. My head rested against his chest. As Dan asked me about my life, and experiences. He was gentle and caring at this point. After about an hour and a long talk he drove me back to my truck.

The very next day I started getting presents delivered to my house. First flowers thanking me for a lovely evening. A few days later I recieved a chastity cage. It was quite small. Various lingerie, even a dress after that. Everything fit perfectly I had no idea how he knew. When I got a message to meet him at the motel again. I went in the new lingerie but wore my boy clothes not willing to go out in a dress. I managed to fit into the tight cage after several attempts.

Dan looked disappointed that I had not worn the dress but he immediately put his own lock on my cage. He then tied my hands before he fucked me again hard and fast stokes. He pulled my hair and I called out. He stopped suddenly and shoved a gag into my mouth. Then started his assault on my ass again. After he finished he pulled me to him.

"Next time you don't wear what I tell you I swear you will take my whole fucking fist up that pussy of yours" he hissed in my ear. He then pulled me across his lap. Pinning me he smacked my ass.

"Keri left a mess in her car" he told me. Then another blow. "Keri vulgar little mouth swears but won't suck cock" he told me then another blow. I was being punished for what I figured was his wife had done. He continued listing a rash of small things but obviously they bothered him. When he was done, he untied me. And removed the gag. I cuddled up to him begging forgiveness for Keri's wrongdoings. I reached down and stroked his cock. As I did. As he grew hard I opened my mouth and sucked his cock. He seemed to really enjoy it being completely relaxed. I slid down and licked his asshole.

"OH you little slut, trying to make me a faggot. You will have to stay locked up till next time for that" he told me. I didn't care I licked his ass again. Teasing him until he exploded in my mouth.

Dan was true to his word leaving me locked in chastity for 10 days till we met up again. I changed into the dress in truck then ran to the motel room door. He did unlock me and let me masterbate in the bathroom out of his view before he locked me back up. He added toys, and sometimes didn't have sex at all. The first time he took a paddle to my ass I thought I would die. He told me how I was preserving his marriage all his frustration and unsatisfied sexual energy went to me. Allowing him to have a very happy marriage.

As time went by I even got presents from his wife. He liked me locked. But if he wasn't going to see me far a while he did unlock me. Having me put it on a few days before we where to meet. He also understood that I could see other people. But would be upset if I was unable to meet him. And I would pay for it when we did.

He never did fist me, but some of the toys he has used came close.

God I hope he calls again soon!

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Saheb, Bibi aur Ghulaam

#2 Monta Re

For the lovelies who are celebrating IPK to its finest @arshifiesta

Character. Gentility. Obedience.

These were the jewels of being an honourable woman and Khushi Dasgupta had none of those.

Her character, a question ever since she was born out of a wedlock between a British soldier who never returned and a Bengali singer who never sang again. The only thing she had left was her extended family who reluctantly gave their name to her and her father’s hazel eyes.

Her gentility was nowhere to be found for she was to be often found at pro independence speeches or singing revolutionary songs. Her mother’s talent was the last thing she inherited. It is said she had driven off at least seven suitors with impeccable terrible grace, off key singing and barely controlled tongue.

Obedience was what her family tried beating into her. But perhaps it was her aunt’s gentility and selfless, guiding hand that Khushi obeyed her family as a debt owed to to the kind woman.

She took the effort to recount the love story the city never saw.

Shashikala never approved her sister’s decision of singing. Yet when Ganga Devi Burman took the stage by storm, she had no option but to smile. Especially when she fell right off the stage and landed into the arms of a British soldier - Lt. Kennedy Watson.

If it hadn’t been for the summer tan, Ganga would have never found him appealing. Definitely not for his hazel eyes nor for his flawless understanding of Bangla and its literature.

After all, he was born in the same city as her.

At first Kennedy fought with the feelings he felt for Ganga for she pushed him to unlearn the imperial love for his country if he wished to love her. Then he fought for the land he was raised in as opposed to land he was taught to worship.

The first day Kennedy returned bloody, with a rebellion in his eyes that Ganga saw in her revolutionary brothers eyes - she gave her heart, soul and a kiss-

This is the part of the story of the story where Khushi always giggled, making Shashikala shush her before continuing, continuing to stroke Khushi’s head on her lap.

And then, Kennedy did propose to Ganga. They had planned a long wedding. One Christian to honour his God. One Hindu to honour hers.

This is where Shashikala would end the story for the wedding never happened.

It was tale as old as time. Just when everything good was about to happen, the opposite occurred. The imperialists were not happy to find one of their own defect. He disappeared without a trace, leaving Ganga, their child and love without a name.

Khushi hugged her Mashi (aunt) even closer. Despite the tragic tale being her favorite lullaby, even as an adult, she could only hope for a love as strong as her parents.

And hoped to be a human as kind as her Mashi.

— — —

Things changed dramatically as Shashikala Mashi passed away due to an early sudden heart attack.

The house grew colder, the perceptions of her more apparent, and her burden on the financially strife family heavier.

Khushi had to be sent off. There were three other sons to marry and two daughters to be married off.

The man who arrived with gifts at her doorstep to relieve the Dasguptas of their burden neither promised a love story like her parents, nor kindness like her aunt.

Sharp eyed, broad framed, wealthy and the heir of the Mullick family - Shyam Mullick was here to find a second wife in Khushi.

Dread settled in her stomach as her relatives seemed pleased with the money in front, even though the man seemed at least twenty years older than Khushi.

Or that he was already married to the Anjali Rani Tagore. The finest lineage, and a pool of infinite wealth, wisdom and beauty.

Khushi ran up the stairs. She had to run. Run as far as her two legs could take her. Where did she make a mistake? When did that man see her and fancy her? Was her relatives so eager to dust her off their hands?

“Oh Maa, bachao amake,” Khushi prayed to her Goddess and ran through multiple roofs.

Except one gave away and she fell straight into someone’s arms.

She opened her eyes and stared into the strangers face. Brown eyes, clenched jaws, perfectly shaped lips and a gaze that set her heart fluttering.

Was he a prince?

But since when did princes dress up like an English babu?

The sound of hurried footsteps broke them apart. Khushi turned red, her skin flaming up at where his fingers touched her skin.

Gently, as if she weighed a feather, he set her down. Worry returned to his face and he seemed to have aged in an instant.

“Arnob-da…” a man panted.

“Ei boka, kotobar bolbo Arnav-da doesn’t like to be called Arnob” another said.

Arnav glared at the two men - probably his househelp?

“I know where he went.”

Rage filled Arnav’s eyes. And without another word he stormed out.

— — —

The monsoon storm died out overnight, leaving Khushi to enjoy one of the last things she could - a small ride on a ferry across Hooghly.

Her protests against the marriage fell on deaf ears. If anything, her ears still rang from the slap Pishimoni gave her.

Shyam Babu offered to assist in Payal’s marriage. Why was he so intent on marrying Khushi? What did Khushi even do? How did he even get to meet her?

“O Maa,” this time Khushi touched the holy Hooghly river, “please help me,”

The ferry bumped into the shore and Khushi collected herself to step out when,

“Tumi?”

“Aapni?”

Khushi blinked at Arnav. Standing tall, this time in not his entirety of a tailored piece suit, just in his full length shirt, suspenders and pant - he took a keen look at her.

Khushi touched her cheek. Did the slap leave a mark? She fixed the edge of her saree. After a moment alone, she spoke.

“Sorry, you must want this boat alone,”

“Are you going to the other side?” Arnav asked. Khushi couldn’t help but feel that she was being studied. She nodded.

“OI, TARATARI-” the ferryman swallowed his hollering as Arnav shot a glare at him.

Khushi didn’t know what happened when he boarded the ferry. Except that the ferryman must have taken his anger out on by moving it away before Arnav could fully stand.

Leading him to fall right on Khushi.

Khushi prayed her eyes didn’t reveal her secrets and desires. And prayed that he would be unable to read anything at all.

She scrambled to sit up and sat horrified at the red on Arnav’s chest.

Did she kill him?

“Oh this bloody pen!” Khushi sighed in relief at his curse and his discomfort over a broken red pen. The ferry rocked out of nowhere, splashing him with water.

Khushi could spy a devious smile on the ferryman’s paan stained lips.

Arnav let out a colourful string of words as he attempted to wipe himself, leading to the ink to spread more viciously on him.

Khushi burst into laughter as he got completely worked up.

Oh it had been years since she laughed this hard.

— — —

“Laughing suits you,”

Khushi laid awake all night. The depression of her impending wedding not settling in for the three words he said.

And the thousand he didn’t.

He saw the slap. And she saw the tick in his jaw. The questions he refrained himself from asking. The stories she refrained herself from telling.

Khushi tried sleeping, these days of Durga Pujo were peace. She could try running away for real.

But with whom?

Khushi’s heart twisted into knots as a face became clear.

Without a full name and more than twenty words exchanged, Khushi saw more hope in a stranger than a suitor.

Oh dear, none had a more foolish mind than of Khushi Dasgupta.

— — —

A/N: omg thank you for all the love before! Let me know how you liked this chapter 💕 (also sorry not proofread!)

Tagging some lovelies here @chutkiandchotte @barshifan @laadgovernorandsankadevi @laad-governess @shiyaravi @msbhagirathi @phuljari @hand-picked-star @aye-masakalii @featheredclover

[jewish-vents]

Here's what I don't get as a non-Zionist Jew critical of Israel:

Why do anti Zionist Jews and Gentiles refuse to acknowledge the antisemitism of their spaces? Yes false accusations of antisemitism exist, I've seen it.

However, why is the response then: NO antisemitism exists? It's ridiculous and stupid. Is the support for Palestinians so fake and fragile that if they do acknowledge the existence of rampant unchecked Jew hatred they will begin to waver?

This behaviour has long pushed me away from the anti Zionist crowd. Years and years ago I realised I couldn't speak to these individuals whose response to Israel's "everything is antisemitism" was "nothing is antisemitism" which forced me to leave. That's my fault though: when your hatred for Israel is the focus rather than supporting Palestinians, that will happen. I really wanted to surround myself with people I thought were against the oppression of Palestinians and Israel's role in that. I ended up seeing hypocrisy, double standards and a weird antisemitic obsession with Israel where it is the root of all evil. Not to sound like one of those people but I noticed the vibes were off since day one. They are incapable of seeing Jews as people and it's so in your face it's laughable.

Lastly: I find most anti Zionist Jews repulsive because of this. They are the first to say "There's no antisemitism in the college protests". But how would they know? They refuse to interact with the concept of antisemitism because they think doing so would make them one of the bad ones. You're turning your head away, how would you know? Then invalidating your fellow Jews' experiences. If your anti Zionist colleagues are happily harassing Jews under the guise of "they're evil child killers genocide supporters nazis etc", how are you not concerned? This response is not normal. It's like when racists get overjoyed when they see a non-white person committing crimes because this means they can be racist and no one will bat an eye because "well that person is bad right?". In this case, the ultimate crime is being a Zionist which is so convenient because many Jews are. That means it's open season. The irony isn't lost on me how these people harassing Zionist Jews are communists who don't give a fuck that communism has oppressed people.

There's also the nuance of our small numbers. There's only like 15 million of us. Most have never met a Jew. Most know nothing about us. These are facts. That makes these behaviours even more dangerous. Also "we can't trust what anyone says is antisemitism because of liars" sounds quite familiar. I've seen and heard this about rape. I've seen and heard this about people of colour (conservatives screaming "everything is racism now" hello?). Overall it is plain old antisemitism. The Jews are liars is nothing new and getting quite old.

.

[tiktokantisemites]

That annefrank.education channel grosses me out. Here’s why. I’m trying to be gentle, because the person behind it is a minor:

Getting a tattoo in the memory of Anne Frank is not respecting her. She was a child, not your inspiration. Comparing yourself to her, claiming that you as a gentile understand what she experienced because you suffered through the covid lockdown, is absolutely out of touch. Jewish people have been asking others to let her rest for years. She was a child. Her diary was not published to be inspirational. It was published to show that she was a child who was killed by the Nazis.

[wherethematchisheld]

Yeah so this hits different now.

Initially this was stuff I wrote pre-release to Boothill. I just wanted a semi-angsty little thought about him adopting a baby after he got mechanized, only for his canon story to absolutely o b l i t e r a t e my heart. So I figured that I’d post this here. Everything below is what I thought Boothill would be like holding his baby for the first time, pre-release.

So I had a thought about Boothill from hsr.

And it’s this;

I feel like, if he would ever have a child, he’d be enamored by how small and squishy they are.

He used to be human- used to have that same delicate softness to him. But he’s long forgotten that feeling of delicacy. Now, nothing about him is delicate. He’s all sharp edges and harsh lines, metal scraping against synthetics and rubber, everything optimized for bounty hunting. Everything made perfect for his job, his purpose, and his new life.

But let’s say he did have a child. Maybe he retired, and maybe through some means procured an infant-, most likely adoption.

I think towards the beginning he’d be averse to touching them with his hands. He’d tried before, gently caressing their cheek when they were just born, reveling in how small and sweet they were, before shrinking back with despair in his eyes when they whimpered uncomfortably at his inhuman touch.

He’d been so excited, so happy and relieved when he’d heard they’d been safely born. He’d walked up to the crib, and just stared with glossy eyes for a minute at the sweet little bundle cuddled up into the blankets. Their round face, their chubby little cheeks, and soft skin… it all felt like something out of a dream to him.

And yet they hated it when he touched them. When their own father touched them, they recoiled, disgusted by his robotic form. He couldn’t say he blamed them, and yet a part of him had hoped that maybe… just maybe they’d enjoy the cool taste of his automata hands.

It was a nurse who had saved him, positing to him of how he could hold his baby with blankets instead. And though he was hesitant, he eventually agreed to carefully hold the little one close. And when his tiny bundle of joy finally filled the space in his arms, he couldn’t help but sob in ardent pride and joy, squeezing them softly and pressing his face close to them; the only human part of him that remained.

“Papa’s sorry, baby… papa’s sorry he’s not as warm as he used to be.” He whispers to the bundle, pressing his lips to their small head with a teary smile, nuzzling their cheek with tender protectiveness. They’re so unbelievably beautiful and delicate, he can’t stop the tears from flowing. He almost feels unworthy of even touching them, of being able to hold this precious little sweetheart so close to him and his metallic heart. Yet almost paradoxically, he’d fight the world itself if they ever tried to separate him from them.

When he feels their tiny hand gently touch the bridge of his nose, he shudders a small breath in joy. He’d never felt more grateful that at least his face preserved his former humanity, keeping him from devolving into some gunslinging Hephaestus of his own making, just another mech wandering the outlands in search for another bounty.

He kisses their tiny knuckles tenderly, so light it’s almost not even there. Their little eyes open, looking up to him with so much curiosity. No hatred. No prejudice. No disgust. Just curiosity, and even joy. His smile is absolutely darling, as are the words that spill from him, praises that feel so sweet they could cause cavities.

“Papa loves you so much, my little baby.” His voice loses its confidence and white-hot recklessness, displaced and lost in a fog of sweet affections and gentility. It feels alien, coming from his sharp mouth, but he could care less when he sees how his little bundle smiles so brightly.

“Do you even know how much he loves you? All the things he would do for you? How far he would go to see you happy and safe?” His forehead rests against theirs, bending himself over to where he stands above them in a protective arch, hiding them from the world. It was maybe an act of jealousy, something done to keep their curious eyes on him and him alone. In that moment, nothing should have mattered more to them than him; just as nothing mattered more to him than them.

All those pretty beauties of the world and those worlds beyond- they would come later, but for now, he just wanted them to see him. To see their papa, and no one else.

[gojuo]

Showrunners claiming being "feminist" is the whole circus. They screwed every woman's characterization for high Rhaenyra up:

Book!Helaena was an political advisor who usually participated on Councils,don't shy away from disagreeing with Aegon and he actually listens her advises. She was incredibly loved by the smallfolk and was brave enough to claim Dreamfyre. On the show she did not even have a Coronation or her crown neither(another woman wearing a crown except Rhaenyra is a crime).

Book!Alicent was a witty,smart and incredibly charismatic woman dutiful at the old King Jaehaerys and her sons. She was so interesting: she was disrespected on so many ways for Viserys and had every right to be upset. No other woman in Westeros had to suffer having her first born son be desinherited and ignored by his father (except Ellia from the show and on the book Jon is just a bastard) Alicent,Helaena and Aegon could had been such incredible characters on the show

The Helaena treatment is ssoooooo beyond evil. I can't believe that this fandom is still bitching about the same old tired 3 talking points months after season 1 has finished but not a single peep about how misogynistic the writers have been towards Helaena.

Being beloved by the Smallfolk is not something that randomly happens. It has to be a deliberate move, because technically, Helaena is a public figure and near every public outing she makes has to be a thought-out decision to a certain extent. She can't just willy-nilly go out into the streets of King's Landing, mingling with the people and getting to know them and have an impact on them in such a way that they would love her so much to rise up in revolt in her name. In a way, the cultivation of her public image is reminiscent of Margaery, with one major difference: no deliberate manipulation at play. There is, after all, not a single indication anywhere in any canon that Helaena was a manipulative person in the way that Margaery was, no. What this was — what the Smallfolk adoring her was — was the tangible proof of Helaena's bravery to be out in the streets with the people of King's Landing, the fortitude of her to break down the invisible line between high-born royalty and low-born commoners, a testament to her graciousness and gentility and the affirmation of her adventurous heart. She was the first one of the Targtower siblings to claim a dragon, she showed her political acumen when she and her mother drafted the more than generous peace terms for Aegon to send to Rhaenyra, she had an incredibly complex relationship with her husband who she shares such a horrific trauma-bond with which is, to this day, still unparalleled by any other couple in this entire franchise, and she was a truly witty and humorous person ...

... and all of that characterization was thrown out of the window for the show. She is an extra to someone else's story in every. single. scene. she appears in. Her first scene as a child was to cement to the audience how "weird" and "unorthodox" she is. To show the audience that she is now on the autism-spectrum apparently. She is a dragon dreamer but all she does is utter some vague one-sentence prophecies no one can make any sense of, now always having to live psychologically in isolation because of this, which is the complete opposite of how life was for her in Fire and Blood. She speaks two or three sentences during the dinner scene, and it was to service the contrast between Jace and Aegon as people, it wasn't about her. We get a two-second shot at her children and she isn't even interacting with them. Do not even get me started on how the show completely erased how Helaena used to bring the kids to Viserys every single night to sit down together and hear him speak of tales of the past as he lay dying. These passages in the book weren't without reason, they were there to humanize all four of them — Helaena, Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor — and to garner sympathy from the reader. Blood and Cheese is one of the most disgusting things to have ever happened in all of the books, but the brutalization of all of these characters was that much more awful because we had actually spent some time together with them in the text, because we had gotten to see them be loved, because we had actually gotten to know them, even if only a little. And the show erased every single fucking thing concerning this point. Everything.

And if that wasn't enough, showrunners and writers then went on to make her an extra during her own coronation scene. That coronation was about Helaena just as much as it was about Aegon and they fucking took that from her! And for what? For what did they change her character this much? All to turn her into the fucking female lead of a fucking incestuous love triangle which is a fucking plotline straight ripped off from three fucking different characters in a different fucking part from canon. FUCKKKKK!!!!

Don't even get me started on Alicent. They gave her raw as fuck book character and motivations and narrative purpose to fucking Otto of all people in the show. She has become the abeyance of her own storyline! And instead of the fandom putting attention to this type of misogynistic writing Helaena and Alicent have been victim of by the writers, I'm having to suffer through the same played-out takes on how being an Aegon fan means being a rape apologist or how Alicent is an evil person because Helaena doesn't like to be touched. For fuck's sake GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!!!!!

[phyrestartr]

Hi hiii :3 if you don't mind, could i ask a few questions about your story entitled "Icarus, i am devoted"?

1. What would Sukuna feel if the reader was to pass away?

2. How is Sukuna as a father? Is he caring? neglectful? abusive?

Yo yo! Oh man, I've actually thought about this a lot too lol...

1. Sukuna would NOT BE OK. If someone caused their death, Sukuna would go on a rampage and destroy everything the hitman ever loved or even looked at. Bro has 0 chill--very much a "my partner calms me down" kinda toxic energy LOL. Otherwise, if the reader passed bc of an illness, Sukuna would become vvv self-destructive

2. He's very closed off as a parent u-u he doesn't hate his kid(s), but he doesn't necessarily know how to be a father, nor did he ever really think about what having kids would entail; he mostly approved of it because it kind of locked the reader in with him for good (baby trap!!!), and he did everything in his power to make sure there was no second miscarriage bc who knows what would've happened if they'd lost another bebé u-u

I also envision Sukuna getting a toxic/cruel/unforgiving version of Wasuke growing up, while Yuuji got more leniency and gentility, being the younger child. SO, Sukuna veers towards toxic ways, and when a child comes into the picture and the reader is just parenting his ass off and completely in love with the bebé and w being a parent, Sukuna is just like "?????" BUT i think reader would guide him through it and reassure him and his efforts to be a good papa 😭 ❤️ I'm also sure Sukuna would burn the world down for his bebés, but would tremble at the idea of having to sit down and play tea time or something LMAO

I ACTUALY HAVE A DRABBLE IN THR WORKS ABT SUKUNA FUMBLING AROUND AS A PARENT SO HOPEFULLY I CAN LOCK IT IN AND POST IT SOON FJWBFNWND TY FOR THE ASK!!

[wangxianficrecs]

once upon a time, 很久很久以前 by gentil-minou (Flyingsuits)

once upon a time, 很久很久以前

by gentil-minou (Flyingsuits) (@gentil-minou)

M, WIP, 52k, Wangxian

Summary: Once upon a time, there lived a magical boy who was lost far, far away from home… Wei Wuxian is perfectly ready to celebrate another mediocre birthday alone when a ten-year-old shows up on his doorstep claiming to be his son. This kid is convinced they and everyone in his town were dragged away from their xianxia world and cursed to live as ordinary citizens in a mundane small town, and he's certain that Wei Wuxian is the key to saving them all. He sounds insane, but, well, Wei Wuxian likes him. Besides, what else can he do but follow him? (A Wangxian AU based on the show Once Upon a Time, no prior knowledge of said show necessary) Kay's comments: This story is super fascinating and has me completely hooked! Set in a modern setting, Wei Wuxian lives quite the miserable and lonely life until A-Yuan suddenly appears and basically leads him into a little village where he encounters Lan Wangji amongst other familiar characters and things are actually more than a little strange in that village. Wangxian's relationship starts out incredibly well only to immediately crash and I'm so looking forward to how they will find their way back to each other. Excerpt: Until he hears a quiet cough and looks down to see a little boy. At first, he thinks maybe he’s a trick-or-treater who got a bit lost, but Wei Wuxian’s building is secured with a key and callbox entry. Plus, although he’s been wandering streets alone since forever, he’s pretty sure a kid this young would have a chaperone with him. He looks behind the kid and doesn’t see anyone else there. But instead of asking something sensible like where his chaperone may be or even if the kid’s lost, he blurts, “How did you get in?” The boy tilts his head and replies, “The front door. It wasn’t locked, I just walked in.” So much for secured entry. But that doesn’t really answer why there is a human child at his door at nearly midnight. There’s definitely a law somewhere that says that’s illegal, probably. The kid, who can’t be more than ten years old and really should have learned about stranger danger by now, beams up at him, as if technical breaking and entering is something to be proud of. Which, okay, maybe Wei Wuxian is kind of impressed by that.

pov alternating, modern setting, modern with magic, transmigration, amnesia, mystery, somebody lives/not everybody dies, wei wuxian has self-esteem issues, sad wei wuxian, lonely wei wuxian, single parent lan wangji, developing relationship, lan wangji/others, fluff and angst, slow burn, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, once upon a time fusion, curses

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)