#but if they insult Charles all bets are off

[charles-leclerc-official]

Drivers I am going to be following the closest this season(as far as on track driving goes):

Charles Leclerc (obviously) George Russell Logan Sargeant

Drivers I will post about if there is anything really notable in a certain race: Fernando Alonso Lewis Hamilton Alex Albon These are the drivers who I am most interested in seeing how they perform on track in 2024. This doesn't mean I am not following my other favorites(like Max and Oscar) but I am probably not going to do in depth analysis. And just because everyone isn't on this list doesn't mean I don't like them, I just don't have time to follow everyone's season that closely.

Obviously if there are any big incidents etc I will talk about it. Especially if Max and RB have any issues(I doubt it but anything can happen during a race)

Still going to be posting about everyone and doing weekly race analysis. But I will always be mainly focused on Charles and Ferrari, and then how these other 5 drivers are doing and what it means for their teams and careers.

Anyway this is my plan for this season, so you're gonna see a lot about these guys(especially Charles, if he gets a podium there is a good chance I forget other drivers exist so you've been warned)

Charles is really the only driver I care about, I want him to do well. When cheering my loyalties lie with Charles and Ferrari. This shouldn't come as a surprise but I am saying it now before racing begins. My analysis will heavily focus on Charles and how Ferrari are managing his season. I would sacrifice any driver for him to do well and win everything ever.

However I am very interested to see what this season has in store for everyone else:

Lewis this season should be interesting because of it being his last season at Mercedes. I'll be interested to see how they play it with him. Also I am hoping that we really see George just shine this year, I think that as Mercedes are going to have to shift towards him he may get more priority which will be interesting.

I'd do Max but if it's anything like last year there won't be a whole lot to say. Like if you run a perfect race what do I do besides cheer?

I always like following a driver in the mid/rear field. I think that Logan's career is at a make or break it point, and with the improved William's car I am excited to see what he does. He has proven himself to be fast, and the gap between F2 and F1 being so big I think with a full season of F1 done he will be fighting more regularly for points.

Fernando is just my guy, if he does something cool I will have to talk about it!

Alex is also a hot driver on the market and his season will probably inform which seat he gets(or if he stays at William's) I like Alex as a driver, and he's also one of the key silly season players.

But just remember, this is a Charles garage first, everyone else is behind him in priority for me.

[allzelemonz]

Dare: The Van der Linde Boys X Male Reader

(Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Micah Bell, Sean MacGuire, Javier Esquella)

Fictober Prompt: Day 17, Multi Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘fella’ and ‘man’, heavy masculine implication Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: (have you ever been in a men’s locker room and things got a little weird), smut, background relationships, masturbation, hand jobs, kissing, oral sex, blow jobs, dirty talk, facial, cum swallowing, Micah being an asshole, flirting, casual sex, everyone is gay but especially Bill Summary: Drunk Sean wanting to get off prompts a dare to jerk off and last longer than anyone else at the fire. Gay chaos of a sort ensues.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Arthur nearly shrieks, his head turning away from a much drunker Sean.

“Oh, come on now, Englishman.” Sean giggles. “We’re all men here, ain’t no trouble at all, is it?”

His hand palms at the bulge in his pants. A bulge that has only now been noticed and has the rest of camp’s attention. Bill fixes his eyes for a few seconds before he looks away, shifting his legs nervously. You try to look almost anywhere else.

Sean grins. “Ya know what, fellas, I bet you I can get myself off ‘fore any a’ you.”

Micah scoffs. “We all heard yer whore goin’ off ‘bout how ya can’t last, cowpoke.”

Sean hisses, stilling his hand. “Fine, then I bet I can ‘least outlast a greasy arse of man like you.”

“What?” Javier grimaces. “You want us all to sit here with our dicks out?”

“Embarrassed, Mister Escuella?” Sean laughs, giving him wavy eyebrows.

“We’re not all gonna jerk off in front of each other.” You mutter. “That’s insane.”

Sean sits up, putting a falsely offended hand over his chest. “That ain’t fair, big man.” A grin grows over his face. “What if I dared all a’ ya?”

“A dare?” Charles mutters.

Sean proudly puts his hand over his bulge. “I dare each a ya ta last longer than the legend Sean MacGuire. An’ whoever lasts longest, I’ll give ya my share a’ the job.”

The men around the fire shuffle, some hiding their own erections, others simply uncomfortable. It’s just a handful of the young men here, sent out for a train job. Arthur stares into the fire, as does Charles, Bill glances all around as he tries not to look at anyone at all, Micah and Javier seem more insulted than anyone. A dare is an odd thing, often able to make a man do things he never would, stupid things at that. And one like this, as odd as it is, is almost a challenge to each one of your own masculinity. Everything about dicks is.

You assume that’s why it’s Micah that starts unfastening his pants first. “Fine.” He mutters.

And Javier follows, wordless. Then Bill, fumbling quickly. Sean flicks his eyes between the rest of you as he fishes himself out. You admit, confident in your manhood or not, a dare is a dare so you pull your dick out as well. Arthur grumbles something to himself, doing the same. Charles is the last, seemingly embarrassed and likely thankful that his complexion hides most of the heat in his cheeks unlike most of you.

“Alright.” Sean says proudly. “Everybody gives a good effort, whatever ya like, long as ya don’t stop. Huh?”

Nods follow, each man showing their nerves in little bits and averting their eyes as much as they can. Plenty of you have been naked in front of each other or just caught glimpses during a piss break, but it’s much odder with this context to see each other’s dicks in hand.

“Count a’ three then.” Sean grins. “One! Two…! Three!”

You lick your hand and wrap your fingers around yourself, focusing down on that sight as opposed to anyone else. You flick your wrist loosely, moving slow and trying to ignore how the shivers spread over you. If you were alone it wouldn’t be much stimulation, but knowing you’re surrounded by six other men makes it just a little more exciting.

When you chance a glance up you find shamelessly wandering eyes and slow strokes all around. Arthur’s face is flushed red as his eyes stare around, the most shame anyone has. Sean lets noise spill from him easily, his hand the first to move faster. He doesn’t last long past that, Micah laughing at him as he releases.

“Shit…” Sean sighs, staring down at the mess of his pants.

Some of the other men still, looking at the loser of the little competition.

“Well don’t stop on my account.” Sean says with a smile. “Winner gets my share a’ the job, remember?”

The slow strokes continue.

Sean looks around for a moment before you see a grin spread over his face as he tucks himself away. “‘a course, that don’t mean I can’t play favorites.”

“The hell’s that mean?” Bill mutters.

Sean stands, slowly making his way over to Micah. “Ain’t like ya need the money, do ya?”

Micah eyes the Irishman warrily, but makes no move to stop him from dropping to his knees. Sean shocks everyone around the fire when he takes Micah in his mouth. Micah hisses, moving his hand out of Sean’s way and into his tangled red hair. Bill gasps next to you, his eyes fixed on the sight. You look away, the thought of Sean’s share of money paying for a nicer saddle or something keeping you restrained. Micah caves, gripping Sean’s hair and fucking into his mouth until he releases.

Sean coughs and splutters, swallowing most of the cum before he can pull himself away. “Least…” Sean spits. “Least  you ain’t winnin’, ya lousy arse. When’s the last time ya wash that little thing a’ yours anyway?”

Micah scowls at him, tucking himself away. “You wanna play rough, MacGuire, fine.”

It’s like a cloud of hated lust washes the sense from everyone, both Micah and Sean moving to a target they don’t want winning.

As Arthur glares at Micah, Sean smirks. “New rule, boys. Ya get picked by somebody that’s out, ya gotta let ‘em try fer at least a minute.”

“That’s stupid.” Arthur mutters, eyeing Micah as the blond smirks down at him.

“Only fair, Morgan.” Micah says. “I ain’t gonna be the only fool that got out on a technicality.”

Arthur grumbles, but doesn’t stop Micah from gripping him and stroking furiously. Your heart skips when Sean’s eyes meet yours and he takes a few steps forward.

“No hard feelings, big man, Bill said he’d buy me a drink.” Sean snickers as he drops to his knees in front of you.

You shudder when he touches you, your hot skin buzzing at his cool fingers. But before you can blink, his mouth has engulfed your entire length. Sean is far too good at this. He bobs his head and you will yourself not to give in for the minute he has.

Across the fire, Arthur shoves Micah away. “Ya had yer chance, sick bastard.”

Micah grunts, wiping his hand on his pants before turning to Bill and starting his process again. Bill moans at the touch, struggling not to buck up into Micah’s hand. You’ve lost track of Sean’s minute, but he wasn’t far behind Micah so you shove at his shoulder.

“Better luck next time.” You say, your voice shaking a bit as you replace your hand.

Sean grins up at you, whispering. “Hope ya win.”

Likely because he’s losing his promised drink with the way Bill is shutting under Micah’s touch. Just as Sean reaches Javier to tease, Bill releases with a gasp. Micah grins to himself but you catch it, you also notice how he doesn’t stop as Bill shakes but instead strokes him through it.

“Get Morgan.” He mutters.

Bill nods, sweat covering his face. Micah straightens himself and glances between you and Charles, opting for you after a few seconds.

“Sorry, cowpoke.” He mutters. “Just rather touch you than him.”

“Fuck off, Micah.” You say through gritted teeth.

Micah smiles at you as he sits down next to you, leaning close as his arm wraps around your waist and his hand closes on your dick. “That ain’t any way ta talk. I’m ‘bout ta get ya off, ain’t I?”

For as much of an ass as Micah is, he’s good at this. Your mind wanders, picturing all the times you’ve seen Micah by the fire cleaning his guns. His fingers wrapped around the barrel as he drags the cloth over the metal.

“Shit!” You gasp.

Micah’s hand feels better than Sean’s mouth did, fast and furious strokes making you have to stop yourself from squirming. A low groan from Javier takes him out as he fills Sean’s throat, the Irishman not pulling off like he did with Micah and choosing to swallow it all this time. Only a moment later, Arthur mutters a curse as he releases onto Bill’s face and dirties the man’s beard. He mumbles an apology as Bill grumbles about it, both of them blushing deeply.

“Alright, alright.” Sean says. “Let’s give our finalists a chance.”

Micah leans a little closer as he takes his hand back. “Win this, cowpoke.”

You shutter as his breath hits your neck.

Sean grins. “Hands away now, boys! Take a breather.”

Charles pulls his hand back, resting it on his thigh as he eyes the group. You swallow thickly, still feeling all the heat from Sean and Micah’s attempts. Charles hasn’t even been touched once, he has the advantage.

“How should we do this, boys?” Sean asks, turning to the group of losers. “Let ‘em keep at it, help ‘em out?”

“This is stupid.” Arthur grumbles.

Bill is too occupied with trying to get the cum out of his beard to answer.

Javier is still catching his breath from his orgasm.

Micah shrugs.

“Fine.” Sean grins. “I’ll be the judge ‘ere. Javier an’ Bill.” He points to you. “Ya work on ‘em an’ Arthur an’ Micah get Charles.”

No one moves for a moment. You look over and share a sympathetic look with Charles.

Sean groans. “Come on, boys! Have a little fun… I’ll buy a round a’ drinks.”

It’s enough to get Bill at your side, Javier follows as Micah and Arthur go to Chalres.

“Alright, count a’ three.” Sean grins, rubbing his hands together like the schemy little shit he is. “One, two…three!”

Bill goes straight for your dick, wrapping his big hand around it and stroking almost as well as Micah. You screw your eyes shut, trying to focus on lasting. It becomes infinitely harder when Javier’s hand dips below Bill’s and finds your balls still tucked in your pants. He leans in close, whispering a mix of English and Spanish in your ear and you know well enough that every word is dirty even though you try to tune it out. You can hear Micah snickering in the distance and take it as a good sign, he’d be the type to laugh at Charles getting off and losing. Bill’s other hand wanders up your chest and squeezes at your pecs briefly before he winds it under your shirt and feels at your skin. Javier’s other hand finds your jaw and his fingers trail as he turns your head. Your eyes peek open in time to see him smirk, then he kisses you as his hand squeezes at your balls firmly.

With their hands all over you, you can’t hold it anymore. It’s like a burst. The waves hit you hard and you spasm as you cum over your pants. Bill strokes you through it, his other hand gentle as it settles on your waist. Javier muffles whatever odd little noises you would have made, trailing off in smaller kisses before he stops. You open your eyes to look at him and he kisses your cheek with a wink. The three of you look over at the competition. Micah is stroking furiously, as he did with the others he tried to sabotage while Arthur kisses Charles’s neck and a hand plays with his nipples under his open shirt. Charles won, he hasn’t cum yet.

“Damn it.” Bill grumbles, glancing at you. “Was hopin’ you’d win.”

“Your fault.” You reply, breath still not quite back in your lungs.

Bill blushes. “Sorry, got, uh, caught up…”

“‘s alright…” You slur, head spinning still.

Sean doesn’t say a word to stop anything, holding a finger to his lips to silence any of you from alerting them. It’s only fair. Charles holds strong, though he seems to enjoy it when Arthur kisses him properly as his hand grips the other’s hair and holds him in place. Micah, never one to like losing and still unaware of his sealed fate, takes Charles in his mouth. Javier has to clap a hand over his lips to keep a laugh from alerting them. All of you sit in shock, never expecting Micah to suck off a man he berates on a daily basis even for the sake of winning some silly competition.

Charles’s hips buck and Micah moans when his hair is gripped and his mouth is used. His hands do nothing to stop it, only wandering over Charles’s thighs as he’s used. It only takes a minute after that, Charles’s hips stutter and he holds Micah flush to him as he releases. Arthur continues to kiss him and Micah is held in place despite his squirming until Sean clears his throat.

“Ya won, boys.” He grins. “Unless ya wanna keep goin’.”

Micah shoves himself away, falling back on his ass as he spits and coughs. Charles watches him, smiling for a moment before pulling Arthur closer and continuing.

“Alright then…” Sean turns to you and your saboteurs. “Anybody else all cheeky now?”

Bill grumbles something, standing and going over to Micah. He grips the smaller man by his collar, yanking him to his feet and shoving him towards the little collection of tents.

Sean has his eyebrows raised when he turns back, but he grins. “I ain’t gonna lie, I seen them hidin’ in the trees a couple times.”

“So you made us all get each other off?” Javier smirks, his arm draping around your shoulders. “Lousy move, cabrón.”

“I didn’t make ya do a thing ya didn’t wanna.” Sean crosses his arms. “It ain’t my fault you boys all wanted ta fuck each other.”

You sigh, remembering to tuck yourself away and glancing over to the winning fools. They’re nowhere to be seen. “They sneak off?”

“Suppose they did.” Sean chuckles. “Filthy sods.”

Javier waits a beat before turning to you. “Seems like everyone else is having a good time tonight. You wanna?”

Before you can answer, Sean whines. “Ya gonna leave me out? I’m the one that got ya started!”

“You’re taking then.” Javier mutters.

Sean grins. “Happily.”

You shake your head, sighing. “Fine, I guess.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy me, cariño.” Javier whispers, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

You hang your head, smiling softly. “Shut up, Escuella.”

He tugs at your arm as he stands, pulling you with him.

The fire light dies down over the course of the night. Faint, muffled moans and whimpers can be heard if you really listen, but it’s mostly that distinct sound of skin hitting skin that echoes well into the night. Some of you can’t walk in the morning, very much complicating the robbery and no one knows how you all are going to explain the failure to Dutch.

[the-offside-rule]

Max Verstappen - Nice To Meet Ya Part.2

Part 1

Max stood outside Y/n's hotel room, waiting for her to finish up getting ready. He kinda convinvced himself that he would be able to take her out on a date and know her a bit better, maybe enough to get a date out of it. He lifted his head up as he heard her door opening and out she walked in a black jumpsuit and jacket. His jaw quite literally dropped. "Alright there Max?" she mused. "I- yeah. We should get going shouldn't we?" she asked. Max nodded in response before the pair walked to the elevator together. "If the team dinner gets insufferable, can I take you out?"

"No." He was a bit taken back by her answer. "And why not?"

"Because this dinner is to celebrate your win today so therefore you need to stay."

Max groaned in frustration. "I think the date I had planned would blow your mind though." Oh she hated how cocky he was getting. "It takes a lot to blow my mind Verstappen." she replied coldly. "Well I think if you gave me a chance you would like it." He wasn't giving up and it was becoming a serious problem now. "Max, your team dinner. Maybe some other time." And now Max was being bothered by her. "Do you just not like me?" he asked. She looked at him strangely as it had just come from his mouth after a very long and uncomfortable silence. "If you don't like me, thats fine just tell me so I can not like you in return." She scoffed. "All that your father taught you, you'd think he'd at least teach you how to talk to women." Max clenched his jaw in anger. "So you don't like me then?" he muttered. "I didn't say that -"

"Well that is what it sounds like!

"You are actually a child!" she retaliated. "You just insulted both me and my father!" he yelled back. "Killing two birds with one stone! I may as well since I have the chance!" Now he couldn't help but have this burning hatred towards her. "You know what? Maybe I should have listened to everyone and not asked for your name! My life would be so much better if I hadn't!"

"Excuse my french but fuck you!"

"Well excuse my french but j'adore la mer!" Y/n knotted her eyebrows at him, confused out of her mind. "Who told you that was an insult?!"

"Charles did!" Y/n snorted and began laughing. She couldn't keep angry for very long after he just belted out that he loved the sea in the hotel lobby.

"What is so funny?" he asked. "You just said you adored the sea!" Max's cheeks flushed red from embarrassment. "I-I'll just go-" he was cut off by Y/n grabbing his hand and pulling him back slightly. "Wait for me! I beg!" He fought the urge to smile very well but found it difficult when looking at her so his best bet was to of course look away. "Did you really not know what that meant?" She asked, finally calming down. "No, but Ferrari are going to find themselves short a driver." Max mumbled. "Oh come on! I thought it was funny. Cute even." Max shot her a glare. "Cute? F1 drivers aren't cute. This one isn't anyway." Y/n chuckled to herself. "That's not true. You're adorable when you're grumpy and when you're happy so there's no way you can't be adorable." He tried to find a middle ground quickly and settled for a poker face. "That's so cute!" she squealed lightly, making him break character and laugh along with her. "You know what? Let's speed run this date thing."

"What? I thought you wanted to go to the team dinner." he questioned. "Yes but I thought you wanted to ditch it and since you're a driver, you must be quick and used to speed running things." Max smirked and nodded. "So are we going to speed run our date then?"

"Ready when you are..."

[turnthemasunder-if]

Charles, this one is for you.

Just wanted to let you know that I love your resting bitch face and your bad attitude like when a girly pop starts acting grumpy.

You and I, my friend, we can be besties.

So, to my question:

Will you help me make Maria love me?

Kroz I gotta admire your dedication for the woman but let's see how Charles will respond to your ask.

Author: Charles my brooding friend I do say I say I love the look(I point to his(Red Crimson Suit) Not to mention those gold cuffs? Good taste my man.

Charles: (Crosses his legs) Thank you Author but let's cut to the chase, I know you want something from and not here to appraise my attire!

Author: Oh Charles very intuitive as ever(Hands him the paper) Still you're very right!

Charles: (Mouth moving, then moving closer the paper to his eyes) THE HELL?

Author: (Laughing) Profanities, my good man! Is unbecoming a gentle vampyr such as yourself!

Charles: (Composes himself) Apologies!

So this Kroz a good friend of yours, yes?

Author: My friend, my partner confidante!( Drones on)

Charles: I see(Got contemplative look) Well kroz I feel insulted and honored but mostly insulted when you praised my face.

Second, I thank you for offering your friendship!(Bows his head cordially) Although I think that can't come to past.

Now thirdly, the reason why I must decline! OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU CHOSE TO COURT AND TO FUCK YU CHOSE MARIA????

Author: Someone's getting jealous!(Mocking him)

Charles: (Runs a hand through his face) I'm not jealous!

Author: Then why the outburst

Charles: Its justified! Becuz I can't find any good reasons for someone to love that abomonation.

Author: (Wags my finger in the air) But Charles don't you know that someone adores you?

Charles: (Did a double-take) BULLSHIT!(eyeing me skeptical)

Author: There is!(I pressed) There's a lot of them actually but one remains to be your top follower!

Charles: PROOF NOW!(Getting curious)

Author: Of course, still I found it boring to just give you the person's identity! How about a bet? I even allow you to have two terms for me when I lo-

Charless: DEALLL(Thrusting his hand for me to shake)

Author: So eager(I shake his hand) Name your terms.

Charles: (Gripped my hand tightly) 1st All of us calls you Author we don't know your real name. So reveal it to us and use it from now on as your pen-name!

Second, I want you to reveal your embarrassing romantic moments in your life. (Smiling cruelly at me)

Author: I accept your terms! Although almost all my followers know my real name(I wink at him)

Charles: YOU TOLD THEM YOUR NAME(Letting go of my hand and crossing his arms) YOU TOLD THEM AND NOT US YOUR OC's I FEEL BETRYED)

Author: What a drama queen(I roll my hands) For my term, when your special admirer sent me an ask, you will do that ask without hesitation, questions, whining, nor your free will is out of the window. You will do it whether you like it or not!

Charles: Sure! Because I know that no one can ever fallen for me(Looking smug and hurt flashing in his eyes)

Author: Your hubris will be your downfall my friend.

So @loveandleases you heard the man! Sent what ask you desires for him to do. Have him running around naked in the park, invite him to dinner, make him jump off a bridge! Go nuts! No restrains and bars, go creative if you want.

Charles: Wait your not joking?(He ask getting worried)

Author: Nope!(Smirking at him)

Charles: OH NO!

Author: No takebacks Charles and this mark will serve as our accord(Making a tattoo apperead on his arm and my own)

Charles: I sold my soul to a demon( He sunk to his knees)

Author: Fool! Your soul already mine to begin with!(Cackling with mad delight)

Charles: Please @loveandleases(Crawling to the camera) Have compassion, I implore the goodness in your heart! HAVE MER-

END TRANSMISSION

[miryum]

Foundling Villa- Chapter 13

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster @chonkybonky @eau-rougee @champomiel @justyouraverageeverydaysimp @multifandom-loser

Warnings: Swearing, I think...? Is that all?

ao3 link  next chapter>>

“Do you hear yourself?” Arthur chuckled nervously. “Charles, you can’t be serious.”

“Maybe not, but we can at least spare a cavalry, right? Give the bastards a taste of their own medicine.” 

“Charles….” Lorenzo cradled his head in his hands. “We are not sending our men over to Redull just because one of their Dukes insulted Princess Y/n.”

“He put his hands on her!” Charles’ tried to keep his voice from rising. It was proving difficult. 

“And you punched him. All is fair,” Arthur said. 

“I still don’t like it,” Charles grumbled and slouched down in his chair. Pascale wanted to roll her eyes at her son’s immaturity, but she was happy it came from a place of love. She wasn’t sure what your relationship with Charles was, but Pascale knew love-struck fools when she saw them.

“If it makes you feel better,” Lorenzo said, “I had Hasting removed from his title of Dukedom.” 

Charles mumbled something under his breath, but his brothers couldn’t hear what he said. Arthur would bet his title it was a flurry of swear words. “I still want Y/n to have more protection and security,” Charles insisted. 

“Understandable. As would I, if someone hurt my wife.” Lorenzo nodded and gestured for someone to step forward. “That’s why I’ve asked Jules to accompany her to the Schumacher Estate. You may instruct one of your men to join them.” 

Jules bowed to Charles and while he felt a blooming of relief at seeing his old friend and mentor, Charles still had his doubts. He would protect you at any cost, even if it meant checking over details thrice. “And why not the Foundling Villa?” Charles asked. “She feels more comfortable there.”

“Because, as you may have realised, the Foundling Villa cannot hold the amount of guards and servants Jules employs. Princess Y/n will have plenty of space for her and her servants, if she wishes to bring them.”

“Lorenzo,” Charles cut his brother off. “What is the real reason? We both know Jules doesn’t need the amount of servants the Schumacher Estate requires. He could easily move into the Foundling Villa if he chooses.”

Lorenzo sighed. Charles took notice of the eyebags and Lorenzo’s stuck up hair from running his hand through it one too many times. “Charles, I didn’t want to tell you this in fear of you informing Princess Y/n, but we have lost our alliance to Williams.”

“How is that possible?” Charles gaped. “The entire purpose of my marriage is to secure that alliance.”

“No, the entire purpose of your marriage was to secure supplies. Your little… argument with King and Queen L/n disrupted that tense trust. The alliance was shaky to begin with, but now it has crumbled.” Lorenzo explained, “We don’t know if Williams will now side with Redull, but we cannot trust Williams. King and Queen L/n know the location of the Foundling Villa, but the Schumacher Estate is very well hidden, protected, and easily defendable, as you’re aware.” Charles nodded once and Lorenzo continued, “For Princess Y/n’s safety, I want to move her there. I would done it whether or not Hasting came onto her.”

Pascale places her hand on Charles’. “My dear, I know the question running through your mind.” Charles’ eyes pricked with the telltale sign of tears. He blinked hard, pushing them away. His chest ached as though someone had splintered his heart. Charles was terrified. Pascale took a breath, and said, “if she wishes, then yes, she could divorce you. There is nothing binding you anymore.”

Charles turned and gripped his mother. His hug was more of a plea; a plea for Pascale to make you stay. His throat burned with a sob, but he held it in. Advisors were still in the room. He couldn’t let the extent of his sadness show. Pascale ran a hand through his hair, quiet. It should be you comforting him. But Charles would make sure you never knew. He would do everything in his power to keep you with him.

Even if it meant lying. 

**

The carriage bumped along and you cursed. The letter you were attempting to write was ruined by a streak of wayward ink. Pierre Gasly snickered beside you. You glared at him, but both of you knew it was fake. You could never be mad at Pierre. Charles had chosen him to accompany you for a reason- the two of you got a lot splendidly. 

Jules rolled his eyes, sitting across from you as you ripped the parchment and started over. 

My dearest siblings,

Is it true? Are you forbidden from writing? Do Mother and Father have such a grip over you that they control what you pen? 

It saddens me that they have such an impact on our lives. 

I’m moving, once again. I didn’t mean to- nor am I sure I want to. But Charles thinks it’s for the best. 

Speaking of my husband, what do I do if I fear he’s hiding from me? He’s been reserved the past few days, and I don’t know why. Brenda or Robert, do you have any suggestions? I know Ralph won’t have any helpful hints. Ralph, I want you to know that I am mentally flipping you off. There’s no reason behind it, other than you’re an asshole. 

Even if you have ideas or can think of a way to help, I doubt you’ll be able to write to me. I don’t know where I’m going. The estate where I shall be residing is concealed to a point where only Jules and a select few know where it is. 

Whatever happens, I love you. More than Mother or Father could break or distance. I don’t fault you for their actions. Give Kaitlyn and Marie my undying love. 

Your sister,

Y/n 

“I can send that for you, once we reach the Estate,” Jules suggested. You nodded gratefully. Pierre reached over and snatched the feather from you. He scratched some doodles into the margins of the parchment, snickering. Jules rolled his eyes. You had to cross some of his sketches out. You deemed them too graphic for your family, even though Brenda would likely find them hilarious.

The carriage suddenly veered to the right and you cursed, slamming into the window. Pierre laughed loudly and you brought your heel down onto his toes. This time, it was Pierre who swore and Jules was the one to chuckle. 

You peeked your head out the window and instantly had to duck, a tree branch almost whacking you in the face. “Where the hell are we?” The carriage didn’t seem to be heading down a distinct path. The “road” was dirt and mud, but the horses seemed to know their way. You thought back to your servants in the carriage behind you and hoped they were faring on this rocky path better than you. You had only taken Elena, Sara, Yuki, and Lando. Technically, you didn’t need Yuki or Lando to join you, but they had become part of your family. Lando’s face when you asked him to come along was worth it.

After another fifteen minutes of twists and turns on the rocky road, Jules leaned out of the window “to make sure no one followed us.” When he was satisfied, the carriage turned once more, carefully weaved through a set of trees, and the Schumacher Estate came into view. 

It was a majestic house- if you could even call it that. Only royalty could look at the Schumacher Estate and see a house. It was shaped in a W with light brown stone constructing the base. The roof was a pale green, which you later learned was to blend in with the trees. Two large windows stood at the front and smaller ones peppered the sides. Two spires paralleled the house and what Charles never told you was that the spires were built specifically for defence. They were the perfect places to strike down an enemy, even if the enemy outnumbered you. 

A small stable sat to the side and you instantly instructed Lando to give the horses water and comfort. Against Jules’ better judgement you had brought along Sixteen and Fifty-Five. You still had yet to name them.

As Jules’ servants were helping you move in, you caught a snatch of Pierre and Jules’ conversation. “How long will we stay here?” Pierre asked quietly. 

Jules didn’t answer, waving Pierre away and giving him a stern look. 

“Don’t do that,” Pierre grunted. “I need to know what you and the Leclercs have discussed if I’m to keep Princess Y/n safe. You can’t hide things from me.”

“Just like how we’re not hiding the alliance development from Princess Y/n?” Jules shot back. 

You turned to glance at them and both men shut up. “What’s wrong with the alliance?”

“Princess, you needn’t worry about it. King Lorenzo and Prince Charles are working on it.” Jules smiled softly.

“But if they're working on it, then something must be wrong with it.” You frowned, stepping towards the pair. Panic started to build within you. What would this mean for you and Charles? “Does this have to do with Charles and I’s marriage? I- I know Williams has broken communications with Enza, but I’m sure I can help my parents see the error of their ways. It’s- it’s not over.” 

“Princess, please don’t worry.” Jules reiterated, gently taking your elbow and guiding you into the house. He led you up two flights of stairs and into a large room. “This shall be your room for the time being. I hope you can settle in and find your stay comfortable.”

“I’m sure I will…” You were a little disoriented by the quick subject change and it seemed like Jules would do everything in his power to avoid your questioning. “But what about Charles-” You whirled around to see the door close. Jules was gone. 

Sinking down into the bed, you wondered how things could go from content to uncertain so quickly. 

You remembered the carriage ride back to Enza from Redull. Charles had spoken softly about his childhood and you, in turn, swapped stories. It had felt as if a dam had been torn down. But now, by not knowing what was happening, the dam was being built up again. You could do nothing but watch as people separated you and Charles; he stood at one end of the river, and you the other, as wood was piled on to conceal you from him. Water slowly filled the river you stood in and you were helpless as you began to drown. 

Maybe you were taking the metaphor too far, but needless to say, you felt as if your timid connection with Charles was splintering. And you were pretty sure it had something to do with the alliance your parents secured with Enza. If the alliance was breaking, would your marriage with Charles break as well?

As you sat in this foreign room, you couldn’t help but realise: You missed Charles.

[thefandomenchantress]

DRDT Incorrect Quotes (Pt. 1?)

I got bored and decided to share some of the incorrect quotes that I made a while ago. Hopefully they’re in-character, haha.

Levi: *Walks into the room* Why are you standing on the table?

Ace: Because I can!

Levi: …Where’s the spider?

Ace: On the ground, please kill it, what if it crawls up!?!

David: That’s ridiculous! Xander doesn’t have a crush on me.

Teruko: Yes he does.

Whit: Yes he does.

Xander: Yes I do.

Eden: Look, I made a friendship bracelet for you!

J: Oh, I’m not really a jewelry person…

Eden: You don’t have to wear it.

J: No, I’m wearing it forever, back off.

Random Guy: Some dude’s going off the bungee swing backwards!

Charles: Ha! What an idiot.

Whit: I’M GOING OFF THE BUNGEE SWING BACKWARDS!!!!!

Charles: FUCK THAT’S MY IDIOT!

Hu: Are you laughing at that video of Xander and Arei fighting?!?

Teruko: No.

Teruko: I’m laughing at the comments.

Rose: With great power…

Rose: Comes the need to take a nap. Wake me up later.

Ace: Guess I’m just too tough to cry.

Levi: Just yesterday you were crying about snakes.

Ace, terrified: THEY DON’T HAVE ANY ARMS!!!

Hu: Sorry it took me so long to get you out of jail.

Whit: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have used my one phone call to prank call the police.

David: Quitting! It’s like trying, but easier!

J: Don’t worry, I have a permit.

Hu: *Inspects it* This just says ‘I can do what I want’.

*At the zoo* Xander: What’re they in for?

David: Xander, this isn’t a prison

Xander: So can they leave?

David: No, but—

Xander, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.

Teruko: Hey, what’s the name of the guy that lives down the hall?

Nico: His cats’ names are Walter and Rose.

Teruko: That’s not what I asked.

Nico: That’s all the information I have.

Whit: Wow, this parking is as straight as I am!

Charles: I know I should be focused on the fact you just came out, BUT HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY PARKING!

Arei: *Jumps in front of the object Rose is painting* Ha! I jumped in front of your picture, now it’s ruined!

Rose: Arei, this isn’t a photograph. I’m not going to just paint you into my—

Rose: *Realizes she painted Arei onto her canvas* Aw sh—

Eden: *Eating a cinnamon roll*

The Fandom: …Cannibalism.

Eden: *Confused chewing noises*

Arei: Ugh, there’s always that one weak bitch in the group who isn’t down with murder.

Arei: *Glares at J*

J: Well, sorry I have morals!

Ace: I’m proud to say I’ve overcome my fear of ghosts!

Levi: Ah, that’s the spirit!

Ace, jumping into his arms: WHERE?!?

Arturo: Veronika…Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?

Veronika: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned.

Arturo:

Arturo: I wrote sanitize, Veronika.

[eyitzme]

ˢʷᵉᵉᵗᵉˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ; ˣᵃⁿʳᵉⁱ ⁽ᵈʳᵈᵗ⁾ Summary: Xander Matthews is so nice to Arei Nageishi! It's obvious that he should be since he's her boyfriend, duh, but the way he's this nice to her because he wants to be makes her start thinking about their relationship differently. Word Count: 2,758 A/N: This was inspired by a pin on Pinterest that said, "Why is my boyfriend only nice to me when I'm sleeping? He'll cover me up with a blanket, kiss me on the forehead and sometimes come and cuddle me but when I wake up he calls me a stupid bitch." This was meant to have pre-sleep fluff and end with Arei starting something that makes Xander call her a "stupid bitch," but angst somehow got in when I specifically said that this was supposed to just be trashy fluff. This doesn't even end with the "stupid bitch" comment because the angst makes it look out of place, but we're just going to roll with it. I want to get more motivation to write more Xanrei but don't have it. Maybe posting one shots here will give me it :p

you're so nice...

Arei Nageishi was a wonderful human being! Who could ever say otherwise? Well, maybe Xander Mathews, but he got a free pass. Was it because of favouritism? Obviously! You had to be a special person to get away with calling her insults others called "constructive criticism," and as her boyfriend, Xander was very special.

Arei had a long day today. Going bowling with Ace Markey, annoying J Rosales, hanging out with Xander, annoying J again, studying for an upcoming test with Min Jeung and Eden Tobisa, annoying J for a third time... She was just a very busy person. Xander offered for her to stay at his place for the night, which she, as usual, accepted.

"I'm so tired," Arei said through a yawn as she entered Xander's apartment. She kicked off her shoes and took off her winter coat as she made herself comfortable on his couch. They had been dating for almost a year—longer than the bets Teruko Tawaki and Charles Cuevas made on "when" they would break up—so she could treat his apartment however she wanted. It was basically her home now anyway. She stayed at his place more often than her own. In her defence, it always felt more comfortable here than her apartment. Hers didn't have enough Xander.

As Xander put his winter coat away, he said, "You can get ready for bed. I need to call Whit first."

"Okay then. Goodnight, Xander!" Arei waited until he told her goodnight back before she went to his bedroom.

Xander's apartment had two bedrooms. He lived alone, so the other bedroom was a guest room in case a friend wanted to stay over. When Arei first stayed over almost a year ago, he was ready to prepare the guest room for her when she joked about them sleeping in his bedroom together. Arei received a flustered Xander as a reward, which she enjoyed more than she thought. She wasn't all too aware of her feelings back then, and apparently, neither did he. But, before they knew it, they were dating the next morning. Not like she was complaining.

Unfortunately, he was used to her sleeping in his bedroom with him by now. She wouldn't see him flustered with that anymore, but it was still nice being in his bedroom than the guest room. Like her apartment, the guest room didn't have enough Xander in it. It was always more comfortable surrounded by him—but she would die in a ditch before she said that out loud.

Arei stepped inside Xander's bedroom, closing the door behind her. If she was being honest, his bedroom was her favourite place in the world—her happy place, if anyone ever asked her what it was. Everything was so Xander. From the messy bed to the curtains to the posters, she loved it there. It was the reason she wanted to sleep in his bedroom when she first stayed over. His bedroom looked so safe and comfortable, and it reminded her of him. Even with how he could be stupid and reckless, he knew how to make sure others felt safe. And it always worked.

Arei reached up and let her hair down, blue strands falling over her shoulders. She had some of her own clothes left at his apartment—whether they were by accident or not was something only she would know—but she normally wore Xander's spare clothes to sleep in. She liked to tease him about his clothing style, but they were nice enough to sleep in. He never told her that she couldn't wear them anyway. She knew from the moment she saw how red his ears got when she first wore his clothes that she could wear them whenever she wanted, but she felt something else along with happiness at the realization.

She laid down on the bed with plenty of soft pillows. He bought the pillows a few months after they started dating. While he could sleep wherever if he tried, she needed at least two soft pillows to sleep comfortably. He found that out soon, and so he bought more for whenever she came over. She was surprised that he noticed that, and he was even more surprised at how he casually brushed it off as if it was nothing. Like doing that was just to be expected.

Buying the pillows and letting her wear his clothes showed that he was more considerate that she thought he would be. It wasn't like she had low standards for him; she saw how he cared for their classmates, even if he was reckless at times. She was more surprised at how caring he was specifically to her and her alone. From their relationship prior to dating, she thought he would be a little more hostile. It made her start thinking about how they acted in acted in their relationship, and it stuck with her even now.

Xander hated corrupt people. She listened to him rant about them enough to know that for a fact. She was sure that by his standards, she was one of said corrupt people. How he could stand to date her, she didn't know. How she could stand the niceness he gave her when she was sure she didn't deserve it from him, she also didn't know.

Arei turned on the bed so her back would be facing the door and closed her eyes, forcing herself to stop thinking about it. If she wasn't tired before, she certainly was now. Xander could just do that to her.

. . .

Arei felt a hand on her cheek. She recognized who it was from how the hand felt alone, but she still opened her eyes a crack. She still wanted to see him.

Her eyes found Xander's face almost instantly. Seeing her awake, he quickly said, "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine..." Arei found her eyes closing again. He always did this whenever she stayed over. He'd cover her with the blanket, kiss her goodnight, and cuddle with her until they both fell asleep. It was always so gentle, and the reminder of it refilled her mind with the two questions she had for months: Why was Xander so kind to her, and why wasn't she as kind back?

Just as she thought, she felt the blanket climb higher up her body. The bed shifted under Xander's weight as he sat next to her. His hands ran through her hair, brushing her bangs aside. She could feel his gaze on her, and she knew that if she opened her eyes, she would see a gentle look in his eyes. It was a dumb look, but she loved knowing someone could look at her like that. Then, she would remember who was looking at her and why he shouldn't, and she found herself hating hey still loving it at the same time. It was so stupid.

He would leave soon for a bit. She knew that was probably coming. Then, he would come back and finish the rest of what he usually did. Just the thought of it made her stomach twist as she wondered what she had done for him. She had to do something if he treated her like this, right? But she couldn't figure out what for the life of her.

It was probably better to ask now than later. She couldn't have this with her during their one-year anniversary, could she? Arei opened her eyes halfway and said, "Hey, Xander...?"

"You're still awake?" he asked, his voice quiet. Why did she have to fall for someone with such a calming voice? Even his British accent she loved to make fun of was working so well with his voice.

"Obviously." Arei's voice didn't sound as snarky as it might've if she had more energy in her. "Just...had a question."

"Is something wrong?"

"Yeah. Why are you so nice to me? It makes no sense..." Again, her voice didn't sound as snarky and it might've. She decided to blame it on her tiredness.

Even in the darkness, she could see a frown form on Xander's face. "What do you mean?"

Of course she had to explain the obvious to him. Why did she had to find that endearing? "Exactly what I said. Why are you so nice to me?"

"Well...you're my girlfriend."

"That doesn't mean you have to be nice."

"Are you...asking me to be mean to you?"

Arei sighed. "Never mind. Forget I said anything..."

"No, don't go to sleep now...!" Xander gently shook her back awake. "Arei, what's wrong?"

Stupid Xander being so caring. Couldn't he just care even just a little less about her? He was just adding fuel to her questions. Idiot!

But Arei still found herself sitting up by herself to prevent sleep from coming. She avoided making eye contact, which was hard with how brightly yellow his eye colour now was. Words starting coming out of her mouth without permission. "Why are you so nice to me? I'm not stupid, you know; I know how I acted before we were dating. I know how I act while we're dating. You've always been...nice and considerate, and it's weird. Why aren't you at least a little mean to me?"

Xander stayed silent as she talked, and he stayed silent after. She didn't like it. Couldn't he just say that she was delusional and move on?

"I'm nice to you for a lot of reasons. I'll give you three right now," he finally said. "First, you're my girlfriend."

"That doesn't mean—"

"Let me finish." His hands went over top of hers, and he started rubbing circles on them with his thumb. "First, you're my girlfriend. Second, I don't like being mean when I don't have to be. Third, everyone deserves kindness—especially you, Arei."

Again, words came out before she could stop them. "Do I? You know how I treat other people—how I treat you. But you still somehow thought that I can be a worthy girlfriend who deserved...this. Why? Why do you even like me in the first place?"

She hated how she sounded. Her words and voice were pathetically needy. So weak and vulnerable. That was not who Arei was at all. Why did she have to talk in the first place? Just pretending to be asleep until he left wouldn't have caused this.

Xander was silent for a moment after she asked that. Eventually, he said, "I...honestly don't know why I like you."

She felt her shoulders sag as her fingers curled into her palm. That was literally the most obvious answer. She didn't know what she expected.

"But that doesn't change the fact that I do," he added. "And because I do, I want to treat you right."

"To prove to everyone that we can have a relationship that lasts more than a few months?"

"And because I want to."

"But also because of that."

"I'm not going to deny it..."

Despite herself, Arei found herself smiling a little.

"Why are you against me being nice to you though?" he asked slowly. "Just do you know, I'm not going to be mean to you just because you want me to be."

"That wasn't even what I wanted—" Arei stopped herself before she said it. She changed it to, "Xander..."

"You can say it," Xander said with a smile. Was she that easy to read?

"If I say it," she replied, "then I'm just proving my point—and that's not what you want."

"It's fine. Just say it."

Well, if she had permission, she might as well say it. "That wasn't even what I wanted, stupid. Do you even listen to anything I say? Why am I even wasting my time on you?"

That came out a lot easier, but almost too easy. It was just what she was used to, and that was a bad sign, wasn't it? He didn't flinch while she said it—he was actually smiling—but she was sure it did something to him. It had to, right?

Xander lifted one of Arei's hands to his lips. Even though their one-year anniversary was coming up, she still felt tingles spread from where his lips touched her skin like how it was when he first did it. When her hand was pulled away, their eyes met. She pulled her other hand free from his grasp to put it under his chin and lift his head and kiss him.

Arei took note of how the kiss was gentle and nice. That was how she would like to be with him all the time. Even with all her pride, she could say that was what he deserved. It was so confusing why someone like him would pick someone like her when there were plenty of other people who were fitter to be his lover than her. Why would he want to be with a corrupt person when he hated them?

She leaned back, reminding herself to keep even breaking the kiss gentle. Kissing him when she knew that his opinion on her was going to change the moment he found out who he was truly dating was too uncomfortable. He wouldn't want to be with her after he found out what she did to her sisters on purpose. Who cared about how they treated her? No one did before. She was definitely a corrupt person in his book, and that meant a breakup would be very soon.

All of their classmates were right about doubting they could last long in a reltionship. They almost made it to a year only because Arei never told anyone her past. But she should tell Xander before their one-year anniversary. He shouldn't have to know that he wasted a whole year with someone like her.

Xander's hand pushed a strand of her blue hair behind her ear, staying on her cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her other cheek before resting his head on her shoulder.

Arei took his hand and held it. Could she ever get used to how trusting he was of her?

To distract herself from her thoughts, she said rather quietly, "You better not fall asleep on me again like last time. You're way too heavy for me."

His voice was just as quiet when he responded. "I'm not that heavy. Besides, you're the Ultimate Bowler. You should have some strength in your arms, right?"

"That doesn't mean I want a whole elephant laying on me, Alexander. It's even worse that this elephant's British."

"Hah. Hah." He made no move to get off her.

Arei didn't actually mind that he didn't. His weight was comforting, almost like a heavy yet warm blanket. She laid down on the bed, Xander shifting on top of her just to make them both more comfortable. His head remained nestled onto her shoulder, and her arms wrapped around him to keep him close.

She listened to his breathing, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath. Her focus was only on his warm body that encompassed her. This was her boyfriend for a few months short of a year. An actual boyfriend who wanted to cherish her. How did she manage to get this far and not realize that? How stupid was she to not know how lucky she was?

"Hey, Xander?" she whispered, not wanting to break the silence.

He didn't respond. From his steady breathing, she guessed that he fell asleep.

"Goodnight, Xander," she told him quietly. After a second, she added, "I'll try to be a better person for you. Even if I know you'll breakup with me once I tell you about my sisters."

Arei was going to add that Xander was dead to her if she was awake the whole time but was only pretending to be asleep, but she stopped herself. Even if she didn't like being that vulnerable around anyone, it felt more natural to not say anything. It was a baby step in becoming a better person.

Arei was going to follow through with it. If he actually was asleep or forgot about it in the morning, she hoped Xander would notice her changes. He was so kind to her, and it was about time she returned it. Then, he could decide if he wanted to breakup. She was a corrupt person, so there was no judgement on his part if he did. She just wanted him to know that she could truly be a good person.

[tetralea]

Hi Dori, do you have any idea on teen-soap-drama vibe karting Charles x Max? (Woooooorshiping eyees🥺)

Loool, angsty teen drama. 💃

Do you have that moment when your heart breaks because your crush is talking to someone else they seem to be interested in? Well, I assume one of them at least once experienced that, and maybe it resulted pushing each other off track, maybe even the third party, it’s not nice and they can’t communicate so fluid yet, because they are learning English only, mostly Charles, baby just can’t express himself as he would like to all the time.

It goes on for a few races, their battles are getting more intense because Max talked to another boy like that and Charles is seeing red, they are not that young at that point maybe 16 or so. People around them getting boyfriends and girlfriends and Charles know what that means, as much a 16 yo can know lol he know enough, that if Max was his boyfriend he could hug and kiss Max and Max would talk to him more and not to that other boy. Charles goes overly dramatic to make Max jealous and makes a hickey on his own shoulder, like the angsty teen he is, and kinda tries to show it off in the race and also hide it from the parents. So there are boy rumours that he slept with someone, well, clearly, since they have a hickey. (I don’t know where I am going with this but hold on.) The parents are worried and try to talk to him but he is all sweet smiles and denying everything.

It doesn’t work, like at all, Max couldn’t be bothered seemingly, which hurts Charles even more and he decides that this can’t go on like this. He changes tactics, he tries to woo Max, leaving small gifts for him, like chocolate or a sandwich which Max said he liked and Charles asked his mom to make it even if Charles doesn’t like it particularly and his mom gave him a look he wouldn’t yield. So, yeah every race he gifts something to Max but in secret and tries to see his reaction, maybe one time he messes up. He leaves the foil wrapped sandwich at Max’s cart, but since Arthur is also there their mom put labels on it, and now he left a gift for Max with ‘Charles’ on it. Poor boy has a heart attack when he realises, he tries to get it back but it is already too late, Max got it and eating it, smiling, pushing the label into his pocket to hide and protect it.

Later he corners Charles, and Charles is stressed and babbles and Max is not the best at social interactions either. So he says something like “you lost your sandwich and I ate it” like it is an insult, when in reality he wants to thank Charles so he adds, “it was delicious btw” only after realising that it didn’t help much lol but Charles is smiling so much, because Max liked the food!! He liked his gift even if seemingly he thought Charles lost it. So Charles keeps leaving things for him and now it’s more a cute way of courting than anything hehe and they try to “accidentally meet” after or before races to chat a little and Charles tries everything from, “you have something on your clothes” till “I bet my hand is bigger” to initiate any kinda touch between them. Until one time they are both out early from the race and Max takes Charles hand and pulls him into a shed where the park stores go karts for the public and it smell like oil and tires and it’s dirty, but it’s the most private place he could think of.

“I’m sorry I’m not giving you gifts.”

“How do you know they are from me?” Charles tries the play dumb strategy in vain.

And Max just gives him a look and pulls out the old liber from his pocket. “I know.” He gives Charles a small smile, and Charles is red from forehead till his neck and Max finds it very sweet. “It was on them a few months ago.”

“Why did you keep it?” Charles asks too sharp and too fast and Max shrugs, because how could he tell Charles it makes him all warm and happy on the inside when he looks at that small paper with his name on it? He would this he is stupid or in love and no one wants that.

“Look, I just wanted to say I can’t give you gifts all the time but I can give you something in return.” Suddenly his voice is clear and determined and Charles is a bit confused. “I haven’t gave it to anyone else so I hope it makes up for all the food your mom made.” It sounds much dumber than it did in his head but Charles tilts his head so it doesn’t matter.

“Okay.” And Charles shouldn’t sound as expectant but he does and steps closer a bit.

“It’s not something you can keep but I can give it to you later too if you like it.” And Charles is nodding, and licking his lips and he is so nervous. “Can you close your eyes?” And thee is an awkward second but Charles does, his fingers gripping the seem of his suit, and he barely can breath. And suddenly he can feel Max close, really close, and then there is something touching his lips and it takes him a good second to realise Max is kissing him. Well it is more of a peck, maybe a little more the plump lips capturing his but not for long. He feels Max’s hand on his neck to keep him in place and he makes a sound he wasn’t sure he was capable in theses situations. Max pulls back a bit unsure and scared.

“I don’t think it makes up for all the sandwiches.” And Max is scared shitless. “I mean it’s not enough, I mean…” oh and fuck it he can’t say it, his brain is not working mostly not in English. He grabs Max and pulls him close, one hand on his waist, the other on the back of his neck kissing him timidly. It’s new, and odd and wet and warm and mostly wet, and tingly and neither of them wants it to end. They told their heads almost at the same time and Max’s hand goes into Charles hair making it into an even bigger mess and Charles whimpers and he shudders when Max’s tongue is touching his. He has no idea where all this is coming from, how the hell he knows how to do it, it if it is even good the way he does it, but Max is pulling his closer so that is a good sign. They just hold each other, trying to get closer and closer, their bodies are hot and every piece of clothing becomes annoying, it’s strange, and they are a bit sloppy and get braver and try new things some of them has a good reaction and some doesn’t. They are both panting, lips glittering and swollen when they break apart.

“Is it fair for the food?” Max asks, be he has to make sure.

“Yes, if you do this ever time I give you food it’s okay.” Charles nods grinning and kisses Max again because hello it feels hella good and they get so lost in it, also it is hard to know when to end it and it just drags out. “I haven’t, I haven’t done this either before.” Charles blurts out. “And if you do this to anyone else I’ll ruin all our races forever.” It supposed to be intimidating but Max is just giggling and agrees he won’t.

When they emerge from the shed they are both flushed and lips red a little, trying not to grin like idiots. It becomes a habit of course, the best pre and after race ritual any of them could have imagined.

[skippyv20]

I wish there was an article about the Royal Family and how they actually do marry who they love with a few exceptions. George V used to say if if he didn't see his wife on a daily basis he would feel upset. That was an arranged marriage but they seem to love each other and support each other. King Edward the eighth loved the woman he married and George the sixth adored his wife Queen Elizabeth and asked her several times to marry him before she acquiesced much to the delight of the whole family and especially to him.

Elizabeth II married the man she was very much in love with, and her children all married who they were at least initially in love with except for Charles's first marriage and Princess Margaret. The grandchildren of the late Queen all seem to have married people they are in love with. So I don't know where Harry gets off on saying the people in the royal family don't marry people they are in love with. I don't know about the cousins of the queen but I know Prince Michael of Kent was in love with Princess Michael of Kent. And I'm willing to bet that Princess Margaret's two children married who they were in love with when they married. Sure some marriages end up in divorce as people grow apart. But in Andrew and Fergie's case, they stayed best friends and kept living together and they do still love each other. I would actually say the Windsors have a very good track record of having great marriages where two people love, support and respect each other. Obviously they love to play the I'm a victim of racial discrimination and of media abuse, and that was expected. But to claim people in the royal family don't marry for love is just ludicrous. And he insults his family so much.

Great post! Thank you❤️

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

From the thingy you reblogged:

Therianthropy (and other goddamn lies)

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

5: What part was hardest to write?

7: Where did the title come from?

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

Hey guys trigger warning, this fic involves child abuse and suicidal thoughts and actions, and so do my replies.

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

I think it's actually probably this one:

It’s that scene, right? In the Christmas Carol. Tiny Tim, God-Bless-Us-Everyone Tim, he says, I don’t mind when people stare at me because I am a cripple, because it might remind them of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who made lame men walk and blind men see, and that might be pleasant for them, God Bless Us Everyone, A-Fucking-Men. 

It's such an ugly line, is the thing, which is one of the reasons why I love it so much. It's crude. You've got this famous disabled character known for being this shining beacon of goodness and hope and Christmas time, and he's discussed in a very callous manner.

Except, fundamentally, Tiny Tim was always something more to be missed than an actual character. He was a symbol of goodness and charity and tragic loss and has no real personality of his own past how fucking good and gracious he is--which like, to be clear, I'm not shitting on Charles Dickens, he's fucking Charles Dickens and you can pick absolutely any character from any book written pre-1920s and it's a solid bet they're meant to be a symbol rather than an actual character. That's just how the literary field as a whole worked for a while. I'm commenting more on how Tiny Tim most exemplifies the trend of the tokenization of disabled characters.

Like, disabled characters are always given the treatment of being this eternal symbol of suffering being so brave making it through life. Matt Murdock as a concept is fucking revolutionary in the sense that he's an actual three-dimensional disabled character. He's extremely complex and is so much more than his disability. His disability isn't ignored or """"""""overcome"""""""", it's just a part of him. The bigger problem is, people tokenize actual disabled people too, not just fictional characters.

**As a warning, in the next paragraph, I'm going to discuss Catholicism specifically for a bit. I speak entirely to my own experiences with it and I'm not looking to insult or cast judgment on anyone within the religion. Religious experiences are different for everyone and my impression based off of what I experienced is not meant as a commentary on any universality. That being said, religious experiences are different for anyone and a lot of people have trauma. Skip the next two paragraphs if you don't want to hear any commentary on catholicism at all.**

I was raised catholic, and I'd put solid money on the fact that Matt Murdock couldn't step in a church without at least two strangers coming up to him and telling him that God gave him this suffering for the spiritual good of them all. Like, some of the Catholics i knew were fucking weird about making suffering collective (not speaking on all Catholics, just my personal experiences). There are multiple saints who go through disabilities and illness "to offer up the suffering for the good of other's souls." There's a girl who died in an exorcism and people claim she was a holy soul willingly possessed by multiple demons so she could offer her suffering up for others. And many catholics that I knew would be so fucking ready to walk up to you with zero prompting and tell you that God is making you suffer for the good of all others, especially if you're visibly disabled.

Like, fucking imagine that. Imagine walking up to a stranger with a broken arm and being like "the pain you feel is so that others may not have to suffer the holy fire of purgatory" like babe that is not at all a thing you should ever say to someone.

I think there's this huge pressure to be the "perfect" disabled person. The Tiny Tim, who's extremely gracious about all the people being objectively rude to him, because it reminds them of the good Lord Jesus Christ, Amen God Bless. He would have been entitled to his anger. He would have been well within his rights to find them horrifically rude. And I'm not saying you have to respond a certain way about people being rude about your disability, but I'm saying that there's this unreasonable expectation around the disabled community to be these shining little beacons of gracious suffering instead of like. actual fucking people getting about their day. So I love this line because it's Matt taking this standard and not being the perfect gracious blind boy. He's bitter and crude and that's o-fucking-kay.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

I'd say it has to be this:

“I can be something other than this,” Matt tells them. “But I don’t think I want to be.”

I think it's important that Daredevil is a choice that Matt consciously made. It wasn't just gravity, inevitable, it was something he picked.

He could have picked just being Matt Murdock. Be the best goddamn attorney around, but that would mean ignoring all he heard. It'd be an implicit denial of a huge part of himself. He could have been the greatest soldier in the Hand, but that would mean ignoring all he could be as Matt Murdock. Daredevil's a specific choice, and I think it's the only one that lets both halves live together. I also think that it's only one that makes sense if it isn't the only thing he could have been.

One of the biggest things about this Matt is the fact that he's forced to permit his own helplessness. I'm going to talk about this more in #5, but talking about his abuse was difficult, because the fact that Matt Murdock is an abuse survivor is hugely important to who he is, but I didn't want it to be like, trauma porn. Anything I added, it had to be something that directly influenced who he became.

The thing about this Matt is that he's bone-achingly angry at every single person who decides to hurt someone helpless, and he's fucking humiliated because he was that helpless person at the same time. He could have stopped every single person who hurt him. he had to allow them the power to hurt the poor, defenseless blind kid. So it makes him an active participant in his own abuse--not in the sense that he was at fault, he fucking wasn't, but in the sense that he has the added suffering of having to choose to let people hurt him when he could stop them. That being said, all of the abuse that I explicitly outlined all was something that furthered that specific pain.

He could have stopped anyone who hit him, but he had to let them do it. He had to pretend to not know that people were watching him change, because he was blind, and he had no way of stopping them without revealing his super senses. Several of the injustices he suffered were centered on super senses--the abusive parents that slipped him benadryl, the ones that discussed him in terrible ways--that he had absolutely no way of addressing without revealing his true strengths. He's checked in the sense that he can stop them, but only at a cost that he's not willing to pay. It'd be a huge risk, anyone finding out about his senses. So he decides to not risk it. It's an infuriating, humiliating, traumatizing childhood, and that sense of being helpless and someone using that to take advantage is probably the biggest impact on who Matt became.

I say all of this because it's important to his choice to become Daredevil.

He could have been successful Matt Murdock, but he would have to constantly push down that righteousness that makes him him, and ignore the part of him who knew, viscerally, what it meant to be the helpless person. At the same time, he could have gone on a total power trip. There's a version of Matt Murdock in the comic books who became Kingpin. He has a lot of violent tendencies. He struggles with control and power trips. He could have just started hurting people without the part where he helped. It is so fundamental to the Daredevil decision that he could have been something else, but this is what he picked.

Because it's an actionable reversal of that forced helplessness all those years. He's changing the decision that caused him that much pain for that long, and he's doing it so he can be the person he never had--someone who steps in, and stops the bad thing. And a lot of that is his unhealthy tendencies too. The violence, the anger, the powertrips, the toxic tendencies--that's still there. It's not a one hundred percent altruistic or good decision. but it could have not been an altruistic decision at all, and that's important.

5: What part was hardest to write?

The abuse.

Fundamentally, Matt Murdock is a victim of systematic abuse. The things that happened to him when he was a child is vital to his actual character. That being said, I'm not a fan of adding in a bunch of explicit terrible events happening to a child just for the angst. As I said above, I had to walk a line and evaluate what I was putting in to see if it directly related to and explained the decisions Matt was making in the present day. He had to have visceral, bone-deep knowledge of what it meant to be helpless for Daredevil to function as a piece of his arc, and the best way to make the reader understand that is to make them feel the helplessness. That being said, I really didn't want it to end up as trauma porn, so I had to be careful and really evaluate what I put down.

7: Where did the title come from?

So "therianthrophy" is the name for the magical transformation that happens in folklore. Man to werewolf. Woman to mermaid. It's the actual act of change from one thing to another. And I named it that because that's effectively, what stick promised Matt and Lisa, and it was a lie.

Stick found kids who were so traumatized that they'd do anything to change from the person that got hurt into someone that couldn't be hurt anymore. So he hurt them even worse, and promised them it would turn them into something better and stronger, when really all they ended up was the same person with worse pain.

One of the core themes underlying Matt and Lisa's story is that there is no becoming someone else. You are who you are right now, and you will always be that person, and there is nothing that will ever change that. You will always be the person that got hurt. And there's a potential addendum to that, the fact that you can be the person who got better.

Lisa hasn't come to terms with the truth yet. Matt realized that right before his first suicide attempt, and it sounded so terrible to him at the time that he attempted. Over the years, though, he's gotten Foggy and Karen. He's starting to realize that being who he isn't doesn't have to be a terrible thing. One of his biggest hopes is that he can help Lisa to the same with a lot less pain.

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

I have a minor hobby that's defridging the Punisher's family. I've got like, four or five fics that i'd love to write around the castle family? I dunno if I ever will get around to them, but I love them. They're the ultimate fridged characters. Their only purpose is to die and be missed. I love making them real people.

Lisa Castle is, arguably, the most fridged of them all. Like, Maria is the classic fridged wife, but she's at least given the treatment of it being clear that her relationship with Frank had ups and downs, so she's not like some perfect, unstained beacon.

Frank Jr. actually gets shelved and ignored more than the rest of the family, especially in fandom, which I touch on more in the first step of kintsugi than I do in this one. But I find it interesting, because Frank Jr's the most explicitly not perfect one in the family. We hear Frank and Maria fought, but it's never shown. A negative word is never said for Lisa. But Frank Jr. painted marines on his mom's wall and parroted some stupid fucking shit he probably heard at school. His loss almost never gets the same prioritization as Lisa's and Maria's.

Lisa, meanwhile, is Frank's baby girl. She was strong and funny and his beloved daughter, and the most important thing about her character is that she was lost. He never read her a bedtime story on her last night alive. He held her when she died. She was Frank's baby girl and he misses her every day.

And, like. The penny and dime scene was fucking phenomenal. It was one of the best television scenes of all time. Jon Bernthal's acting was fantastic. It was heartfelt and tragic.

And one of the reasons why Lisa's loss, and the entire family's loss, is so tragic is that they don't get to be more than their loss, because they're dead. It's lost potential, lost energy, lost space, whatever you want to call it. It's a huge gaping loss, and that's why the punisher has such a painful and visceral storyline.

But that means that it implicitly has to make his family just... things to be missed rather than actionable characters in their own storyline. They're a backstory. They don't get to be more.

So I wanted to take Lisa, who was the "purest" of them all. Didn't have any of the fights Frank Jr had with his dad. Didn't have any of the (extremely normal) rocky aspects of their relationship Maria had with Frank. she's the dead daughter and she is doe eyed and sincere and wanted her daddy to read her a bedtime story. I wanted to take her and make her into a character that could really embody all the messy pain of life and recovery.

Because this Lisa did survive, and she has to grapple with the PTSD. She has to grapple with the loss of her family. She self-destructs and hurts others and hurts herself, and she's not that perfect, platonic ideal of a daughter to be missed. She's messy and complicated and hurting, and she's still worth every bit of love that the perfect version of her got. I'm not going to say what's coming, but Lisa's far from in a good place just because she's finally with Matt. She's going to act out and do some pretty terrible things. But that's completely understandable given where she is in the recovery process, and it's important to sever the conception of this "perfect" person with the one to be missed. Frank misses Frank Jr. just as much as he misses Lisa, but it's rarely shown that way, and I think it's a bit in part because his relationship wasn't shown to be as idealized as his relationship with Lisa.

So that's why it was vital that Lisa was the member of the Castle family that made it out. The reason why she needed to have Matt be the one to make a family with her was three fold.

it'd be so fucking funny.

can you imagine. your daughter dies tragically and you find out months later she's alive and has been adopted by the worst man alive. i fucking refuse to believe there is any version of frank castle that does not find the very concept of matt murdock insulting. he has never been more exasperated in his entire life. this man is so stupid. why is he in fucking devil horns. why does he have my daughter. god i want to fucking make them coparent.

2. it made the most narrative sense.

I needed a way to get Lisa out alive and in a way that easily introduced her back to the action. If frank survived the shootout, hypothetically speaking, anyone could, but they needed a way to be alive and off the radar. Stick is perfect. He's always looking for vulnerable orphans, and he directly feeds into the overarching conflict. Logistically, it made sense to bring her in through stick and then have that streamline straight into Matt.

3. It fulfills some of the biggest themes in this.

the first is saving each other instead of being the savior. family in this is about saving each other. it's not about one single person being the savior. foggy doesn't "fix" matt. Foggy can be a fucking mess on his own too, thank you very much. Foggy and Matt is a story about saving each other. They curb the worst in each other. Foggy is the one keeping Matt grounded, and Matt is the one keeping Foggy grounded. Foggy reminds Matt that the system can still work, but Matt in terms keeps Foggy from hiding behind the system. Like, I could write an entire essay about how foggy's moral approach is the platonic ideal of the Lawyer's Professional Rules of Ethics. Foggy believes in the system, but when the system doesn't work, he needs a push to leave it. And the fact of the fucking matter is, Matt's right. The system isn't working. Sometimes you need a dickhead in fucking leather fetish gear and horns to beat the shit out of a billionaire on live tv before people pay attention to the corrupt cops. There isn't any one "savior" in the family that sprouted up between Foggy, Matt, and Karen--each one of them is needed to make it work.

That being said, if Lisa was directly picked up by Frank, he would be saving her, and it wouldn't be mutual.

You could talk about how oh, lisa gives him a reason to live, lisa is his guiding light, lisa curbs his most violent tendencies, but that drifts uncomfortably into that territory of some random girl being the entire moral grounds of a violent man, and it would not be fucking fair to put on this lisa. This lisa is a mess of her own. She needs the space to heal without carrying the narrative weight of leading her father back from the brink.

The dynamic is completely different with Matt and Lisa. it isn't "Father saves his daughter," it's "two victims of the same abuser rebuild together."

Matt started in this as some kind of lighthouse to lisa, that was leading her to smash right up against the fucking rocks. She had an image of him on a pedestal, and it's one that can only lead her to self-destruction. In reality, Matt's someone who has lived experience deeply similar to her own. He's someone who understands what she feels in a way that no one else can, and that means he's able to help her heal in a way that no one else can.

Lisa, meanwhile, is a catalyst for change that Matt has never gotten in canon.

Canon matt is not fucking father material. This matt is not fucking father material. At best, he's the spencer to Lisa's Carly. But he's had to make conscious decisions to be better, to be the person he never had. It's a act of purposeful reconstruction that Matt has to either undertake or abandon entirely. Having someone so close that's a mirror of what happened to him is forcing him to heal from it in ways he never had to before.

I can't go too much into all the ways that Lisa's going to save Matt, mostly because we haven't seen them yet. She spent most of the last fic in foster care, so she hasn't been physically present to start driving the narrative by her own actions. Now that they're together, she can start affecting things, but I haven't written that yet. So, spoilers.

But I'd like to be clear, Lisa isn't some mini Matt from the past he now gets to save. Matt says as much, explicitly, because that's what most people assume. Matt really, truly, has begun to love her in the span of their relationship, and that means he's led to make the decision no one made for him--which was to take the effort. To step up, and to be the person they need. everyone else just looked at his mess and abandoned him. He's making the conscious decision to do the opposite, but he's not doing that because she's some totem of him that he can now save. It's an act of love, and that's revolutionary, because love is something neither of them were permitted. The Lisa and Matt dynamic started slightly from logistics but i kept it and made it into a story because it becomes a story about how picking love can be an act of rebellion and an act of healing all at once.

[im-constantly-fangirling-backup]

Here Comes the Cavalry

REPOST BECAUSE TUMBLR HATES ME

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swear words

Word Count: ~2.3k

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this, anon! I had a really fun time writing this and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Charlie's 10th birthday finds itself the center of a showdown between Thomas and his ex-wife over the new woman in his life.

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Being a friend of the Shelby's- didn’t matter how close or distant- was like walking around with a target on your back. But you didn’t mind. As much violence and chaos that the family attracts, and as much as they try to have power over each other, there was a mutual love and respect between every Shelby that you hadn’t seen anywhere else. For example, when Polly found out Tommy had hidden crucial information, she was pissed; but also proud. It was a bit concerning, if you were going to be honest. Even Grace was kept in the loop after the divorce. Once a Shelby, always a Shelby, you supposed. Grace wasn’t involved in the family business at all, but she and the family met occasionally. Although, as time passed on, it was mostly so Charlie could spend time with his father. Grace was now remarried and her visits were far and in between. She drifted apart from all the Shelbys- not that they minded, as her betrayal was still in their minds all those years later. Thomas started to move on from her as well, now very much used to Grace not being a part of his day-to-day life. Today was the day that Grace and Charlie were making a rare visit to the Arrow House for his 10th birthday. Thomas postponed all of his meetings for the entire week to make time for his son, an action that made you smile when you heard Tom tell his clients of his absence. And they call him heartless, you had laughed to yourself. “Ada! How are you doing!” you said, hugging your best friend before walking into the Arrow House. You took off your coat and hung it on the hook next to the door. “Oh I’m doing great sweetheart,” she said. “Auntie Y/NNNNNN!” you heard a little boy’s voice yell from the stairs. The pitter-patter of their feet running across the wooden floor echoed through the large room and made you chuckle. “Hello, Karl!” you kneeled on your knees and opened your arms for Karl, who ran into them and almost made you topple over. “Someone’s excited to see me!” You squeezed him lightly, resting your cheek on his head. You pulled away from him and reached into your purse, grabbing a chocolate bar that you had bought for Karl. “I got you something!” Karl smiled, his cute crooked teeth on display. “Thank you!” He grabbed the bar from your hand and started unwrapping it, running away from you and towards the living room. “Uncle Arthur, look what Auntie Y/N gave me!” he yelled. “What did I say about the chocolate?” Ada chided you. You laughed. “I couldn’t help it Ada,” you defended yourself. “He’s too adorable to not spoil.” In the background, you heard Karl laugh loudly. “You can’t have any Uncle Arthur, it’s for me!” You chuckled and shook your head, looking down at the floor in mock exasperation. The Arrow House would be nothing without the echoes of Karl’s screams bouncing around the walls from time to time. Even Thomas seemed to brighten up a bit more whenever Karl and Ada visited. You supposed it was because his nephew reminded him of his own son that he barely got to see. At the thought of Charlie, you looked up to Ada. “When are Charlie and Grace showing up?” Ada shrugged. “They should be here in a couple of minutes. Why don’t we head to the living room? Tommy bought a shit ton of food for Charlie so we might be able to steal a bit.” _______________________________________________________________________________________ You and Ada made your way into the living room and smiled at the exquisite birthday decorations. There were balloons of every color bunched up every couple of feet around the room, a large birthday banner hanging proud and true on the wall across from the fireplace. “Hello, Y/N. Ada,” Tom said from where he sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees. You smiled at him. “Thomas.” Tom smirked slightly- which was a fucking bright-ass grin when it came to Thomas. “We’ve been over the ‘Thomas’ shit, Y/n/n,” he said, quirking his brow. You chuckled. “We have,” you said. “Tom. ‘S just fun to be all fucking formal.” Tom pat the spot on the couch next to him while Ada left your side, sensing that you two wanted some

time alone. You walked over to Tom and sat next to him. “You excited?” Thomas nodded, his blue eyes brightening slightly. “I hardly get to see Charles anymore. You bet your ass I’m spoiling me boy when he’s here,” he joked. You laughed. “I’m sure Charlie’s going to like all of this,” you gestured to the decorations around you. “Oh! Before I forget! Where should I put this?” You reached into your purse and pulled out a folded mancala board that Charlie had begged you for the last time he visited. Thomas smiled and took the board from you, leaning down and sliding it under the couch. “We’re going to open presents after cake, so just remember to pick it back up.” From there, you and Thomas began to talk about the family business. Unlike with Grace, Thomas found himself consulting you on many decisions that he made. You weren’t directly involved but your advice was greatly appreciated by the family. Especially since Thomas wanted to get into politics- a field that you knew well because your father ran for MP multiple times before his death- your advice on what not to do gave him valuable insight on how to maintain a favorable public image. “I know your past is something that can’t be erased,” you said in response to Tom’s concerns about the subject. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be hidden. Or at least left ambiguous enough that people can’t ask the right questions. You keep the public from asking the right questions, and you make sure they can never find the answers.” “It’s a bit unnerving that you know this,” Tom noted, a smirk on his face. In truth, he was impressed. Your knowledge of politics was quite extensive considering your father tried to keep you away from it for most of your life. But you knew how to eavesdrop and read gossip, and so you gained a wealth of knowledge about politics. You laughed. “You’re acting like you don’t already know this.” Thomas took a drag of his cigarette and chuckled. “You got me there.” Your conversation was interrupted by the distinct shrill of the doorbell. Tom perked up and smiled. “Charles is here!” He practically jumped up from his seat on the couch and made his way to the hall. You followed him to the hall, beckoning Karl, Ada, and Arthur- who had been quietly eating food in the corner, thinking Tom hadn’t noticed- to come with you. You and the group walked into the hall to the sight of Thomas laughing and picking up Charlie in his arms and bouncing him up and down, making his son giggle. “Happy birthday Charlie!” you exclaimed, clapping. Arthur, Karl, Ada- and John and Polly, who had been talking in the hall after you arrived- clapped and joined in wishing Charlie a happy birthday. Charlie and Karl shared a hug that resulted in you awing. You looked at Grace and smiled. “Welcome, Grace,” you greeted her respectfully. Grace simply nodded at you and took off her coat. Turning around to put her coat on the coat hooks next to the door, she gasped lightly in shock when she saw your coat resting next to Tom’s. “Whose coat is this?” she asked casually. You apologized profusely. “It’s mine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose. I can find a different place for it-” Thomas waved his hand nonchalantly. “Oh, no need. You’re not imposing, Y/n/n.” You blushed slightly. “Frances can take your coat, Grace. I trust you remember who she is?” He jabbed at her lightly. Grace huffed and nodded. “Alright.” The tension between Tom and Grace was palpable and made everyone make excuses to leave the room. You left as well, saying something about wanting to play around with Karl and Charlie. You knew things were bad between Thomas and Grace. So bad, in fact, that Tom had approached her with a divorce. Tom was many things, but he wasn’t the type of person to reach for a divorce. He believed that marriage lasted for life. But after Tom’s and Grace’s arguments over his ambitions and dreams started to grow from skirmishes to screaming matches littered with threats, Thomas had enough. He told you the night that he decided to divorce Grace that he didn’t want to spend his life with a woman

that didn’t support his political and business ambitions. You found yourself sympathizing with both of them. You understood Grace’s concerns about the target that would always be on her and Charlie’s back because of Thomas’s ambition. But you also understood Thomas’s argument that his ambitions were also the thing that would provide his family with more opportunities than he had. Thomas’s goals were a double-edged sword. Although, Grace had become quite cold to Thomas in retaliation for the divorce, often sending him and his family veiled insults. So you didn’t feel much remorse for her when Tom made barbed comments like the one made in the hall. You sighed while watching Karl and Charlie play. It was going to be a long party. _______________________________________________________________________________________ All of you were eating cake, you talking with Polly about some gossip that you heard when going shopping for groceries. “Apparently Brandon was just using her for her status,” you said, licking the frosting off of your fork. “But then Brandon caught Melissa sleeping with her boss-” “No fucking way!” Polly interrupted, putting her plate down and gasping. “How the hell do these things happen to people!” You laughed. “I know right! My life is boring in comparison- and I hang out with you insane idiots!” “Hey!” John said from across the table, his mouth full of cake. “We’re not that bad!” “Speak for yourself,” Ada muttered from next to her brother, cringing when John stuck his cake-covered tongue out at her. “Honestly, Y/N,” Grace’s refined voice reverberated through the dining room, “You shouldn’t be gossiping this much. It’s a boring pastime.” You quirked your brow. “I’m sorry?” “Oh it’s alright, I understand that some people have nothing better to talk about. I’m just saying, gossip signals a bland personality and I’m sure you don’t have that, hm?” Grace’s implied message was clear. You sat in silence for a moment, surprised. “No?” you said, going along with whatever Grace said. In all honesty, you didn’t care what Grace thought of you. She barely visited enough for you to give a shit. But apparently, Tom didn’t want to let it slide. “Look, Grace, it’s not a big deal to gossip, alright? You’d be a big fucking hypocrite telling Y/n/n not to gossip when pretty much everything you talked about was who was fuckin’ who-” “Thomas!” Grace chided. “What? If you’re going to walk in here and criticize how Y/n/n spends their time, you can fuck off, alright? I don’t need some posh stuck-up woman in me house. So either behave yourself and let Charlie have a good birthday,” Thomas threatened, “Or get out of me house and have fun on the streets for a week.” “You’d let your own son live on the streets for a week?” Grace asked, shocked. “My threat regards only you. Charles is me blood- you make me see blood.” Grace looked down at her plate and picked up her fork and ate her cake again. Tom took that as an agreement to get along with everyone and started eating again as well. You were just thankful that you had sent Karl and Charlie to play upstairs. But regardless of the tense situation, a smile graced your face at the immediacy that Tom defended you with. _______________________________________________________________________________________ “Hey,” you tapped Thomas’s shoulder when you both found yourselves alone in the back room. “Thank you for defending me.” Tom nodded and smiled slightly. “Of course.” “I mean it. No one really defends me so I really appreciate it. Especially since it’s Grace.” Tommy’s brows raised slightly at that comment. “What do you mean?” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at Tom. “I mean, she was the woman that made you the person you used to be before France. I understand there’s some bad blood between you two now, but she’s still special to you.” Tom hummed and walked closer to you, stopping at around 2 feet away from you. “So are you, you know. You’re special to me.” You smiled. “You’re special to me, too.” Thomas’s hand cupped your cheek lightly, his thumb stroking

back and forth. A flush made its way to your cheeks and you smiled shyly at Tom. There was always some unspoken bond between the two of you that you danced around. You were always scared that it was too early after his divorce, but with the way that he was looking at you, he probably got over it a while ago. You don’t know who leaned forward first, but one second later your mouths were connected in a feverish kiss. Tom’s hands were traveling places, touching parts of your body that you caught him eyeing from time to time. Your hands rested against his chest and reveled in the feeling of his heart thumping against his chest as erratically as yours. So you had the same effect on him as he did on you. The kiss was a good indicator of that, but it was nice to have reassurance. Tom pulled away and rested his forehead on yours. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for months now,” Tom confessed. You smiled, pecking him on the lips. “So have I,” you replied, pulling his mouth back to yours.

[one-hell-of-otaku-is-here]

How many shots it would take for me to sleep with TSH characters

I saw this trend on TikTok (twice only but still) so it’s time to make my own content here

Richard - 0 or half the bottle - for me it’d take no alcohol at all to hook up i love this man but for Richard himself?? I am not sure I’d be his type but I am sure with enough alcohol in his system (or drugs) he’d sleep with anybody (we’ve seen that little one night stand he had in book soo ya). If we were friends before this it’d be very awkward the next day for us (no regrets for me. I think he’s a very good lover)

Henry - 0. I’d sleep with this man either sober or drunk (preferably drunk for our first time I bet he’d be more rough when drunk). He’d be hardest to seduce to it thou so I can only dream. I don’t mind glasses on him but during it I’d take them off (lemme see those eyes more clearly >.<)

Francis - 0. the first time I ever wished to be a man so he could sleep with me. Prob the best man to have sex with out of everyone on the list. Drunk or sober doesn’t matter I am on my knees already for him (could i convince him to try it with me with dildo?? If he’s very drunk prob)

Charles - 10 shots of vodka… and more. I’d like to say I would never let him sleep with me but he’s canonically ikemen af and I do like blondes. I’d have to drunk up to my ass to not think about everything he did… Honestly he’s still pretty much siscon but at the end of the day there would be no problem to convince him to have sex with enough wine in his system - the easiest to get into bed with (along with Richard ofc)

Camilla - 1-3. YES TO MY QUEEN. Buut tbh there are two conditions - being on my second or third drink and for her to initiate things to progress beyond just simple bestie hang out. I am not into women but with these two conditions I’d be easy to be convinced (well I mean look at her)

Bunny - Nope. The moment Bunny opens his mouth and says even something remotely insulting about my body (which is not slim to be honest) or too chubby face he’s out. I’d have to be wasted to the point of not knowing who I am doing it with for this to even happen (I still don’t understand what Marion saw in him, the guy is clearly secretly closeted in his questionable sexuality)

Bonus:

Julian - ABSOLUTELY NOT ANY. NO! I have no problem with age gap but honestly this man had done enough damage to be a huge turn off. I’d not even sit down to drink with him. The most experienced out of all here (with both genders) and tbh had to admit he’d be good and go for it once you strike his fancy… and then run away if things start to get problematic for him (that affair with princess… probably even with Henry Winter himself). How good for me I never studied classics

[justfandomtings]

I really like how despite murderface and Nathan having the least chemistry they seem to have pretty good conversations and choose to spend time together when hanging out.

Like during Seth's wedding, they just hang out together. Like when that old dude was asking them a lot of annoying questions. They just suffer together. (Like murderface could've just left since he was mostly talking to Nathan. But he just stood there with him, even helping Nathan find a reason to get out of the conversation.)

And when pickles beats the shit out of Seth they just enjoy the moment together.

And on a even more rare occasion they and the others laugh at Pickles situation. Which is interesting since Nathan and murderface both have a real close bond with Pickles. It's funny to see them on the same side.

During tokis roast, they laugh and sit by each other till the comedian goes to far throwing racist insults.

I like in deathvanity Nathan knows murderface so well that he immediately knows the 'boy' murderface is talking about is him. And he knows about all of murderface's insecurities.

I like how even though Nathan has the least patience with murderface. He seems to bite his tounge when he isn't being too terrible. Like when he's looking for a girlfriend and all the boys are interfering with his love life. Murderface is comfortable and fucking bold enough to lay in a bed with a naked Nathan and random girl.

I like that one scene when murderface begs Nathan to get him a sandscape. Murderface is comfortable enough around Nathan to put his arm around him and get close knowing full well Nathan can kick his ass.

Also another example of them being comfortable with each other. In the ikea video, when Nathan tires to talk to murderface about his terrible taste in things. He tries to do it gently and puts his hand on his shoulder.

I like how Nathan seems to be the hardest on murderface when compared to toki he's nice and concerned. But with murderface he's stern but it's like coming from a place that is what's best for him. Since he still has been gentle with him time from time.

I like how even tho Nathan constantly reminds murderface that he's a failure. He always talks about the planning and technical side. Due to his lack of focus, but never really says that murderface has bad ideas and isn't creative. (It's like he's giving him a reality check or trying to get him to understand why he always fails. Like, maybe Nathan knows the potential murderface holds, but understands that murderface is ungodly lazy.)

I like the strong respect murderface has for Nathan. Even when he calls him a failure or calls him out on his bullshit he doesn't deny that he's wrong. Like when he said "Dammit toki I'll take that shit from Nathan but not from you." In tribute klok.

And. "Fuck you pickles." While making the bet with Skwisgaar. Even though pickles was trying to reassure him and Nathan was just laughing.

He values Nathan's opinion even when it's to tear down his character. Because he knows it's true.

I like how hard murderface stands up for Nathan. Like when Nathan got that defrebulator and asked to use it on murderface. Charles was trying to protect murderface from getting hurt, even killed. But murderface tells him to fuck off and tells Nathan to not let Charles control you.

I like how Nathan amuses murderface sometimes. Like when he listened to two songs murderface created. 'Titty fish' n 'taken it easy'. Nathan never really tells him it's shit despite knowing it is. He just let's murderface be murderface.

I like how Nathan keeps his promises to murderface. When he watched him play the national anthem with his cock on live TV. Even when pickles says it's gross, he doesn't disagree but says he promised him he'd watch it.

I like how Nathan felt so bad when he almost killed murderface he willingly lost time he'll never get back to come with murderface on his religion adventure. Even making the band join them.

I like how Nathan seems to be the only one to really put murderface in his place. I mean the other boys could beat his ass or humiliate him but murderface will be right back at talking smack. When it comes to Nathan, murderface may do a silent protest here and there but always listens.

Their relationship isn't as 'special' as murderface/toki or pickles/Nathan, hell, even Skwisgaar/Nathan.

But it's not supposed to be, non of their relationships are the same and that what makes these characters studies great. They all offer something, even though murderface&Nathan aren't together much there's still something there.

(I just like these two, it seems people don't give this duo much attention. But there's a lot here like with all the other relationships in the show.

I'm noticing a trend that most of this relationship studies involve murderface. Guess pretty soon I'll do murderface and Skwisgaar/ murderface and Charles one day.)

[kimoralov3]

Hello, Old Friend

Requested by: @nuclearpizza84

Word Count: 2449

Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr x gn!black!mutant!reader

espèce d'imbécile = idiot in french according to google translate

Warnings: swearing, talks of attempted murder, mention of racial slurs

Charles’ POV

“Who’s the next person on our list?” Erik asked as he sat in one of the chairs, propping his feet up on my desk. I pushed his feet off of my desk then picked up the notebook filled with mutants we could possibly recruit.

“Someone by the name of (Y/N) (Y/LN). They live in Atlanta, Georgia, and as of now it doesn't seem as if they have a job."

"(Y/N)? I used to know someone with that name. Do you have a guess as to what their mutation may be?" Erik sat up straighter in the chair. Oh, now he's interested now that this person has the same name as an old friend of his?

"No I don't, but I guess we shall find out soon. If we want to make it there and back before midday tomorrow, we should leave in the next 30 minutes." Erik nodded and stood up, walking towards the door. "What if this person happens to be your old friend?"

"If this is the same (Y/N) as the one I know, they'll need a lot more convincing than us being in the same boat as them. They're quite stubborn in that way." Erik said as he stopped and turned to face me.

"Like you?" I asked as I titled my head to the side slightly. Erik glared at me before exiting the room, not bothering shutting the door behind him. There was definitely something else going on between Erik and his supposed old friend.

----

Erik's POV

I stepped out of the car, buttoning up my coat as I took in my surroundings. We had taken a taxi to a small town, not too far from Atlanta. There was a corner store across from us, some restaurants down the street, and a combined book/coffee shop. Of course you would run away here. It's the perfect place to escape from your past. 

"Well, it certainly is quite lovely here. According to Cerebro, (Y/N) comes here every other week to get some more books for the orphanage across town. Very nice of them." Charles said as he made his way towards the book/coffee shop. I followed him, taking one last look at the street before stepping inside.

One half of the shop was filled with floor to ceiling bookshelves, all marked with whatever genre of book filled the shelves. If we were to walk about a foot forward, we'd be standing directly in front of the white and grey display case. There was a counter attached where the coffee machine sat. The back of other side of the shop was filled with bean bag chairs and pillows, while the front is where the tables and chairs sat. 

"Welcome gentlemen, would you like a cup of- Erik?" A voice said as they came from the back. I turned my attention towards the owner of the voice and smiled.

"Hello, (Y/N). How have you been?"

"Wow, he wasn't lying, he actually has friends. I'm impressed." Charles said with a hint of mockery in his tone.

"Erik, what are you doing here? I thought we agreed to never look for each other again." (Y/N) asked as they walked around the counter to stand in front of us.

"Well that was then, and this is now. We need your help." I said. They haven't changed a bit. 

"Oh, I've heard that before. You can fuck off Erik, I'm never helping you again." They said as they glared up at me. You always did look cute when you were upset.

"I don't know what the history between the two of you is, but he's not asking for your help. I am. In return I'm offering to help you control your mutation. If we could sit down I could explain everything further." Charles said as he looked between the two of us.

"Mutation? What are you talking about, I don't have any type of mutation. And who even are you?" (Y/N) asked as they finally turned their attention towards Charles, giving him a once over.

"I'm Charles Xavier. You see, the three of us all have a gene- well, a mutated gene- that gives us specific abilities. I'm a telepath, and Erik can control metal." 

"You're crazy. The whole time Erik and I worked together, he never showed signs of having any special 'abilities'. Other than being an asshole." (Y/N)'s lips curled into a slight smirk at the insult.

"It's not my fault you kept getting in the way." I said.

"You pushed me off a fucking train, Erik. I think it's safe to say that that wasn't my fault."

"You're the one who wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. I told you to stay in the train and wait for me, but you just couldn't follow directions." 

"So you decided that the safest bet was to push me off a moving train?"

"Exactly."

"Erik, you're not helping. (Y/N), I understand that you probably don't trust Erik, but you can trust me. If anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility. So what do you say?"

(Y/N) took a deep breath, looking between the two of us. I was beginning to think that they'd say no and kick us out, but they finally came to a decision. "Fine, I'll help. As long as Erik doesn't double cross me. Again."

Charles looked at me expectedly, making me roll my eyes. Please, we need all the help we can get. Charles communicated to me telepathically. "Fine, I won't double cross you."

"Excellent! (Y/N,) let's take a taxi to your place so you can gather some of your things. On the way, I can tell you all about my research and what exactly it is we're doing here. I'm sure you'll find it all very interesting." Charles said as he led (Y/N) out of the shop. 

"You coming, espèce d'imbécile?" (Y/N) asked as they got in the taxi. I snapped out of whatever trance I was in and got in the taxi.

----

(Y/N)'s POV

Charles had spent both taxi rides and most of the plane ride explaining his findings about mutants. To be honest, I didn't understand most of it, but he seemed excited to share this information with someone new, so I wasn't going to stop him. All I knew was that I had another reason for people to call me a freak. Once the plane landed, Charles drove us to his house- excuse me, I mean mansion. "Well shit. You lived here by yourself?" I asked as I got out of the car. 

"Well, not entirely. I have a sister named Raven, you'll meet her soon." Charles said as we walked inside. I can't believe I'm in a fucking mansion. If only my parents could see me now. 

"Oh good, you're back! Hello there, I'm Raven." The blond girl said as she smiled brightly and ran over to me and gave me a hug. I was shocked for a second, but I quickly hugged her back. Is this usually how people greet each other?

"I'm (Y/N), it's nice to meet you. You're Charles' sister, right?" I asked as she pulled away. She nodded and turned to Charles. 

"The boys are sitting in the kitchen. Can you take (Y/N)'s stuff to their room while I introduce them to everyone else?" She asked him. He nodded and grabbed my suitcases, walking somewhere down the hall. She then turned to Erik. "Are the two of you getting along well?"

Erik scoffed. "Me and Charles or me and (Y/N)? Because me and Charles are getting along swimmingly, but (Y/N) is being a bit dramatic if you ask me."

"Says the man who spent 30 minutes crying because he lost track of some stupid guy." I shot back quickly. Erik's jaw clenched as he gave me a once over, then walked in the same direction that Charles went.

"Well that was rude of him. Anyway, come on, let's go meet the rest of the boys." She said as she grabbed my hand and tugged me towards the kitchen. One boy was standing in front of the sink with a beer in his hand, another one with glasses sitting at the table with a bunch of files in front of him, and a messy brown haired boy digging through the fridge. "Boys, we have a new friend. Introduce yourselves please."

"Alex." The boy with the beer said.

The boy rummaging through the fridge stood up, holding a bottle of water in one hand and waving at me with the other. "I'm Seth."

"I'm Hank, nice to meet you." He gave me an awkward smile.

"(Y/N), nice to meet you all." 

"So, what are your special abilities?" Alex asked as he threw the bottle in the trash.

"Anatomy manipulation. You?" They all looked at me like I was crazy. Did I say something wrong?

"A-Anatomy manipulation? That's a pretty violent thing." Hank said as he pushed his glasses to sit correctly on his nose.

"Yeah, it can get pretty ugly. That's why I don't really like to use them. Hurting people isn't really my style."

"I learned that the hard way." Erik's voice came from behind us. I swear this man gets on my fucking nerves.

"Hey Erik. Did you need something?" Raven asked as she turned around to face him. She is definitely interested in him. 

"I would like to speak to (Y/N) in my room."

"Why would I go anywhere with you. You gonna try and kill me again or something?"

"I promised not to, remember? Now come with me." He grabbed my hand and dragged me to his room, closing the door behind us and locking it. First of all, that's creepy. Second of all he could've given me a chance to walk without him dragging me along like I'm some child.

"What do you want, Erik?" I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I want to apologize. For being an ass. And for anything else I might have done that caused you pain. Will you forgive me?" He said. His words were rushed, he stumbled a little and he seemed out of breath. He must not be used to having to apologize for his actions. Typical.

I stared at him for a moment, switching my focus between his eyes before speaking. "Well I'm not going to say that I forgive you, but I'm glad that you decided to apologize. What made you want to do that?"

"Charles helped me see something that I couldn't see before. Although there's something I need to do to prove his theory."

"And what's that? Be nice to everyone for a day? Well good luck with that because the day that you're nice to people is the day that hell freezes over." 

"Has anyone ever told you that you make things extremely difficult?" Erik asked as he looked down at you. Why did he have to be so tall? 

"No, but then again I've never had to work with someone as stubborn as you."

"Oh I'm the stubborn one? Aren't you the one who refused to leave a bar until the bartender apologized for calling you that horrid word? Then when he finally did mutter out a half assed apology, you still wouldn't leave? Or am I just remembering things incorrectly?" Erik stated, his smile growing bigger at each sentence. I chuckled and shook my head.

"You see, that was different. He called us both slurs, and I wasn't just going to let him get away with that. Plus you know you enjoyed it, you sat there laughing the whole time." I said as I poked him in his chest. 

"I always did love the way you would stand up for what you thought was right." 

"Oh, so you don't hate me? Well there's a shock. You are full of surprises today, aren't you?"

"Why would I hate you? You're the closest thing to a friend I have at the moment."

"If I'm the closest thing you have to a friend, you seriously need to work on your social skills."

"Yeah, Charles said the same thing. Just a lot more complicated, honestly I stopped listening about a minute in. He tends to take the long way of explaining things."

"I think he's just excited to be with other people. He's been alone in this big house with only one other person to talk to. I'd be happy to be around other people too."

"That's fair. So what have you been up to since the last time we talked?" Erik asked as he sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to him. I sat down and smiled at him.

"You mean since the last time you tried to kill me? Nothing much really. As you see I moved to Atlanta, and I was working at a coffee/book shop. Sometimes I babysit the owner's kids while she goes away for work, and when I'm not at work, I volunteer at the orphanage. Pretty boring stuff if you ask me. How about you? Still chasing after Shaw?" I ask as I look up at him. 

"Of course, he has to pay for what he's done. This is the closest I've gotten to catching him."

"I understand. But what are you gonna do once you finally kill him? Are you gonna move away again?"

"No, I don't think I will. I think I might stay here and help Charles with his plan- even though it sounds utterly insane."

"What plan?" 

"He wants to turn this place into a school for people like us- his preferred term is mutant. He wants to help other people in the way that we never had help."

"That's actually very kind of him." Charles does seem like the kind of guy to put others before himself.

"Yeah, I guess. You should stay too, you've always been more of a people person than I."

"Maybe I will. It'd give me more time to annoy the hell out of you." I said as I nudged his shoulder. He chuckled and nudged me back.

"It's getting late, you should head to bed. It's been a long day." Erik said as he helped me off the bed.

"Yeah, I am getting pretty tired. Thanks for the trip down memory lane."

"Any time. Goodnight (Y/N)." He leaned down and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. I smiled and waved as I walked away, in search of my new room. Maybe Erik Lehnsherr does have a heart under all those steel walls after all.

[kerie-prince]

We're Worlds Apart (2)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: light cursing, mentions of death, angsty Draco

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

(gif not mine)

The surrounding neighbors have been very nice; one elderly couple walked up to Draco’s door with an apple pie, quite the American staple, and he seemed to appreciate it. They seemed normal and sweet. Much unlike the feeling he had for his neighbor. Y/N. He hasn't made any attempts in the month that he's lived in the small suburban neighborhood to see her. He avoided her like she was a deadly plague.

Albeit, it was probably harsh and extremely childish. The whole point of him becoming a new person was changing his views he had been taught in adolescence. Or else why did he help Harry Potter all those years ago when he swore he hated him?

It was currently around 3 in the morning, he was standing in his backyard and made sure no one would be awake as he sent his owl to send a letter to his best friend, Blaise. He was the only person who still contacted Draco on a regular basis besides the occasional letter from Theodore. Gregory cut all contact with Draco after the Battle, especially since Vincent had died that night in the fire in the Room of Requirement. Pansy was living her life somewhere, and although the Golden Trio had forgiven Draco for his actions, it didn't start any friendships. But Draco was fine; Blaise and Theo had been there for him in more ways he cares to admit.

He never mentioned a word about Y/N to Blaise until now when he asked what Draco’s American neighbors were like. Majority of the letter contained contents of how work has been, the differences in not only culture but also how things are called, and just his own well being. He did say something short for the elderly couple, but when it came to Y/N he had a lot to say.

These muggles are far different from the ones in England, Blaise. They know things about the magic world but input a fantasy in their heads. They believe they can actually practice witchcraft and wizardry, calling themselves “Wiccan” or whatever rubbish it is. Bloody hell, they even have films and tv programs of them. My neighbor is one of these and she does the most ludacris things in her house. Quite laughable, really. If Salazar was alive today to see this happening, I’d bet he’d curse the whole lot.

She had been lingering in his mind since that day of his discovery. It was annoying him. Every night, he would catch her in her room doing whatever the hell she was doing and he felt as if the universe was mocking him. This is what people think what you really are was the message he got from it all. Draco never thought something like this would make him feel like a freak. But he did. This act of hers was an indirect insult of what he was capable of. And she had no idea.

—

It was a fine autumn morning. The shop was closed today, so you had lots of time at home to catch up with cleaning. You stood over your bathroom sink brushing your teeth and saw from the reflection of your mirror your cat stretching herself before walking into the bathroom to rub herself on your legs. “Good morning, Aurora,” you cooed at her. She purred in response and ran off to her tower in the living room.

After getting changed into some comfortable clothes, you walked up to a closet in the hallway that had collections of crystals, oils, sage bundles and more. “Let’s see, where did I put the angelica root?” you asked out loud to yourself. Going through the shelves, you pulled some sea salt, ground lemon balm, ground angelica root, and a feather. You carried the items outside in a bowl to your backyard and set them at a small garden table. Walking over to your garden, you pulled some elderberry flowers and started your cleansing spell.

You sprinkled the salt onto a censor dish and placed a charcoal dish on it and lit it up. In the bowl you had used to carry the items out, you started mixing the herbs together as you waited for the charcoal to burn red. Once it did, you sprinkled the herbs on top, creating a cleansing incense. You picked it up from the bottom of the censor dish, picked up the feather and made your way steadily to your front door, lightly wafting smoke towards it. Reaching your front door, you drew a pentagram over it with the feather and smoke,

“Be gone negativity,

Here now blessed be.”

You repeat your incantations throughout the house until you have finished and walked back to your living room, drawing one last pentagram. You placed your feather and censor dish on the bare floor, stood up and tapped your foot three times,

“By my will, so shall it be.

Sealed now shall this cleansing be.”

You sat on your couch and turned on the television, waiting for the incense to burn out so you could scatter it around your backyard. After a couple of hours of watching a guilty pleasure of yours, you decided to get some actual cleaning done. First thing was to do some trimming and gardening outside, so you grabbed some gloves and headed out back to your yard.

Before grabbing your garden scissors, you looked up and saw something rather strange. There was an owl in your neighbors yard. In broad daylight. From the backyard, you heard a car pull in and peeked over the fence to see that it was your neighbor coming home. You ran to the front leaving a dirt trail in your house and ran out the front door.

He hadn’t walked in yet, so you started waving your arm, “Hello! I’m Y/N!”

He had just nodded his head and walked a straight line to his door. Not wanting to lose this chance of having a conversation with him, you yelled for him one more time, “There’s an owl in your yard!” His eyes widened and without a word, he ran into his house in a panic. From a distance, you heard him say 'shit' before closing the door.

Building up confidence, you walked up to his door and knocked a few times and patiently waited. You fixed your hair and stood surprised as he hastily opened the door. “H-hi! It’s so nice to meet you, I'm Y/N,” you stretched your hand out to shake his hand. He looked at it and had a displeased look, causing unease within you. Looking at your hand, you noticed you still had your gardening gloves on with dirt on it.

“Oops, sorry!” you chuckled as you took it off and reached out again.

Again, he just looked at you with a straight face for a couple of seconds before finally speaking, “Look, I’m really busy, so if you don't mind.” He shut the door without giving you any chance to say anything back. You stood there in shock, replaying his British voice in your head. And as you stood there, you wondered why it is that he doesn't want to talk to you. The Charles couple across from your house were able to introduce themselves, and even got a smile from him. But for some reason, you could never get the same treatment.

—

Ian had proposed to Draco a housewarming party during lunch. Of course Draco had never been to one, much less hosted one.

“It’s alright, boss. I can fix all the arrangements up. All you gotta do is relax,” Ashley proposed. To say that Draco is extremely happy is an understatement. He had friends that actually enjoyed his company and not his influence. Not that he had much of that anyway.

America was really working out for him; work was great, people were nice, and the area he lived in was peaceful. Yes, he didn't like his neighbor, but she wasn't ruining his life in this new country. He just didn't like what she did.

“Thank you, Ashley. And you know you can just call me ‘Draco’.”

“I know,” she replied. Ashley grabbed her Blackberry phone and started drafting up an email, asking for his address so she could let people know where it would be. “Is this Friday a good time?”

“Yes, that should be fine. I don't have any plans that day.”

“Great, it's sent out to everyone in our department. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an attending to watch over for a surgery. See you guys later!” Draco, Blaine and Ian waved at Ashley as she left.

Blaine left soon after, leaving Ian with Draco. “Alright man, how’s it going on your street? Are you finally settled in?”

“I finally got the last of my things delivered from London yesterday. I was a bit nervous though. That mugg— I mean No-Maj neighbor of mine saw my mum’s owl in my yard. Thankfully, she didn't ask any questions,” Draco said as he cleared his lunch tray.

“Wait, you still use an owl? Ha, I didn’t think people still did,” Ian chuckled. “Well, of course I do. Do you not?”

“No, most wizards here in the States just use the usual ground post that No-Maj’s use. Things are a bit more modern around here. Speaking of your neighbor actually, have you ever spoken to her?”

Draco shrugged nonchalantly and said a simple ‘No’ when he really wanted to scrunch his nose and eyebrows in disgust and say ‘Fuck no.’ Ian, however, is gifted in Legilimens. He heard what Draco really meant but kept to himself. I guess things are different in the UK he thought.

—

“Hello my dear baby, I just wanted to call and give you a heads up; your brother and I are coming for Thanksgiving. He’s bringing Stephanie so do me a favor, please no witchy stuff.”

The voicemail played out loud in the kitchen. Please no witchy stuff. Your mother had repeatedly explained to you that she was okay with ‘it’ all, but growing up you never really got on the same page with her. And you knew it was because of your practice. Your younger brother would say comments every now and then when you grew up, but he always stood up for you when other people called you a ‘satanic freak’. But never once did you regret starting the Craft. You enjoyed it and it made you feel whole.

It had been a week since your encounter with your, now known British, neighbor. It bothered you a lot that he didn’t seem to want to get to know you. You were lost in your thoughts that you almost didn’t notice the doorbell going off. You answered the door and saw your neighbor.

“Hi dear, do you think you could help me and my husband with something?” Mrs. Charles smiled sweetly at you. “Of course, what can I do for you?”

“My grandson is coming in from Vermont, would it be alright if you could give us a ride to the airport? I’d ask Draco but he’s always busy at work and I don’t want to be a bother.”

Draco? “I’m sorry, who’s that?” you had a confused look.

“Our new neighbor, dear. I thought you had met him already. You two are the same age after all,” she informed you. Draco. How unique. You instantly recognized the name from the star constellation. It was nice to finally put a name to a face. Distracted again, Mrs. Charles waited for your answer, “Y/N? Can you do it?”

“O-oh, sorry. Of course I’ll help. Frankie was his name, correct?”

“Yes, it’s Frankie. Thank you so much. His flight comes in on Friday. I’ll see you then,” you wished her a good night and looked out your window to make sure she crossed the street safely. The rest of the night consisted of you and and your cat laying on your couch watching TV, but what was on the screen didn’t have your attention. Draco did. And you had no idea why.

—

“Dude, why do you not have a TV?” Blaine looked around Draco’s house and studied the arrangements he had. It was quite plain, almost minimalistic. Looking around, Draco couldn’t help but think how different it was from the Manor back in London. Instead of grand chandeliers, moving portraits of the Malfoy’s before him, and intricate designs on the walls, he had simple white walls with just one moving picture of him, Blaise and Theo a couple minutes before a Quidditch game against Ravenclaw. He had a bookshelf full of old school books from Hogwarts and some small relics he liked from the Manor.

“I’ve never had one growing up, and once I moved here I just never gave any second thought of it. Besides, what would I even watch?” Draco replied. Despite having one letter off from being the same name as his best friend, Blaine reminded Draco of Theo. They were both funny and outspoken. He would’ve loved for them to have met. They’d probably get on.

A few moments later, Ashley and Ian knocked on Draco’s door. The door was unlocked for them to be able to open the door. They looked around the living room before settling onto the couches. ��Okay so I was thinking that we can just have some trays of snacks and desserts with some champagne. Does that sound good to you guys?” Ashley suggested. They just nodded along to whatever she said. She had gone to the store with Blaine to get everything prepared before the party tonight.

Ian looked at the pictures of Draco with his friends and one of his mother that laid on top of a chimney. “Do you still have lots of friends from Hogwarts?”

Draco thought about it, “You know, I actually didn’t have a lot of friends back in school. Back then, I only hung out with probably six people. But now it’s just two.” He sounded a bit sad, but figured that two were better than none.

“Do you think of what happened a lot?” Ian implied about that day at Hogwarts. He had been the only one that Draco trusted enough to tell. “Sometimes,” Draco gave a short reply. The action of opening up was still new to him, but he knew he shouldn’t wallow in it. Plus he’d rather have a friend instead of a doctor to talk about it.

Ian really felt bad for Draco. It must have been really traumatizing for someone to go through something like that at just the age of 17. Sure, Draco wasn’t the best person at the time. Who is he kidding, he was probably the biggest git in the whole school. It didn’t necessarily mean that he had to go through what he did. He lost one of his friends in a fire, and one left him after said friend died. Another left for no apparent reason. And another wanted something different in her life. Those things affected Draco, and probably will for the rest of his life.

He didn’t pity Draco, but was feeling sympathetic. “Well if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have much friends from Ilvermorny. It sucks now, but hey, down the line you get new ones.” Ian held a fisted hand out, waiting for Draco to bump it. It made him laugh as he bumped Ian’s fist.

Outside, Ian looked out to see a certain neighbor walk to her car. “Hey, is that that chick you were talking about?” Draco looked out the window and saw you grab some things out of your trunk and into your house. “Yeah, that’s her.” Ian never really pressed on Draco to explain why he didn’t like his No-Maj neighbor like he did the elderly couple across the street.

“Well, I gotta say. She’s a sight for sore eyes for a weirdo.” She’s a what? Beyond the nightly activities he had caught you doing on occasion in your bedroom, he never really looked at your face. Or really just at you. But now that Ian mentioned something, he started studying you. She’s not so bad looking— wait, what are you thinking?

By accident, Ian snorted at the words Draco thought. “Did… did I say that out loud?” Draco asked with suspicion in his voice. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t really mean to be invading your mind or anything. It runs in my family,” Ian laughed nervously.

“It’s okay. My godfather was also good at Legilimens and Occlumency. I’m pretty sure he’s heard worse during his classes. Come on, I’ll give you a full tour of the place.”

“If the other rooms are anything like the living room, I’m sure I’ve seen the whole place then,” Ian joked.

“Piss off.” As Ian walked towards the bathroom, Draco looked back outside to see you again. He watched as you helped the Charles couple in your car and drove off to Merlin knows where.

—

The party was rather fun. It lasted until almost 1 in the morning. He thanked Ashley for handling everything and spent the night talking and laughing with his colleagues. Once everyone left, he changed into comfortable sweats and a plain black t-shirt. Out on his bedroom window was Blaise’s owl with a sealed letter. He quickly opened the window, grabbed the letter and looked out to make sure no one was watching. Your room was dark and it seemed as the drapes were down. He guided his friends’ owl with his hands to a small, make-shift owl post against the fence that separated your yards. It had food and was enchanted to be at a comfortable temperature. His owl laid on one side of the post, resting as Blaise’s owl joined it.

Draco opened the letter and read its contents to himself.

Well mate, I’m glad you’re having a good time in America. There’s not much going on here in London. I’m just working at Gringotts until something opens up at the Ministry. Not really sure what I want to do, but I’ll figure it out. Anyways, I think you’ll be pleased to hear that Theo and I are going to be joining you for the holidays. Theo got a hold of a couple American muggle films and he figured that if the women there were as fit as the actresses, then you must be living the best life and he wants to join. As for that muggle neighbor of yours, I can’t wait to see her in person. We’ll see you, Malfoy.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw lights turn on in your room and your shadow walk around before turning off once more. Sorry Blaise, but there’s no way in hell you’ll meet her.

—

Frankie’s flight was delayed, causing you to get home so late. You were extremely tired and your feet and back were sore. Usually, you’d take a bath with some salts and oils to relax yourself, but tonight you were really lazy. So lazy that you just shook your shoes off and plopped yourself on the bed.

The second you hit the mattress, you dozed off. Your mind was wandering and found yourself dreaming.

You sat in your backyard in a pretty sundress. There was a slight breeze in the air and you held a cup of coffee in your hands. Someone sat at the chair opposite you and blocked the sun’s light in your face. You looked next to you and saw your friend smiling at you.

Draco.

—

next chp

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[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

time for another goofass take it easy nonsense fic chapter! you like ghouls and demons and weird family dynamics? come on in and have some fun! this is set in my BJ Deetz au, so Beetlejuice is a teen, adopted by the Deetz family. There, you're all set, go read.

There’s a moment where they’re all staring at each other, siblings and their sudden guest all in the know, or at least partially, about secrets the others are holding, and none of them seem sure what their first move should be. Then Emily comes up, and puts her hands on her children’s backs, and leads them to the front door. “Kids, this is your dad’s cousin, Ash. Ash is going to be staying with us for a few days,” she tells them. “Ash, this is BJ, and Lydia.” “Hi,” Lydia squirms. “What’s good?” BJ tries to look casual. Ash, for his part, doesn’t seem inclined to mention the very clear demonstration of magic BJ had pulled in front of him, hardly a few hours ago. “Good to finally, officially, meet you kids,” he says, and then sticks out a hand to shake. BJ takes it, is given a shake, and Ash tilts his head. “You run hot. Feeling sick, BJ?” “Nah, just.. Always a little warm,” the demon pulls his hand back, and Emily smiles. “We’ll have dinner in a bit. Charles always cooks, he’s a great chef. Kids, can you show your uncle to the guest room?” She nudges them, and trapped by social convention and an inability to say no to Emily, BJ huffs, but nods. “Yeah, sure. Follow me, then.”

He’s so used to floating around the house that he has to really remind himself not to lift his legs and just levitate, like he normally does, and the feeling of his body physically trudging up the stairs is almost alien to him. Lydia, weird kid she is, scrambles up the stairs on all fours in front of them, and Ash follows dutifully behind them, as BJ leads him up to the second floor and then down the hall, to the guest room- the room across the hall from his own. He opens the door, gestures to it, and Ash steps in, looks around. “Well, it beats a motel six, that’s for god damn sure,” he says, setting his bag on the bed, and then he turns to look at the kids.

“So. Should we talk?” he quirks a brow. “Up here, where your parents can’t hear?” “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re a creepy kinda uncle,” BJ grimaces. “We’re family. Getchur head outta the gutter, kiddo. Now. That was some disappearing act you two pulled. Never seen anything like it, before.” “What can I say, I love illusions,” BJ tries. “M’gonna be the next Houdini.” “I bet. You wanna share how you did it?” “Magicians don’t reveal their secrets!” Lydia pipes up. The siblings are standing in the doorway, tense, as their newfound relative leans against one of the posters of the antique canopy bed frame. “That was a little more than stage magic. You learn to do that from the book?” Ash asks. BJ blinks. The monster hunter in front of them is still buying that he’s human. Okay.. okay. He can work with that. “Yeah, the book,” he agrees. “Pretty crazy, right?” “I’ve seen that book do wild things, but none of them ever good,” Ash tells them, arms crossed. “It might seem like a fun toy, giving you the ability to do stuff like that, but it’s like a snake, kid. It’s gonna turn on ya. Last thing I want is to have to ruin your daddy’s life by killing his two little treasures, when they get possessed and become deadites.”

BJ’s a little insulted on behalf of snakes, his aspect animal, but he understands the metaphor. Also, “You wouldn’t even hesitate?” he asks, and Ash shrugs. “I’ve taken out a lot of deadites. Once someone’s possessed, they don’t come back from it. No reason to go getting sentimental over who gets latched onto.” There’s a pain behind those hard dark eyes. “Don’t make me shoot the kid,” he nods to Lydia, who tries to match the cool guy vibe. “I’m not a kid, I’m eleven,” she argues, which doesn’t really help her case in the way she thinks it does. BJ puts a hand on her head. “No one’s doin’ anythin’ to Lydster,” he says, a growl in his gravelly voice, and Ash hardly reacts. “I’m tellin’ you, when this goes tits up, and it will, that I will be the one cleaning up the mess. And it’ll get a lot messier before it gets cleaner.” That doesn’t make much sense, but he gets the vibe uncle Ash is going for, at least.

“So if this book is so dangerous, why don’t you destroy it?” “You think I haven’t tried?” He sort of had assumed that, yes. “You can’t burn this thing, or drown it, or bury it. Whatever ancient evil powers it, doesn’t let it be destroyed. It’s humanity’s curse.” “You just sit around, practicin’ these kinda lines, or what?” “Funny. The book, BJ.”

BJ grimaces, but digs into his hoodie pocket, and impossibly, pulls an entire book out. Ash pauses, at that. “Wh-” BJ lifts the book, gives it another huff. The scent is a little addicting, honestly, but he passes it off to Ash, who takes it. “Got pretty cozy with this thing pretty fast,” the older man says. “You know it’s bound in human flesh, right?” Ooooh, that’s why it smells so good. Lydia, at least, has the sense to be disgusted. “Ewww, and I touched it,” she grimaces, and wipes her hands on BJ’s striped hoodie. “Guess th’ ink inside ain’t ink?” he asks, and Ash nods. “Human blood. Sort of cliche, but the ancient Sumerians weren’t askin’ me when they penned the damn thing, I guess.” Ooooh, again. No wonder he couldn’t read it. Ash finally takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and cracks the book open, thumbing through it. “Can you read what it says?” Lydia asks, curious, coming over to peer down at the book in Ash’s lap. “Sure!” and then a pause. “Well, not exactly, one hundred percent, all the way, no,” he admits. “I know a little, though.” “An’ you picked up ancient Sumerian where?” BJ asks, coming to stand behind Lydia. “I wouldn’t say I picked it up,” Ash avoids the question. “Just sort of learned enough through various means. My pronunciation is pretty good. I even remember most of the words.” That doesn’t instil a lot of confidence, but alright.

“Which passage did you read, to learn that teleportation trick?” Ash looks up at him, and BJ grimaces. “Uh, I dunno, it was.. In th’ middle, I think,” he lies, a bit poorly. Ash thumbs through the pages, and then pauses. “Wait, can you read ancient Sumerian?” He asks. BJ rubs at his neck. “I can speak enough Spanish to ask where a library is,” he says, and Ash squints. “Well then how the hell did it give you a weird demon power? You sure it was this book?” “Sure, I’m sure! This is only like, th’ third weird possessed demon book I’ve ever handled, it’s gonna be somethin’ in there that did it,” BJ says. “BJ is totally normal otherwise!” Lydia blurts. Smooth.

Ash closes the book, and stands. “Except that’s not true, is it?” Their uncle asks, studying the demon’s face. “Because in the alleyway, you pushed the power back. I’ve been chased through the woods by that thing, and I didn’t stand a chance. It was going to pounce, grab one of you, and you stopped it, somehow. And the deadite handed the Necronomicon over to you, when it’s goal was getting it away from me.” He takes a menacing step forward. The Deetz siblings take a collective step back. BJ’s got his hands on Lydia’s shoulders, and he maneuvers his kid sister behind him, quickly. “So what’s the deal, kid?” Uncle Ash’s glare is hard, and a little crazy. “Don’t go blowin’ smoke up my ass. I know when I’m being lied to.”

“Not immediately, which is pretty funny,” BJ says, and before they can argue, there’s a scream from downstairs. BJ scoops up Lydia, and Ash scoops up his green canvas duffle bag, and the two of them rush to the stairs, quickly, panic rising in BJ’s chest, because that scream? That’s Emily. you can read the rest right over HERE