#apparently there is a tiktok shop now??

[lichtecht]

every day i am thankful for being blissfully unaware of what is going on with tiktok

[pucksandpower]

So Good to Her

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the public reacts to the TikTok challenge you and Charles inadvertently participated in

Read So Good to Me (about the TikTok challenge) here

The TikTok that the British influencer posted of his encounter with you and your incredibly generous boyfriend quickly goes viral, racking up millions of views, likes, and comments within mere hours.

It spreads like wildfire across social media platforms, with people sharing it on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook — even LinkedIn of all places. Everyone marvels at this mystery woman with the boyfriend of all boyfriends who casually sent her €10,000 just to buy a pair of shoes.

In a cozy London flat, a group of university students and diehard Charles fans gather around a laptop, eyes wide as they watch the now-viral video for the umpteenth time.

“I can’t believe Charles has a secret girlfriend!” Megan, a petite blonde wearing a red Ferrari cap, exclaims. “How did we not know about this? We follow his every move!”

Her best friend Ethan nods in agreement, his brow furrowed. “Seriously, who is this girl? She’s drop dead gorgeous and apparently Charles is just casually sending her 10 grand for shopping sprees?”

“Okay but like, goals though,” Lexi chimes in dreamily, clutching a Charles Leclerc poster to her chest. “Imagine having a boyfriend who’s not only mega hot and talented but also spoils you rotten. She’s living the dream.”

Ethan scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Oh come on, he can’t just throw money around like that. I bet this whole thing was staged for clout.”

Megan shoots him a withering glare. “Don’t be ridiculous. What would be the point? Charles is already one of the most popular drivers on the grid, he doesn’t need to pull PR stunts for attention.”

“Plus did you see the way he talked to her on the phone?” Lexi points out, rewinding the video. “That was not acting, that was real love and affection in his voice. I’m so soft for them already, ugh.”

The trio falls silent as they watch the clip again, zeroing in on every little detail and facial expression from both Charles’ mystery girlfriend and the clearly shocked TikToker.

Ethan chuckles and shakes his head. “I still can’t get over her reaction though. Just a guy who loves driving fast cars — I mean, the cheek! She really knows how to keep a secret, gotta give her that.”

“An icon, honestly,” Megan declares. “The fact that she told him to donate the money to an animal shelter too ... okay, I can’t even be mad. She seems like a sweet person.”

Lexi sighs happily, starry-eyed. “They’re literally a power couple. The sheer confidence and BDE of it all. I’m so jealous but also like, rooting for them? We have to find out who this girl is!”

As if on cue, Megan’s phone pings with a Twitter notification. Her eyes widen as she swipes to view it. “Guys. GUYS. The TikToker just confirmed her first name is Y/N and posted another video with a few more details about her!”

“Well don’t just sit there, play it!” Ethan demands, practically launching himself across the couch to peer over Megan’s shoulder at her phone screen. Lexi scrambles to join them, bouncing with anticipation.

In the new clip, the TikToker is grinning excitedly at the camera, an extra bounce in his step as he walks along the same Monaco street where he first approached you.

“Right, so I’m sure by now you’ve all seen my video with Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend go absolutely mental viral,” he begins, running a hand through his artfully tousled hair. “Which, can I just say — thank you so much for the insane support and love, you lot are the best fans ever.”

“Get to the point,” Ethan mutters under his breath, earning a sharp “Shh!” from both girls.

“Anyway,” the TikToker continues. “After she left and I finally picked my jaw up off the floor, I did some digging. I headed to that little boutique she mentioned in the call with Charles, just to see if she actually went in and bought anything. Thought maybe if I asked the staff, they might be able to give me some more info, you know?”

Megan, Ethan, and Lexi all subconsciously lean closer to the small phone screen, hanging on to his every word.

“So get this — not only did she buy the shoes, she apparently also went next door and purchased, and I quote, a frankly alarming amount of lingerie. The cashier said she dropped over 5 grand like it was nothing!”

Lexi lets out a scandalized gasp as Ethan chokes on his sip of Red Bull. Megan just shakes her head in wonderment. “The actual legend,” she murmurs reverently.

The TikToker laughs and waggles his eyebrows suggestively at the camera. “I don’t know about you lot, but I’m definitely sensing some spicy thank you for the shopping money activities were planned for a certain Ferrari driver, if you know what I mean. Get in there, Charles!”

“Gross, I so did not need that visual,” Ethan grumbles, but there’s a slight smirk playing on his lips all the same.

“Oh shut up, as if you wouldn’t do the exact same if you were dating Charles,” Lexi retorts with a playful shove to his shoulder.

“ANYWAY,” the TikToker presses on, “I did manage to squeeze a few more details out of the lovely shop girl. Apparently Charles’ girlfriend is named Y/N, no last name given for privacy reasons. But she’s a regular customer and, I quote, an absolute sweetheart who only ever has glowing things to say about her man. So there you have it, folks — Y/N and Charles are the real deal and we’re all just peasants watching a fairytale unfold.”

Megan sighs dreamily as the video ends. “Y/N and Charles,” she repeats to herself, already typing the names into her social media search bars. “God, even their names sound good together. I have to find out everything about her.”

“Dibs on making their ship name hashtag go viral,” Lexi calls out, already furiously typing away on her own phone.

Ethan snorts and rolls his eyes affectionately at his friends, but there’s no denying the small, reluctantly impressed smile tugging at the corners of his mouth too. “I give it two days before they’re papped together on some glamorous date night now that the secret’s out. Hope she’s ready for the attention dating an F1 star brings.”

“With that level of confidence and the way Charles clearly adores her? I think our girl Y/N will handle the spotlight just fine,” Megan says confidently.

Lexi nods in firm agreement. “Yep, a true queen. Charles better lock that down and wife her up real quick before one of us tries to snatch her for ourselves!”

***

In a cozy apartment not far from the very street where you had your memorable encounter with the TikToker, three young women huddle around a laptop screen, eyes wide and jaws slack as they watch the now viral video for the umpteenth time.

“I can’t believe this,” mutters Isabelle, a pretty brunette with an impressively encyclopedic knowledge of Formula 1 stats. “Charles has a girlfriend? Since when?”

“And he just sent her €10,000 like it was nothing!” Exclaims Maia, nervously twirling a strand of her platinum blonde hair. “I mean, I know he’s loaded but holy shit, the way he spoils her ...”

The third girl, Claire, bites her lip, a pensive look on her delicate features. “Did you hear what she said at the end though? Just a guy who loves driving fast cars. She was obviously talking about Charles. But the way she said it, all mysterious and like it was some inside joke ... I don’t know, it just rubs me the wrong way.”

Isabelle scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Please, she was totally gloating. Didn’t even have the decency to act a little humble about the fact that THE Charles Leclerc is apparently head over heels for her.”

“Exactly!” Maia chimes in, nodding vigorously. “Like okay, congrats, you bagged a hot, rich, famous race car driver. No need to rub it in the rest of our faces.”

Claire wrinkles her nose. “I just don’t get the vibe that she actually cares about him, you know? I mean, who asks their boyfriend to send them money in the middle of the day for some stupid shoes? While he’s working? She seems like such a gold digger.”

“Ugh, you’re so right,” Isabelle agrees, her lips curling in distaste. “Poor Charles is probably blind to it because he’s so gone for her. He didn’t even hesitate to transfer that money!”

Maia sighs dramatically and falls back on the bed. “God, it’s so unfair. Why can’t I find a man who’s that generous and totally obsessed with me? I’d treat him so much better than she does, you can already tell.”

Claire hums and taps her chin thoughtfully. “You know what, I think this smells fishy. How do we even know she’s actually Charles’ girlfriend? For all we know, she could have paid some guy who sounds like him to play along for a TikTok clout.”

Isabelle’s eyes narrow as she considers this possibility. “That’s true ... I haven’t come across any photos of them together or anything. Why has no one ever seen her before if they’re supposedly so in love?”

“Exactly!” Claire exclaims, growing more animated. “I’ve been a Charles fan for years and I’ve never seen or heard anything about a girlfriend. If they’re really dating, there’s no way it wouldn’t have come out before now.”

Maia sits up, suddenly energized by this new conspiracy theory. “Oh my god, you’re right! She’s probably just some wannabe influencer trying to get famous by pretending to be with Charles. That’s so pathetic.”

Isabelle nods slowly, a determined glint in her eye. “You know what? We should do some digging. Try to find out who this girl really is and expose her for the fraud she clearly is. Charles and the world deserve to know the truth.”

“Yesss, I’m so down for an investigation!” Maia says gleefully. “Imagine if we’re the ones who reveal that this whole thing is fake. We’d be doing Charles a huge favor.”

Claire is already pulling up Instagram and Twitter on her phone. “Let’s start by going through the comments on that TikTok and seeing if anyone has identified her or posted any receipts. There have to be some clues somewhere.”

The girls spend the next few hours poring over social media, searching for any scrap of information they can find about the mystery woman who has supposedly captured Charles Leclerc’s heart. They work themselves into a frenzy, convincing each other more and more that you can’t possibly be Charles’ real girlfriend. In their minds, you’re clearly just an opportunistic clout chaser looking for your 15 minutes of fame.

“God, I hope Charles sees through her act soon,” Isabelle says for the hundredth time, shaking her head. “He’s too good for some two-bit gold digger who’s just using him.”

“We’ll make sure he finds out who she really is,” Claire assures her firmly. “And then he’ll have no choice but to dump her lying ass.”

Maia sighs wistfully, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. “Do you think once he’s single again, I might actually have a chance? Like, if I run into him at a race one day and strike up a conversation, maybe he’ll realize I’m the girl he’s meant to be with ...”

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Claire says with a laugh. “First step is taking down this fraud of a girlfriend. Then we can daydream about being Mrs. Leclerc.”

The girls giggle and go back to their social media sleuthing with renewed determination. They’ve decided you’re public enemy number one and they won’t rest until they’ve exposed you for the fake, money-hungry, clout-chasing liar they’re certain you must be. In their eyes, they’re crusaders for truth, fighting to save their beloved Charles from your clutches.

What they don’t realize, of course, is just how very real and very deep Charles’ feelings for you actually are ... and that you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, Internet conspiracy theories be damned.

***

In a dimly lit basement somewhere in Italy, a group of die-hard Charles Leclerc fans huddle around a computer screen, their jaws dropping as they watch the video for the umpteenth time.

“Guys, are you seeing this shit?” Enzo, the self-appointed leader of the group, asks incredulously. “Who the hell is this girl and how did she bag Charles freakin’ Leclerc?”

“Dude, we don’t even know for sure that it’s actually Charles,” Giovanni points out skeptically. “She never said his name. It could be some other rich dude with a fast car.”

Enzo scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Oh come on, who else could it be? €10,000 like it’s nothing, is it possible that Leclerc has a secret girlfriend we don’t know about all this time? A guy who likes driving fast cars? It’s obviously Charles! Our boy is LOADED and that’s exactly how he’d spoil his girl.”

Luca nods in agreement, a dreamy expression on his face. “God, can you imagine being with Charles though? Having him call you all those cute pet names and just showering you with love and gifts? I’d fucking die.”

“Yeah, she has to be the luckiest woman on the planet,” Enzo sighs wistfully. “I mean, I’m straight, but even I’d let Charles ruin me, you know what I’m saying?”

The other guys murmur and nod in emphatic agreement, all of them momentarily lost in a fantasy of being Charles Leclerc’s pampered significant other.

“Okay but like, how is this even fair?” Giovanni gripes, breaking the spell. “The rest of us mere mortals are out here busting our asses on Tinder and Hinge, praying a decent girl will swipe right, and Charles just gets to date a literal goddess who is probably a model?”

“Life isn’t fair, Gio,” Enzo says solemnly. “Charles is on a completely different level. He could have any woman he wants and they’d all say yes before he even finished asking. The rules don’t apply to a guy like that.”

Luca suddenly sits up straight, his eyes widening with realization. “Holy shit, guys. Do you know what this means? If Charles is taken, that’s one less F1 driver on the market for all those grid girl groupies to throw themselves at! Maybe the rest of us actually have a chance now!”

Giovanni snorts derisively. “Yeah, you wish. Those chicks are still gonna be busy trying to get with Sainz or Verstappen or Norris. They’re not gonna settle for some nobody Ferrari fan. Let’s be real.”

“Wow, way to kill the vibe, Debbie Downer,” Luca mutters. He turns back to the computer and hits replay on the video, watching enviously as the TikToker clearly shows the €10,000 bank transfer on your phone. “Seriously though, how is this chick not freaking the fuck out? If Charles Leclerc randomly sent me 10 grand I’d be screaming and probably pass out.”

“She’s probably used to it,” Enzo says with a shrug. “I bet this is like, a regular Tuesday for her. Just casually strolling around Monaco, stopping into designer stores whenever she feels like it, Charles’ black credit card weighing down her Hermès purse. The bougiest of WAG lives.”

“God, what I wouldn’t give to trade places with her for just one day,” Giovanni says longingly. “Can you imagine getting to wake up next to Charles every morning? Having him make you breakfast and give you forehead kisses and tell you how much he loves you in that sexy accent?”

“Okay, now you’re just torturing yourself, bro,” Luca laughs. “You’ll be lucky if you can get a Tinder match to agree to split the bill at McDonalds.”

“Why you gotta bring me back to my sad reality like that?” Giovanni groans, chucking a throw pillow at Luca’s head. “Let me live vicariously through Charles’ bougie mystery girlfriend for a little while longer, damn.”

Enzo sighs and leans back in his chair, hands behind his head. “You know what the craziest part of all this is? The fact that Charles managed to keep a whole ass girlfriend hidden from the world. Like, the media has been speculating about his love life forever and no one had a clue he was actually in a serious relationship. That man moves in silence like a ninja.”

“Yeah, and did you see how he just casually threw out that he loves her?” Luca gushes. “He was all I love spoiling you, you deserve the world. My dude is head over heels for this girl and I am LIVING for it.”

“Ugh, why can’t I find a man like that?” Giovanni whines dramatically. “All I want is a guy who will write me cute Instagram captions in three languages and buy out the Gucci store for me but I guess that’s too much to ask!”

“Maybe if you stanned Charles harder, the universe would reward you,” Enzo snarks. “Start leaving thirsty comments on his shirtless pics, see if that manifests your dream F1 boyfriend.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t already do that,” Giovanni retorts with a smirk. “How else do you think Oscar Piastri ended up in my DMs last night?”

“Wait, WHAT?” Luca and Enzo exclaim in unison, whipping their heads around to gape at their friend.

Giovanni bursts out laughing at their shocked faces. “I’m just kidding, jeez! You think I’d be sitting here listening to you losers if Oscar freaking Piastri actually messaged me? Puh-lease.”

“Man, don’t even joke about that,” Enzo grumbles, clutching at his heart. “You really had me going there for a sec.”

Luca huffs and slouches down in his seat. “Can we get back to being jealous of Charles’ sugar baby girlfriend now? I was enjoying that more than whatever the hell this conversation turned into.”

“She’s not his sugar baby!” Enzo argues. “They’re clearly in love! Did we watch the same video? The way he talked to her was mad cute. That’s his GIRL girl.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Luca concedes, holding his hands up in apology. “Charles might spoil her but he obviously adores her for more than just her looks. That’s the real relationship goals right there.”

“Imagine being so secure in your love that you can just ball out on your partner like that and know it’s only going to make them love you more,” Giovanni muses. “Cannot relate.”

Enzo nods sagely. “Charles is just built different, man. In more ways than one.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Luca agrees. “So, are we watching this video another 50 times or are we moving on to the Grill the Grid compilation I found of all of Charles’ most adorably flustered moments?”

Enzo grins maniacally and reaches for the mouse. “Oh, you know we’re watching the hell out of this absolute gift again. And then we’re gonna spend the next three hours cyberstalking Charles and seeing if we can find any other crumbs about who this legendary mystery woman is. For research purposes.”

“This is the most productive thing we’ve done in months and I’m not even ashamed,” Giovanni declares, cracking his knuckles in preparation for the intense social media deep dive they’re about to undertake.

***

In a crowded sports bar in Dublin, a group of die-hard Ferrari fans gather to watch the latest race. But today, there’s another bit of F1-related content that has their attention. They huddle around a phone, repeatedly watching the now-infamous TikTok video.

“Can you believe it? €10,000 just like that!” Exclaims James, a tall, lanky guy with a mop of curly hair. “I mean, I knew Charles was loaded but damn ...”

“Forget the money, did you see his girlfriend?” Tom, a stocky redhead, chimes in. “Absolutely stunning. Like, how does a race car driver land a girl like that?”

Mark, a quieter guy with glasses, rolls his eyes. “Uh, maybe because he’s Charles freaking Leclerc? The man’s a beast on the track and has the face of a Greek god. Girls probably throw themselves at him left and right.”

The guys all mutter in begrudging agreement, a note of envy coloring their voices. On screen, the video replays yet again, showing you confidently calling up your boyfriend and securing the small fortune without batting an eye.

“God, what I wouldn’t give to have a woman look at me the way she probably looks at Leclerc,” Tom sighs wistfully.

“In your dreams, mate,” James scoffs. “Girls like that are way out of our league. We can’t compete with a Ferrari paycheck and Monaco real estate.”

“Still doesn’t seem fair though,” grumbles Mark. “The dude’s already got it all — talent, fame, money. Leave some for the rest of us!”

On screen, the video reaches the part where you coolly inform the gobsmacked TikToker that you don’t need his measly €2,000 and he should donate it to an animal shelter instead. The guys let out low whistles, clearly impressed by your classy move.

“See, that right there, that’s what separates the Monegasque princess types from regular girls,” says James with an air of authority. “We would’ve taken the cash in a heartbeat.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m a man of principle,” Tom jokes, puffing out his chest exaggeratedly. The others snort and shove him playfully.

As the video ends, the guys sit back, each lost in their own wistful imaginings of what it must be like to be Charles Leclerc. To have the money, success, and effortless charm to win over a girl like you.

Mark is the first to break the contemplative silence. “Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong,” he muses thoughtfully. “I mean yeah, Charles is a lucky bastard, no doubt. But that girl, she seems like a real catch too. Like the kind of person who’d keep you humble and grounded, even when you’re a superstar athlete with the world at your feet.”

The others consider this, nodding slowly. “Fair point,” concedes Tom. “Behind every great man and all that jazz. Leclerc may have his millions but he still needs someone to call him out on his BS from time to time.”

“Exactly,” agrees Mark. “And did you hear the way he spoke to her on the phone? The dude’s completely smitten. He may have all the money and fame, but I bet she’s the real prize in his eyes.”

“Alright, alright, settle down Dr. Phil,” James interjects with a good-natured eye roll. “You gonna start writing romance novels in your spare time now? Maybe they’ll make a movie — The Tifosi Who Loved Me: A Charles Leclerc Story.”

The guys all crack up laughing at that, the tension broken. Their envy towards Leclerc’s charmed life remains, but it’s now tinged with a newfound respect and even a touch of empathy.

“Y’know, jokes aside, I do hope he realizes how lucky he is to have her and treats her right,” Mark says sincerely as their chuckles subside. “A love like that seems rare these days.”

Tom reaches over to clap Mark on the shoulder. “No worries, mate. Did you see the dopey grin on Charles’ face in those paparazzi pics of them together that came out earlier? That man is whipped with a capital W. He knows he’s got a keeper.”

“As he should,” nods James sagely. “Behind every great Ferrari champion is an even greater woman keeping his ego in check. Tale as old as time.”

On that note, the guys clink their pint glasses together, silently saluting the unnamed woman who stole the heart of Charles Leclerc and the envious admiration of Formula 1 fans worldwide. The mystery girlfriend with impeccable style and a heart of gold.

As the pre-race coverage starts up on the bar TV, the guys settle in to cheer on their favorite driver, their fleeting jealousy replaced by the camaraderie and excitement of race day. But in the back of their minds, a single wistful thought remains — what they wouldn’t give to find a love like Charles and his girl seem to share. Guess that’s just one more thing to add to the list of reasons to idolize Charles Leclerc.

***

Among the hordes of viewers obsessively replaying the clip are three best friends gathered for a girls night at a posh Parisian penthouse. Colette, the willowy blonde draped across a velvet chaise lounge, takes a sip of her champagne and shakes her head in wonder.

“God, can you imagine having a boyfriend who just casually drops 10k on you like it’s nothing? Talk about relationship goals,” she sighs dreamily.

Next to her, Nadia snorts derisively while scrolling through Instagram on her phone. “Oh please, like that’s hard to find. I bet loads of rich guys would do that for their girlfriends. It’s not that impressive.”

From her perch on a tufted ottoman, Stephanie raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Really? You think Liam would send you that kind of cash without batting an eye? Mr. I-Need-To-Check-With-My-Financial-Advisor-Before-I-Buy-A-New-Tie?”

Colette erupts into giggles at the scathing impression of Nadia’s banker boyfriend. Even Nadia cracks a reluctant smile before tossing her sleek dark hair.

“Whatever. I’m just saying, that TikTok chick’s boyfriend can’t be THAT special. I’m sure if we did the same challenge our boyfriends would come through too,” she declares with more than a hint of competitiveness in her voice.

“Oooh yes, let’s do it! Let’s recreate the video and see what happens!” Colette squeals, bouncing up and down on the chaise with excitement.

Stephanie, ever the voice of reason, looks uncertain. “I don’t know, guys ... isn’t it a bit tacky to demand money from them like that? What if they get mad?”

Nadia rolls her eyes. “Oh come on Steph, live a little! It’s just a silly experiment. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Okay, okay fine,” Stephanie relents, unable to resist her friends’ cajoling. “But I’m blaming you both if Omer breaks up with me over this!”

“Deal!” Colette grins impishly as she grabs her phone. “I’ll go first — let me call Henry and we’ll see if he’s as generous as Mystery Monaco Man.”

With a deep breath, she dials her property developer boyfriend and launches into her rehearsed plea as soon as he picks up. “Baby!” She whines. “You’ll never believe what happened. I’m out with the girls and my Louboutins broke! Like the heel just totally snapped off. I’m absolutely gutted, these were my faves. Is there any way you could send some money to my account so I can grab a new pair on the way home? Pleeeaaase, I’ll love you forever!”

There’s a heavy pause before Henry’s clipped voice comes through, tinged with annoyance. “Christ, again with the bloody shoes? What is it with you women and wasting my hard earned money on bits of leather you don’t need? Can’t you just take the broken ones to get fixed?”

Colette’s perfectly glossed pout trembles, her blue eyes shining with disappointed tears as Nadia and Stephanie look on in pity. “Never mind,” she mumbles. “Forget I asked. Chat later.” She hangs up and flings her phone down despondently.

“What an ass,” Nadia spits. “You deserve so much better.” Colette shrugs sadly but rallies as she turns to Stephanie expectantly.

“Okay Steph, your turn to give Omer a ring! Let’s hope he restores our faith in rich boyfriends everywhere.”

Stephanie grimaces but dutifully calls her Qatar-based hedge fund manager beau. In her most saccharine voice, she makes her case. “Habibi, you know that gorgeous YSL bag I showed you last week? It finally came back in stock but only for today! Could you maybe pop some cash in my account so I can treat myself? I’ve been working so hard lately and-”

“Wallahi Stephanie, how many handbags does one woman need?” Omer cuts her off irritably. “If I buy you this one, I don’t want to hear any more whining for designer things for at least 6 months, got it? I’ll send you 500 euros, that should more than cover it.”

“Oh. Right. Thanks, I guess ...” Stephanie replies glumly before ending the call. She shakes her head at her friends. “Well, it’s something at least?”

“Hardly,” Nadia scoffs. “These men, I swear. Okay, time for me to show you girls how it’s done. Watch and learn, ladies.”

With a confident smirk, she video calls Liam who answers distractedly, clearly still at the office despite the late hour. “This better be important Nadia, I’m right in the middle of-”

“Liam. Focus,” Nadia cuts him off crisply. “I need you to send €10,000 to my account right now. No questions asked.” She arches a commanding eyebrow, daring him to argue.

Liam just blinks at her for a moment before letting out an incredulous laugh. “I’m sorry, you need me to do what now? 10 grand, are you mad? For what possible reason?”

“To prove you love me,” Nadia retorts smugly. “I saw this thing on TikTok, some girl’s boyfriend sent her-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Liam interrupts. “I’m not one of your little social media playthings to manipulate for views, Nadia. My money is not a toy. I’ll buy you a thoughtful gift for your birthday next month, but I’m not in the business of flinging cash at you for no reason. Now if you’ll excuse me, some of us have real work to do. Goodnight.”

With that he abruptly ends the call, leaving Nadia staring at the blank screen, a red flush of embarrassment and anger creeping up her elegant neck. Stephanie and Colette exchange knowing looks.

“So … that went well,” Stephanie quips sarcastically.

Colette sighs morosely as she flops back onto the chaise, hugging a silk pillow. “Maybe that girl’s boyfriend really is one of a kind. God, I bet she feels like the luckiest woman alive. Can you even imagine being THAT loved and adored?”

Nadia seems to deflate, her bravado evaporating. “No,” she whispers. “I can’t. You’re right, Col. Mystery Monaco Man is clearly in a league of his own. I bet he makes her feel like an absolute queen every damn day.”

Stephanie nods thoughtfully, twirling a lock of hair. “You know what though? Good for her. She seems lovely and down-to-earth in the video. If anyone deserves that fairy tale romance, it’s a girl like that who doesn’t even realize how special it is.”

“Ugh, so true. god I’m depressed now,” Colette groans, reaching for the champagne bottle to refill her glass. “To Mystery Monaco Man — may he set the standard for rich boyfriends everywhere. And to the girl who’s lucky enough to love him — may she live happily ever after and never take a single moment for granted.”

“Hear, hear,” Nadia and Stephanie chorus, clinking their glasses against Colette’s.

As the bubbles fizz on their tongues, the wistful faraway looks in their eyes betray the same thought — what they wouldn’t give to trade places with you for just a day, to know what it feels like to be cherished so completely by a man like Charles. To them, you’re living the ultimate dream.

If only they knew the best part isn’t the extravagant gestures or lavish gifts.

It’s the little moments. The soft kisses pressed to your temple. The fingers intertwined with yours. The sleepy smiles over morning coffee. The shared laughter and inside jokes. The unwavering support and unconditional acceptance. The bone-deep feeling of safety and coming home.

That’s the real fairy tale. And no amount of money could ever buy it.

***

Back in Monaco, Lando Norris slouches comfortably in his gaming chair, eyes glued to the triple monitors in front of him. He’s meant to be reviewing telemetry data in preparation for the upcoming race weekend, but the notification chime from his phone proves far too tempting. Lando picks up the device, fully intending to only glance at it for a second before dutifully returning to his work.

But then he sees it — the TikTok that at least a dozen people have sent to him in the past hour alone. Curiosity piqued, Lando clicks on the video and watches intently, his brows steadily rising towards his hairline with each passing second.

“Wait, is that ...” he mutters to himself as the clip plays out. When your boyfriend’s voice comes through the speakers, Lando’s eyes bug out comically. “Holy shit, it is Charles! And Y/N!”

A knock on the door makes Lando jump slightly. Before he can respond, a familiar mop of tousled chestnut hair pokes into the room. “Hey mate, did you see-” Max Verstappen starts to say.

“The TikTok of Charles simping hard for Y/N? Yup, watching it right now,” Lando finishes for him, eyes still glued to his phone screen in fascination.

Max invites himself into the room fully and flops down on the couch. “Absolutely crazy, right? Who just casually sends their girlfriend 10k for a random pair of shoes?”

Lando snorts. “Certainly not you, you stingy Dutchman,” he ribs playfully. Max chucks a throw pillow at him in retaliation.

“Hey, even I splurge on my girlfriend sometimes!” Max protests. “I just bought her ... erm ...” He racks his brain trying to remember the last lavish gift he purchased unprompted.

“A six-pack of Sugar Free Red Bull last week?” Lando supplies dryly.

“... Shut up.”

The two dissolve into snickers before turning their attention back to the TikTok, which has now looped to the beginning again.

“Charles is so whipped for Y/N,” Max observes, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “He’s just asking to get taken advantage of, throwing money around like that.”

“I think it’s kinda sweet,” Lando admits with a shrug. “He just wants to make her happy. Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same if your girl asked!”

Max scoffs. “What, fall victim to a gold digger? No thanks mate.”

“Y/N’s hardly a gold digger and you know it,” Lando chides. “She works hard for her own money and buys plenty of expensive gifts for Charles too. They just like spoiling each other ‘cause they’re in luuurve.” He draws out the last word in a silly voice, making dramatic kissy faces.

“Yeah, yeah, true love and all that sappy bullshit,” Max says dismissively, though there’s no real heat behind it. “I’m just saying, no way in hell I’m sending 10k on command for a pair of fucking shoes!”

Lando hums thoughtfully. “I would.”

Max’s head whips around to stare at him incredulously. “You what.”

“If it was the right girl? Sure, I’d do it,” Lando says nonchalantly. “Maybe not for something frivolous like shoes, but if my girlfriend called me up and said she needed 10k transferred ASAP? I’d do it, no questions asked. You gotta have that level of trust.”

Clearly torn between wanting to take the piss out of his friend and feeling a reluctant sort of respect, Max just grunts noncommittally in response before turning back to rewatch the clip once more.

Debate rages online among the fans about the cute interaction. Most find the whole thing adorably romantic, cooing over what a doting and generous boyfriend Charles is. They swoon at the obvious love and care between you two, speculating excitedly in the comments about when Charles might pop the question.

Others are more cynical, rolling their eyes at Charles “simping” so hard and accusing you of only dating the Ferrari driver for his money. However, these naysayers are quickly drowned out and ratio’d by your legions of adoring supporters.

Through it all, you and Charles pay the speculation little mind, blissfully wrapped up in your fairytale romance.

Charles returns home that evening to the mouthwatering aroma of his favorite pesto pasta dish wafting from the kitchen. He grins when he spots you at the stove, swaying your hips to the sultry jazz music playing from the speaker as you stir the sauce. Quietly, he comes up behind you and slips his strong arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Mmm, smells amazing,” he murmurs appreciatively.

You turn in his embrace and loop your arms around his neck, smiling radiantly up at him. “Welcome home, Cha-Cha,” you greet him, using the silly pet name that never fails to make him chuckle and scrunch his nose adorably. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“And what’s for dessert?” Charles asks with a playful waggle of his eyebrows.

Biting your lip coyly, you untangle yourself from his arms and saunter off towards the bedroom. “Come find out after we eat. Oh, and I picked up a little something special to express my gratitude for earlier ...” you call over your shoulder with a wink.

Charles’ megawatt grin could power all of Monaco for a year. Viral TikTok or not, the Monegasque knows he’s already the luckiest man in the world to have you as his partner through this crazy ride called life.

No amount of money could ever compare to the joy of being loved by you.

[leewritestoomuch]

just watched a tiktok that essentially went ‘check your tone b4 u talk to my girl/dont talk to my wife like that’ and now i need protective naruto charas w this.. team 7 ?! (and maybe the other konoha 11 (+ sand sibs kinda fit this too but omit and add whoever! no pressure!!))

I love how this is definitely pretty much canon to Sasuke’s character lol

Some are modern AU, some aren’t. It’ll be pretty much obvious, but if it’s not, it doesn’t matter too much.

I only did team 7 (Kakashi, Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke, and Sai) this time since the entire Konoha 13 and sand siblings can take a while and I just did all of them on my last post.(sorry no Yamato, I don’t know how to write for him tbh)

Fem reader

“Watch your Tone before you speak to my girl.”

Naruto Uzumaki

He can’t figure out why this guy is actually flipping his shit over something so small?

All you did was bump into him while you were trying to turn around from the counter in the kitchen. The party was packed, but the kitchen wasn’t quite as bad. You didn’t think you had to watch your every step so carefully.

The guy, clearly drunk off his ass, turns around and tells you to watch yourself. He throws out some basic insults, nothing too deep, but the attempt pisses your blonde, hotheaded boyfriend off.

The guy reaches for you, probably to tap your shoulder, throwing out some “flirty” comment meant to degrade you.

Naruto shoves the dude back, “watch your tone when you talk to her. That’s my girl.”

The dude, with as much respect for Naruto as he had, nods quickly, scampering off.

Naruto pours you another drink, giving you it as he pulls you onto the dance floor.

Sasuke Uchiha

Somebody talking down to his wife?

He knows damn well you can handle yourself, so he’ll stay back, but if you look at him for some help, he’s coming right on over.

He caught wind of the guy telling you off for being weak, saying you’re no help so you have no business ever being a ninja.

He can’t help but wonder what the hell this guys problem is. His wife isn’t weak. You’re one of the top ninja in the village, without a doubt. Maybe he has an issue with women?

“Don’t talk to my wife like that. You’re half the ninja she is.”

Sai

He’s right there and some dipshit has the nerve to talk down on you IN FRONT of him????

It was over something that was common knowledge to a person native to the village your team was visiting, but you simply didn’t know. You’d apologized many times. Wasn’t that enough?

He’s very subtly sassy at first. He’s monotone and flat in tone, but he’s being snarky. You can tell and the dude is catching on.

As Sai gets more pissed off, he gets more obvious.

Because it takes a bit to make him actually feel any which way, this dude is just a dickhead. And Sai isn’t having it

“Watch your tone. Talk to her right. Or we can handle this elsewhere?” Sai is smiling, but it’s a threat.

Sakura Haruno

She’s fuming when she hears somebody talking down to you. How dare somebody shit talk her girlfriend while you’re just trying to shop.

You’d gotten the last of something, since you were there first, but some Karen ass woman wanted it and was telling you why she deserves it more than you.

You’d explained kindly how you got to it first, but looked about ready to give it up and hand it over.

Sakura wasn’t going to let this woman step on your toes

“Watch your tone when you talk to my girl.” Sakura balls her hands into fists beside herself, but doesn’t raise them.

The woman is scared because Sakura is lowkey jacked and now she knows she’ll never be safe again. She gives it up.

Kakashi Hatake

This person didn’t know you were with Kakashi, without a doubt.

You were in a book store, and apparently you’d accidentally bumped into some girl and knocked all the books out of her arms. (She was carrying way too many without a basket for some reason)

You apologized, helping her pick them up, but she wasn’t letting it go.

She kept insulting your thinking skills and asked if you’re going blind. Over all, just things Kakashi knew weren’t true or didn’t matter. It was an accident. (And if you were going/are blind, it’s still, and more so, not your fault so he’s trying to figure out who tf this girl is??)

He waits to see what you do, but he won’t hesitate if he sees you need just a bit of help.

“How unhappy with your life do you have to be to talk like that?” Kakashi asks, closing his book. “You should watch your tone when you talk to my girl.”

[embrosegraves]

𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕪 𝕀𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖

(request) Fernando Alonso x Fem!Reader As much as he loves it, Fernando is a bit confused as to why his wife is refusing to let him go anywhere.

Warnings: none. maybe some spelling errors.

Fernando is, in the words of many, a certified DILF. He’s always had the attention of women his entire career, however lately he has become more and more popular amongst teenage girls. You couldn’t blame them, of course not. If you were a teenager still, you would be the exact same. Even now, his teenage fans considered you, his wife, as “one of them”. You had fun chatting and interacting with his fans on social media because you all agreed on one crucial thing. Fernando Alonso was hot as fuck. 

One afternoon, you had been lounging on your couch and scrolling through tiktok. A lot of Fernando’s fans tended to tag you in edits they’d made of him. Clicking on the most recent tag, a video appeared of a girl who only just looked the legal age. 

“This is a message for F1’s resident MILF, Y/n Alonso.” 

She spent the next few minutes talking about different clothing trends that she thought would look nice on Fernando. One such trend was a formal suit without a shirt or vest. You privately agreed that he would look amazing, but the one that really caught your eye was the trend that went around a few years ago. Of men wearing light grey sweatpants. Of course you knew why the trend was so…big. It made you curious as to whether Fernando also had a pair of grey sweatpants. 

Getting up from the couch, you decided that you would look through the wardrobe and have a look. If he did, you were going to have to try and convince him to wear them for you. For science. You started looking through all of his clothes and were a bit disappointed when you couldn’t find any. Being so deep in your musings, you hadn’t heard Fernando come back inside from his workout in the backyard. 

“Hola, Mi Amor.” 

Fernando laughed at the shriek that left your mouth. Turning around you started scolding him for scaring you, until you realised what clothes he had changed into after he showered. 

The grey sweatpants you had been looking for. 

Fernando had apparently not noticed your brain short circuiting. Your husband wasn’t always the smartest, but at least he was pretty. He continued talking to you, completely unaware of the effect his clothes had on you. 

“I was thinking we should go and get some groceries later. Mama sent me the recipe for this bread I haven’t had since I was a child.” 

“That sounds great, Guapo,” you said, shaking out of your stupor, “but I think I’m too tired to get groceries today. We could go tomorrow if you’d like?” 

“I can always go by myself if you don’t want to, I don’t mind.” Fernando frowned a little. It was almost lunch time, how could you be tired still?  

Frantically you shook your head. Snaking your arms around his waist, you looked up at him through your lashes. 

“No, I want to go with you, tomorrow. When I won’t be as tired.” You gave a demure smile, really trying to discreetly convince him to stay home. You knew that if your reaction to seeing your husband like this — in the comfort of your own home — was this dramatic, the teenage girls on tiktok would go ballistic. You had to prevent that as much as you could. 

Which is why you knew that Fernando would bend to your every wish if you looked up at him and bat your delicate eyelashes. Just as you predicted, his hands gently rubbed the length of your body. 

He smiled at you and nuzzled his ever-growing stubble into the crook of your neck. “Okay. We’ll go tomorrow.”

“Can we lay down for now? At least until I need to make dinner.”

“We can do whatever you want, Corazón.”

Weeks later, Fernando had come home early from a race weekend. He hadn’t seen your car in the driveway so he assumed that you were either still at work (it was monday after all) or you had gone to the shops for something. The thought of being there for you to come home to, as you usually were for him, made him more giddy than he’d’ve liked to admit. 

He had quickly taken a shower, putting on his most comfortable pair of grey sweatpants, and started to prepare a nice snack and drink for you. Just as he put the last thing on the plate for you, he heard your car pull up the drive. Excited to see you after so long apart, he opened the front door and started walking towards your car. 

Still sitting in your car, you had been checking your phone when Fernando knocked on the driver's side window. Seeing him standing next to your car door, your eyes widened. You had immediately clocked onto the fact that he was wearing the sweatpants. Grabbing your things and opening the door, you got out as quickly as you possibly could. 

“Welcome home, Mi Amo—“ 

“Get inside! Quickly!” 

Fernando was confused. More confused than he had been a few weeks ago when you were too tired to go to the store with him. 

“Why the rush?” 

“No questions, just please go back inside the house!” 

Despite knowing that you lived in a relatively private area, your neighbours usually stuck to themselves, you couldn’t help but worry that someone had gotten a picture of Fernando in his grey sweatpants . 

Once you were both inside, Fernando sufficiently confused, you started to relax a little. 

“Is everything okay Amor? Why were you rushing?” 

You hummed. “Hmm? Oh, sorry I thought I’d seen some paparazzi. I was just a little worried.”

Later that same day, you were in your kitchen mixing yourself a cocktail to sip on while watching some TV. You could hear Fernando on his phone scrolling through his tiktok feed. Which would’ve been fine, if you hadn’t heard exactly what tiktok he was watching. 

Fernando didn’t often get videos about clothes on his for you page, but he felt compelled to sit through a video that came up about possible outfits for him to wear. What had really gotten his attention was that the video had been addressed to you. 

“This is a message for F1’s resident MILF, Y/n Alonso.” 

He was intrigued so he continued to watch the video. it wasn’t until the girl started explaining the Grey Sweats Trend that he finally figured out why you didn’t want him going outside. Curiously, he checked the comments to see what people thought about the trends she pointed out, only to see that you had left a comment on the video yourself.

yn.alonso 🔵 I think I'm gonna gatekeep the grey sweats 🤭 fernandoFan14 creator I can't even be mad 🫠

Shutting off his phone he walked into the kitchen to find you humming to yourself. You had been trying to pretend that you hadn’t just heard what he was watching. You tried to continue making your drink as if nothing was suspicious but you had to freeze when Fernando wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his whole body against your back. You didn’t often curse the height difference between the two of you, but with the way he was perfectly aligned with your backside, you couldn’t help it. 

“Is everything alright, Cariño?” You asked, trying your hardest to ignore the way he was pressing and practically rubbing against you. 

“I heard you were gatekeeping me from my fans.” 

“Who said that?” 

He chuckled. “You should know exactly who said it, Amor.” 

He attached his mouth to your neck and started placing slow, open kisses all the way from your shoulder to behind your ear. You knew in an instant that it was going to be a long night ahead.

My mind has been so centred on ABIN that I've basically had writer's block for anything that isn't for that series, so I apologise for how long this request has been sitting in my inbox.

otherwise, I hope you all enjoyed <3

[josnhoes]

Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader.

This part focuses on Damien. The POV switches from Reader to Damien part way through.

May or may not get a part two.

Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader

Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, stalking, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, drugging, mentioned abduction, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older

You never expected being saved by Batman and the Robin brood would ever cause worse trouble then what you were saved from. But life never worked how things are supposed to. You looked at the barred window and tried to remember *how* things got to this.

You liked to think you had a pretty good life, you had your own little apartment in a slightly better part of Gotham; you had a job at a local coffee and book shop. Money could be tight at times, and your savings were slim, but you were taken care of and as safe as you could be in Gotham.

You alternated weekends volunteering at the local animal shelter too. You always liked animals and if Karma was real it was always good to put good energy into the world. Your free time was spent recovering from such a busy week and hanging out with friends. You were painfully normal which oddly enough made you weird in Gotham. Everyone in Gotham had something odd about them or their situation in life. You had yet to meet yours.

The first time you were saved by Batman it had been during a bank robbery. You had gone in to pull out some money; the ATMs outside were still busted from some kids breaking into them for a tiktok...well that's what they claimed most knew it *was* for the cash. As you hold your arms up the loaded robber making everyone go to a wall, you couldn't help but feel like you were being put up for execution. A firing line of hostages and you were in the middle.

You blessedly didn't have to think on that too long and Batman and his current Robin busted in taking down a major chunk of the group. You weren't a hero but when it looked like one of the gun men were about to shoot Robin you moved. Tackling the guy to the groud knocking his gun away. A mistake on your part as Robin was aware and ready to move so he didn't *need* saving, and now the pair's eyes were on you.

Later that week you were surprised by Robin on your balcony. Robin...who you would later Learn was Damien Wayne... had come to 'assess' you. For what you didn't know is he already knew everything about you. His entire family did; Damien just wanted to be the first to speak to you.

The conversation was emotionally charged for sure; Robin scolded you for putting yourself in harm's way. Which was fair since you weren't exactly trained for that kind of thing. But the whiplash from scolding to thanking you and you could swear you saw a blush on his face. Apparently, saying thank you to a civilian was embarrassing for him.

Robin...no Damien proceeded to then lecture you about being up so late, and how important sleep was to grow. Bold words coming from a half pint who probably slept once a week. No way this kid wasn't in school, and he spent most his nights on the streets fighting crime so he assumedly didn't have time to sleep. This ended in him bullying you into going to sleep.

Damien didn't like the idea of having been saved by a civilian. To make matters worse his siblings had use it to tease him. Your actions had gotten all of their attention. Tim had poured himself into finding out more about you using your social media, and anything else he could get into digitally. His predecessor was more then happy to share *everything* he'd found.

You were so....so normal. A sparkling clean civilian. You had some issues, nothing he nor the family couldn't help with. You were exactly the type of person he and his family strived to protect, if he didn't act Gotham would ruin you. He made that opinion known very vocally too. For once his father and siblings listened to reason the first time.

He'd originally come to your window to scope your home out. At 3 in the morning he expected you to be in bed, but you were up. You had no cause to be up so late so he made himself and his lecture about your health known. He'd even managed to scold his way into your home.

Your home was...eclectic. *Clearly* you didn't have the funds for frivolous things, your furniture was old and worn. But there was a lot of personality here. All of it a hint to who you were in private. He would have to investigate further once he got you into bed. A task that had been almost too easy. He stayed until you were asleep and began investigating your home.

You loved animals, something he could bond with you later about. There were some games; video and board, which would help the others both with you. But you had lots of books too. Various types but the most common ones being fantasy or romance; Todd would be ecstatic.

You had some medications, nothing he didn't know of from Tim's digging into you. Several people them had more then they should in them, obviously you were forgetting to take them regularly. Which wouldn't do. He'd have to tell father sooner. But oh wouldn't they all be jealous he got to know you first, see how you live, and even tucked you in!

It would all work out, he would see to it himself if need be. Soon they'd bring his new little sibling home, and all of them could protect and care for them like they deserved.

[livwritesstuff]

inspired by a questionable boy-mom tiktok i was subjected to

Eddie can say with confidence that, if he’d been asked many years ago, he would never have guessed he’d be raising three girls. As phenomena go, he doesn’t know how statistically likely it is (Steve maintains it's 50-50, Eddie isn’t so sure). Thirteen years into parenthood, he’s still fuckin’ thrilled about it. He and Steve are raising a kick-ass trio of ladies, and he’s perfectly pleased with his life and his family, which is great because he’d learned pretty quick that most other people are actually miserable with their own lives and like to project their misery onto everyone else.

He also learned that people have a weird complex about raising boys.

Both Eddie and Steve used to get a lot of comments (mostly from strangers in public) about how they’re raising all girls.

When they’re all out together, it’s usually something like at least it’ll only take one boy to even the playing field for you guys, right?

Alone, Eddie gets quite a bit of sexist crap from people who assume he’s straight and raising the girls with a wife, stuff along the lines of you must’ve been disappointed when the last one came out and what’s one more shot, right and the most frequent grimace with sorry, man.

Steve once had a very odd encounter with a woman who’d apparently told him that he needed to give his wife a boy so she’d know what true love really was. Steve had apparently made a very quiet and very polite scene about it which, in Eddie’s opinion, is entirely understandable because that’s weird as fuck for a plethora of reasons.

Now that girls are older, they themselves report hearing the occasional commentary on the subject when it comes up in their own lives. 

Once, when Eddie had (somewhat stupidly) brought all three girls to the grocery store, he’d rounded the corner to see fifteen-year-old Moe leaning against their shopping cart and regarding an older woman with an expression of politely-veiled disdain (it’s a very Steve expression, actually).

“Three girls,” the woman says incredulously, “God, your poor dad.”

Eddie watches Moe make a face 

“Uh…well, they do like us, y’know,” she replies.

“Right you are, my brilliant girl,” Eddie grins, as he walks up to her, “Right you definitely are.”

[warping-realities]

Beautiful Things

Hey, everyone! This story is part of the Viral Transformation funfarre proposed by the one and only @occamstfs, in celebration of hitting 2K followers! Congrats, bro, you totally deserve it. He’s one of our top authors and never fails to bring the best stories.

Before I dive in, I gotta give you a heads-up that this is a story about corruption, where good people turn into the worst kind of folks. If that’s a sensitive topic for you, I’d recommend not moving forward. Trust me, in the original project, things were way worse, but after chatting with the MAN himself, who helped me with some edits, I softened the tone of the story a bit. If you’re interested in the original version, I can post it later, but this is the final cut.

That said, I hope you all enjoy it and join me in celebrating this awesome author!"

Alois was strolling mindlessly in the morning towards the student exchange center in Seattle, where a bunch of fresh-off-the-boat students from all over the world were gathering for the adaptation phase of their exchange semester. The eighteen-year-old Austrian was loving the experience of taking a gap year before diving back into his studies in Vienna, where he planned to become a doctor. As he walked down the busy street, on what should be the only sunny day of the year, he spotted one of those types he had seen around the city. They were all buff and tall, with wavy, well-groomed hair, and the big ol' mustache that defined them, giving off the vibe of some douchebag brotherhood or whatever. This one in particular was jamming out to music on headphones that looked straight outta the nineties, just like his outfit, which consisted of Levi’s jeans, a white tee, a dark jacket, and combat boots. The whole look cranked the douche factor up to eleven, making Alois's heart race a bit as a shiver of attraction ran through him. When the guy passed by Alois, he shot a look at the smaller red-headed man, dripped with arrogance while a smirk played at the corners of his lips, like he knew some secret that Alois was clueless about. To make things worse, the music blaring from his headphones was so loud that Alois couldn’t help but catch a snippet.

“Please, staaaayyyy…”

That stupid song again. At first, Alois thought it was kinda interesting, despite all the religious preaching in it, which rubbed the young atheist the wrong way. What he didn’t realize was that the singer was all about filming a lot of TikTok videos to promote his work, videos that inevitably flooded the social media feeds of a gay dude with an unfounded attraction to that type of guy. A type that seemed to be multiplying on the streets of Seattle every damn day. Sure, Benson Boone was from Monroe, just a few miles away, but still… Maybe he was looking at things from the wrong angle, maybe it was the singer who was cashing in on the style of the group he and his fellow exchange students had dubbed the Mustache Gang.

The fact is, after several months, the hype around the song should’ve died but apparently that was still far from happening. Trying to leave the discomfort aside Alois headed to the coffee shop that had quickly become his favorite spot during his short stay in the city. As he walked along, head down like most introverts do, he got lost in thought about what kind of work the exchange agency would hook him up with, until his daydreaming was interrupted when those familiar chords hit his ears again.

“I want you, I need you, oh God…”

But this time, someone had slapped a cheerful electronic beat onto the song, which not only butchered it but also made it even more annoying. Looking for the source of that cacophony, he lifted his head and glanced to the side. He could’ve sworn he saw a chubby dude coming his way, but now there was no sign of him, just another one of those big-mustached douchebags strutting around with the swag all of them seemed to have, along with the usual cocky grin. Dressed in a white tank that showed off his defined arms and hairy chest. There was no one else close to Alois on the street at that moment, which was a blessing, since his dick was starting to stir at that sight. But that also freaked him out. Where the hell did that damn music come from? Was he seriously imagining things now?

Distracted and worried about his sanity, he stepped into the coffee shop. At that moment, the place was almost empty; there was just an old dude, well past his prime, fiddling with his phone, looking like he was in a bad mood while he seemed to be listening to something that deeply disgusted him through the giant headphones he was wearing. Apparently, the use of those things was a trend around there.

Passing by the old guy, Alois headed to the counter and ordered his usual coffee with cream and sugar. As he made his way back to the exit, still freaking out about his mental state, disaster struck. Clumsy as ever, he tripped and faceplanted on the floor, coffee spilling everywhere and staining a good chunk of his clothes.

“Alois, du bist dumm…”

He said stunned in embarrassment, as he turned to the side, starting to get up. His view landed on black combat boots that ended in large calves covered in denim, leading up to thighs as thick as they come. But the old man was wearing a suit, no? Clearly not, since the Levi’s pants had been replaced by a black hoodie that concealed a massive chest, which the sleeves were stretched to the limit by powerful biceps. The grand torso gave way to a handsome face framed by wavy brown hair, and right in the center, the ever-present slick mustache that even the guy’s prescription glasses couldn’t diminish the douchebag effect. With his eyes closed and a focused expression, he didn’t even seem to notice what just happened right next to him.

But Alois couldn’t help but wonder, where the hell did that old guy go? While trying to figure out when the old dude left the shop and the Mustache Gang member took his spot at the table, the man seemed to wake up. Smiling and fixing his hair, he finally noticed that a kid was trying to get up from a puddle of coffee right next to him.

“Need a hand, little bro?” he asked, though not with a genuinely empathetic expression; on the contrary, the grin he shot at Alois did little to hide how much he found the situation hilarious.

“No, I’m good, thanks!” Alois replied, finishing getting up and bolting out of the shop as the guy burst into loud laughter behind him. Apparently, this dude wasn’t just rocking the look of a douchebag. Rushing to wipe the coffee off his hoodie, Alois continued his march to his destination. Luckily, no other mortifying events unfolded along the way. Upon entering the classroom, he passed by Charles, a French dude with long blonde hair and delicate features, who was checking something on his iPad while also rocking a pair of those old-school headphones. Not wanting to disturb his classmate, he didn’t say hi and headed further back in the room, where bis friends Arjun and Qian, hailing from India and Taiwan respectively, were hanging out. As he passed Charles, he heard that stylized version of Benson Boone’s song again.

“I found my mind, I'm feelin' sane

It's been a while, but I'm finding my faith…”

Apparently, he wasn’t going crazy after all. He quickly turned towards the source of the music only to find one of those big-mustached douchebags and no music font at all. But he could’ve sworn that… wasn’t there another person there? A kid with long, well-kept blonde hair? Well, his hair was definitely blonde and well-kept, just like the his mustache. Wearing a tank top that showed off his arms and staring at everyone in the room with an air of immense superiority that made Alois feel torn between attraction and disgust.

Resuming his path back to his friends, he discreetly adjusted his boner in his sweatpants while sitting down and trying to forget about that damn song.

“So, who’s the jerk sitting at the front of the class like he owns the place?”

“We’ve been wondering that too, man,” Arjun, the skinny Indian boy with long limbs replied.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” continued Qian, who was more compact, as their teacher, Mr. Sizemore, spoke to the class.

“Guys, today I brought the manager of one of the establishments where you might work. Chuck works at a pub called Shooters; it’s an opportunity we typically offer to our students over twenty one. However, the place has expanded and now also has a Hookah Lounge, the Puff Palace. Although I must say the best option would be for no one here to inhale anything, this is still a decent job opportunity. Without further ado, here’s Mr. Chuck Morris.”

The guy smiled arrogantly before stretching and scratching his neck, causing the lightweight, almost see-through fabric of his tank top to expose his nipples, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. He took his sweet time getting up, like he was in some kind of private show.

But in Alois’s opinion, it would’ve been better if he had stayed seated and shut up, because the first words that came out of his mouth to the class raised a wave of utter dissatisfaction.

“Hey there, guys! Happy to finally leave your miserable countries behind and be in the greatest nation in the world?” The conversation didn’t get any better after that, and Alois was sure that whatever happened, he’d never set foot in that bar called Shooters.

After class, he was chatting animatedly with Arjun as they headed back to their dorm.

“I’d love to know what that illiterate would do if he knew he was talking to future doctors, engineers, journalists… while he’s gonna spend the rest of his life working in a bar serving people like him,” Alois commented.

“Probably nothing would change. People like him always think they’re superior just because of how they look and because they were born here in the States. Doesn’t matter if they live in a trailer and rely on government assistance.”

“True, ahhh, I want a coffee; I spilled mine all over this morning. Do you want one too?” Alois asked as they passed by his favorite coffee shop again.

“No, I’m good. I’ll go ahead; we’ll catch up later,” Arjun replied, continuing on while Alois entered the coffee shop. After carefully getting his to-go coffee to avoid a repeat of that morning’s fiasco, he turned and headed to the exit when he heard the synthetic chords again, accompanied by that familiar lyric.

“Don't take these beautiful things that I've got…”

This time, he saw where the sound was coming from—a Latino guy a bit older than him was listening through those giant headphones. Feeling sure he wasn’t losing it, Alois allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, only to get a major scare. In the blink of an eye, where the guy had been, now sat one of those big-mustached dudes, this one bigger and more muscular than the others, but with the same wavy hair and infamous mustache.

Alois was stunned, staring at the man, who in turn pointed a finger at him as if to assert something and gave him a smile that freaked the young guy out to his core.

Not knowing how to handle that situation, Alois bolted from the shop, trying to make sense of what he had seen. Still in shock, he entered the room he shared with Qian in the dorm, where his friend was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his phone, still dressed in the button-up shirt and khakis he wore to class.

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I... I forgot... How bizarre, I'm sure it was important Qian! Qian? Is everything okay? Qian…? You good?” he asked, realizing his friend hadn’t heard a word he said, just to see his face contort and his eyes roll back as if he were convulsing, and then… puff. Right in front of him stood another member of the Mustache Gang, wavy hair, slick mustache, a chiseled face and a muscular body on display.

“You good??? Qian? Who the hell is Qian? I’m Ken, you foreigner dumbass.” Said the young man of Chinese descent, the irony of using that kind of comment not even crossing his arrogant and brutish mind. “You’re here only because I couldn’t score with an American ass. But a hole’s a hole…”

“I… what…?”

“You just accept a quick hookup on Grindr man, It's not that difficult. Gonna act all shy now? Here in America, that kind of behavior doesn’t fly. Either you do what you came to do or bounce, but then you'll miss out on all this,” the guy replied, flexing his powerful muscles while giving him an arrogant grin. Alois was thinking about where exactly he was and what he was doing there.

“So ginger, what's it gonna be?”

.....

When he got to the dorm for international students  after getting his ass wrecked by the massive schlong of his Grindr hookup, who he discovered was co-manager of Shooters and Puff Palace alongside Chuck —those two even shared an apartment above the pub—he hated himself for getting into that mess just for a quick lay. Yet, at the same time, it was the best fuck he’d ever had. As he stripped down and got ready to shower and wash off the sweat and sex smell from his body, the distinct ping of a Grindr message caught his attention. Opening the app, he found a new message from Ken Lee.

“Hey ginger I think you’re gonna like this.” Ignoring all common sense, thinking it might be a nude, he clicked the link the other guy sent along with the message. Strangely enough, it was a clip from a podcast where a young woman interviewed a flamboyant man, who was wearing a bright and flashy suit, both chatting animatedly. Everything about them screamed obnoxious  starting with their shrill voices that didn’t stop talking for a second. Losing interest and wondering why a guy like Ken would send that to him, Alois let the video play as he headed to the bathroom in the room he occupied alone in the dorm.

“… so, Benson Boone? He’s such a total hottie, girl!”

“Don’t even get me started, Yasmin! I melt for a guy like that! I’d do him in a heartbeat.”

“Me too, Nico! But with that whole Christian boy vibe, I’m not sure he’s got the moves.”

“Girl, it’s just marketing. A guy like that, with that body? And anyone rocking a mustache like that knows exactly what to do with a girl… or a man.”

“Nico you slut, I heard some rumors…”

“I know, girl! I wouldn’t doubt he’s hooked up with more than a few, after all, a man has his needs, and to a guy like him a hole’s a hole like my brother used to say”

“Oh, my brother always said the same thing. What’s going on that there aren’t any more men like him in America?”

“I’ll tell you, I don’t get it either. Everywhere I look, I only see snowflakes and wimps. They say they are our allies, but this talk about toxic masculinity has turned all of them into whiners. Of course I prefer not to be attacked in the street by a bunch of homophobes, but sometimes all we want is someone to fuck us senseless And no one does it like a good douchebag, and don't come to me with that talk that this is a white, cis man's thing, yada yada yada... all due respect to the cause, but we need more men like this hottie, not less. Real American men, who know what they want and make it happen, I don't care what they do with their lives as long as they fuck me right. So I vote for more douchebags, of all races, creeds and sexual orientations, sis!

“True, Nico! I wish I could make that happen…”

“Me too, girl, but how about we listen to his updated song while we wait for the real American men to come back?”

“Sure, girl, this version is way better and more danceable, perfect for a man to sweep me off my feet. Play it!”

Then, the chords that had been haunting Alois all day started playing, and he quickly turned on his way to the bathroom to stop the video—there’s no way he’d want to listen to that on his own.

“Mm. Please stay. I want you, I need you, oh God…”

As he turned towards the source of the sound, he froze, hearing it as a feeling of numbness invaded his head and took over his body, barely letting him take a step back before being flooded with memories and sensations that weren’t his. His childhood in Austria was being replaced by one  in Virginia, time spent studying swapped for sports practice, the memory of a skinny physique giving way to a powerful, muscular body, atheism giving way to worship at church every Sunday, even if he spent most of the time distracted, checking out the girls present. And speaking of girls, nights of sex, just banging them in the ass to keep his virginity intact, and when a girl refused, there was always a twink willing to step in. After all hole’s a hole. Then there was the end of school five years ago and the move to Seattle, working as a personal trainer during the day and a bartender at Shooters at night, the apartment shared with Chuck and Ken, and all the possible and imaginable orgies they had . He knew that, as a good Christian, he’d eventually have to give it all up, settle down, and start a family, but until then, the single life was too good to pass up, and he was gonna enjoy it. And even after he gets married if the desire arises, well a man has his needs and one thing he has learned is that no one is a better bottom than a slut boy desperate for a fuck.

“No… no… what the hell…. This can’t be real…” Alois grumbled as he tried to move towards the phone that he now knew had to be the source of this whole bizarre situation. However, with every step he took, his muscles expanded. His skinny chest exploded into slabs of meat that are now pecs, below his abs form into six brick-like blocks, and his arms and legs thicken to a considerable size. His hair grew longer in well-kept waves, and that infamous mustache sprouted and grew on a more masculine and angular face. At the same time, the room he was in transformed, and he found himself on the other side of the city, in the place he had just left a little over 40 minutes ago.

When he got to the phone, Allen adjusted it, fixing the camera angle. That video was gonna be perfect for his TikTok, especially with that new version of Benson Boone’s song, one he’d used in a bunch of other videos, but this remix version was fire.

Fixing his hair and flexing his powerful muscles, he smiled at the camera.

“Yo, what’s up, fam? Today’s heavy lifting day and a wild night at Shooters. If anyone’s interested in what I’m packing here, just swing by or hit up the link to my OnlyFans in the bio. Only for the grown folks, are you really gonna miss out on this?” he wrapped up, crossing his arms in front of his body and flashing one of those grins at the camera.

“Damn, that looks so good!” he said, posting the video on TikTok and heading towards the living room of the apartment he shared with Chuck and Ken, not even bothering to shower. He had a new client coming to the gym in the next hour, so why waste time on more than one shower? “Tonight’s gonna be lit for sure, guys,” he said, talking to his roommates.

“Are you talking about the Indian skinny boy who’s training with you?”

“Ugh, definitely not. Dudes like him are for when there are no other options. But it wouldn’t be a Friday night if Big Al didn’t get some real action.!” He said grabbing his cock and balls over his shorts, laughing. "I can't wait to get some ass." He concludes while shaking his huge cock out of his shorts and making everyone burst out laughing.

“We’re all gonna get some, man. Chuck’s been spreading the word in an exchange class; soon, it’ll be packed with foreign slutty chicks and twinks looking for an American dick, and we can bang them all we want, Red.” Said Ken with a mischievous grin.

"And God bless that! "Chuck added beside him with an identical smile, which was also mirrored on Allen's face.

...

Allen was sitting on a bench in front of the gym, waiting for his new student, a scrawny Indian dude from the exchange program named Arjun.

“You coming, bro?”

“Sorry, I’m on my way. Got held up.”

“So, meet me in the gym locker room so we don’t waste time. In the meantime, check this out,” Allen said, sending the link to Yas and Nico podcast, she was a hot babe even if she seems as dumb as a rock. Not that he cared much about that at all; she was hot, and that was good enough for him, and that Nico had a very fuckable butt. He didn’t even stop to think about why he was sending that video; it just felt like something he should do.

.....

While he was chilling on a bench in the gym locker room, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, he didn’t notice the transformation happening to his student right behind him. The skinny Arjun was rapidly inflating with muscles and attitude without Allen even realizing it. It was only when he looked up and saw a dude of Indian descent with silky hair and the infamous mustache, wearing nothing but gym shorts, casually scratching his powerful pecs.

“Art, you still haven’t finished getting dressed, you asshole? We gotta workout, take some pics of our pump for OnlyFans and hit the bar shift afterwards.”

“Chill, Al, I’m getting ready. It’s not like your muscles are gonna disappear because of a five minute delay in your workout.”

“Five minutes is already too much,” he replied, flexing his arms and smiling arrogantly. “Tonight, I want the max pump in these Beautiful Things I’ve got.”

[loveiis]

oh you fancy, huh?

chris sturniolo x black!fem!reader

summary: chris pretty much has a thing for seeing you all dolled up for a just a day of spoiling you. he loves spending his money on you all the time and seeing your reaction when he randomly takes you out to get your nails done and go shopping.

warnings: suggestive jokes, cursing, fluffy, NOT PROOFREAD

(A/N: i am somewhat proud of this but also not at the same time. i literally wrote this because apparently it was an idea i recently had. idk.)

“come on ma, you’ve been in that bathroom for an hour already.” chris called from the other side. “sorry bae, im coming i promise. one more thing.” you responded, dragging your lip gloss across your lips.

you forced the applicator back into the container, and walked out the bathroom to see your boyfriend scrolling on his phone. he looked up at you, looking at how beautiful you looked dolled up like this.

“damn, i didn’t know you were doing all that.” placing his phone in his pocket, he kissed up and down your neck softly. “chriiis, let’s go i’m ready.” you cupped your hands around his neck as he kissed up your jawline and finally placed a kiss on your lips.

“mm, i like that cherry.” licking his lips and tasting the bit of lipgloss on his lips now. “ew, chris. dont eat the lipgloss.” you swiped it from his mouth with your thumb. “i’ll eat you if you don’t stop touching my lips like that.” he looked down at you with low eyes.

you removed your thumb from his mouth and instead held his hand. “lets go, please. you’ve been waiting and i feel bad.” you say softly. “its okay, ma. it was worth the wait to see you look like a full course meal.” he smirked.

“chris.” you glared at him. “okay, sorry. let’s go.” he started walking, keeping his hand intertwined with yours.

he opened the car door for you, giving him a small “thank you” before settling in. he got into the drivers seat and started the car.

“we should go get your nails done before we go shopping.” he stares at you. “how’d you know i needed to get them done again?” you quirked an eyebrow.

“cause’ i got you a tech without your permission. you haven’t been able to tell by the amount of times i’ve taken you to get them done again?” he replies.

“no, actually i didn’t notice. that’s so sweet of you, baby you know you don’t have to do all this.” you hold his hand as a thank you.

“actually i do, spoiling you is my middle name.” he kissed the top of your hand. yeah, you’re marrying this guy.

he pulled out of the driveway, starting his destination to the place you usually get your nails done at.

——

“hey girl good to see you again!” the nail tech, rachael, greeted you. “heyy!” you gave her a nice hug. “so what we getting today?” she asked. you didn’t really plan this out, since it was kind of a last minute decision made by your boyfriend.

“ummmm….” you slowly turn to look at your boyfriend, who’s again, scrolling on tiktok. “ma, you know you can get whatever you want. i’m not going anywhere.” he deadpanned.

you rolled your eyes as you thought about what you should get. “uh, lets just do regular coffin french tips.” you turned to smile at her. “feet too? or no?” she asked. “no, not today.” you shook your head. “okay, lets get started.” she walked towards a manicure table and sat in the chair, as you followed behind and sat on the other side.

your boyfriend sat in the chair next to you, at the other manicure table. she started to get to work on your nails, as your boyfriend sat patiently next to you, occasionally checking on the process to make sure they look nice.

——

“baby, they’re done.” you wiggle your fingers in front of him, showing off your new set. he immediately looked up from his phone, smiling. you smile, doing a little shoulder dance, happy with your new nails.

chris loved to see you like this, happy with new things he bought you, looking like the happiest girl in the world.

you both stood up from your chairs, moving to the front desk to pay. “you look so pretty, baby.” chris stood behind you, his hands on your hips and kissing your neck.

rachael smiled and mouthed the words “yall are so cute”. you smiled at her comment. “how much?” you asked. “twenty dollars.” she leaned over the counter. “twenty? thats different from the last time i got these.” you questioned.

“yeah, twenty dollars because i love you guys. we’re like family now.” she shrugged. you chuckled, reaching into your purse to grab a twenty dollar bill, until a hand slapped your wrist.

“ow! what the fuck chris?!” you twisted your head a bit to look at him, who was still kissing your neck. using his left arm to hug your waist, he used his right to pull out his black card and hand it to you. “its just twenty dollars, jesus you don’t need to flex. its only rachael.” you rolled your eyes, handing rachael the card.

she scanned the card, and handed it back to you. “have a great day guys!” she waved at both of you. chris stopped kissing your neck and waved as you did too. you both walked out of the place, chris’ arm wrapped around your waist. “thank you baby.” you kissed his cheek as a reward.

“you say thank you in that tone again and i swear to god im gonna fuck the shit out of you.” he says, pressing the button to unlock the car. “whats going on with you today?” you get in the car as he holds the door for you.

he gets in the car, starting it up. “nothing, you’re irresistible, you know that.” he pulled out the parking lot, his right hand on your thigh.

——

you arrived at the mall, chris holding your hand as you both walked in together. chris had felt pretty scared since you were looking a little too good today and you were out in public.

“lets go to windsor.” you suggested. “wherever you want, just take me there. don’t even ask.” he once again kissed your hand, but kept holding it as you led him to windsor.

you looked around at the dresses, grabbing a formal one, and a sundress. he wasn’t really paying attention to what you were grabbing, so you went into the fitting rooms with him.

he waited outside while you tried on the formal dress, it was a sparkly blue skin tight dress.

“okay, im done.” you came out the tiny fitting room, stopping in front of your boyfriend who was sitting down on the complementary bench. he looked up at you. “what’s this dress for?” he caressed your sides with his hands.

“maybe for like parties or something, when i wanna go out with my girlfriends.” you looked at him, knowing he was going to say something stupid.

“oh you fancy, huh?” he smiled at you. “boy what do you know about fancy?” you chuckled.

“i listen to that song, what do you mean?” he continued rubbing your sides. “mhm, sure baby.” you laughed. “don’t doubt me, ma.” he said. you shook your head, and went back to the room to try on the next dress.

you came out again, this time with the sundress on. you gave him a little twirl and asked him what he thought about it.

he didnt say anything, but he stood up and got closer to you. he placed his hands on your hips and smiled. “you look so fucking beautiful. in everything. even in what you were wearing today.” he started to kiss your neck, again, for like the third time today.

“does this mean i can get both dresses?” you removed his face from the crook of your neck and looked into his eyes. “yes, baby. get whatever you want. just grab it.” he looked back at you.

he seemed entranced by you. like you put him under a spell today, he has never said no to his sweet girl, and he never will.

you kiss him softly on the lips and go back to the fitting room to change back.

you grab both of the dresses and head to the register, chris immediately giving you his black card again.

you started to hit more stores, never forgetting to say thank you to your lovely boyfriend everytime he got you something. even though there were clothes he didn’t like, but you did, he couldn’t say no. you were his weakness, and the way you looked today just made him even weaker.

chris carrying about four clothing bags and you carrying three sephora bags headed back to the car. putting the bags in the backseat you sat in the front as he got in the drivers seat.

“i love you so much chris. thank you for today, you know you didn’t have to.” you smiled at him. god he was gonna lose it if you smiled at him like that again.

“i do have to, i’m never going to not spoil you. i love you too, okay?” he lifted your chin with his index and thumb and placed a light kiss on your lips. “still liking that cherry flavor, ma.” he licked his lips, smirking. you rolled your eyes as he plugged in the aux cord.

“oh lord, what’re you about to play now?” you looked at him. “you’ll see.” he grinned at you.

“Go, go 'head (Go, go, go)”

“oh my god, chris.” you smiled, knowing he was playing Fancy by Drake. he started to head bop to the beat, you joined in after a little while.

“this song was made for you baby.” he says, driving out the parking lot. “that’s what you think.” you looked out the window, listening to the song.

“oh you fancy, huh?” chris sang along with the lyrics.

——

when you arrived back home, you both took the bags inside and placed them upstairs as you started to get unready.

chris was now in grey sweatpants and a white shirt, while you removed your makeup and wore one of chris’ shirts and nothing but underwear underneath.

chris laid back in the bed, waiting for you to finish whatever you were doing. you came out, no makeup or anything like that on. “you still look so pretty. how am i so lucky to have such a beautiful girl?” he opened his arms as you climbed into them.

you laid on his chest, his right arm around your waist and your right leg across his. he used his other arm to pull up the covers, and then placed it back on you.

“thank you baby.” you lifted your head a bit to look at chris, then scooted up a bit to cup his cheeks in your palms, and placed a bunch of kisses all over his face. you wanted to show him how thankful you are for a man like him.

“stop kissing me im seriously about to lose it.” he halted your actions. you went back down to your position, chris rubbing your back in up and down motions.

you get more comfortable as your eyelids started to feel heavier, falling asleep in your boyfriends arms.

[octuscle]

A weird change has been going on with all the guys at my office. Many of them are now acting “southern” wearing cowboy boots and hats and belt buckles and even talking in southern accents despite almost none of them being from the south. They also started driving giant trucks and even some of my more liberal co workers are now talking about conservative politics.

Could the chronivac be behind these changes?

You have the feeling that the young employees were the first to be affected. When you went home a few days ago, you heard a "Goodbye, Mister! Havuh nice eevnun!!" from Frederick's desk. Frederick is an intern. A promising Harvard student from the best family in Providence. You're actually on a first-name basis in the office. But you don't actually wear a cowboy hat either…

The next person to be hit is Peter from the coffee shop downstairs in the office building. Peter is actually a talented barista and, like all people in the catering industry, is actually a disabled actor. You once saw him as Hamlet in an off-Broadway production. He wasn't any worse. "Hello Mr. Goldmann, sir! Uh hot blaak filter coffee as usual?" You look at him in amazement. "Peter? Is that you? I always have a cappuccino. Have you forgotten?" "Kaynt bay, mister! Way don't sayul thet kinduh stuff. An by thuh way, mah name iz Pete."

Fucking hell, Pete is really smoking hot. Okay, the conversation between you is getting more monosyllabic by the day. You'll get used to the black coffee. Not to his Trump praise.

Over the next few days, more and more of these cowboys and rednecks will come your way. There is talk in the news of a hacker attack on TikTok accounts and on Chronivac by the Russians. Allegedly, it is no longer the will of the voters but the voters themselves who are being manipulated. Thank God you don't use TikTok.

A few days later, things get more serious. You come out of the elevator, your eyes engrossed in the New York Times. What is that stench? Your eyes fall on Frank, the young man working at reception. A cloud of sweat and musk wafts around him. His left hand is under the table, moving rhythmically back and forth. "Good morning, Frank!" you say sternly. His hand is suddenly on the table and he clicks away the porn on the screen. "Excuse may, Mr. Goldmann, sir! Ah didn't say yawl coming." You say that your name is Sebastian and that he should get back to work. Apparently he misunderstood. As soon as you turn around, he jerks off again.

And it smells bad in the office. A lot of employees here seem to have an increasing problem with personal hygiene. And spend more time in the gym. And watching cowboy movies. Still mostly young colleagues. But also a few who are your age. It's frightening.

You're sitting at the financial statements. They have to be finished in the next few days. And apart from you, no one in accounting seems to have a clear head anymore. What you're given is full of errors. In terms of content, spelling, grammar… A catastrophe. You hear heavy footsteps behind you. "Goldmann, Smith, Wagner. Into thuh conference room. Now!" You turn around. The two giants look a bit like your CEO and CFO. But they smell like the locker room at a rodeo.

The two of them will forward you the links to a few TikTok videos. You should watch them! Don't have an account yet? Then bloody well get one. You'll get a lecture that our business model isn't patriotic enough. That you're doing too much business with the disgusting gooks and the cowardly French and Krauts. You're supposed to make America great again. America first!

Robert and Richard look at each other and at you, embarrassed. They don't really understand what they should do now. Admittedly, neither do you. You wonder whether the board has gone mad. Robert and Richard, who represent product development and sales, start to discuss whether it is even possible to restructure the supply chains and distribution channels in the short term.

You install TikTok and take a look at the videos sent by the CEO. They are basically advertising messages from the right wing of the Republican party. Repulsive stuff. And you have no idea what this has to do with your company's accounting and controlling.

After reflecting on the situation for a few minutes, you get up and think that you need a drink for the shock. You wonder if they could do with one too? Robert and Richard, who have also just installed TikTok and are watching the videos, look up briefly and shake their heads.

The cognac you received as a gift a few years ago is no longer in your office. You also can't remember whether you gave it to someone as a gift or took it to a company party. Surprisingly, you find beer in the fridge in the coffee kitchen, which is actually against company policy, but no schnapps or anything like that. You go to Frank and ask if you have any whiskey or something similar. Frank spits his chewing tobacco into the wastepaper basket and pulls a silver hip flask out of a drawer. "Home-brewed by mah dad, Mr. Goldmann, sir! Do yawl need uh glass?" You shake your head, take the flask and take a big swig.

Rick and Bob ask if you've brought booze and chewing tobacco. The two of them rant about the government, fantasize about how good everything will be once Trump is back in power and scratch their balls. They're both good guys. A bit hollow in the head. But they have their hearts in the right place, don't think twice and implement orders quickly and efficiently.

You really can't believe the gobbledygook they spout. You sit down, take a pinch of chewing tobacco and push the tin over to them. And after an impressive burp that smells wonderfully of the chili from today's lunch, you take a deep breath.

"Buddies, is way men or weaklings? Thuh bosses want ideas frum us, not whinin'. Wadja thank uh thuh fallerin' plan: naw more deliveries uh goods frum China frum next year an doubled prices fahwar sales tuh Europe!" Bob and Rick both snot their tobacco in the corner, shout "Yeehaw" and fart. Hehehe, they also had the chili. Shit, a good chili fart always makes you horny. You pull down the blinds in the meeting room. And Bob and Rick undo their belt buckles.

[littledata]

I know you’re probably working on those prompts, but I, too, just ended up on North Sea tiktok, and if you have time, I’m curious what Ava’s reaction to that particular algorithmic destination would be. Because like, Bea’s the most capable person ever, but those waves are Very Big, and why isn’t everyone tethered to the boat at all times??

(From the on that dizzy edge universe. An example video if anyone would like context.)

For a long time, Ava's TikTok experience was predictable. It mostly went: hot girl biting her lip, hot girl playing guitar, hot dude baking a cake, weirdly mesmerising crafting video, drama about people she'd never met, hot person kissing another hot person.

The number of straight-up thirst traps has been on the decline recently though - mostly because Ava just has to turn her head and Bea will be changing her shirt or using a hammer or standing perfectly still, all of which is a lot hotter than any video she's ever seen. In its infinite wisdom though, The Algorithm has seen her scrolling past those videos and decided it needs to fill the void with something else.

That thing, apparently, is North Sea TikTok.

They're lying in bed when it happens for the first time. Beatrice had spent the first few weeks after she came home insisting they should try to maintain separate bedrooms, move their relationship along at an orderly and appropriate pace, but she pretty quickly gave in to the allure of spooning and her bedroom defaulted to being both of theirs.

Now, before they go to sleep, they often end up lying side by side while Beatrice reads one of her insane books about lesbian necromancers or whatever and Ava scrolls TikTok or reads fanfiction about hot people falling in love in coffee shops and stuff. It makes her feel mature and settled and safe in a way that's sometimes so exciting she has to take Bea's book out of her hands and make out with her about it.

Anyway, so they're doing that (lying in bed, not making out) when it shows up on her for you page. It starts with the weird, slow sea shanty, then there's the huge waves, and then someone is getting slammed in the face with the fucking ocean.

Ava lets it loop. Then she lets it loop again. Then she taps on the suggested search north sea tiktok and she's presented with a thousand more videos exactly like the first. People falling overboard and huge waves crashing over ships and and and -

"Bea." Ava taps her arm insistently.

Bea looks up from her book without much concern - she doesn't use TikTok but she does submit to being shown Ava's curated favourites. Also, she's wearing glasses and she looks super cute.

No, Ava, don't get distracted.

"Bea," she repeats and holds her phone up to her face.

Beatrice watches with a scrutinising gaze. When the video finishes, she says, "They really shouldn't be filming in those situations, it's distracting them from proper safety precautions."

Ava stares at her. "That's all you have to say? They could have died."

"Possibly," Beatrice agrees. "Once someone falls overboard it's very difficult to recover them, although certainly not impossible. And it depends a lot on the kind of ship. I assume someone wouldn't post a video where someone died though."

Although Beatrice's naivety about what people are willing to post on the internet is adorable, Ava's mind is stuck somewhere in between the words overboard and impossible. Even Beatrice, careful and capable as she is, couldn't keep herself from being swept off her feet by some of those waves. Ava can picture her so vividly, disappearing under the surface.

"You're not making me feel better about this."

"Oh." Beatrice blinks in surprise as if she has only just realised that they aren't having a purely practical discussion. She puts her book carefully down on the nightstand. "I'm not sure what to say. I can't lie to you and pretend it isn't dangerous. Those are cherry-picked clips showing the worst though, it isn't always like that."

Which, yeah, okay, Ava already knew it was dangerous. For all the months that Beatrice is away she lives with the low-level, prickling anxiety that the next call she gets will be telling her Bea is hurt, or worse. It's different seeing it though, seeing how quick it is, how powerful -

"How often are you in the north sea?" she asks, as if that's the only problem with it.

Beatrice winces, "Well, it depends. The contracts I work - " She explains something complicated and lengthy about shipping and demand and the company she works for and Ava thinks she's the most interesting person in the world but this stuff is, also, a little bit boring and she's still pretty busy picturing her girlfriend's imminent death.

She needs to send these videos to Camila. If there's anyone she can rely on to overreact with her, it's Camila.

"Ava," Beatrice says, seeing that she's lost her. She tugs Ava's phone gently from her hands and puts it down next to her book. Then she wraps one arm around Ava's shoulders and the other around her waist and pulls her in close.

Ava has always loved being hugged by Bea, even before they got together - she's strong and solid and lets Ava hold on for as long as she needs to. (Also, she smells fucking amazing, like, all the time).

It wasn't until they started dating that she realised Beatrice had been holding something of herself back though, not letting herself relax entirely whenever they touched. Now, it's as if her whole body sinks into it, like some tension evaporates the moment Ava's arms are around her.

Ava pushes her face into Beatrice's chest and inhales, lets herself hide there in the fabric of her shirt for a moment. It's dark and warm and hard to worry about anything.

"I promise I do everything I possibly can to come home safe to you," Beatrice says into her ear, "I'm sorry I can't give you any more reassurance than that."

"Okay," Ava says, voice muffled against Beatrice's chest. It's not enough but it has to be enough. This is Bea's job, the thing she loves more than anything else, and Ava won't ever touch the sanctity of that. "I'm still going to worry about you."

"I know." Beatrice presses a kiss into her hair and pulls back, "I worry about you too though, when I'm gone."

Ava rolls her eyes, "The most dangerous thing that could happen to me is Lilith finally snapping and turning on everyone she loves."

"So fairly likely then?" Beatrice asks.

Ava snorts, "Like a 90% chance."

They settle themselves to go to sleep, lying down fully and adjusting the pillows and blankets. That's another thing Ava learned recently: Beatrice - her big, tough sailor - likes being the little spoon. She won't admit to that, obviously, but she sighs contentedly whenever Ava wraps her arms around her from behind.

So when Beatrice reaches up to switch the lamp off, Ava does just that, presses herself against Bea's back. She listens to Beatrice's breathing become slow and even, and she clings on.

[paranormalactivity5]

you were right in front of me.

༺♡༻

Bestfriend!Eddie Munson x fem!reader      

Notes: looked it up and apparently there is a member of hellfire named doug so he’s in this, y/n has an aunt. The confession is based of a tiktok i saw. As always constructive criticism and feedback is welcomed!

Summary: Eddie realizes hes in love with his best trend and a freudian slip occurs.

WC: 1.2k

Everyone was sitting at the Hawkins High lunch table in their assigned but, not assigned seats chatting along as usual, but when Eddie sat down he immediately noticed something was wrong. “Wheres y/n?” “oh she's helping her aunt move today, she didn't tell you?” Steve said confused, the two told each other everything. “No….” he replied confused himself, they did tell each other everything; why didn't she tell him? And this was such a small thing, why was it bothering him?

Gareth arrived at the table, sitting down making an upset “oomph” sound when he hit the chair “What up with you?” Robin asked “Bethany totally shot him down when he tried to ask her out.'' Jeff remarked “Yup, I saw it, he barely got past one word, crashed and burned” Doug said making a fake missile fall and explode with his hand for extra salt in the wound. “You love this too much! I mean you're basking in my humiliation!”. Everyone laughed  and then Robin interjected “Hey don't laugh at him, I'm just as bad, I mean Vicky doesn't know I like her and I can barely get a word in.” She continues to pick at the carrots on her plate. Everyone continues ranting about their relationships or, lack thereof when Dustin butts in “you know you've been awfully quiet over there Eddie?”

“What?” he asks confused “surprised he havent started wailing on about y/n.” Gareth says with a chuckle but quickly shuts up when eddie gives him a glare “Seriously what the hell are you guys talking about?” “how you’re so hopelessly in love with her but she dosent seen to notice?” robin states like its obvious, he dosent notice the smirk on her face when she says the last part. the whole table nods “she's so pretty, her style is so cool!” Jeff remarks quoting eddie “she's so smart!” lucas adds, this continues on until eddie relalizes, holy shit are they right? Is he in denial? I mean yeah he’ll admit that what he feels for her is a bit more then friendship but, is he in love?

Youve been helping your aunt move all day and were exhausted but now it was time to get ready for your weekly hangout with eddie and knowing you were going to see him gave you just enough energy to get there, eat some pizza, and watch a movie. As you were getting ready you were overthinking as you always did before you saw him; Should you wear a skirt? Or would that make it to obvious you were trying to impress him? You landed on just some black ripped jean shorts, some spiderweb tights and a metallica shirt with some combat boots. A simple outfit, a little over the top for movie and pizza but, maybe just enough for eddie to finally get the hint

When you arrived at eddies you hugged him like you usually do but he seemed stiff, which was odd because he would always welcome you into a big bear hug, sometimes even picking you up off the ground! He seemed so uncomfortable throughout all of “little shop of horrors” until you finally made the suggestion that you should smoke a joint and order pizza, maybe it would loosen him up and he would say what was so obviously bothering him

He began to rifle through the drawer next to his bed where he kept his own personal stash and pulled out all the things needed and began to grind up a small nug. Most of this happened silently, whatever was bothering him must be really bad, usually he would be talking up a storm.

He was feaking out, the second he saw her smile and felt him hug her he knew he was screwed. Hes definetly in love. As he was preparing the joint he decided he cant keep acting all weird she might catch on. Hopefully a joint can helf him lossen up.

About 10 minutes of smoking later and Eddie and defineitly chilled out some. Just as you were about to ask him what had him so worked up in the first Place the doorbell rang, Eddie got up to get it quite quickly, “That must be the pizza, ill go get it.” guess he was still a little nervous. In Eddie's head he was once again freaking out. Your eyes were heavy, your voice and body relaxed, you looked so pretty…..you always did, but since the realization he loved you it became increasingly hard to not throw himself into you, hopefully you didnt notice.

By the time he had paid the guy, gotten you both a slice and some beer you had picked up and began flipping through it. “You ever think about your wedding?” you asked “sometimes, why?” “there were some wedding dresses in this magazine…..i bet yours would be like, lord of the rings themed or something.” you snarked while chuckling “i meannnn…” he looks at you with a knowing look in his eye. “No you’re right that would be cool as fuck” you admit “expensive as hell tho.” you nod in agreement. “Well who would i be like your best- maid of- best woman..is that a thing?” or i could be the bride, you think to yourself. “Yeah i think thats a thing”

“Shit I mean you could be the bride who knows” he says laughing. Holy shit holy shit does he even realize what he just said? It seems he does when he looks up and you're staring at him “What?”  “you know like.. it's a possibility…like with all the roles you could possibly take its…in the realm. Not like I want you to be the bride” he lets out a small laugh. He's messing with his hands and touching his hair, which he always does when he lies. Hes lying. “You’re lying” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “Huh?” “you’re playing with your hands and your hair while looking down, you always do that when you're lying….You like me?”  “I love yo-” he begins to admit nervously, but before he can get another word out your lips are on his, youre not sure what caused such confidence to come over you, maybe years of pinning. You could tell he wasn't expecting it but he soon melted into the kiss, years of what was thought to be unrequited love being poured in from both sides. 

Once you pulled apart you spent a moment just staring into each other's eyes. You're the first to speak “Why didn't you tell me?” the answer would've made you fall to your knees if you weren't already half straddling him “Baby I can barely hear my own thoughts when I'm with you.” you smile and giggle, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, he does the same. “Robins gunna freak.” you point out with a laugh and his head slightly turns to look at you quizzically. “She's been trying to set us up forever” you state. He thinks back to the conversation from later today…. he's going to have to thank her.

[liar-liarpantsonfire]

Black Butler Characters Playing The Pocky Game

Disclaimer! All of the characters that are cannonly minors are aged up!

My au can be seen in this post!

My grammar is awful, my apologies if there is mistakes!

Summary: The pocky game everyone's heard of it and most people have played it! So why not introduce it to the Black Butler characters?

Modern or Victorian: This is set in the modern day.

Apparently no matter the universe there exists a game involving stick-like biscuits covered in a delicious coating with all sorts of flavours. The pocky game, the game where you each place your lips on the end of the biscuit and slowly inch closer until one of you backs out or eventually your lips meet. No matter the universe, this game seems to follow you. Regardless of the game though, you had to admit that the treat was delicious and you couldn't deny the game was entertaining.

One lovely day while shopping you spotted the treat and bought a few boxes, slipping them into your bag and beginning to head home, pulling out your phone and messaging them to ask if they'd like to have some snacks and mabey play a game?

Once you got back you placed your bag down, sitting on the couch and pulling out your phone. You aimlessly scrolled through tiktok before getting a notification to let you know they were on their way. Perfect.

Sebastian Michaelis

After a few minutes you hear a knock at the door and quickly jump up to awnswer it, a small smile on your face as you did so. You swung the door open and Sebastian looked to you. "Hello!" You beamed, moving to the side to let him in.

"Hello dear." He said softly, looking to you and meeting your eyes with a small smile. "What exactly is this game then and these snacks, pocky?" Straight to the point, as usual. He walked in, shutting the door behind him.

You smiled, reaching into your bag and pulling out one of the boxes, passing it to Sebastian. "Mhm! They're just stick-like biscuits covered in chocolate but they come in all sorts of flavours, try one." You smiled, watching him closely, curious to see his reaction as you sat together. He carefully opened the box, taking one out and placing the rest to the side as he took a bite.

"Its nice, I suppose, you humans do have odd ideas for food." He said firmly causing you to look away, a little embarrassed that you'd forgotten he couldn't quite taste food or at least not the food you were used to. "So this game?" He raised an eyebrow and your head perked up again.

"Right the game!" You took another stick from the box. "Its simple, really, each person puts one end of the stick in their mouth, inching closer with small bites and the first person to back out looses. If neither of you back out eventually your lips will meet. Make sense?" You asked gently, Sebastian nodding. "Perfect."

You placed your lips on one end, Sebastian following. Your eyes met his as you slowly inched towards each other, each taking small bites. You looked away from his eyes, you could feel his hot breath hitting your face.

After a moment, you felt your lips meet, Sebastian's hand on your cheek. He nibbled at your bottom lip, taking the last peice of the snack from you but he didn't pull away, and neither did you. Soft clicking and smacking noises filled the empty room before Sebastian slowly pulled away.

"I think I'd say I won that round." He had a sort of smug expression on his face that made you want to try again.

"Round two?" You suggested with a confident smile but he shook his head, his hand now on your waist.

"I think I have a different idea." He said softly, his lips meeting yours once again.

Ciel Phantomhive

After a few minutes you hear a knock at the door and quickly jump up to awnswer it, a small smile on your face as you did so. You swung the door open and Ciel looked to you. "Hello!" You beamed, moving to the side to let him in.

Ciel gave you a gentle nod to thank you for letting him in before sitting on the couch and looking up to you. You shut the door, pulling a box of pocky from the bag and sitting next to him.

"Pocky?" He looked up to you with an almost judging expression which you simply ignored.

"Mhm, just try it." You said firmly, Ciel's judging expression not leaving him. "You like sweet things, don't you?"

"I have to be in the mood-"

"Just try it." You interrupted causing him to roll his eyes and open the box, pulling one out and taking a bite. He finished it pretty quickly, looking to you. "Did you like it?"

Ciel sighed and nodded. "Yes, it was nice." He said firmly, "Now, you said something about a game? Care to tell me?" The expression on his face no longer judgemental but curious.

"Right, yes." You smiled. "The game is simple, really, we each attach our lips to opposite ends of the treat and take small bites. The first person to back out looses. If neither of you back out eventually your lips will meet and you'll have to. Does that make sense?" Ciel sighed.

"Yes, that does."

"Perfect." You took another stick of pocky out of the box, attaching your lips to one end and Ciel doing the same. You inched closer, not keeping eye contact with him.

After a moment you could feel his gentle breath mixing with yours as he took the last bite, your lips meeting for a moment before you both, slowly, pulled away.

Ciel looked up to you with a blush, clearing his throat. "Uhm. I dont think either of us won that." He looked away. You shook your head, shuffling closer to him, placing your hand on his chin and kissing him softly, again, making eye contact. "No, we didn't..."

Alois Trancy

After a few minutes you hear a knock at the door and quickly jump up to awnswer it, a small smile on your face as you did so. You swung the door open and Alois looked to you with a soft smile "Hello!" You beamed, moving to the side to let him in.

"Hello love!" He chirped, walking in as you shut the door behind him. "Its nice to see you again, it's been a while." You nodded, "Too long." Your tone was gentle, Alois smiling as you spoke.

You sat on the couch with him, your hands brushing against each other. Alois looked to the bag then back up at you. "Soooo what snacks did you get?" The curiosity and joy in his voice was rather sweet in a way.

You grabbed the bag, pulling out a box of pocky passing it to Alois. He examined it before just opening the box and pulling out a stick and taking a bite, his eyes sparkling as he did so. He quickly finished it, making eye contact with you. "These are great! Where'd you get them?" You couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Most grocery stores sell them, if you want to get the best ones there's that little shop in town that sells a bunch of Japanese snacks. The ones they sell in there are really good!" You beamed, Alois giggling softly at your slight ramble. He nodded, thanking you and taking out another stick of pocky and placing it into his mouth.

"There's also a game you can play with them that I wanted to show you!"

"A game?" You'd definitely peaked his curiosity.

You nodded, taking out a stick. "One player puts one end of the stick in their mouth and the other follows. You take small bites and the one who backs out first looses and if neither of you back out your lips will eventually meet." He said firmly.

"So it's a game of chicken?"

"Essentially, yeah!"

"Sounds fun!" Alois chirped. You nodded, placing one end of the stick in your mouth and signaling for the him to do the same which he happily did. You slowly inched towards closer and closer, you lips grazed against each other and before you could pull away Alois took the last bit from your mouth, his hand slipping into your hair. You slowly moved closer but Alois pulled away as you did so.

"Why did yo?-" He put a finger to your lips, pulling out another stick.

"Round two? I believe I won the first one." Alois said with a sort of cocky smirk. You nodded, placing your lips on one end of the stick and him following.

Grell Sutcliff

After a few minutes you hear a knock at the door and quickly jump up to awnswer it, a small smile on your face as you did so. You swung the door open and Grell looked to you. "Hello!" You beamed, moving to the side to let her in.

"Hello, darling!" She walked in, shutting the door behind her, hugging you gently. She was in that red coat she always wore, her body heat mixed with yours in the embrace. After a moment, she let go, sitting on the couch with you.

You both made polite conversation for a while before you pulled a box of pocky out of your bag. Grell looked to the box in your hands; smiling, you passed it to her. "Pocky?" She looked up at you with a curious expression or was it confused? Mabey a little bit of both! You nodded, signaling for her to open the box. She did so, taking one out and starting to eat it. Grell looked to you with a smile as she finished it, "Those are really nice." She said gently, box still in hand.

You took one out and nodded. "They are." You said softly. "What's great about them is the game you can play, care to try?" Grell nodded and you smiled to yourself. "The rules are simple, each person places one end of the stick into their mouth and they get closer as they take small bites, first one to back out looses!"

"And if neither of you back out?"

"The person with the bigger peice at the end wins either way but if neither of you back out it'll end with your lips meeting. Does that make sense?" She nodded and you smiled. "Perfect!"

You attached your lips to one end of the stick, Grell doing the same. You both got closer and closer slowly, you could feel her breath against your lips and smell her red lipstick. After a moment, you lips met and Grell gently gripped your shirt, the other hand on your waist, as she pulled you closer. Soft smacking and clicking sounds filled the room, Grell not letting go for a little while.

Eventually, the two of you pulled away and you had a light blush grazing your cheeks, as did she. Red lipstick marked you lips, the taste of the pocky still in your mouth. Grell placed the box to the side, "Screw the game." She said softly, pulling you into another kiss, this one more passionate.

William T Spears

After a few minutes you hear a knock at the door and quickly jump up to awnswer it, a small smile on your face as you did so. You swung the door open and William looked to you. "Hello!" You beamed, moving to the side to let him in.

Will walked in, shutting the door behind him with a sigh. "Hello, dear." He said firmly, it wasn't he didn't want to be there, he'd just finished working overtime curtsey of Grell. You sat him down, sitting across from him.

"How was overtime?" You asked, desperately trying not to giggle, he certainly wasn't amused by the teasing.

"Fine, thank you."

You sighed softly, pulling out a box of pocky and passing it to him. "Try one." Will sighed, opening the box and pulling a stick of pocky out, eating it and looking to you.

"Its not bad. Is this all you asked me to come over for?" He gave you a look but you knew he was being genuine.

"Mmm kind of! I also wanted to show you a game involving them!" You shuffled closer to him.

"Go on?"

"Ok! So!" You took out another stick. "Its simple, really, each person puts one end of the stick in their mouth, inching closer with small bites and the first person to back out looses. If neither of you back out eventually your lips will meet." You had an almost confident smile as you explained.

"Sounds like a waste of time." He sighed. "But if it'll make you happy." You nodded. "Alright then..."

You placed your lips on one end on the stick and Will followed, you both got closer slowly, bite after bite. As Will went to pull away, you took the last piece, your lips meeting. After a moment, he leant into it, his hand on your arm before slowly pulling away again. He cleared his throat and you pulled out another stick.

"Round two?"

That's it for now! I may end up making another one if anyone has any other characters they'd like to see! If you do please let me know! <3

[smizzy]

Jenna dating hcs

YOU BURNT MY HOUSE TO THE GROUND MY FAMILY'S DEAD WHAT DO I DO

She'd very much like to take you with her to set everyday

She misses you more often she stays sending photos and texts of what she's doin, what she's eating, who she's with

you too

She's made many playlists for you two for different occasions

she believes you are the funniest person and people should know that

even her cast mates love seeing you knowing you always have them laughing over anything

She'd try and cook your favorite dish and 1-up you because you made hers a 5-star Michelin dish

pictures pictures picturessss

shares her earphones with you because she likes you too much

younger and taller than her? you came to the right place

the height difference is so cute

dancing around the house at 2 AM

would 100% learn how to braid your hair if you got sum thick thick ifykyk

you are the finest mf she ever laid her eyes on

i know dasss rightttt

now that im high lets get to the real stuff

definitely has a little part of her room that belongs to you and your stuff

she's learned about the .5 photos from you

she won't stop doing them on you and her sister

disagreements only cus you take things to heart a lil too much

me fr

"dont talk to me" almost every time she (someone) hurts your (my) feelings

she likes that about us twinnn

tiktok drafts pile like bodies

going to the beach til nighttime w those bonfires

back to disagreements *more like hurt feelings*

serious ones don't happen often

and when they do, u puttin air pods in and listening loud

either way you're always in the right

surprisingly deep conversations you start bc of high rambling

cue the end loop of 'not allowed' by tv girl

when you text her she always responds faster than you can even swipe out of the conversation

unless filming

you send her photos of what you eat in a day

likes hugging u very much thanku

also eye contact

anywhere you wanna go she'd book a flight for you

hate to c u cry baby :(

rubbing your back, kissin your cheek, getting you what you wanna eat purr

school or if ur busy she'd she see on the weekends

and i mean every weekend

with new food to try with her

thinks of you as her whole heart, soul, mind, veins,and blood

definitely a deeper connection this aint no tomfoolery

never fails to blush at flowers you get her no matter what they are she's thankful and loves them no less

always up after 12 sending her tiktoks but its the comments that got you covering your mouth from laughing

"why are u up stop sending me tiktoks gts"

showing each other how the sky looks for both of you if you two are away from one another

she hates shopping apparently

cus when she with you its like ts flew out the window

any photo on good with you two on google has both of you two staring at each other with love

[kale-theteaqueen]

The Humble Art of Gift Giving

SO Thrilled to participate in my first ACOTAR Secret Santa with @acotargiftexchange! I absolutely loved writing this piece for @danikamariewrites. Everyone check out her work if you haven't already, it's amazing! I hope you enjoy this piece of Nessian Christmas Fluff! Merry Christmas, TTQ <3

Summary: Nesta loves giving gifts. Takes pride in it, actually. Especially at Christmas. She's had her list of potential options for her family ready for months now, and all that she needs to do now is actually buy them. And therein lies the problem. What if they aren't good enough? What if they're cheesy or off the mark? Nesta's gifts are always perfect, and this year will be no exception. Cassian knows this, and loves her for it. But her biggest challenge this year isn't shopping for family. It's getting a gift for him. Especially when she makes it her personal mission to top the previous year's presence. Luckily, all it takes is a quick trip to the local Christmas Market to give her the inspiration she needs.

Read Below or on A03!

Feyre.

Elain.

Cassian.

Gwyn.

Emerie.

Azriel.

Rhysand.

Lucien.

Amren

Morrigan??

Nesta scowled at the Excel sheet in front of her, at the blank squares that needed filling. It was December 16th, and there were still too many open-ended questions. Feyre was getting new paints, ones she specifically asked for, and were linked accordingly in her designated row, highlighted in a soft green to indicate she’d purchased them. Elain was receiving a set of earrings and a necklace made of pressed flowers, also highlighted in green.

And Cassian, well…

There were many, many links in his row. Options upon options. But nothing felt good enough.

Nothing felt good enough for Gwyn either, nor Emerie or Azriel. Links to Etsy shops, indie bookstores, and, regrettably, even Amazon filled the sheet, but they were all white, the category marked ‘Purchased?” painfully blank. And she hadn’t even begun to consider what she should purchase her extended family of sorts.

They always did this holiday together, making a big bash out of it, and every year since Feyre and Rhysand got married, and especially since she and Cassian had gotten engaged, she was presented with the same dilemma.

What did she get them? Would they even bother to get her anything?

Apparently, they were, or at least that’s what Feyre had claimed, when she asked. Her sister jumped on any chance to have a big happy family, and though it took significant effort and trial and error, she more or less had it. Nesta just didn’t know quite where she fit in.

“Sweetheart, your food is going to get cold.”

Nesta raised her eyes from her laptop, frowning at her fiancé, who was smiling knowingly at her from the other end of the couch, a bowl of pasta in his hand. She should have been working on the next book in her series, the manuscript open in a separate tab. Her last book may have only been out for about a week, but even still, deadlines were deadlines. If only Nesta had actually written anything in the past two hours.

“I gave you twenty more minutes, as promised.”

With a sigh, Nesta sat up straight, closing her laptop and evaluating his latest creation in front of her. Pesto, with fresh pine nuts and fusilli pasta. Gods, she didn’t deserve him when he made dishes like this. Especially when he had to pry her away from her writing. Or at least, what was supposed to be writing.

“How’s the Christmas list coming?”

Ah, he knew her too well.

“I just don’t know what to do,” She said, taking her first bite and practically melting at the taste in her mouth.

Cassian hummed knowingly, more than aware of how meticulously she planned Christmas presents. She collected links for months, bookmarking random Instagram ads or TikTok promos. But when it came to actually purchasing them, to deciding on what was good enough, she often lamented for weeks.

“We’re going to the market tomorrow, right?” He asked. “I’m sure we’ll turn a few more of those lines green.”

“I suppose,” Nesta said quietly, lifting a hand to push her glasses farther up her nose. A new development, one she still wasn’t quite happy about. But spending time reading in the dark had its consequences, apparently.

“We won’t leave until we’ve got at least the rest of the family knocked off.”

“Maybe it’s stupid, and I should just get them all gift cards or something.”

“You hate giving people gift cards, Nes.”

Nesta sighed, leaning back against the cushions. “But if they don’t even like me, then why would they want a gift from me?”

Cassian stretched out his leg so his foot could nudge her calf affectionately. “They like you, sweetheart. All that tension has been resolved, yeah? Mor was just telling me that she was excited to see you and hear about your latest book.”

Nesta frowned, stirring her fork around her bowl of pasta. It was true, the animosity that defined a lot of her relationship with Feyre’s found family was largely gone after months of working out past traumas or grief. Now, a year and a half later, Nesta was three books into a successful series, and happily engaged to the man beside her, who continued to look at her with nothing short of affection in his eyes, despite her anxiety.

“You’re right,” She replied. “I just…”

“Want it to be good enough?” Cassian supplied, scooting closer.

She nodded as his arm slid around her shoulders, pulling her comfortably against his chest.

“Your gifts are always so thoughtful, you know,” He replied. “Mor wears that charm bracelet you got her, with all of our initials, almost every day. I think the only competition you have is yourself, baby.”

 Nesta huffed out a soft laugh, nestling into his shoulder. “I just want everything to be right.”

Cassian tipped her head up, kissing her softly. “I know. Tomorrow, Nes. We’ll get it all wrapped up, tomorrow.”

---

The Christmas Market was crowded, families and individuals alike scouring the stalls for the perfect, unique gift for their loved ones. Nesta watched them from her spot near the entrance, a cup of hot chocolate in one hand and a map in the other. In her pocket, her phone sat ready with her meticulous list of gift recipients.

“Alright,” Cassian said, looking over the page listing all the vendors. “Should we start from the right and snake our way through?”

Nesta nodded, her eyes scanning intently over the seemingly endless number of shops. There were at least twenty candlemakers, local artists, even a bonsai tree shop. The wheels in her head began turning, and she began making mental notes of who would be most interested in which items.

But before she could delve too deeply into her analysis, Cassian slid his arm around her waist, squeezing just enough that she looked up at him.

“Try not to look so serious, sweetheart. We’re supposed to be merry.”

Nesta huffed, but took a step forward towards the shops, holding out a hand for him to take. “I am perfectly merry.”

Cassian laughed, a bright and melodic sound that often was the only thing to pull her out of dreary moods. “Of course. The most festive woman I know.”

Rolling her eyes, she couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her lips. Pulling him forward, she entered the first aisle, taking in the first few shops. On careful steps, she approached a woodworking tent, eyeing the various cutting boards, cheese platters, and handcrafted pens. They were all beautiful, but nothing caught her interest or fulfilled the basic requirement of what she considered to be a perfectly tailored gift.

That is, until her eyes caught on the end of the table, at the line of puzzle boxes. She smiled, running her fingers over a medium sized one, assessing the various cogs and gears within.

Amren did mention needing something new to fidget with.

Pulling out her phone, Nesta filled in the tiny woman’s row, and flagged down the shop owner.

With one gift down, her confidence boosted, and she strode down the path towards the next few stalls with a small smile, eyes scanning over the various handmade jewelry, knitwear, and blown glass. Cassian wasn’t too far behind, though his attention was typically scattered in these kinds of environments. More often than not, she’d turn and find him gone entirely, entranced by a tent in a different aisle.

He grinned at her when she caught his eye, holding up a knitted flower hat, small and definitely intended for a pet. Immediately, her mind drifted to Azriel’s beloved twin black cats. And, more acutely, how horrified they’d be at the prospect of being dressed. Rolling her eyes, she smiled amusedly at him and shook her head before continuing on her way, knowing full well her fiancé would try and convince his brother to put them on anyway.

As she looked through each row, the time seemed to fly by, with her list slowly but surely getting smaller and smaller. As she reached the center of the market, she finally looked down at her phone to take stock of what she’d thus far acquired:

A set of blown glass flowerpots for Elain.

A cocktail smoker set for Azriel, paired with a bottle of locally distilled whiskey.

An old map of the city for Rhysand.

A set of handmade wooden ballpoint pens for Lucien.

Which left Gwyn, Emerie, Morrigan, and, of course, Cassian.

She hadn’t found anything remotely good enough for him. Everything was either something she’d already done, or found too tacky, or cliché. It had to be personal, thoughtful. Something no one else would think of.

The closer she got to reaching the end of the market, the more anxious she became about the prospect.

Luckily, all it took was a brilliant antique book stand to occupy her thoughts.

It was by far her favorite tent so far, with shelves lined with antique copies of some of her favorites, of bags made from the bindings of repurposed books, prints and posters, and everything a bookworm could dream of. Smiling at the shop owner as she entered, Nesta made her way to the collection of old novels, perusing the selections.

There was nothing particularly rare or beautiful, but as Nesta scanned her eyes over the titles, there were at least several options to satisfy Gwyn, who loved collecting old and special edition copies of her favorites. But, to her surprise, it wasn’t her lovely friend she had in mind when she found the final book in the row, larger than the others. Taking care to pull it free gently, she observed the title.

Landscape Painting Through the Ages: A Definitive Guide

Flipping through, she smiled at the depictions of various flora and fauna, of the various instructions on perspective and shading. It was old, perhaps 40 or 50 years, but it was perfect for her youngest sister, who was always looking for new references to paint from.

Even better, as she turned around to approach the counter, she spotted a gorgeous Pride and Prejudice handbag made of a re-purposed binding. Gwyn would be head over heels. The shopkeeper smiled broadly at her as she approached, and said, with a thick accent,

“That one’s been sitting on the shelf for ages. I’m glad she’s found a home.”

Nesta smiled at the kind man.

“It will be well loved.”

Arms full, she stepped back out into the path, scanning for Cassian who was, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be found. She’d thought he’d have been easier to spot, with his height. But it seemed everyone had their own tall significant other to drag around.

Retracing her steps, she scanned through the rows, tent after tent. Rounding the corner, she contemplated texting him, telling him to meet her at the entrance to save her the anxiety, but then she caught sight of his curls, the red scarf around his neck, and her tension eased.

He stood at what was unmistakably a jewelry stand, and Nesta quirked a brow as she approached. The old woman behind the counter spoke animatedly to him, and in his hands was a tiny box, wrapped simply with a satin bow. Her interest piqued, she tried to assess what it was, listening for any clues. But just as she approached his side, he spun on his heel, grinning down at her, the box disappearing into his pocket.

“There she is,” He said. “How are we doing, sweetheart?”

Nesta looked up at him quizzically, and the amusement in his eyes told her he already knew what she wanted to know. But he didn’t budge, even after several seconds of staring him down. So, she relented,

“Fairly well. Just Emerie and Morrigan left.”

And him, of course, but that was for her knowledge only.

“See, I told you this market would be a good one.”

“What about you?” Nesta asked, shifting her arms as he reached to take some of her bags from her.

“A master of gift giving never tells his secrets, Nes.”

Nesta scoffed, even as she looped her arm through his and they meandered down to the remaining tents.

“How many of those ridiculous cat hats did you buy?”

“They had powdered wigs. Do you know how amazing Shadow and Smokey will look in those?”

Nesta shook her head, unable to hide her grin. “Azriel will kill you.”

Cassian shrugged, unbothered by the prospect. “I just want one picture of my nephews. Then they can rip them up for all I care.”

“I still don’t know what to get Morrigan. I have no idea what she likes other than wine.”

Cassian tilted his head in contemplation. “There’s that distillery that makes social justice themed alcohol, their booth is back towards the front. That would be right up her alley.”

Nesta’s brows rose, the idea scratching her itch for something unique yet appropriate for the still superficial friendship they had.

“That’s perfect,” She said quietly, pulling out her phone, anxious to fill in her spreadsheet. “Let me just-”

“Take your time, baby. We’ve got plenty of it.”

Nesta stared down at the screen, satisfied by the solid block green rows. Just two left now, which seemed so much more manageable than this morning when they started. A weight lifted off her shoulders, and she let out a long, satisfied breath.

“Just Emerie then.”

Cassian hummed in acknowledgement, offering his arm to her again.

They made it to the front of the market, and Nesta turned to assess the stands again, deciding on where to look again for her friend. Slowly, she wandered to one of the first jewelry booths, assessing the various bracelets. It was intricate metalwork on gorgeous cuffs. Cuffs that would make incredible friendship bracelets.

“Your ring is gorgeous.”

Nesta lifted her eyes, meeting the soft brown ones of the girl behind the counter. Looking back down at her hand, she assessed her engagement ring, the ruby set among tiny white diamonds. Cassian was by no means a poor man, but still, she’d protested that she didn’t need something so exquisite. He disagreed.

“Thank you,” she replied. “My fiancé has good taste, or so I think.”

“Excellent taste,” the girl replied. “The gold band will match those cuffs nicely.”

A smile tugged on her lips as she ran her fingers over the metal. “I think you’re right,” she said. “I’ll take three.”

The girl grinned at her, moving away to wrap them. All the while, Nesta continued to try and come up with various ideas for Cassian. But still, nothing seemed like enough. He had an engraved watch, one she’d gotten him for their first Christmas, and he had plenty of other sentimental gifts, ones she’d all but planned out years in advance.

And now, it seemed like nothing could top it. Except perhaps his wedding band, which they’d just selected only a few weeks ago.

“Wait, are you Nesta Archeron?”

Nesta returned her attention to the girl, who had her bag of goods in her hands. Her brows were in her hairline, her mouth dropped open.

“I… Yes, I am.” Nesta replied, still unaccustomed to being recognized in public.

“I thought you looked familiar. You’re my favorite author!” The girl gushed, her entire face brightening. “Would you… Would you sign my book? I got the last copy on release day. I absolutely adore the love interest. How he accepts Aurelia even with all her quirks and dark days? To die for! Did you base him off your fiancé?”

Nesta couldn’t hide her smile this time, knowing full well that most of his description did indeed from the man waiting just a few feet behind her. And with that thought came a new idea, one that seemed so simple, yet hadn’t before crossed her mind.

“Perhaps. And I’d love to,” She replied, reaching out to accept the copy and a pen. It was still so surreal, even after all this time, to see her own work in person.

Quickly, she signed her name, wishing the girl a happy holiday season, before shutting the book and handing it back.

“Thank you so much!” The girl said, looking so unequivocally happy it made Nesta’s throat tight. It was remarkable that someone was this happy about her writing.

“And…I’m really glad you found your person. I hope one day I find mine.”

“You will,” Nesta said, accepting her jewelry with a larger smile. “I know it.”

---

Over the course of the next week, Nesta’s nerves about what to buy eased.

Only to be immediately replaced by her nerves about if each recipient would like the gifts she got them.

It was December 23, less than a day remaining before the entire family would gather for Christmas Eve dinner. Nesta was always nervous to meet with them all at once, it was a feeling that would likely never quite go away. But now, at least, it was more anticipatory. Would Elain and Feyre like their gifts? Would Mor and Amren? Rhysand and Azriel?

As she looked down at the wrapping paper in her lap, the boxes strewn out in front of her in the living room, she ran through her gift checklist one more time. A warm glow was cast over the living room, the Christmas tree lights twinkling. Cassian had lit a fire a few minutes ago, and the heat of it soothed something deep in her soul.

It would be fine. These were good gifts. She’d wrap them, and everything would be perfect.

“Nes, sweetheart, I found the rest of the scotch tape.”

Nesta lifted her eyes, smiling gratefully at Cassian as he padded back into the living room, settling down on the floor, his back against the couch. Nesta shifted down to join him, reaching for Azriel’s gifts to place into a box. With meticulous precision, she taped it up, wrapping it in navy-blue paper with silver stripes.

“You’re so good at this,” Cassian murmured. “You should make it a paid service.”

Huffing a laugh, Nesta reached for his finger, using it to hold a satin ribbon in place as she tied it off.

“I don’t think my skill is quite that impressive. Gwyn’s, perhaps. Or Elain’s. They'd probably make thousands.”

Cassian hummed, leaning forward to press a kiss to her head.

“Feeling better now that you got Emerie a slot in that coveted yoga class she’s been trying so desperately to get into?”

“Much,” Nesta replied. “Though, you know how nervous I’ll be tomorrow, anyway.”

His laugh was soft, and he shifted, his arm sliding behind her, pulling her close once she set Azriel’s wrapped package aside.

“Nervous about whether they will like your gifts or nervous about having attention on you while you open yours?”

Nesta swatted him lightheartedly, hating and loving how well he knew her.

“They’re good gifts, right?”

“Amazing gifts, sweetheart. You put Santa Claus out of business every year, and we all know it.”

“I do, don’t I?”

There was one thing, at least, she wasn’t nervous about anymore. And it was his own gift, which she’d finished only a few days ago. The idea had struck that moment at the jewelry stand, and every day since she’d worked to put it together.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, a proper smile on his face. “Does that make me Mrs. Claus?”

Nesta lifted her head, assessing with a raised brow. “I’m not sure. You can’t exactly bake cookies very well.”

Cassian reared back in mock offense. “That was one time, Nes. I could make a successful batch of cookies right this minute if you wished.”

Nesta shook her head, shifting to settle more comfortably against his chest. “I think I prefer you staying right here.”

His chest vibrated in contentment, almost a purr. His arm was a comforting weight around her, and not for the first time did she marvel at how her life had turned out. How she was spending her evenings with this man, in their house. It was all pretty perfect, if you had to ask her. And Nesta had been raised never to believe in perfect things.

“But yes, you know I love attention.” Nesta said with a sigh. “It’s always fine, I know. I’m not sure why I always get nervous.”

“You want everything to be perfect, my love. And it always is.”

Nesta hummed, though couldn’t say she was convinced. Still, she adored him for how soothed he could make her with just a few words.

“You know, I was thinking,” He added after a moment. “I know you don’t like all the attention on you when you get gifts. So, what if we start our own tradition of exchanging the night before? Just us?”

Nesta’s lips parted, and she sat up, assessing him. Her gift to him was wrapped delicately, sitting under the tree next to the one he’d placed for her, just hours ago.

“You want to?” She asked, something within her very much approving of the idea.

“Well, you’ve been very secretive about my gift. Maybe I can’t wait anymore.”

Nesta couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her lips.

“Alright.”

Before he could smile back at her, she was moving, pushing out of his arms, and crawling the few feet over to the base of the tree. Reaching, she grabbed her own package, turning back to face him.

“You sure? You like being the center of attention when there are gifts involved.”

Cassian smirked. “Because I always get the best ones from my lovely fiancé. I can brag about it all night tomorrow.”

Her cheeks heated, despite herself, but she smiled back, shifting back over to him. Holding out the package, she said,

“Well then, be my guest.”

“You’re excited,” Cassian replied, intrigue in his voice. Lifting the gift, he shook it lightly by his ear. “Should I be worried?”

“Just open it, you brute.”

His smirk softened into a gentle smile. With deft fingers, he untied the ribbon around the box and undid the paper along the taped points, not tearing. He truly knew her too well. She sat back on her haunches, watching closely, wondering only at the last minute if it was too stupid, too cheesy.

Cassian’s brows rose as he unveiled his gift, the title of her latest book staring up at him.

“This is… your book.”

Nesta bit her cheek, controlling her nerves. “Open it.”

His interest was clear in the focus that settled over his face, and he opened the cover. His eyes scanned over the note she’d penned there, an extra dedication to him and him only. Carefully, his fingers brushed over the various tabs throughout the pages.

“What is this?” He asked softly, opening up to the first one.

“We weren’t together when my first book came out,” Nesta explained. “And we were just getting started when the second came out. In this one, the main character, Aurelia, she-”

“Leaves the first love interest for the one she ends up with, I know,” He said softly, flipping to the next tab.

Nesta nodded, folding her hands in her lap. He had read the entire thing before publication, after all.

“This is…Sweetheart.”

Nesta shifted closer, evaluating which line he was looking at.

“Aurelia scowled as Ramin brushed a bead of sweat off his brow, the jagged mountain path looking nothing short of ominous. “I thought you said you liked the outdoors,” He said. “This is the outdoors.”

“I like sitting outdoors. Not hiking for thirteen miles.”

“We have to get up this hill, sweetheart. We need to get a better sense of our position.”

There, in the margins, was her script, slightly messy yet coherent to those who knew her best.

“October 4th, 2019. We went camping as a family, to Rhysand’s cabin. We got lost trying to find the campground’s maintenance buildings. We hiked six miles, because you wanted to get to higher ground, to ‘evaluate our position.’”

Each tab had a memory associated. Something Cassian did or said that Nesta had taken and put into this character, the manifestation of what love meant to her. From their petty arguments to the ways in which he understood her unlike anyone else. To how she knew it was him, from the moment they met, and no one else.

“Nesta, this is incredible.”

“I know it’s not much,” She said. “But I couldn’t figure out what to get you that you didn’t already have.”

“Sweetheart, it’s everything.”

Cassian looked up at her with genuine tears in his eyes, an expression that was almost reverence on his face. It filled Nesta with intense warmth, with love.

“You like it?” She asked, her voice a soft whisper.

He moved, quickly, closing the book with care and setting it aside, before he was crowding into her space, pressing kisses all over her face until he caught her lips, where he stayed for one, two, three, four more, until she was practically breathless.

Nesta’s hands rested against his own, which cupped her face, and laughed, just a little.

“I love it, Nesta,” He replied. “I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I will treasure this always.”

She pressed her forehead against his, relishing the affection she felt from him.

“I wanted the world to have a piece of how wonderful you are,” She murmured. “But the specific reasons as to why can be just for us.”

“What did I tell you,” He replied, dipping her head to press another kiss to her lips. “The best gift giver.”

Pulling back, he stroked his thumb over her cheek affectionately before moving towards the tree.

“I’m afraid mine may look quite small in comparison.”

Nesta shook her head, watching as he pulled the tiny box from its place atop the tree skirt. The man could bring her a rock, and she'd likely cherish it until she died.

“You know I don’t need anything special.”

“So you tell me every time I get you a gift, baby.”

He approached her again, settling down beside her and placing the box in her hands. It was the one she’d seen briefly at the Market, the one he’d hidden from her.

“I know you got me something that’s not sentimental, and I got you a gift like that too, for tomorrow night. But these, I think, can stay between us.”

Nesta couldn’t shake the smile from her face as she nodded her agreement. For several seconds, she stared down at the box, the gold foil of it glinting in the light. Cassian nudged her with his nose, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Open it, Nes.”

“Be patient.”

But even as she said the words, she was pulling the ribbon free and lifting the cover off. Her eyes roved over the necklace that sat nestled on a pillow of velvet, and she went still, her throat tightening.

“Cass…”

It was a simple pendant, one that held two stones – their birthstones, to be exact, bound together by metal that had been shaped to look like a single golden thread. Lifting it out of the box, she assessed it closer, lips parted in shock.

“Turn it over.”

She obeyed him, surprised at the small engraving that had somehow fit on the back. Their initials were there, with a year. Next year, the one they were getting married in.

“It’s beautiful,” She said quietly, running her finger over the gems. "Where did you-?"

“I had it custom made from the woman you saw me speaking to. I was picking it up when you so sneakily almost caught me.”

Huffing a laugh, she smiled down at the piece. Simple, yet elegant. Exactly her taste.

“Put it on me?” She asked.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

His hands were soft. They always were, when he touched her. In one gentle movement, he swept her hair over her shoulder, and in the next, he brought the necklace around her throat, the pendant resting perfectly between her collarbones. He clasped it easily, letting his hands slide over her shoulders, his head dipping to kiss her neck.

“I knew it would look beautiful on you,” He murmured. “But I still wasn’t prepared. You’re so stunning, Nes.”

Nesta leaned back into his arms, which wrapped tightly around her, the warm spices and cedar she associated with his scent enveloping her senses. Tilting her head up, she caught his jaw in a kiss, grinning as he dipped his chin to meet her lips properly.

“Merry Christmas,” She whispered, lacing their fingers together where they rested on her stomach. "I love you."

Cassian all but melted at the words, squeezing her tight and settling back against the couch, just holding her.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart. I love you too.”

---

The next evening, when Nesta and Cassian arrived at Feyre and Rhysand’s house to celebrate, arms full of gifts, her family’s eyes caught immediately on the gold pendant around her neck. Mor and Feyre pestered Cassian for hours, wanting to know where, exactly, it had come from. Azriel had kissed her on the cheek, complimenting her politely as he always did, warm and protective of her as he was. Elain gushed, and Amren smiled approvingly, always appreciative of fine taste. Even Rhysand complimented it, clapping Cassian on the shoulder.

It was a soothing experience, a welcoming one. It filled her with the confidence she didn’t know she needed, to say without hesitation that she belonged here.

And as the family settled around the tree, anxious to pass out gifts, any lingering anxieties faded away to nothing. Nesta couldn’t deny it to herself any longer, nor to those around her. In that moment, she felt entirely complete, entirely content. Entirely sure that this was the life she was meant to live, here with these people.

Just as Cassian had promised, everything was entirely perfect.

--- End ---

[lazywitchling]

Alright, here we go. My review for The Dabbler's Guide to Witchcraft by Fire Lyte

Final rating: ??/10 - it broke my numbers system.

TL;DR - I like the book. I'm angry at the author. It's great for new practitioners. If you're going to get it, please get it from the Spiral House Shop, get Alex Wrekk's two witchcraft zines to go with it, and go look at/reblog/contribute to the original Dabbler's Week project.

(Also I think this is the longest review I've written yet. I'm sorry.)

This book is very good. I'm mad about that. The author is an excellent writer. I'm mad about that. I want to dislike this book but I can't, and I'm mad about that.

So let's get into the breakdown of why.

First up, a housekeeping thing: "Fire Lyte" is a pen name that I don't believe the author uses anymore, so I will be referring to him as Don Martin, the name he is using on his current projects. I know he's on TikTok, formerly of Inciting a Riot podcast, now of Head on Fire podcast.

Second, some links relevant to the review-which-is-actually-just-a-rant:

The breakdown of things I found that were taken uncredited from Tumblr

I COULD be making this up and reading it in bad faith, but this bit about 'heteronormative marriage' has my alarm bells ringing

Why I hate the title of this book

The original Dabbler's Week project links

Anyway.

I picked this book up specifically because of the title. It's been 3 years since it was published, so it took me a while, but I remember looking at that title when it was first out and thinking "Hey... the timing of this... did this person just wholesale lift the 'Dabbler' idea from Tumblr?"

The answer is: Yes, probably!

(He also summarized the Malachite Dick post from February 2020, but he actually credited Tumblr along with relevant usernames, so that's good and also made me laugh.)

But... yeah. The fact that he's crediting Tumblr from something that specifically happened in February 2020, when the original Dabbler's Week was from late January 2020 and seems to have inspired his whole book? Don, would it have killed you to mention ANYTHING about that project and the people involved?

He's very big on talking about following trails of information, listening to podcasts, listening to the podcasts of people talked about on those podcasts, reading books talked about on those podcast, and so on. But if he doesn't start off by saying "Dabbler's Week was a project issued by asksecularwitch on Tumblr", then how is anyone supposed to follow THAT chain of information, hmm? If his whole advice on finding good witchcraft resources is to follow the chain of people who are sharing information from each other, but he makes no mention of where he got the whole idea for his book, then what?

Side rant: I'm real tired of how Tumblr information is simultaneously treated as too shitty to ever bother reading or mentioning, but good enough to screenshot, repost on other sites, recite word-for-word on tiktok, and apparently write a book about.

ANYWAY. I'm angry about it. I'm gonna be angry about it. Here, please look at these links to the shenanigans that began the original Dabbler's Week, because Don certainly won't tell you about this part.

Anyway.

Some bad things:

I mean, the plagiarism. I keep hesitating to use the word 'plagiarism', because to me that seems like wholesale lifting entire works and slapping your name on them, when all Don did was fail to credit a few Tumblr users he quoted. But then again, if I did that on a research paper in college, it would be called plagiarism, so.

This book is in fact not a great guide for 'dabblers'. The point of Dabbler's Week was that if someone didn't know if they wanted to commit to witchcraft but wanted to fuck around with casting some spells for a week to try it out, there were week-long guides on things someone could do to try that. This book is not for fucking around with magic, it's for people who are already sure that they want to make this a thing in their lives. It handles some heavier topics (e.g. vetting mentors and not getting sucked into a cult) that are very very important for someone who is BEGINNING, but may be too much for someone who just says one day "lol I think I'll cast a spell for fun". A far more accurate title would have been "The Beginner's Guide to Witchcraft", but then he'd lose that punchy and marketable and googleable term 'dabbler'. (Yes, I'm going to be petty about this.)

"Wow Jes, it sounds like you really hated this book."

NO I DIDN'T, AND I'M SO MAD ABOUT THAT!

Some good things:

The author has a writing style that I enjoyed very much. This is a personal preference, but I like when books are either written so that the author is fully invisible (Bree Landwalker's books do this wonderfully), or the author is fully visible, like they're sitting at the table having a conversation with you (Kelly-Ann Maddox's 'Rebel Witch' comes to mind, as does Alex Wrekk's 'Brainscan 33: DIY Witchery'). Don Martin is the table conversation kind. That makes this book very easy to read, while also getting information across in an easily-understood sort of way.

This book fills a very necessary gap in modern witching books. It talks about the online community of witches, and a lot of the pitfalls that have come along with the bonuses of having so much witchcraft available at our social-media connected fingertips.

He gets very in depth with things like cultural appropriation. That's something that you can find in a lot of modern witch books, but Don actually spends the time breaking the concept down and explaining WHY it's harmful, HOW it affects people, and quotes people from the affected minority groups. I have seen the appropriation topic come up in a lot of the witch books I've read, but Don is the one who has covered the topic the best, imo.

He spends time on topics that I myself would have been dismissive of. The example that comes to mind is the chapter 'Can I Make Sh*t Up?' My knee jerk reaction was "Yes, you can make your own spells, you don't need to get someone else's permission. Next question." But Don goes through the full breakdown of yes you can make up your own spells, yes you can make your own correspondences, but no that doesn't mean you can just throw a water soluble crystal in your water bottle because you think it's good for cleansing.

Actually on that topic, he covers a lot of the why not just the what. It's not just 'appropriation is bad', it's 'and here's why'. It's not just 'research your herbs', it's 'here's some examples of things that can and have gone wrong.'

SPELL CANVASES! There are 11 'spell canvases' in this book, and they're pretty much all just kids/teens science experiments (e.g. dissolving an egg shell in vinegar, lighting a tea bag on fire so it flies, and using food dye to color a white flower). He does not give intentions for these spells, but gives a spell technique and then some examples of how you could apply your own purpose/intention to it as needed. It's actually pretty smart, and now I wish there was more stuff like this.

He actually explains what UPG means. Man, 'UPG' is one of those things that I keep seeing as a 'I don't know what that means and I'm to afraid to ask' blog post. When someone pops into the witchy social media circles, we can throw the term 'UPG' around as if everyone knows what it means, and forget to actually explain that it's Unverified Personal Gnosis and what that means. Don's got us covered. Good on you, Don.

The one throwaway line about why you don't have to buy fancy witch things. Tucked away in chapter 12 is this almost nothing-sentence mentioning why you shouldn't be "going broke hoping to buy your way into 'effective' magic" (pg. 161). I have seen, reblogged, probably written posts about 'No you don't need the fancy tools! You can just use whatever! But you CAN buy them if you want, you just don't NEED them.' And we've all seen those around, right? But damn, if Don didn't just get to the heart of it. You can't buy your way into skill. YES, Don, THAT!! THANK YOU.

Alright. I'm running out of words. This isn't a review, it's a rant. Holy shit. Let me shut up with a TL;DR

Almost without doubt, Don liked Tumblr's idea enough to write a book about it, but failed to give credit. But he's an excellent writer and covers a lot of topics that are not often written about in printed books, and to get those blogosphere-ideas onto bookshelves is invaluable. This is a good book for beginners starting out in witchcraft, but not for dabblers who just want to screw around with some spells. Do the pros outweigh the cons? Is it ethical to buy a book when the author gets royalties but the bloggers he got the idea from do not? I don't know. I can't tell you that. You'll have to weigh all this against your own moral compass and decide for yourself. My recommendation is that if you're going to buy it, please buy it from the Spiral House Shop, because if Don Martin's going to get paid for this book, Alex Wrekk should too. Buy Alex's zines. Reblog Sec's posts. Links are up at the top.

[icallhimjoey]

so apparently there are some rumers, that joe is dating a girl called kate and that they revealed their realiationship at bfi. I mean I dont care who he is dating, as long he is happy, so am I. But where do those rumers come from?? There is literly no information, just those people saying that they are dating and sending hate mails to kate…

okay, FINE, im going to get into this, tell you all i know, and then that can be it for the questions i keep getting about this, because it really is neverending (and insanely annoying to me) so, lets go

kate is a writer/director who works with/for 'film hub north/bfi network/rianne pictures' as stated in her instagram bio, lives up north near newcastle and is gorgeous

at the london film festival this year she has gone to see hoard

she posted a pic to her insta stories of the Q&A after hoard from her seat in the cinema (like so many other fans did too) and said some nice words about luna and she tagged some people

one of the producers reposted the story into their stories which i think is how people "found" her

kate had a pic taken on one of the bfi red carpets (by herself) AND had a pic taken in a large group, one of who was lorn (lauren quinn - no relation - this is not about her, but people draw conclusions about this too)

NOW

just a couple weeks before, joe made a playlist on his spotify account called "Kate's" with two songs in

so, some girls went 1 + 1 = this is a relationship

kate has red hair and is literally stunning, so they're saying "she's his type, must be true"

kate got messages/insta comments asking about it, she posted a story to her insta that said something along the lines of "this is silly please stop this is my professional account i should be able to post what i want without being harassed i have body dysmorphia pls leave me alone"

went private and then public again shortly after

when i say that there's been 0 actual proof that these two people even know each other, i truly mean that there's 0 proof that these two people know each other at all

if we're just looking at the facts: she's a fan

the end

every time people have been trying to link them up, joe's been pictured/filmed to be by himself

couple weeks ago, kate posted stories to her instagram of her being in malta and, presumably, people started asking questions, because she very quickly went private and deleted the insta stories

she went public again shortly after, and the day that joe was pictured doing a lil food shop in his local tesco's, kate posted a mirror selfie in a lift and behind her, there's an arm in the frame - now, imo, not even close enough to touch her bum, but people went BLACK COAT, THAT'S JOE AND HE'S TOUCHING HER ASS

big sigh

so

what kate is NOT doing is coming out and denying anything, which is a choice

she doesnt have to do shit, she doesnt owe anyone anything, but to hit the snooze button and ignore everything is definitely a choice

in turn, some girls are taking the no-denying as proof of it being real and have made twitter and tiktok accounts and KEEP FUCKING SENDING ME QUESTIONS THAT KEEP PUSHING THIS TO BE THE TRUTH (they are not nice about it either)

i have yet to see any truth to any of these rumours - to me it feels like a lot of stories being pulled from thin air that some girls find extremely entertaining

i do not

i have no interest in this

don't get me wrong - joe'd be lucky to date someone as pretty as kate, she seems lovely, but i am going to need some actual proof before i just go with whatever some people are trying to sell to me as the truth

please do not reach out to me on anon about this

if you have anything you want to discuss with me, please find me in the tumblr chat messages

thanks <3