#but things need to keep going bc it only gets more intense from here!!!!

[fluentmoviequoter]

Devastation

Requested Here by @newobsessionweekly!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: You leave Tim because he takes out his frustration about a long day on you. The next day, everyone in the station can tell you're both miserable. A surprise calls sends Tim into a devastated spiral as he wonders if what he said was worth it.

Warnings: ANGST, arguments, break up, death, mentions of execution, brief fluff at the end bc Tim deserves a break

Word Count: 3.4k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Los Angeles is seeing an intense spike in crime rates.”

“The Los Angeles Police Department has received more calls today than in the last two months combined.”

“A new, temporary emergency line has been announced. In case of emergency and busy 9-1-1 lines, please call…”

“Nearly 5,000 police officers are on the streets of Los Angeles city limits, with more dispatched throughout the county.”

As residents lock themselves into their homes in an attempt to be protected by the crime spike, you respond to call after call with no break in between. Some of the stops you’ve made were false alarms, but you’ve also been shot at, yelled at, and engaged in two fights between those pointless stops. Though overtime was approved, you’re nearing the end of your sixteenth hour in the shop and need a break. Grey called the officers from this morning to return to the station before heading home. You only get eight hours off before you have to come back, but you’ll take what you can get.

Tim’s place is closer to the station, so you plan to go there rather than your home on the other side of the city. The more time you can find to sleep, the better. You’re sure everyone is just as tired and in need of rest, so you would like to do something special for them in the morning. If you can wake up in time, that is.

“Hi,” you greet when Tim opens his door.

He is obviously surprised to see you but invites you in any way. You thank him as you walk toward the couch.

“Can I crash here tonight? It’s closer and I’m exhausted.”

Tim scoffs before he nods. He returns to the kitchen and continues cooking as you set your bag down.

“How was your day?” you ask. “I had endless calls, so I can’t imagine how hectic it was for you.”

“Of course you can’t,” Tim replies without looking up. “Considering you’re just a glorified meter maid.”

Tim is tired and stressed, you remind yourself, but the words still cut through you like the knife in his hand. You were in dangerous situations for most of the day, and though you haven’t been a cop as long as Tim, your job is still important. And you’re good at it.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask after a tense moment of silence.

“What I said. I do more than you, but if you’re so exhausted that you can’t even drive home-“

“Tim, that’s-”

Tim finally looks up as he cuts you off to say, “You barely passed your rookie exam, you haven’t made a decent-sized arrest in months, and you think they attached you to any decent calls? This city is ripping at the seams right now and trust me when I say you are chasing garden fluff because no one trusts you to do any more. You’re lucky they were desperate enough to bring you up from writing traffic tickets. We just needed help and you were there.”

Tim’s jaw clenches as he steps toward you, and you try to remember that he is just emotional from a long day. You are, too, but you’re not taking it out on him.

“I don’t want to fight with you about this,” you offer.

“Well, sure. Because it can’t be your fault, right?” Tim asks.

His voice is rising, and only the couch separates you. His eyes are dark, and though you don’t want to give him an excuse to keep going, you refuse to be treated like this.

“Why does everything have to be about who is at fault with you?” you demand. “Are you aware that things just happen sometimes?”

“Not to you, though.”

“If you think my life is so perfect, why do you insist on worrying about me so often? No one asked you to do any of this! You could have just asked me to go home if you were this upset about a bad day.”

“You don’t even know what a bad day is! What did you do today? Respond to all of the scared housewives in gated communities?”

You could tell him the truth, that you were inches away from a bullet intended to kill you, but you think he’d somehow find a way to blame you. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and though you want to stop fighting, you also need to remind Tim that you’re not a rookie he can walk all over you and blame for every little thing that goes wrong in his life.

“If that’s what you think I do, I can’t change your mind,” you reply.

“Well, those of us who actually acted like cops today went through more than you’ve seen in your career. You’re a bad cop, which makes it harder on the rest of us, to carry your weight, but no one admits it after they see your pretty smile,” Tim snaps loudly.

“I’m done, Tim!” you yell.

You’re surprised by the volume of your statement, but it gets Tim to fall silent, if only for a moment.

“With what?” he asks.

“This! I am done coming back to you every day just for you to pick fights over nothing!”

“Oh, so now it’s nothing? You can complain about your day, but I can’t?”

“That’s the difference, Tim! You’re not complaining about a long day to share something and ask for comfort. You’re tearing me apart because you can’t handle your own emotions. I love you, but these fights aren’t worth it.”

“You love me but I’m not worth it,” Tim says with a sarcastic shrug and set jaw.

“That’s not what I said, and you know it.”

“Well maybe I’m just as stupid about emotions and relationships as you are about police work.”

You pick up your bag and pull it onto your shoulder quickly. As you brush past Tim, you murmur, “I’m not doing this anymore.” The door slams behind you as you leave and severs the connection you and Tim had.

After you leave, Tim sits in his anger for a while. He blames you, picks apart everything you said, and misremembers your words to make you seem like the bad guy. Suddenly, though, Tim hears your genuine I love you, but these fights aren’t worth it. He remembers the look in your eyes as he yelled at you. You never wanted to fight; you asked to stop because you just wanted to relax before returning to work. Yet Tim treated you as an emotional punching bag, something he promised himself he would never do.

Tim drops his head into his hands and sighs. He needs to apologize but can’t take back a word he said. You said you weren’t doing it – your relationship, he presumes – anymore, so Tim gives you room. The clock ticks slowly as he thinks about you, but his next shift grows nearer quickly. He texts you an apology, knowing it’s less than the least he can do. You deserve a grand gesture, a middle-of-the-night, in-person apology from the heart. But with an early morning shift, Tim knows you and he both need the break Wade sent you home to take. So, he sends a few simple words before sitting back in his misery.

In your room, you sit alone to wallow. Your phone buzzes, and you read Tim’s apology before you toss your phone to the side. It’s not enough to forgive or forget everything he said, and you can’t return to that environment yet. So, you don’t answer.

You fall asleep at the same time as Tim, though far away from the comfort you craved, with only a few hours before you’ll be forced to see each other again. Maybe another seemingly endless shift will distract you from your sadness.

Walking into the Mid-Wilshire station the morning after your fight with Tim, your injured pride and broken heart go nearly undetected. You attribute this in part to the specialty donuts you brought in; you couldn’t sleep anyway, so you left before your alarm went off to try to make everyone else’s day better than yours. Lucy talks to you in the locker room like it’s just another morning, even though you are heartbroken. Tim, however, is the talk of the station. His visible devastation and misery draw the attention of every officer in the building. When you step out and unintentionally make eye contact with him, the people closest to you can see what you’re hiding a little better. 

“I should have seen it before,” Lucy tells Angela. “She was acting a little different, but I thought she was just tired.”

“I’ve never seen Tim like this before. He is miserable,” Angela says. “And he will take it out on you.”

“That’s fine. But… will they be okay?”

Angela shrugs. “I wish I could say yes, Lucy.”

Wade notices you and Tim sitting on opposite sides of the room during roll call, and he’s the last of them to be pulled into your shared misery. Now that you have seen Tim, your misery is just as obvious, and even the people who don’t know you or Tim well can see the difference.

“Nolan,” Wade calls before he instructs John to ride with you for the day. You’re unsure if it’s because of you and Tim or something else you don’t know about. Regardless, it’s because your emotions play a role in your ability to be a good cop… but maybe you were never one of those, to begin with, like Tim said.

At least I won’t have to talk. Nolan can carry the conversation for both of us, you think.

“What’s up with Tim today?” Nolan asks.

“We’re not talking about Officer Bradford,” you reply quickly.

“Okay. Then what’s up with you? The donuts were nice, but I assume you had the time to get them for a reason.”

“Nolan, we’re not having this conversation,” you snap. “We’re cops, not friends.”

“Sounds like I’m with Bradford,” Nolan mumbles.

“You have no idea,” you reply.

Meanwhile, Tim and Lucy are stuck at the station doing paperwork. Today is slower, and there’s a lot to catch up on from the chaos yesterday. Lucy knows better than to pry after spending so much time with Tim, but she can see that something is weighing on him. More than whatever invisible burden he’s carrying, Tim is devastated. She has seen it before, briefly when one of Tim’s former partners passed away, but this is different.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lucy offers.

“No,” Tim replies immediately.

Lucy nods before her phone chimes. It only makes noise when another cop contacts her, and she rushes to read the message.

“Tim, Nolan said he needs us to meet them. He just said they’re trapped and it’s really dangerous,” she relays.

“Let’s go.”

Tim runs through the station to reach his shop, and his mind races with every step. Tim lost you last night, but he refuses to lose you forever. If – when you both get to the other side of this, Tim will give you the apology you deserve, he tells himself. And he will never be in this position again.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” Nolan asks over the nearby gunfire.

You’re a bad cop, Tim says in your mind.

“I- I don’t know what to do, Nolan,” you admit. “I can’t do this.”

Nolan’s eyes widen. He knew you were acting differently, but your sudden and complete lack of confidence shocks him. Both of you are pinned in the corner of a warehouse, in danger of being tortured, executed, or some sick combination of worse things. You know you need to act, but your pride and your abilities are shot, thanks to Tim. You’ll be lucky if you don’t get shot, too.

“You can do this,” Nolan assures you. “You have to. Whoever said-“

“Move!” you demand.

Nolan ducks, and you fire through a nearby doorway. It draws attention to you and Nolan, and your confidence takes another hit as three men aim rifles at your chest. The red dots form a perfect triangle around your heart. Things could have been so different if you had just gone home last night instead of giving into your never-ending craving for Tim’s comfort.

“Tim,” Angela calls when he and Lucy arrive. “You don’t want to go in there.”

“Yes, I do,” he replies.

She pushes a hand against his chest and shakes her head. Despite Tim’s grumbling, he trusts Angela as a friend and a fellow cop.

“What happened?” he asks softly.

Angela looks to her right, and Tim follows her line of sight. Your shop is standing wide open as CSU combs through it. The windshield is shattered, and the interior is riddled with bullet holes. Tim’s attention catches on the blood coating everything. No one could have survived that blood loss.

“Where is she?” Tim demands.

“We don’t know,” Angela admits. “She wasn’t here when we arrived. Neither was Nolan.”

“Let me help.”

Angela looks around before she whispers, “You’re too emotional.”

“She left me last night, Angela. It was all my fault, and I didn’t even get to apologize! So, I am helping, whether you want it or not.”

Angela nods as Lucy returns to Tim’s side. He looks back to your shop and knows. He knows he is too late. That realization changes everything.

“You’re right,” he tells Angela. “I’m too close; I shouldn’t help.”

“Timothy,” she begins.

“No, I- she’s gone. We both know that. And I can’t do this, not knowing that she died out here thinking that I didn’t love her. That I didn’t fight for her.”

“Let me know if that changes, Tim.”

Angela walks away to continue investigating the scene. Lucy lays her hand on Tim’s back to provide some comfort, but he shakes her hand off before he moves toward the shop. Crime doesn’t stop just because Tim’s world ends, and if throwing himself into his work will distract him, he’ll let it. But being busy and tired will never get between you and him again.

“Snipers,” Lucy whispers as she reads something on her phone.

“What about them?” Tim inquires.

“Oh, uh, just something Angela sent me.”

“About her?”

“Yeah.”

Tim nods, and his knuckles grow white as he grips the steering wheel. “There were snipers?”

“Three of them, from what they can tell. A gun left behind matched the ballistics of the bullets in her shop. It seems like… like someone was executed in her shop.”

“Let’s take another call, Chen.”

Lucy nods and requests dispatch to begin sending them calls again. The first is a bank robbery in process, and Tim only hopes that adrenaline and devastation mix well.

“Gun!” Lucy yells before ducking behind the armored personnel carrier outside the bank.

Tim doesn’t hesitate to raise his arms and shoot. The sniper falls backward, and Tim wills his mind not to wonder how different things would be if he’d been with you instead of Nolan. Snipers took you from him, but this taste of retribution doesn’t help Tim. He walks away as soon as the bank is cleared. He wants to punch something, yell, cry, and maybe do it all at once, but it won’t bring you back. Nothing short of an apology that he can’t give will.

Tim sits on his couch in the dark because it’s as close to peace as he can get. If he closes his eyes too long, he sees you standing on the other side of the room, defending yourself from his emotional outburst. The argument was pointless, and you wanted to stop it, but Tim kept pushing. The more he thinks about it, the more he starts to turn his sadness into self-hatred because he acted like his father. He drops his head into his hands and asks himself why he allowed himself to be driven so far. Despite how he treated you and the horrible, untrue things he said, you told Tim you loved him. He loves you more than anything but didn’t return the sentiment in the heat of the moment. And now he never can.

“I love you,” Tim whispers now. “I’m so sorry.”

Someone knocks on his door, fast raps with no break between them. Tim rubs his face as he stands and walks around the couch-turned-fighting ring to answer it.

“Tim,” Angela says quickly. “We found something. We know where they were an hour ago.”

Tim looks over his shoulder to the cruiser at the end of his driveway. The lights are on, and Nyla is inside, ready to go.

“I wanted to extend the invite,” Angela adds.

Tim nods as he yanks his keys from the table by his door. He doesn’t bother to check if the door locks behind him as he races toward the car, toward you. Nyla drives quickly and parks outside an abandoned house less than fifteen minutes later. While Tim looks at the house, he sees someone move in the window.

“Somebody’s inside,” he alerts.

Nyla nods and instructs Tim to wait while she and Angela approach the house. Before they exit the car, the person walks out of the front door with their hands up. Tim throws the door open and sprints across the yard before anyone says anything.

“Nolan,” he calls.

“What happened here?” Nyla asks.

Her tone makes Tim look around, and he counts at least eight bodies in the front yard. Most are covered, and the desperation, dread, misery, and heartbreak churn in his stomach as he wonders if any of them are you.

“We walked into an ambush. She got one of them down, but we were cornered, surrounded. They dragged their ‘failure’ to the shop and finished him off before they brought us here.” After he explains, Nolan turns to Tim and says, “She asked me to give you this.”

He pulls a bloody piece of paper from his pocket and passes it to Tim, who accepts it wordlessly.

“Where…” is she? Tim wants to say, but he can’t finish the question.

“Uh, she’s inside,” Nolan answers.

Tim hears confirmation that you’re here and runs through the carnage-covered yard and house to find you. He grips the letter tightly as he navigates through the dark house. Tim stops when he sees your badge lying in a corner, and squats to retrieve it. It’s scuffed and bloody, but Tim can’t leave any piece of you behind. He tucks your letter into his pocket to hold your badge.

“Officer Bradford?”

Tim turns quickly and nearly trips over a bloody hammer. He would recognize that voice anywhere. When his eyes finish adjusting in the darkness, and he sees you slumped in the opposite corner, propped up behind the door, he crosses the room in the time it takes you to blink. Tim’s hands cup your face gently as he leans closer to you.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“Save it,” you reply. “This isn’t over yet. He said he was coming back.”

“Where’d he go?” Tim asks, effortlessly switching back to cop mode.

You smile, and Tim swallows harshly as your injured lip splits and produces a fresh bead of blood. “To rob a bank. As if you weren’t busy enough, right?”

The sniper at the bank, Tim remembers. “He’s gone,” he says quickly. “We got him.”

“You got him?” you clarify.

Tim shakes his head, and you raise your hands to his sides as you lean toward him.

“I could never do this alone. I can’t do any of this without you.”

“Did you read my letter?”

Tim pulls the paper from his back pocket and shakes his head as he reads the two short sentences.

“I forgive you. I love you,” you say as Tim reads the same words.

“It won’t happen again,” Tim promises.

“It might. We have hard jobs, but we can get through it. Right?”

Tim’s reply is a careful kiss to your forehead before he yells for a paramedic. Nolan leads Angela and Nyla inside a moment later, and they enter the door beside you.

“You could’ve mentioned she was alive,” Tim tells Nolan.

“You ran in before I said, ‘she’d like to see your face first, considering she almost died and you were the only thing she talked about,’” Nolan answers.

“Shut up,” you and Tim say together.

“This is the thanks,” Nolan mumbles.

“Can I crash at your place?” you ask Tim. “Without the argument?”

“Wouldn’t let you go anywhere else. The best cop I know deserves some comfort.”

“I thought I was the best cop you knew,” Angela teases.

“I love you,” you tell Tim.

“I love you,” he answers. After he looks into your eyes and smiles, he yells, “Where is the ambulance?”

[punksocks]

Astrology Observation: No.24 (18+ Only)

No minors! Adults only pls

Just based on my opinions only take what resonates

-Water moons/mars are the most likely to just say they love you during s*x (they may mean it too !); Can happen to fire moon/mars too but they may not mean it after the moment; Earth Moon/Mars will not be saying anything without planning well in advance (Earth moon AND Mars, you will not catch them slip lmao); I’d assume Air Moon/Mars would be the most likely to tease the other person(s) and say just about anything but I love you

-Venus aspects to Mars/ Taurus/Libra mars/ Venus and/or Mars in 2nd could really enjoy dressing up in lingerie and setting up a s*xy atmosphere in general (and your partner would enjoy this too !)

-1st/2nd /7th/8th house Venus, Scorpio Venus, Venus conjunct Pluto/ sometimes 12th house venus you may get compliments on your genitals from people during s*x (like told you have a pretty p*ssy lol yea fr)

-1st /8th house mars, Aries mars, Scorpio mars/Mars conjunct Pluto/sometimes 12th house mars would also be this for those in their masc energy (instead of pretty someone might admire the aggressive look of your junk instead)

-Imo the easiest sexual partners to discuss boundaries and such with will be partners that have easy (conjunct/trine/Sextile) mars aspects to your Mercury and/or moon

-I know we’d assume that mars in 8th is the most s*xual but I’d argue that mars in 12th is also super s*xual. Intimacy tends to be heavy on the mind, and there’s a higher chance of mirroring s*xual energy back to others. Especially if the native acts out of their masc/mars energy

-i’d think Aries, Leo, and Scorpio mars would be the most into their partner being SO attracted to them they can’t keep their hands off of them and/or finish too fast (least likely with Scorpio unless you’re just really over stimulating them, most likely with Aries- the most veracious Aries mars go rounds imo)

-I’d argue and assume that air mars/3rd house mars are spacing out the hardest during s*x, and I bet it’s not on purpose (just bouncing between thoughts and coming back to what’s going on)(also if you keep their attention, you’re doing something right)

-Water mars could mean you sleep around for emotional validation (…Imma say it… cancer mars has the strongest chances lol)

-I think your Venus and mars together can show if you’re more of a sub or dom imo (like if they’re both cardinal you’re probably a dom, if they’re mutable then you may be a switch/sub, and if they’re fixed I’d think you’d be hard set on being a sub or dom — and then results may vary depending on the combination of signs and how much of your feminine or masculine energy you act out of.)

-I think Scorpio Venus/Mars makes someone more dominant in s*x than Aries mars/Venus imo (they’re not here to win, they’re here to posses you- that’s so intense man)

-Understated praise kink placements? Virgo moon/mars. They need to hear praises for how well they did or they’re gonna overthink it. Libra/Taurus mars also would like this. And Venus square/opposition Mars would too in a tell me how much you want me sort of way (it makes them feel really desired)

-Tumblr ruined me bc now every time I look up a dudes birth chart and see Sagittarius mars/Jupiter positively aspecting mars I’m like damn, do they just have bde or actually have a big d*ck and I feel bad for guessing lmao but now it’s so automatic

-Strong Lilith placements (1st/7th/8th/10th) can show guys pressuring you to perform their like shadow side fantasies (which is not cool, because where’s the consent? We always need to discuss things beforehand and map out a plan otherwise it’s skeezy behavior -unless you’re into being surprised but even then lol)

-Gemini placements (the big 6, but especially mars) make you louder in bed. And more open to trying new things and switching up positions.

-5th house synastry is really s*xy and fun. Some of the best dates and relationships imo. It also allows you to open up and experiment in a way you never have before. Can keep a long term relationship exciting as well depending on the overall synastry. (Be careful bc this is the pregnancy overlay too oml)

-I think north node in 5th can (depending on the sign and aspects ofc) can point to indulging in the senses, partying, breakin hearts and hookin up a bunch— especially if you’re unbalanced/still learning to balance this with your south node energy

-(in sing songy voice) Scorpio synastry is someone telling you s*x with you makes them f*cking crazy (No they are not kidding ! Lilith synastry is this on steroids but it feels more like you’re lighting this fire in the more masc person - and they’re afraid of burning imo (I’m not singing any more lol)

-I hold to the fact that Lilith in 1st/7th/8th/10th can make someone jump into bed with you way faster than they usually would even if they have like an earth or water mars, if you have Lilith synastry with them this is amplified

-Masc folks/Men with Taurus and/or Cancer in their big 6 (especially mars/venus) are very attracted to women/femmes that are curvy and have an hourglass figure. Aries placements tend to be attracted to athletic figures. Leo placements are likely to jump at figures they find attention grabbing. Libra/Scorpio placement men are more likely to be attracted to figures that they’re socialized to find s*xy. I find that Sagittarius/Pisces is the least likely to have a set type. Aquarius and Gemini are also pretty dependent on personality and conversation skills.

[keymintt]

i’m sure this has been at least mentioned before but one of the things that’s so fucking funny to me abt kim is that, for all the shit he gives you (harry) when you try to get him to dance or wear the piss jacket, he actually wants to do those things to some extent

over the course of the game you can’t get him (or other characters for that matter) to do things he doesn’t want to do. disco elysium isn’t a power fantasy game like that. don’t get me wrong some things he needs to be convinced/challenged for, but he can and does outright Refuse things at times like when you suggest getting on the kineema and cutting the body down from there, not going into the tent with the ravers, or not climbing up the shitty feld building ladder, etc. and there are also definitely moments when he reluctantly puts up with harry/the player’s antics bc harry’s persistent and it’ll just put a quicker end to things to be like, “yeah sure fine i’ll eat the sandwich“ or, “i'll spare you another *20 hour mind-project*— yes, i am”

when you really badger him into dancing in the church and pass the authority check, he of course puts up some resistance but then goes, “now check *this* shit out!“ and starts busting it down! if he was reluctant to dance, he’d totally just do some stupid lil shimmy to appease harry with the same enthusiasm of, “oh god more cryptids” but no! he starts “heel kick[ing] the church floor with such intensity, it’s reasonable to fear he’ll kick a hole right through it“ he had those moves Locked And Loaded, but it’s not like he was gonna bust them out oh god no, then harry pulls his rank on him and he thinks “well everyone else here can see that the guy making a bigger fool of himself is ordering me to do it so i guess it’s okay for me to“

(thinking abt that, there’s prolly something to also say there abt music being a sort of outlet for kim. in my brain the anodic dance music and the shit speedfreaks fm plays have more in common than not, but kim also strikes me as somewhat of a music snob about that sort of stuff so. i dunno)

and then the pissfaggot jacket! when you’re trying to convince him to put it on he essentially says “you’re gonna keep bothering me about this no matter what“ but at the end of the interaction he still puts the jacket on and keeps it on! “the first chance i get, this thing’s coming off“ yeah right, the first chance he had was immediately after putting it on, harry clearly doesn’t give a shit if kim leaves him hanging fashion-wise, he’s the one who puts on the fuck the world jacket first! and once harry takes off the fuck jacket, the piss jacket is gone too, so it basically boils down to “as long as i’m following around this guy who’s making a bigger fool of himself, i can do this thing that i wanted to do got coerced into going along with“ 

kim’s also like “it really *does* look cool to have both of these jackets on right now“ once he puts it on like who are you kidding bro. your lame ass wanted this. sure he wanted to be a jackass and take the jackets but he also confiscated those hubcaps because they were cool and he was gonna eventually install them, was he not gonna steal the jacket to wear it?

he has his pristine little Image to uphold so he’ll only do things he wants to do if it looks like he’s being forced to and/or he won’t be the biggest fool in the room because god forbid he expresses himself. there’s plenty of deeper analysis here in conjunction with how he relishes in having control over his desires and how harry’s someone who can get him to break his rigid self-control and let loose a bit, but for me it just boils down to:

he’s so fucking lame and it’s so fucking funny

[etoilesbienne]

out of curiosity, what are the common qEtoiles mischaracterizations, and the accurate characterizations you wished people used more? Sincerely, an English speaking fan who is re-learning French!

honestly i kind of consider it a mischaracterization when people like... make etoiles into this team leader who always knows what to do and move things forward. or like that he has a bad attitude to like... match his fighting skills. or like the dark knight brooding warrior. he says he is these things. these are lies. he lies about himself constantly. i wouldnt trust a good 2/3 of the things he says about himself to be true. you read him clearer through his actions than his statements.

in my opinion etoiles is more like. sturdy second in command. he's not there to lead, he's there to fill in the holes where they pop up. he's there as cover. he's quick witted in shortchange scenarios, but that is so not the same thing as a genuine strategist. in another expression, if someone is a leader, the leader is a doctor, etoiles's role is more like... the EMS team in an ambulance. He's not there to fix your problem, he's there to keep your problem covered until you can get someone else to fully fix it. but that doesn't mean his role is any less important when he's needed.

Etoiles is also, like, so very much a team player if he respects and trusts a person. And it is so easy to have his respect and trust. His trust starts at 100% for everyone. he's also so very very very good at reading people (gesture to the bbh clip where bbh moves his mouse slightly downward and etoiles calls him out on being depressed). He read Mousey as enjoying dungeons and pvp way more and wanting to hang out with her. He's also one of the only people who like continuously runs in the girlies group and makes all of them pvp with him and they all love it so he keeps coming back to pvp with them. Thats how he started his whole thing with Tina and pvping with her constantly. Reading other people also, he loves finding other pvpers so he attacks roier constantly now bc he knows roier can pvp.

What else OH Etoiles loves whining (and this is because Rayou loves whining) that dude will just complain constantly. You haven't seen an etoiles stream if youve never seen him whine. Can't say I'm not kind of endeared by it. With this too he loves over explaining things (RIP armor powerpoint wish you couldve been given...) because he wants to help everyone....

OH and he's very over exaggerated too in replying to people in a complaining way and a self deprecating way and also likes to try to push the envelope with people and he does all of that to try and get a laugh out of others. like he's well aware people find him going "Oh so you don't give a shit about me and want me to die ? you want etoiles to die ?" fucking hilarious and also loves complaining in the first place thats why he does that. if your etoiles isn't complaining and whining then it isn't etoiles. the self deprecating thing is... its interesting bc he does have full faith in his abilities but will never say it out loud unless its trying to reassure someone who is worried. pushing the envelope is so specific he won't do it too much and its like........... from what ive seen (correct me if im wrong) heavily directed at non francophones where if they laugh at something wack he's done he'll try to do it again to make them laugh more. shoutout to the time he made bbh laugh so much when he cursed he didn't get languaged by bbh so he kept cursing to try to make bbh do it again. the dudes a total people pleaser.

smaller thing ive talked about extensively already (u can prob find it in my q!etoiles tag if i remember i'll edit a link to the posts in here soon lol) etoiles hates losing he looooooves winning he's very intense about it lol. its cute!

on a final note even if you don't become deeply unwell about etoiles like i am i think this highlight clip video has like everything he's like condensed into like 11 minutes. You should watch it. It's a good starting point.

[sssilverstoned]

while you can still smell them ꩜ ln4

type: full length fic

word count: 3.9k

title from: i wish you roses by kali uchis

warnings: some fluff, angst, but like it's a happy ending. cursing bc i'm me, italics are memories

lily said: you know me i can never leave well enough alone. i thought this little snapshot of the break that was never really a break would be cute! for context, i'd suggest looking at the ig au linked below! this would be taking place in between part 2 and 3.

part 1

part 2

part 3

masterlist

You've only seen Lando cry on occasions that called for it. When family members died, when racing got too much for his mental, in some awful, awful moments. Maybe that's why it hurts so bad to see him cry now.

"A break feels a lot like you should add 'up' to that statement," he had said, turning away from you, looking out at the stars. You were sat on his balcony, feeling suffocated by the apartment. But the AC was on and working fine, and windows were open. Your emotions were suffocating you, that was more fitting.

"We can't keep on like this, Lan," you say in a broken voice, the lump in your throat thick and threatening. "It's not fair to either of us."

He doesn't realize he's crying until the drop hits his nose, making it quirk up in surprise. He swipes at his face, a pawlike move to get rid of the teardrops.

"Do you not love me anymore?"

His question makes you sob. Full body, head dropping to chest, your hands writing in your lap. The sound of you breaking down turns him back to you, rushing to the chair you've melted into. He lifts your face in his hands, and you take a breath when you see his face, discolored with tears.

"I'll always love you," he makes out of your words, just barely. "I, I just, it's not the same,"

"We can fix this, us. We can work on it together," Lando's brain is whirring at hyper speed, damage controlling the last 8 months of your lives together.

The cracks began to become schisms when he committed your largest pet peeve, which was ignoring things out of ease. Blissful ignorance, if you will.

It was small things, like forgetting about date nights in lieu of longer trainings or prolonging trips. Sometimes he forgot to water the plants, or didn't move laundry over, and that was manageable. That's what every couple encounters. What every couple does not encounter, was the intense pressure of racing a car for a living.

He was frustrated, with Zak, with anything papaya colored, and with his own self-doubts. He carried that frustration in his chest, and it came out in some of the words he spoke to you, and actions he took. You eventually stopped offering to come over and cook, because dinners were becoming continuously tense, and you were uncomfortable. Felt like a nuisance.

But at the same time, you were both so codependent. Without anything being said, you two began to avoid things you assumed the other wouldn't like, and asked for permission to do the smallest of things. You first noticed it when your sister pointed had asked you to come go with her out of town for the weekend, and you hesitated. "I'll have to ask Lando," you had told her. She bit her tongue.

Lando was just as bad, he had quite literally lost the ability to sleep when you weren't around. It made Grand Prix weekends an actual nightmare when you weren't there, calling you at any times in the day or night.

"Are you alright, it's 4am,"

"Sorry, can't sleep again. The melatonin does nothing,"

"Did you try the tea my mum got you?"

"Baby I just," he scrubs a hand down his exhausted face. "I just need you here."

"I can't just get up and go to Australia."

"I'll get you a flight, or maybe we can-"

"Lando," you say in a sterner voice. "I can't."

He's quiet for a moment, and you wonder what's going through his head. You hardly raised your voice or got intense, certainly never at him. But then again, recently, you seemed to never know what was going through his head.

It was silly to think that Lando was the same man that you began dating. You were 19, you would pray that he had changed somehow over the span of 5 years. But there was something missing that once was. The relationship was becoming more of a task, and that wasn't right. Which is what brought you to this moment, brought you to telling him you needed to talk.

"Lan," you whimper, bringing a hand up where his hold your face on either side. You don't even have to say anything more, he knows you better than you know yourself. And he begins to cry harder.

"I've never loved anyone but you, baby."

"I know."

"I can't, I really don't want to live without you," he shakes his head, standing back up to his full height. His hands stay busy, though, ripping through his hair.

"I'm not going to go away," you explain, agonized that you're calmer than he at this point. You stand from the wicker chair, but don't edge closer to him. "But my career is unpredictable right now, 6 months in Marbella is a long time. And you're, well, everywhere. And you need to focus on that."

"I've multitasked for 5 years," he says bitterly, making you sigh. His eyes are back on the stars, and his back to you makes your eyes blurry again.

"I'm not happy." You finally blurt, making his body stiffen. "I'm really not."

When he looks at you again, his expression reads clearly with fatigue, with anguish. "Please, baby, don't,"

It's your turn to clutch his face, bringing his forehead to touch with yours. Through your contact, you feel the heaves of his body, the breaths he's trying to control. "It's not forever," you whisper, mustering courage. "But we need to stop acting like everything's fine."

"I don't see myself without you."

"You're not," your hold tightens, he leans further into your palm, "but we've grown up together. The flower pot's too small now," you try to joke, he barely can fake amusement.

"I'll buy a thousand new pots."

"We need to clean up the broken one, first." His jaw clenches, you soothe it with your thumb. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He says back, almost silently. "Still wear that Mclaren shirt on race days, I need the luck."

You finally crack a smile. "I'll wear the hat too if my hairstyle permits."

He kisses you, almost convincing himself this if is the last fix he can get for a while, he needed it now. Not that either of you know it, but you both have the same thought. You both notice that your cheeks have each other's tears on them now, not sure which ones came from whom. You were on the same page in that regard, at least.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

"You should ask y/n out," your best friend says to Lando in the middle of a party. He chokes on his drink, not expecting her to come up to him like she did, and not expecting the words out her mouth.

You all were freshly 19, still congregating in someone's living room to try to have a good time. He knew your friends better than he knew you, the newest of the group in town, only having moved to the area with your family when you were 16.

"Should I, now?" He says, recovering from his fright.

"Yeah," she replies, ignoring the sarcasm. "She goes on about you, it's cute. She'd hurt me if she knew I told you, though. Not sure what she sees in you," his eyes narrow at the girl, which she ignores once again. "You'd be lucky to have a girl like her in your life."

That much, he knew. You were fiercely loyal to your friends and family, and treated him with a kindness that made him melt every time. You were funny, and genuine, and not to mention, the most beautiful person he's sure he knows.

When he bumps into you later at the party, he asks you what you're doing the following evening.

That was the story he'd tell people with a proud grin when they ask how you two got together. All you recount is how he nearly ruined your cute top with a shitty guinness.

He's struck with the memory when he sees the guinness logo in the ads on the walls of a restaurant. "Mate," Max all but snaps his fingers. Lando locks back in, humming for what he missed.

"Was just curious if you wanted to go out tonight. They've been texting in the chat about it, I saw you never responded."

Clubbing wasn't as fun as it used to be, not when you weren't dancing your heart out beside him, or waiting in bed with your nose in a book when he came home because you weren't feeling like going out. It felt like a waste of his time, and like he was sucking the fun out of other people's nights.

"'M alright," he says with a tight mouthed grin. "Gonna sit this one out."

Max looks at his friend, seeing through his response. "When's the last time you went out?"

If he had to take an educated guess, you last graced his apartment that night on the balcony, 4 weeks ago. So, 4 weeks ago. Perhaps longer, judging by the schisms. "A while. Not up to it."

"You're torturing yourself."

"I'm not interested in getting shitfaced, Max."

Max looks away for a second, quickly weighing the pros and cons of asking what he's been wanting to for the last, well, 4 weeks. "Do you think Y/n is wallowing too?"

The sound of your name makes his fingers twitch inadvertently, almost like a flinch. "That's not fair."

"I'm serious, Lando. You said she needed a break because she felt like you two were co-dependent and not actually working through problems, and look at you. You're not functioning without her. I mean, it's your fucking birthday next week, and you haven't brought it up once, you realize that, right?"

He knows he's right. Nothing he said was out of line, or wrong, and that's why Lando has nothing to say back. He wants to argue, to prove him wrong, but he can't. He's seen your ads and campaigns, the beautiful shots of you promoting luxury brands and names that your fans only dreamed of owning. Despite the distance, he was so proud of you still. You worked hard, were disciplined and humble through your success. He had texted you when the Dior campaign had launched, and the message of your thanks, with a smiley face, made him, for just a second, think that things were back to normal.

When they left the restaurant, and ran directly into fans, Lando tried to put on his best face for them, smiling for selfies and signing what was gestured toward him. When a sweet looking girl with glasses shyly spoke up, telling her favorite driver where she was visiting from, his tired eyes light up. "You're from there?" He confirms, and she smiles with an eager nod.

"Y/n is too," he almost mumbles, but every fan in earshot heard it. The typical squeals followed, the hushed whispers amonst themselves on if they'd push the questions they were itching to ask or not. And heard it they did, as the encounter made its way onto social media and gossip pages. But Max was right, his mourning period needed to be over, if anything was going to change for the better.

You call him on his birthday. It was nerve wracking, which made you bitterly laugh, because never did you think you'd be nervous to talk to Lando Norris of all people. One of the few people in the world you wholeheartedly trusted.

It had only been about a month since you requested time apart, and he had honored that. The texts were sparse, the calls nonexistent. Although, that was sort of what had brought you to this point anyway. But you were working on yourself, and your career at the same time, and things were looking better. Change never happened overnight, but the journal your therapist recommended, and the disappearance from social media besides professional posts were great starts.

You bite at your cuticle as the phone rings. You take your cell away from your ear, chest panging at the contact name "Lan <3" at the top of the screen. Was he really going to screen your call? Is that what you deserved, possibly?

"Y/n," he finally answers, and you quickly bring your phone back to your ear.

"Hi," you say awkwardly. "Happy birthday, Lando."

"Thank you," he says stiffly. "I'm happy to hear from you."

"Yeah I um, haven't really been on my phone here," you bite harder on your finger. "I think it's nice here, you'd love Marbella."

"I'm sure I would," he says with what you can hear is a smile. "I miss you, you know?"

"I miss you too," you concede, "how have you been?"

"Not great, I won't lie. Much rather would hear about you."

"'s not my birthday," and he smiles a bit at that.

"Well, racing's fine. But Max is sick of my shit, says I've been wallowing."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

You don't really know what to say, you've rarely been the perpetrator of his negative feelings. No relationship was perfect, but you all hadn't really hit a communication wall until now. It was uncharted, scary territory. "Well, I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, that was all. Have a good day, really. 24 is a big one. Kobe year, that's what someone said to me. I hope this year is great for you."

"Y/n, wait," he halts your beginnings to hang up. "I'd like to come to see you soon, I've got some time before Abu Dhabi and maybe I could swing by Spain on the way."

"Lando," he absolutely hates that you're calling him by his whole name. Lan, that's what would you called him almost exclusively. Lando feels so formal from you.

He needs to hear it, you know he does. He needs to hear that you want to see him, that you need to see him just as much as he yearns to put eyes on you once more. But you were constantly afraid of accidental manipulation, holding him by some invisbile garotte. But this was his first birthday you hadn't celebrated together since you were 19, that meant something.

"Please focus on racing," you implore, and squeeze your eyes shut before adding, "but you if you'd like to come and it won't be an issue in your plans, you're more than welcome."

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

You saw the posts, it wasn't very hard. Fans utterly disappointed that you and Lando hadn't been seen together in ages, putting pieces together quickly after you didn't post for his birthday. It didn't make you feel worse, to be truthful, and to your surprise. You were sure there'd be a barrage of insults hurled your way, maybe a cheating rumor or two. But really, all there was to see were requiems for your relationship, nostalgia for what once was. What did cause you to delete instagram from your phone, was the response to the podcast.

You were single for the time being, that's what you and Lando had agreed on when he visited you. It wasn't an invitation to go out and find the next man to lay in your bed, but you both had agreed that it wasn't healthy to hold out in anticipation of your rekindling.

"You're the only girl I've, you know," he awkwardly trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. He sits up in bed, linens pooling around his hips. Hooking up with your now ex-boyfriend, might've not been your brightest idea, sure, but you were both human, at the end of the day.

"Fucked?" you tease, remaining comfortable against your plush pillow. "I know. First few times kinda showed that."

He looks back at you pointedly. "You cried the first time."

"It hurt!"

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head in fake annoyance. You grin. "I'm sure the girlies are gonna have a field day with you being single now,"

He rolls his eyes again, laying, or rathing slumping, back into the pillow next to you. His arm instinctively comes around the top of your head, you try not to lean into it. "I think I really will finally listen to you and focus on racing."

You turn on your side, admiring his profile as he stares up at the ceiling, probably tangled in his thoughts. His nose sloped perfectly, the little freckles dotting his skin like constellations. Your boy.

"I told my mum."

He snorts. "She hates me now, I'm sure."

"Mm, no, her first ask was what I did," your mom was Lando's biggest fan, through and through. Of course, you were her daughter, but she was convinced he was cosmically made perfectly for you.

He looks at you then, realizing your eyes have been on him the whole time. He copies your position, turning to you so your bodies lay parallel, nowhere to look but each other's eyes.

"Do you regret that I'm the only boyfriend you've ever had?"

You immediately shake your head in denial of the question. "No, not at all," you were lucky, if anything. "You?"

"Well, I've had other girlfriends,"

"Ouch?"

"You knew that," he chuckles, and yeah, you did. "But I don't regret that you're the only one I've been serious about. I still am."

"I know. I am too."

"An ex-boyfriend doesn't lay in bed with you, you know."

"And an ex-girlfriend doesn't still remind your team when your doctor's appointments are,"

"Fair enough, guess we're just weird."

You share a matching grin. "So weird."

So once Alex uploaded the Call Her Daddy episode you were a guest on, and it was official to the masses that you had been single for now almost 4 months, the articles came in. The timelines of you and Lando's relationship, the rumors of him leaving clubs with random girls. You'd be lying if you said you didn't zoom in on some of their faces, relaxing when you recongized most of them as friends or even family members. He wasn't yours to be worried about, you suppose, but you also knew that any girl he decided to share his time with would be a lucky one.

Your friends had tried to get you on dates, that wasn't a lie when you said that on the podcast. But you weren't ever excited to get to know someone new, small talk was painful and you didn't feel comfortable going home with them.

But then, a few weeks later into February, you get a phone call from Lando. "Hi," You answer, pleasently surprised.

"Hey there," he says, sounding slightly out of breath. "How are you?"

"I'm good, great even. Finished up everything down here, leaving Marbella next week to head back home." Home was London to you, not Monaco. You constantly visited, had a family flat there and everything, but couldn't leave officially becuause of your career.

"Congratulations, everything looked stunning," he compliments, and your stomach flutters.

"But um, how are you? I'd ask if you were relaxing, but I'm sure training's well underway."

"Meh, more or less. I'm heading to Surrey next week, actually. Got some stuff to do at HQ."

"Oh," Surrey was only about an hour and a half from where you were in London. "Would you, well, not assuming anything, but if you'd have time to spare, it would be great to catch up?"

This isn't why Lando called you, you fully know this. Who knows what he picked up the phone for, he could be calling to let you know he's eloped with someone he's met in the 6 months you've been apart.

"I'd love to," you hear his grin in his voice. "You haven't moved, have you?"

Not only had you not moved, but you haven't changed much about your flat either. Same bedding, same color schemes, same photos decorating your tables and walls of your friends, family, and Lando. He never took the photos of you down either, and that photo from your 21st birthday was still stuffed in his wallet.

You order takeout, sitting across the kitchen island from each other acting like it didn't feel like your first date again. He acts like he doesn't want to reach out for your hands as you animatedly use them to share stories of Spain, and you act like you don't want to push the curls back that threathen to land over his eyebrows.

The food gets cold as you two catch up, a few glasses of wine becoming a whole bottle gone. You actually can't remember the last time the two of you had done this, and perhaps, absence had truly made your hearts grow fonder.

"Bahrain is on leap day," Lando says, making you gasp.

"That's got to be good luck, no?"

"It's just the first practice,"

"But still, you're starting your first weekend of the year on a special day like that," you muse, "so exciting. I'm excited for you,"

His chest warms at endearment in your voice. You truly and honestly rooted for him through everything, that was one of the things he was most grateful for about you. He knows you don't truly care about all of this, if he won or lost, but that you care about him and his development, how he sees himself and his profession. He fell in love with that about you.

"Would you come?"

You hesitate, daring to look at him from where you had begun to clean the countertop. "To the race? "

He nods, and turn back to the counter. "I don't know, Lan. Is that where we are?"

He hopes so. He's missed you something horrible, prays you missed him just as bad.

Lando takes the cloth from your hand, replacing it with his own. "I know it's only been about 6 months, and that's not enough time to say everything's well and dandy," you fight a smile. "But I want to work through things, with you. I've had nothing but time to consider what was off with us, and I want to be better. For you, more than anything. Yeah, I learned how to be just Lando. But I know I prefer being Lando and Y/n."

You bite your lip, finally meeting his eyes. "I want to take it slow."

"We can do that,"

"So, I don't know if I'm ready for the race. But, my birthday's coming up,"

"It is,"

"And we'll be in Dubai. My sister did it up, got this crazy plan going since it'll be my 25th."

"Quite the old woman you're becoming,"

"Oh get off that," you scoff, pushing his chest. He chuckles and pulls you back into him, where you go willingly. "But, if you can, I'd love for you to come to the dinner."

He raises an eyebrow with a smirk. "You want me to fly to Dubai just for your birthday dinner?"

"You'll be in Saudi Arabia then anyway,"

The smirk gets bigger. "You know my schedule already, love?"

"You're so fucking cheeky, can't stand it," you feign annoyance, but never move from his arms.

He holds you, as your arms delicately find themselves behind his neck, not daring to kiss just yet. To really be honest, you're not sure if you're ready to take that whole plunge.

"I'm happy to be back, even if things are slow. They can be molasses for all I care."

"Thank you for being patient with me," you lean your forehead against his. However, this time, neither of you are crying. Nice, for a change.

"I'd wait decades for you, my love."

After a beat of sweet silence. You speak up once more. "One thing though," he hums to prompt your continuance. "I'm pretty sure, when it's said, it's Y/n and Lando, just so you know."

[volturissideslut]

Hii!! Can you do Jane x reader where she’s Jane’s mate but still human. One day some important information gets leaked out and everyone in the volturi thinks the reader leaked the info. (Aro can’t read her mind) So they question her for a long time and when she still says that she didn’t do it they make Jane torture her with her power. As Jane is torturing her someone walks in and says that she didn’t do it. By the time Jane stops the reader is passed out. Everyone and mostly Jane regrets what they’ve done. The reader doesn’t wake up for a few days and Jane is in absolute sorrow. And when she finally wakes up she doesn’t even look Jane in the eyes bc of the betrayal she feels. Just a lot of angst yk:))) Buuut they make up in the end. Thank youuu🫶🏻

𝕵𝖆𝖓𝖊 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

This is more of the aftermath than anything. Mentions of looking thinner

"Get out"

Though your voice was hoarse, it didn't lessen the impact. Not one bit. Jane didn't think it was possible to vampires to have panic attacks, yet what else could this be. Why was her chest so tight? She doesn't need to breathe. And though she can't sweat he skin feels clammy behind all her layers. She's a vampire, their brains go fast - she could finish a novel in five minutes, but this feels too fast. It's making her dizzy. It's making her sick.

"Please-" her mouth feels dry. Is she panting? Why does it feel like Felix is cracking her chest again? You two can get through this. You can move past this. The thought is the only thing keeping her semi-rational right now. "I can't even look at you right now. Please leave, Jane. I can't see you anymore" and god you look so broken. And she did it. Your skin looks sickly, at least seven shades yellower. And your eyes - so dull - are dragged down by the bags she gave you. Are you thinner? You look thinner, you look malnourished. Definitely unhealthy.

It's the shakey movement of your hand accompanied by a wince that pulls her from her intense observation. And she remembers what you want. She wants to stay - absolutely has to - but she can't ruin this even more. She needs to save this and even now she recognises that her being here will be detrimental to that. So she does leave.

Out the door, she sits on the floor and stares at the ceiling. Not that her eyes are recognising anything though. No. Her head is leaned back against the big double door to your shared chambers and all she can bring herself to do is listen intently to your heartbeat. You're still here. You're still safe.

You, on the other side of the door, can no longer bring yourself to stifle your own sobs at the betrayal. Your mate, your love, the one who promised to always protect you, had actually been the only vampire to hurt you. The only one you ever truly trusted. Though her gift is mental, the rough treatment had still hared you. But it was hard to tell what hurt more - the mental scar on the one on your heart.

Could you even stay?

Maybe it was time to leave

--------

That night you packed, leaving through the window. Were you as strong as them? No. But could trust Jane and be in the same place as her? Also no.

It was killing you just to be in that room, with all of them memories. All of them were now tainted, and now you could see all the similarities between her room and the dungeons.

Bag at your side mainly just filled with your previous belongings you couldn't part with, you climbed out the window only to be face to face with Alec. For fucks sake.

"You shouldn't be here," his tone was more concerned than accusing. Was he actually worried for you, though, or was he more bothered about his sister? that seemed like the more likely answer. "come. Ill walk you back" he takes the bag for you and begins to guide you gently back, hand delicately on your arm as if you were made of porcelain. He looked guilty. Remorseful even.

He led you back the longer way round as if he was giving you time. He even sat with you in the garden for a few minutes - until Jane cane storming through.

"There you are! Your heartbeat grew faint and the window was open and I-" and her hand are on your face. She stops speaking when you flinch back, heart dropping to her feet, until she feels you lean into her.

Damn mate bond and damn exhaustion because you let yourself fall into her. She can feel your heart rate speed up in fear but feels frozen when you make no effort to move away.

"Let's- let's get you to bed, yeah?" she turns her head, face frightened as she mouths a 'thank you' to Alec for keeping you here and safe. He just nods, head down as he shares part of her shame. A drop in the bucket compared to hers, though.

--------

Here she lay, back in your shared chambers, sat up against the headboard of the bed while you lay on their lap asleep. Icy fingers comb through your hair and scratch lightly at your scalp.

"We'll be okay, right? We'll be okay."

[bakubunny]

aaaa u think u could do the nsfw alphabet with aizawa?

this took a hot sec bc i got busy but here u go. 🖤

a-z for aizawa.

aftercare -> if we’re talking after sex in general, he’s cuddly and sleepy. he cuddles a bit, showers with you, maybe grabs a snack if necessary, and after that, he’s stuck to you like glue for a bit. if we’re talking like… dom!shota, he’ll give you what you need and basically just wants cuddles and kisses in return. dom drop takes a couple of days to hit and he doesn’t always notice it; making love & acts of service are the cure, so make his fav meals or take smth off his plate for a little while if you’re gonna have an intense scene.

body part -> shota doesn’t think much of his body. i don’t think he lacks confidence, he just doesn’t care. it’s not a priority other than making sure he can keep up with the demands of his job. if you had to make him pick, he’d probably say his back. i think most people hc shota as an ass man, but for personal reasons i’m gonna say he’s into necks and thighs.

cum -> ugh. i have more ideas than i should put here. he leaks quite a bit and also cums a lot. despite what many might think, he’s a very hydrated man (read: half of his “water” intake is coffee) with a half decent diet (sometimes). probably doesn’t taste great, but also not gag inducing either.

dirty secret -> he’s a dirty panty snatcher. sometimes he’ll wrap them around his dick, other times he just put them to his nose while he jacks off to smell your scent.

experience -> shota’s not like… had a ton of partners but he’s far from clueless. he knows what works for him and enjoys figuring out what works for his partner.

favorite position -> prone bone or modified doggy. maybe modified missionary, interpret that how you want.

goofy -> he can laugh over something that’s genuinely funny, but generally he’s not the one saying the funny things. he’s pretty serious. (erasermic is basically canon. you can’t tell me he wouldn’t secretly love hizashi’s goofiness in bed.)

hair -> i’m sorry, but you cannot look at how this man keeps the hair on his head and tell me he does more than the absolute bare minimum when it comes to grooming body hair, especially if he’s single. it’s dark and he’s got a lot of it. he cleans up enough that it’s not obnoxious down stairs, but no more… unless he’s with someone, then he’ll put in a little more effort for… reasons.

intimacy -> he can be rough and blah blah blah, all that, but he’s a highly intimate person in the sense that you are the only person who sees him like this, and he makes you feel like the only person in the world he could ever be with. (did i mention this mf is possessive as hell in bed? he is.)

jack off -> it’s usually more of a functional “get it over with” thing for him, but when his mind wanders, he loves to think of how you look bent over, what you sound like, how cute your fuzzy-headed face looks.

kink -> he’s got an oral fixation kink - meaning he’s turned on by a partner with an oral fixation though he doesn’t have one. breeding. he doesn’t want his own kids, but he’ll probably blow instantly the first time you beg tell him to breed you or knock you up even if you can’t get pregnant. impact play. he’s not a sadist, but he does think it’s oh so pretty when you whine and your skin changes colors. bondage. i feel like this one’s kinda self explanatory.

location -> bed or bending you over a counter.

motivation -> teasing with just the right look or touch is what really gets him by surprise. also motivated by seeing his partner flustered and needy.

no -> blood play. he’s seen too much shit to want that, and he’d be scared of actually hurting someone.

oral -> shota’s a thigh man, what do you think? 🤨 he’d live between your thighs if you let him. he also enjoys receiving quite a bit, but that’s more related to the oral fixation kink than him being crazy about getting head.

pace -> it changes day to day. many days he’s rough; fast or slow depends on what he’s/you’re feeling at the time. he can be more sensual from time to time if he’s feeling particularly loving/affectionate.

quickie -> he can make it work if you’re okay with a sting and a big stretch. occasionally it’s fun, but not something he usually goes for.

risk -> he’ll try new things if you’re interested in something. may not always think of new things on his own, but he’ll be open about what he truly wants to try once he trusts you enough.

stamina -> he’ll cum once or twice before he’s done, but he lasts a while - to the point where it’s almost frustrating for him. outside of that, he’ll edge or pull as many orgasms out of you as he damn well pleases, and you’re gonna take it.

toys -> shota owns a small, select amount of sex toys he uses on his partner and some for himself. might expand his collection based on partner preferences. bonus some of his “toys” are more of “kink equipment” than sex toys (spreader bar, cuffs, rope, ball gag, high powered wand, etc.), but he also has a small number of plugs and dildos.

unfair -> ask shota how much he likes to tease, and i’m sure you’ll find out. (hint: it’s a lot.) may or may not be into edging and denial, i can’t decide.

volume -> he’s not loud, per se, but he’s pretty vocal. lots of groans, growls, grunts. will talk more if he knows that’s smth you’re into, but otherwise he doesn’t usually say a lot.

wild card -> he likes having his ass played with. dom!shota likes telling his partner to use toys on him and talking them through it.

x ray -> i stand by these hcs, so i won’t go into too much detail here. his clothing hides a lot. his body is strong. he’s not overly lean. he’s got a perfect pretty dick that’s big and a softie you wanna snuggle up to.

yearning -> fairly high sex drive; he’d fuck you five days a week if he had the time and energy, but he’s pretty busy so it’s often less than that. he probably wouldn’t say no to you getting him off or hopping on top, though.

zzz -> unless there’s a shower involved (usually there is), he’s out like a light in minutes. better move quick, or you’ll be stuck in the vice grip of a sleepy cuddle monster before you even get a chance to take a piss.

come get ur mans @dcsiremc.

[wrestletotheground]

settle down - ross macdonald x reader

summary: you and ross are staying in your old house with your family for the weekend, but you find it hard to keep quiet when everyone's asleep...

wc: 1.9k

cw: 18+ minors dni!!! f!reader, angst, fluff, smut, dom!ross, 'good girl', fingering, gagging, slight degradation, choking kink, d word bc i can't help myself, spit, general filth tbh x

'i can't believe i'm actually about to sleep in the bed you grew up in,' ross says, shaking his head in disbelief as he pulls off his tshirt, climbing into bed beside you. 'I can't believe you've spent the day with my insane parents and are willing to stay here for two whole nights', you reply with a giggle.

your parents had been tormenting you to have him over for dinner ever since you moved in together a month ago, claiming you were both in need of a decent meal and a break from dirty dishes.

you'd finally agreed to go back and stay for the weekend. obviously ross got on well with your family as they'd met countless times before, but having him stay over, sleeping in your childhood room, feels daunting. as if it's the final layer he has to go through to know every part of you inside and out.

your parents are well asleep by now, having gone upstairs just before you and ross. with the emptiness in the living room, you'd straddled his lap, grinding into him softly as you littered kisses down his neck.

his heavy breathing was an indicator of how worked up he was getting, although it was less sexual and more passionate, a simple display of your love for each other. shortly after, you'd both gone up to get ready for bed, lovesick and giggly.

~

darkness floods the room with a click as you turn off the old pink lamp beside your bed.

'goodnight baby,' you say to ross as he presses a loving kiss to your temple. 'night sweetheart,' he murmurs, letting his hand fall down to your stomach as he settles his head into the pillow beside you. the warmth of his body is comforting and strong beside you, but your thoughts are elsewhere.

a wave of intense emotion starts to take over as you lie awake staring at the ceiling, your mind racing. the nostalgia of being in the room you grew up in is making your head flood with memories of long sleepless nights spent in this exact place. many a night were filled with tears and hopelessness, going through things no young girl should ever even have to think about. you're doing so much better now, having created a new life and a new home for yourself with your perfect fiancé. your eyes brim with fresh tears as you lie mourning the lost teenager that once sat here. you wish you could give her a hug and tell her that it truly does get better.

you take a deep breath to calm yourself, before shakily placing your hand over ross's, needing him close to you. the feeling of him beside you relaxes you, it always does. you can't help the flutter of arousal that runs through you at the pressure of his hand weighing down on your lower abdomen.

his eyes open suddenly, flicking up towards you. you didn't even think he was still awake with how sleepy he'd been only moments beforehand. you snap your eyes shut, as if that would trick him.

'baby, are you okay? what's wrong?' he asks sleepily. he props himself up on his elbow and brings a hand to your face to caress your cheek gently.

you turn to face him. 'yeah, I'm just- it's okay, don't worry, I'll be fine. just need you close to me'. 'darling, what's up? talk to me'. his voice is laced with concern and you silently curse his ability to read you like a book at all times.

'I was just.. thinking about how happy I am now, compared to how it was when I was younger. I used to think I was- I don't know, broken. but everything has gotten better since I met you, and not to be too sappy but I'm so glad I get to make happier memories here with the love of my life'.

'god you're making me emotional too, love,' he smiles and kisses you gently. 'I love you, and im so glad we found each other.' you look into his eyes adoringly and smile. 'i love you too', you reply.

you settle down into each other, ross lying on his side with his arm across you. the ache between your legs is still there, but you decide to close your eyes and try get some sleep.

until his hand begins to rub up and down your thigh, inching further and further up with each stroke before he rests it on your hip, fingertips rubbing in light circular motions dangerously close to where you need him.

you need him to fuck you so badly, but the risk of being heard is so high. you know you wouldn't be able to control yourself with the way you melt into him as he worships you.

'mmh ross, we can't, not here', you mumble, instinctively leaning into his touch despite your words. 'why not?' he asks, smirking up at you as he presses light kisses down your neck. 'i want to but my parents are next door, the walls in this house are like paper.'

he lifts his head up, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear. 'well you'll have to be quiet then won't you, love?' he whispers, dipping his hand under the waistband of your underwear. you exhale sharply as his fingers graze over your clit, instantly making you wet. 'fuck,' you breathe, squeezing your thighs in around his hand. 'ah ah, you're gonna take it like a good girl aren't you?' he says softly, grabbing your leg closest to him and pulling it up over his to give him more access.

you writhe under him as his two middle fingers continue to swipe lazily up and down, stopping suddenly. 'aren't you?' he says again, his eyes stern. 'yes- mmh- i'll be good,' you whimper desperately, earning a grunt of approval. 'there we go, relax darling, let me look after you', he replies.

the endless band posters and picture frames that cover the walls seem to be watching on in silent judgement, making you hyper aware of where you are. to be honest, the immorality and risk of it all is just making you more turned on, more desperate for him than ever.

he traces your soaked entrance teasingly before slipping his middle finger in to the knuckle, making you gasp, your back arching into him. 'shh, you said you'd be good,' he mutters, curling his finger inside you and stroking upwards. your eyes roll into your head at the heavenly sensation.

he doesn't waste time before adding another and you can't help the sound that spills from your throat, louder than you expected. he stills inside you, your slick dripping down his fingers. your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his eyes, looking down at you with a heavy gaze.

'if you're not quiet I'll give you something to whine about and we don't want that do we?' he's practically growling at you, making you like putty in his hands. 'n-no, please, daddy' you whine under your breath. the magic word. his breath hitches and his eyes roll back into his head. 'fuck, there's my girl', he whispers, his eyes snapping back to yours instantly.

with that, he starts moving in and out, dipping his fingers in as deep as they can go and drawing them back again in quick, fluid motions. obscene sounds break the silence of the room, barely noticeable above the haze of pleasure taking over your body.

your walls pulse around him, enhancing the feeling even more. he throws his right leg up over yours, holding your legs open for him. he curls his fingers inside you, using his thumb at the same time to press into your clit, hard. you have to hold your breath to suppress the scream that's lingering in the back of your throat, coming out in a pathetic barely audible whimper as you exhale.

his other hand creeps around the back of your head, never slowing his rhythm between your thighs. he reaches your mouth and covers it tightly with his whole palm, muffling any more noises you would've let out. suddenly he shoves three digits into your mouth, making you gag as they hit the back of your throat. you close your lips around them and start sucking, swirling your tongue around and coating him in spit, never breaking eye contact. he groans softly, flashbacks filling his mind of how your mouth feels around his cock.

your mouth hangs open as he hits the deep part inside you and your eyebrows furrow, hips bucking into his hand in time with his movements. he's fucking you hard and fast, pinning you to the mattress.

'ross, I can't - mfh- fuck, i'm -' you start, although it comes out muffled and strained around his fingers that are still deep in your mouth. the vibration of your voice goes straight through his hand, the sensation making him feral.

'one more fucking word from you and you're never going to finish do you hear me?' he whispers aggressively, eyes stern. you nod your head in silent response, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

he takes his fingers out of your mouth, dragging his soaked hand down to your neck and presses in on either side just below your jaw, all the while his fingers are working you to your core. you bite your lip as you gaze up at him, completely at his mercy and loving every second of it.

he reaches a particularly deep spot inside you that makes your stomach coil. your head is spinning, face scrunched up in excruciating pleasure, on the brink of the peak you've been desperately chasing as his strokes get quicker and more precise.

'please...' it's barely a whisper, more of a breathy plea for him to let you come. 'let go. let me fucking feel you all over me. pretty. little. slut.' each word is punctuated by a hard thrust into you, the final one sending you over the edge.

your vision turns to white and you clasp a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming, your hips rolling into his hand as you ride out your high. his hand that's now drenched, warm honey dripping down onto his palm.

you exhale sharply as he pulls his fingers out, bringing them up in front of you and spreading the two middle ones that were curling inside you moments ago. a wet string of your arousal connects them at the knuckle and you watch him dazedly. he drags them almost reluctantly towards his mouth, as if he didn't want to stop looking, and runs his tongue up the wide v shape, collecting your juices into his mouth.

it's a filthy sight that leaves you awestruck. he smirks at you as you lie gazing at him, being broken out of your lustful trance when he leans in to kiss you. as soon as your lips part his mouth is hovering above yours as he taps your jaw lightly. you open your mouth wider and he takes his chance to slowly spit into your mouth. the taste of the two of you is warm and feral and addictive.

he whispers again, breath ghosting over your lips. 'good girl'. you're too flustered to respond with words, so you slide your hand up around the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss. tongues moving languidly against each other. it's loving and soft, a stark contrast to what he was like moments ago, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

~

[pawnshopbleus]

hi! i was wondering if you could do a corio x plinth reader where he aproches her bc she is a plinth (and she notices and gets mad bc she think that corio takes her for a stupid girl who would just fall for his lies) but he slowly falls for her. i would really like if it ends well, like them together. i hope you understood my idea, i love your work btw.

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

coriolanus snow x fem!plinth!reader

summary - basically what the request says, but there is no happy ending because i'm evil.

contains - angst, the capital being described as beautiful, gold-digging, rude coriolanus, not beta read

author's note - i'm so sorry @simpovereveryone for the unhappy ending, but i feel like once someone finds out you originally wanted to date them for their money there is no coming back. originally, this was going to be a happy ending, but I just couldn't write one that felt natural and real. if you want, I can do a happy Coriolanus later, but there is no happy ending in this one.

IT was no secret that Strabo Plinth’s daughter was in love. It was the only thing people would talk about at the Academy. In between each Hunger Games, Capitol citizens were bored. Gossip would spread like a wildfire. They didn’t know how to keep a secret. 

Coriolanus knew that you liked him. It was obvious to anyone that had two working eyes. The way that your eyes would follow him wherever he went, and how your back would straighten every time he walked by was evidence enough that you had a crush on the blonde boy. 

Coriolanus was flattered, really, but he just wasn’t one to date. Many girls have tried and failed at dating him. None piqued his interest. He found that most pretty Capiol girls were dumb and had no interest beyond their physical appearance. They also lacked what he needed most, money. 

Coriolanus wanted to continue his education at the University after the Academy. He needed to keep a roof over his, Tigris, and Grandma’ams head, or he would have failed as a cousin and a grandson. Those necessities don’t come cheap after a war, no matter how long ago the war was. 

And then he heard the news. Some new students were chatting during lunch. His name and yours got thrown around, and after some intense staring at his apple, he heard what they were talking about. Your little schoolgirl crush on Coriolanus, and that was confirmation enough. 

Then there you were, sitting in all your glory. 

Being the one and only daughter in the Plinth family made you susceptible to fake people. Always after your money and status, but they will talk about you behind your back. Coriolanus has heard it all. He needed to outsmart the many and study the few that made it to your inner circle. Just because you already had a crush on him meant nothing if he didn’t have a good enough reason to chase after you. 

Your red school uniform mixed in with the rest of the crowd, but your face was what drew him in. It was so different, unconventional, and beautiful. The unconventionality of your face made him want to paint a picture of you from memory. You were unique, which he liked. This won’t be too bad, Coriolanus said in his head. 

Your tired eyes met his and he didn’t look away. The bags under your eyes accentuated the fact that you couldn’t sleep last night. The thunder crashing outside of your window was probable cause to keep you awake. 

Coriolanus got up from his chair and stocked towards you. His stride was purposeful, guiding through clumps of students gathered around the room. He sat across from you and said nothing as he studied your tired expression. It was weird that your brother's friend and your crush were sitting across from you all of a sudden. You were in no way ready to talk to him right now. 

“Did you want me to tell Sejanus something?” was all you could manage to ask. Your brain was begging you to ask more. Why are you here? How is your family? Do you think I’m crazy for liking you, even though we’ve never had an actual conversation? But your mouth stayed shut, which saved you from a boatload of embarrassment. 

Coriolanus smiled. His teeth were imperfectly imperfect. A natural color, not too white, but not too yellow. His right front tooth was slightly crooked, giving his teeth personality. 

“No, I came here to talk to you.”

Your brows furrowed for a second. Why in the world would he want to talk to me? Besides being the sister of his friend, you had nothing going on for yourself. There were far prettier girls that he could talk to. You weren’t all that traversed in philosophy and classic books like he was. You were just…you. 

Your lips pressed together in a small line and then returned to normal after a second. You couldn’t form coherent words right now. You nodded your head at the boy in front of you and looked across the room, not ready to make eye contact with him at the present moment. Students talked and whispered with each other as they took in the scene. Coriolanus Snow talking to the girl that had a crush on him. Many girls who had tried to date him in the past narrowed their eyes at you. 

You had not noticed that the room was almost silent, save for the whispers of the nosey students. Coriolanus kept repeating your name, trying to break you out of your trance. You liked the way your name rolled off his tongue. An unlimited amount of syllables were repeated over and over again in his baritenor voice. 

“What?” you ask as you are broken out of your trance. 

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” he answered your question with another. 

This seemed too good to be true. The boy you’ve had a crush on for years had just asked you out for seemingly no reason. Either whatever higher power in the sky was on your side, or this was one huge prank. Either way, you agreed. 

˖ ࣪ . 🦢 ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

You stood in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of your room. The baby pink silk slip dress you were wearing used to belong to your mother. She had given it to you two years ago in hopes that you would wear it. She hoped that you would wear it on a date with a nice boy. That’s exactly what you were doing, but there were two problems. The first problem was that you were nothing like your brother, outgoing and outspoken. You preferred to keep to yourself, and if you had to socialize, you would do it with the handful of friends you had. The second problem was that it was two years later. The dress no longer draped beautifully around you like it did when you were younger. It clung to every curve, crevice, and roll you had on your body. You were lucky that the dress still zipped up. You studied yourself in the mirror, going from the tip top of your head down to your painted toenails. At least it looked like you had enough money to be well-fed and groomed. 

Coriolanus was taking you to a new rooftop restaurant. The women in your mother's book club raved on and on about how elegant and regal the vibes in that restaurant felt. They also recounted how hard it is to get a reservation. For a new restaurant, it seemed pretty picky with its patrons. 

He picked you up around six. The sun had already set and a chill breeze kissed your skin, causing goosebumps to rise on the bare skin of your arms. Coriolanus kept you close to him, placing a strong hand on the small of your back. His hand was cold, causing you to shiver. 

The reviews were right. The restaurant was beautiful. The entire place was lit using nothing but candles. They lined the tables with pristine white cloth. There were other details of the restaurant that were otherworldly, but the view of the Capital made you swoon. With Coriolanus long forgotten, your eyes lit up at all the lights and such that outlined every building and street. You had forgotten how beautiful the Capital was at night. Your heart panged with gratefulness at being able to experience this even though you weren’t born here. 

Coriolanus studied you once again. The city lights flashed and shone across your body, accentuating the way your skin looked. It looked soft, almost perfect. Nothing was ever perfect. 

“So, Sejanus told me you like to paint,” Coriolanus commented, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

Your eyes broke away from the shining lights and back to the companion in front of you. “Yes,” you simply said. 

The simplicity of your words made Coriolanus fix his hand into a fist under the table. He was doing you a favor! You were the one who had a crush on him, not the other way around. He couldn’t say anything, though. He had to remind himself why he was doing this. Flashes of images passed through his mind. They all had one thing in common; they were dear to him - the only things he loved. That was the reason why he was here. He needed the money that was attached to you. 

“What do you like to paint?” The food that he ordered for the two of you was being placed down on the table. He ordered steak and potatoes with a side of steamed vegetables.

You are a vegetarian. 

Everyone knew you were vegetarian. You loved animals and couldn’t fathom eating a living animal. You didn’t judge people who ate meat. Everyone was free to live the lifestyle they wanted and you choose to live a meatless lifestyle.

“Why did you ask me out on a date?” you questioned the boy in front of you who was currently eating his food like a starved man. Which he was. He barely had enough money to pay rent, let alone pay for this meal…

That’s why he asked you on a date - for your money. You’ve lived your entire life having to question whether or not someone wanted to be your friend. Your last name followed you everywhere you went. There was nothing shameful about your family, but you hated having fake people around you. It was literal hell. 

Of course, Coriolanus didn’t like you. He just needed your money. You scoffed at him and didn’t even let him finish as you sprinted out of the restaurant, leaving him confused and with no way to pay. 

It’s safe to say that Coriolanus is never welcomed back. 

[saltylandland]

Random Lost Boys NSFW Headcanons Pt2

Pt 1 here

Dwayne loves shibari (Japanese bondage), the way he comes across it is incredibly random, especially considering it’s the 80’s. In my mind, reader wants to explore some unique bookstores that caught their eye and Dwayne was the only one willing to take them at the time. I swear, you took your eyes off of him for one second and somehow it’s already in his hands, flipping onto page 52.

The others can appreciate the aesthetic and results, but they’re not interested in the process or the sensuality of the process.

I can almost see David getting into it, especially for the control it gives him and the inherent trust you have to have in him, but I think he’d quickly lose patience with the intricate knots, wanting to see you writhing in pleasure with simple bondage to keep you in place.

It’s very popular to write the boys as poly, or with all of them dating the reader, but in reality reader MUST drink a lot of water bc in some sort of way all of the boys overstimulate their partner whether on purpose or it’s bc they have more stamina as vamps. Also fucking just one of them? Near impossible. They come as a package deal and you’ll have to satiate at least 2 of them considering they’re rarely seen separately.

In some sort of way all the boys have a dacryphilia kink (crying kink), they all like it when you cry bc pleasure/overstimulation, but both David and Marko like it when you tear up due to frustration. Usually bc of their relentless teasing. Dwayne likes the aftermath of that teasing, being the ‘good one’ and wiping your tears as if he didn’t watch the others tease the shit out of you. And Paul likes it when it’s tears of embarrassment.

They’d 100% use their powers on their partner during sex, David usually sending the most filthy scenarios to play in the forefront of your mind while out in public.

Something I made up in my ‘every good girl needs a creepy vamp’ fic that I really like, is Paul (or even one of the other boys/all of them) can make phantom sensations like hands groping your body through your clothes, yep, still in public. It’s like one of those remote controlled vibes but 10x more intense.

Speaking of that, all of them have no shame. It really depends on your comfort level and that’s the only thing that will stop them from fucking out in the open.

I like the Headcanons of a) the boys get excited from drinking blood, b) the boys go into heat from the full moon, or c) go feral over their partner’s period (if they get them) but also,,, rip your ass if all 3 of those happen

Maybe I’ll do a pt 3 someday, I want to include star but I have to build up some characterization first.

[v3nusxsky]

Hello love your writing :))

I wanted to ask if you could write a story either about Larissa or Lucifer, they need to punish their partner and they use „longterm“ denial over a whole weekend and reader is just yearning for release after the weekend and Larissa/Lucifer gets soft after the fulfilled punishment and give them the best orgasm ever :)) you can involve other punishment methods as well :) but some cute fluff and praise at the end would be great :) thank you 🔥🥰

Be my good doll 18+

*Authors note~ i choose Larissa purely bc I don’t feel I can write lucifer well but may I highly suggest my darling friend @littledollll who will be able to handle a luci version <3*

Trigger warnings~ long term orgasm denial, mommy kink daddy kink shifted cock oral very smutty smut

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

For the past two days all you could think of was her. No one but you would’ve been brave enough to be a brat towards the headmistress of Nevermore, and that’s why you landed up being tied to the bed, a ruthless vibe working diligently between your legs as Larissa watched on. Her intense gaze at your leaking cunt truly should’ve made you feel embarrassed but it was having the opposite effect. Larissa would bring you right to the edge only to rip you away from it. If you wanted to act like a whore then you’d certainly be treated like one.

Larissa did this till your brain was nothing but a pile of mush, your whines of need being strictly ignored as your cunt clenched against thin air. “If you want to act like a whore doll then mommy will treat you like one” she all but purred at you, laughing slightly as a few stray tears fell from your eyes, “now now pretty dolls don’t cry, you brought this all on yourself. You’re not to touch or cum until mommy lets you, understood?” Truly her tone alone was leaving no room for any kind of arguments, you nodded and attempted to gain control over your emotions. You knew you could safe word, but this was a punishment and safe wording just to avoid it was wrong. Larissa untied you and cradled you in her lap, wrapping their arms tightly around you in comfort.

That was two days ago, you were feeling like you’d explode if you’re honest. Nothing you did would quell the burning pit of need within you. You need her to fuck you until your brain was nothing but mush. Larissa didn’t make things easy, every night she mad the habit of teasing you, making sure you thought your punishment was at the end before fucking herself right in front of you, fully on display with ample amount of sound, almost as if she was trying to get you to fail your punishment. You wouldn’t. You shouldn’t t. And you most definitely couldn’t.

Two whole days, you were near enough exploding with need, that’s when you came back into your shared chambers to find your lover in a new lacy set bought specifically for your eyes only. You tried to keep your gaze on her face, you couldn’t allow yourself to fail here. Looking like an angel from heaven she crooked her index finger seductively, her gaze anything innocent, a complete contrast to her Lacy white set. “Mommy?” You whined, your need more evident than you wanted it to be. “Oh my doll, you’ve taken your punishment so well darling. Mommy is so proud of you that she wanted to give you a special treat. Do you like it?” She purred gesturing to her hardly clothed body. “Yes mommy. Thank you” you choked out finally allowing your gaze to run all over her body.

You knew how this would go, Larissa would follow the same routine as any other punishment, it’s something that calmed you. You instantly kneeled next to the bed and looked at your lover, “I’m sorry mommy. I won’t be bratty again in that way. I’m only mommy’s girl I’d never stray” you whimper and you see the way her eyes darken at the last part. “Say it again doll” she teased and you instantly complied. “So you can be a good girl” she mused as if it was the first time, “get up here doll, you know what you need to do to show mommy just how sorry you are.”

After climbing up on the bed, watching Larissa shuffle back into the pillows you gave her a sweet kiss. As the kids deepened the need grew but you knew she had to cum first, to show how truly sorry you were. Larissa allowed you to take her set off piece by piece as you showered her with love and kisses. Only when you made your way down your body did she bring a hand to your hair and tug your head upwards, “mouth only my sweet doll” she warned before allowing you to continue.

When your breath hit her core she gasped, truly the two day punishment was driving her just a mad as you. When your tongue swiped at the wetness there you saw Larissa could’ve cried. You knew just how to please her. Her hands gripping the headboard and her bucking her hips against your face, practically fucking herself on your face, she was able to approach a very much needed climax. When you felt her legs tremble you knew she was close so you gripped onto her hips hard enough to bruise as you guided her movements and moaned around her sensitive clit. With a cry from the older woman you rewarded with a gush of cum from her pretty pussy as it spasmed around your tongue, you making sure to get every last drop.

She caught her breath before managing to move from your face, chuckling at you as your tongue darted around to get any remaining cum it could. “Look at the little cum slut. Are you needy precious girl?” She purred trailing her fingers lightly over your body. “Mommy need so bad” you mumbled trying to stop your voice from quivering as badly as your thighs were. You watched as Larissa surprised you by shifting her female anatomy to male. Truly, the sight was nothing short of magnificent. “Oh fuck mommy? Daddy? Oh fuck” you whined confused on what your girlfriend would prefer.

“Either baby, I don’t mind just pick one” she murmured answering your unasked question. “Daddy please” you whimpered eyeing her cock. “Are you sorry doll?” You whimpered watching her stroke her impressive length, “I’m sorry daddy, I won’t do it again” you pleaded and she could see the truth lingering in your eyes. “I know doll, you took your punishment well baby” she reassured you while lining her cock up with your leaking hole. “Doll, I’m going fuck you okay? It’s a little bigger than the toys because it’s more realistic. I don’t want to hurt you baby. You remember safe word?” She truly meant this. “Yes daddy. It’s red” you stated and she nodded before pushing her length into you slowly.

Tears prickled at your eyes, your inner walls stretching around her even though she stilled her hips allowing you to adjust. “Daddy” you whimpered as a few stray tears fell. “You’re doing so good for me doll, such a good girl for me” she kissed the tears away. Soon enough pain morphed into pleasure and you subconsciously your hips bucked upwards causing your girlfriend to chuckle, “such a needy girl for daddy aren’t you? “

When she started to move, you truly wondered if anything would feel as good as her inside of you. Actually her and not some plastic fake dick. “Oh god doll, so tight for me. Fuck so warm and wet doll, making daddy feel so good” she panted out her, the thrusting of her hips and moans tumbling from her lips stealing her breath. All you could do was whine and mewl at the sensations she provided as you came close to your peak embarrassingly quick. “Daddy please I can’t I need” you whimpered your train of thought jumping around manically. “I know doll let go” she murmured coming to kiss and such on your pulse point. You came with a scream of her name, your cunt squeezing her cock in its vice tight grip as your cum coated it and leaked slightly onto the sheets.

You thought she’d stop there, but she didn’t, she kept fucking you despite the whimpers of “no please daddy no sensitive” you were repeating. “Come on doll give daddy one more” she all but moaned out. And that’s what you did, you came again, squeezing her dick as she spurted cum up into your needy cunt causing an almost pornographic moan to tumble from your lips. And the sensation of peeing ? That was new. “Isa? What oh god did I pee?!” The panic rising through you. “No darling, you squirted love, it’s okay it’s perfectly natural and now I know you can do it I’m going to have so much fun with you” she murmured eyes seemingly transfixed on your sensitive core.

You flopped back against the bed and held an arm over your eyes, “god I’m so embarrassed!” You whined causing Larissa to chuckle at you, “it’s okay baby. Let me change the sheets and then me and my good girl can have a bath can’t we.” A quick kiss placed on your lips as she set about running a bath and changing the sheets, just letting you have your space to come back down to earth. That was one hell of a reward.

Word count~ 1598

[storm-priestess]

▪°•○♡ DETAILS ON YOUR NEXT ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP ♡○•°▪

(all pictures taken from weheartit)

○ Pile 1 ○

this person challenges you career-wise, as well as regarding your self worth

they will make you question why you let others treat you like shit, most likely at work, school, or in friendships

I'm getting that they give you pep talks, hype you up and remind you that you deserve to be respected and loved

very power couple vibes, albeit not super romantic, there's a lot of affection here

they'll support you through all the late nights stuck at the library or working overtime, cheering you on

this is extremely sweet :')

they like sending you messages when you're apart, letting you know that they're thinking of you <3

I can't get over how powerful this is, they truly help you see your inner light. whether this relationship lasts or not, you'll carry their influence with you forever and will never regret the time you spent with them, if only bc they helped you climb out of a dark space

they really, really care about your well-being, almost forcefully

VERY mulan and li shang vibe, although I get the sense you're a bit more nervous and self critical than mulan was in the movie

they're just so invested in you knowing your worth, it's beautiful

○ Pile 2 ○

whirlwind romance vibe, but I feel like your intentions are a bit mismatched. one of you is more interested in the romance and intrigue of it all, the other just a fun time

this could be on-and-off again, with one of you clinging onto the relationship a bit more emotionally than the other

a tendency to cling onto the other, trying to coerce them into putting more of themselves into the connection

regardless, this is a really fun time you guys have

towards the end things may get a little messy, but alongside the bomb sex the spontaneity permeates the rest of the relationship and you guys genuinely enjoy one another's company

I feel like it starts rather abruptly, and hinges on physical attraction to get the ball rolling. then you start texting, meeting up for casual dates/sex, etc, and then one of you catches a bit more intense feelings… (the other is still invested, just maybe not as… obsessed might be too strong of a word, but you get what I mean)

it does seem a bit unbalanced, but if you're honest about what you want out of the relationship you have a stronger chance of getting it. I do see evidence of effort coming from both sides to keep the relationship going, so hopefully you guys can find a peaceful balance that satisfies both of your needs

○ Pile 3 ○

this feels very different from the first two piles… I think this is more for just one person, or a small group of you. it feels like a personal reading

you're the enigmatic one in your friend group. you do what you want to do and are so charismatic that others follow you (not in a cultish way lol, they just love the fun that you incite. it's very sweet)

you've recently moved on from an ex or a crush that you pursued and their rejection bruised your ego a bit. you've just about recollected the rest of your diminished spark and are setting out anew, possibly determined to focus on yourself from now on

but you're met with a bunch of options… you've gained a lot of romantic attention and people are starting to come forward, or at least flirt a lil bit, shoot their shot, slide into dms, whatever

you're just focusing on your friends for now tho, no intentions of jumping right into a romantic relationship….

but it finds you. you don't even have to try

some of you… may realize things about your sexuality. you're attracted to a wider variety of people. that, and/or one of your close friends starts to look mighty interesting…

this is a deep connection. not just a fling or a gateway into discovering the depth of your sexuality, but a really beautiful pairing that means a lot to both of you

you might be at a party and drunkenly kiss your friend, only to laugh about it and carry on

but it becomes less funny later on

you won't be able to stop thinking about it

either that, or you're just hanging out with your friends and have a realization

regardless, this catches you completely off guard

this is really, really special

there's a lot more under the surface here, but it's not for me to convey. things are meant to unfold naturally from here on out. you also probably won't be able to get anymore information on this from other sources (pacs, youtube vids, etc). it feels a bit like the universe is wiping the dirt off their hands and being like 'there. I told you. figure the rest out yourself.'

take it one day at a time guys <3 everything will work out fine

[blubushie]

Hey Blu! I just saw one of your old asks on how the mercs designs are good because they look like normal everyday people you can see out on the streets. And that just reminded me of my favorite tropes in fanfic that I don't see that much in today's TF2 fics which the mercs have an uncanniness to them because of their regular looks. Like I remembered it popped up more often in the fics that where publish when I was in high school. Not complaining bc I just appreciate it more when it pops up. Like there's a ficlet still circulating here where while in jail, before comic 2 happens, Scout basicly beats up most of the inmates in jail for ciggs for Spy. It sets up how intimidating Scout is when an inmate twice Scouts size couldn't even move him and how the inmate was jarring reminded that despite his size, Scout is One of the infamous 9 mercenaries.

Like bc of this trope I developed headcanons that the mercs are actually the closest things to super soldiers bc of 1.) Constant fighting/training 2.) Mad science/experimentation of Medic 3.) Respawn keeping them at near top shape/slow aging. So regular looking guys + intense fighting near daily + mad science/magic + random weird shenanigans that happens to them = an uncanniness and uneasiness around the mercs in public when they move in away /do stuff no average person can do or is expected to do of their appearance.

Sorry if this makes no sense it's 7:14am and I literally JUST woke up, do not expect lucidity from me yet

I love this shit and it features slightly in my fic, both in Jesse's fighting ability but also Mundy's. Primarily it's Mundy's—he gets in more fistfights in the fic than Jesse (though not for her lack of aggression).

I don't think RESPAWN would do much via muscle training—every time they die, any muscle progression is just reset. So the physically strongest of the mercs would be those that don't die often. Heavy, because of his health bar, and maybe Medic, because everyone protects him (and he lugs around the Medigun which must weigh a fucken tonne). This is supported a little by Medic outright lifting Soldier off his feet in Expiration Date.

But there's gotta be some shit they're feeding those cunts if Spy can one-handed fire his stock revolver, a .357 Colt Python; the Big Kill, a S&W Model 29 .44; and the Ambassador, a Dan Wesson PPC .357 (THAT WEIGHS 3.6kg MIND YOU—ALMOST AS MUCH AS MY RIFLE WITHOUT HER SCOPE). This is without mentioning that the Russian translation of the Sniper VS Spy update states that the Ambassador actually fires .50AE like it's a fucken Deagle. Spy's grip strength must be INSANE.

Mostly though I reckon it's mental fortitude over physical. Believe me, you train harder in combat situations than ACTUAL training scenarios because trauma makes shit stick in your brain better. You learn lessons when there's risk better than when there's no risk involved. And with often the mercs die and engage each other physically, I'm fully on the boat of "they look normal, but they're not".

The freakier is that I think they actually blend very well into public environments. Sometimes Sniper walks to the shops in SST minus the thongs and looks like any other bloke off the street you'd see at a servo. Sometimes Scout goes in to the local diner for their all-you-can-eat chicken and waffles deal. Sometimes Engie visits the local tack shop "just for a look around", Soldier and Demo go fishing together, Medic goes to the pharmacy and looking at any of them you'd never suspect a thing.

They all have an almost uncanny ability to look like they entirely belong whereever they are and blend into their environment, so really the only time you even get a hint that they aren't your average person is when there's a situation where they need to showcase their skills. Scout catches a flyball while walking past the local baseball field practically without looking and tosses it back. Soldier can jump down stairs while in a rush and stick the landing with no injury. Demo recognises the sulphur of a gas leak before anyone else can smell it. Spy can lift things his scrawny frame shouldn't be able to lift, Engie can notice any shimmer or shiny thing regardless how small, Sniper has a hawk's eyes and can pick out movement from a half a click away in the dark where other people just see black.

Their jobs have made them very effective professionals—it's a pity the general public so rarely gets to see it.

[kyriethesquishysquid]

Betrayal Never Felt So Good (König/Fem!Reader) Chapter 4

You can find Chapter 1 here, Chapter 2 here, Chapter 3 here, Chapter 5 here, and Chapter 6 here!

Word count: ~6

Rating: Mature

A/N: A bit of a filler chapter but it's adding pertinent info to the story, I promise! Some use of Y/N and Y/L/N. Some smut, feels, and story progression! Reader is still morally grey and morally questionable; a delulu girly, if you will. Reader has trauma that will be expanded upon later. Continued COD and military inaccuracies galore. Brief mentions of our beloved 141!

TW: Smut! Mutual masturbation, exhibitionism/voyeurism, dom/sub tones. Reader reflects a little on her trauma from Daniel. Reader tries to trust people and make new friends! Pet names (in English and German), bad German translations bc I’m STILL a lame monolingual American, and STILL no beta because we die like jackass Graves.

Crappy Translations:

Maus - Mouse

Mein schatz - My darling

Meine leibling - My love

Süßes mädchen- Sweet girl

Scheiße - Shit

Ja, das ist ein gutes Mädchen. Lass mich dich hören - Ja, that’s a good girl. Let me hear you.

Da ist mein wunderschöner Liebling - There is my beautiful love.

You were gonna be sick. You just knew it. Commander Graves’ stare was too much to handle, and yet you knew you had no other choice. The only other option was to give in, condemn both yourself and König to prison or death with the truth, and you refused to do that. You just had to trust in König’s plan, no matter how questionable.

“I’m sure, sir,” you replied, trying to keep your voice from shaking, “The last I saw was him going back into the bar.”

Graves’ tapped his pen on the table, his expression as unreadable as ever, before sitting up in his chair to lean over the desk. His intensity was overwhelming, making your heartbeat loud enough you were almost sure he could hear it too.

“Ya don’t have to be scared here, Y/N. This ain’t an interrogation. I’m just tryin’ ta get the facts about Carter before we call it.”

For the first time since that night, guilt licked the insides of your belly. Deserter. First, you’d allowed König to kill him and hide the body, and now you were willing to let his name be dragged through the mud, to allow his family to hear the worst about him when he wasn’t even alive to fight for himself. Fuck, but the lengths you would go through to protect König, just as he’d been protecting you for the better part of a year. It was honestly terrifying and made you question things about yourself that you’d never thought of before. Were you really as good of a person as you thought you were, as you tried to be, if you were willing to do all of this? Probably not.

“I understand, sir, I just kind of feel like I’ve been called into the principal’s office at school,” you joked quietly.

That brought a little smile to his face. Man, if he weren’t such a toxic fucker, he’d be pretty attractive. Too bad he was a righteous prick.

“That’s fair. Well, thank you for your time, Y/L/N. If I could just get you to sign this document here statin’ that you stand by your statement as the truth and allow for it to be used as necessary for legalities,” he sighed, pushing the paper and pen in your direction.

With a deep breath, you snagged up the pen and signed your name with a flourish. There it was, your deceit finalized in ink for all to see. It was to protect König, not for yourself, you kept repeating in your mind. It’s all for König. Anything for König.

“Am I good to go then, sir?” you asked with a forced smile.

“Actually, I have one more thing for you,” Graves replied, lifting a finger as he opened his desk drawer, “These… are papers of all the tasks I need you to go over with your trainer. After the last… episode, it’s become abundantly clear that you’re in dire need of a refresher course on the basics. Can’t have our best medic dying because she doesn’t know how to protect herself, hmm?”

You had to bite your tongue from giving a sassy reply and instead took the papers with a nod.

Looking over the pages, you asked curiously, “Who’s my trainer?”

“You’ll be workin’ with Private Declan every day, 1700 to 1900 after your normal shift until he feels you are well-equipped for future missions,” he explained, “Not havin’ ya do anythin’ too crazy so it shouldn’t take too long to complete, probably two weeks, give or take.”

Declan. The name sounded familiar. Hopefully he wasn’t one of Daniel’s close friends or things would end up real awkward real quick.

“Got it.”

“You’re dismissed,” Graves commented as he leaned back in his seat.

You couldn’t get back to your room fast enough, eager to be sheltered safe away from Graves’ intimidating stare. As soon as you were in your room, you dug your phone out and sent a quick text to König.

‘Hey love, you free to talk?’

You knew there was a chance he’d be busy or even have possibly been sent out on a mission since this morning, but it didn’t hurt to check. While you waited for his reply, you got changed from your scrubs into a comfortable pair of pajamas. You were debating on if you wanted to go through your rigorous skincare routine or just pass out when your phone started ringing.

Eagerly launching yourself onto the mattress, you quickly slid the green button when you saw König’s name pop up on the screen.

“Hi!” you said, a little too excitedly.

God, way to sound like a loser, Y/N. Could you be more embarrassing?

“Hello, Süßes mädchen.”

Fuck, just hearing his voice over the phone was enough to make your heart flutter. Chewing on your lower lip, you asked him about his day, wanting to start the call on a good note before you told him about Graves’ little meeting. He told you about some of the newest recruits, and how Horangi was talking to a civilian and it was more serious than his past conquests. He sounded like a proud older brother when he talked about Horangi and it was honestly adorable. A big grin was fixed on your face as you listened to his highs and lows, enjoying the shifts in his tone as he rambled for quite some time. It was nice, you realized, having someone to just talk to, even if it wasn’t in person.

“Ah, but enough about my day, how was your, meine liebling?” he asked.

“I enjoy hearing about what you’ve been up to,” you assured him warmly, “You know I love hearing you talk, but uh, my day was good. Got a little rocky at the end.”

“What happened?”

You could hear the instant change in his voice, protective König coming off the sidelines and ready to attack. It made you chuckle.

“Nothing that bad in the long run. Uh, Graves’ finally talked to me about Daniel. Had to sign a legal document backing up my statement. So far it seems everything is going well, but he also decided I need to redo training so I can protect myself better,” you explained.

He let out a little hum before sighing, “I have to agree with him there, maus. As much as I’d rather just be there to protect you, your safety is important.”

Cheeks flushing, you agree quietly. Of course, you’d rather have your big Austrian lover there as your guard but, unfortunately, that was just the way the world was for now. You snuggled farther back into the bed and began telling him about the mysterious case of chlamydia rampaging through the barracks, and all the chaos it was causing. It made you grateful you hadn’t made the choice to sleep with anyone there during the two months you’d not seen König.

“I will never understand the urge some have to fuck anything that moves,” he muttered quietly.

“Me either,” you replied, “Not that I’m innocent by any means. I’m all about people having fun. Hell, I’ve had my fair share of hook-ups, but… at least make sure ya use protection, you know?”

König let out a noise that almost sounded like a growl and you halted your words instantly, concerned by the sudden shift.

“You okay?” you asked tentatively.

“Fine, just don’t like thinking about that,” he sighed darkly, “That others have touched you. They didn’t deserve to have that access to you.”

Before you could stop it, a little giggle escaped, earning a disgruntled huff in reply.

“Don’t worry about it, big guy. If you want, I’ll gladly tell you about how much better you are than anyone I’ve ever been with,” you teased.

There was a soft groan from his side of the line before he retorted, “That doesn't help much.”

You thought about your words carefully, about what might ease that little twinge of jealousy, until finally, it hit. Prey on that possessive nature of his that you loved so much.

Lowering your voice to a seductive whisper, you murmured, “Okay, how about the fact you’re the only man I’ve had sex with without a condom? Also, just remember, love, they may have had me first… but you’re my last.”

Maybe a little stronghanded with the last sentence but you were willing to put your hopes out in the open. Unless something drastic occurred, you couldn’t see not wanting to be with him, and he seemed thoroughly content with you.

“Ah, maus, now that does make it better,” he purred warmly.

Smirking, you replied, “Thought so.”

A familiar warmth coiled low in your belly as you let your thoughts linger on König and just how much better he was than any other lover. It was torture not being allowed to be in his arms. Even without the sexual aspect, you wanted nothing more than to just be in his presence, be allowed to see him, and touch him. Memories of your last night together and his beautiful face created a dangerous combination between your thighs.

“You’re quiet, what’s going on in that pretty head, hmm?” he asked suddenly.

“Ah, um… taxes?” you squeaked out.

You could feel the heat returning to your cheeks as he laughed and you realized you’d been caught daydreaming about him. How were you still so easily flustered by that man when you’d fucked him seven ways from Sunday on multiple occasions now?

“Taxes huh? Must be pretty entertaining if it’s taking your attention off of me,” he teased.

Pursing your lips, you quickly retorted, “Nothing could take my attention off of you, König. You’re practically a permanent fixture in my head now.”

There was a little rumble and you barely made out his quiet “Good” before there was a rustling on his end. Now it was his turn to be oddly quiet.

“What are you doing over there?” you asked curiously.

The deep noise he let out made your heart thump harder.

“Taxes.”

His breathless tone scrambled your brain and it took a moment to comprehend what he meant but once it hit, you felt the niggle of lust in your core ramp up quickly. Clenching your thighs together, you let out a sigh at the slight relief.

“Hmm, do you need help with those taxes?” you mused gently.

His response was a decidedly determined, “Yes!”

“Video chat?”

The line went dead in the next instant, startling and confusing you until you saw the screen light up with the video call request. You could tell your face was flushed dark in the little square that showed your image in the top right and it only made your embarrassment grow.

“Da ist mein wunderschöner, Liebling.”

“Well hello there, handsome” you murmured, unable to stop the grin spreading across your lips.

To your surprise, König was maskless and it made your heart do a little happy dance. He really was one of the most stunning people you’d ever seen. It was a shame he hid it all the time but you also understood his need for privacy with his anxiety and for secrecy.

“You look absolutely beautiful, mein schatz,” he purred quietly.

Warmth quickly filled your cheeks again, his complement reminding you that you were in pajamas with your hair unstyled and only the remnants of the day's makeup on your face. Thankfully, your pajamas weren’t too incredibly bad; a dark grey tanktop with lace along the neckline and matching shorts. It could have been way worse but you also wished you’d had the chance to clean up before he’d seen you.

“Says the male model,” you replied cheekily, “So, wanna show me these taxes I have to help with?”

He let out a snort but suddenly the camera was facing down his body. Your sharp gasp filled the air as he groaned softly. He was already fully hard and leaking, all flushed and beautiful and demanding. Even his massive hand couldn’t cover it completely. God damn.

“I’ve been hard since the moment I heard your voice,” he rumbled softly, “You drive me crazy.”

You watched in awe as he began to stroke his length, throaty little noises filtering through the phone’s speaker like a siren’s song. Setting the phone precariously on your breasts, you quickly shoved your shorts down your legs and kicked them off the end of the bed before picking it back up.

“Need to see you, maus,” he demanded huskily, “Show me what is mine.”

If it were possible, you would have died right then and there from his words.

“Just so you know, I’ve never really done this whole video sex thing before,” you admitted meekly, suddenly nervous by the thought of showing off over the camera.

“And you think I have?” he snickered, “You enjoy seeing me, ja?”

“Of course!”

“Then let me see you too. You know just how much I love your body,” he cajoled sweetly, “Or do I have to punish you for disobedience when I see you next, hmm?”

“No sir!” you gasped.

With a shaky sigh, you switched to the back camera and moved the phone down, ensuring you could still see him at the same time. Your fingers twitched eagerly against your thigh as he let out a low moan.

“Gutes mädchen, now, show me how you tease yourself.”

Excitement brewed to life under the prospect of being controlled from afar and you quickly moved to follow his orders. Your eyes fluttered shut uncontrollably as you traced your fingertips up and down your slit, nearly jumping at the light sensation when goosebumps crawled across your skin. This continued on for only a minute or two before he gave in and told you to slide a finger into your cunt. An uncontrollable whimper escaped as you felt your warm walls clamp down around the digit.

Forcing your eyes open once again, you intentionally began to match your thrusts to the pace of his hand. It was nothing nearly as good as the real thing, but it was close enough and you couldn’t deny the things this interaction was making you feel.

“Gut, gut, that’s it. Show me how wet you are.”

It took a moment to get the angle right but the instant you caught the glistening sheen across your lips and fingers, he halted his hand with a broken groan.

“I would give anything to have my face buried in that pretty little cunt right now,” he growled, “Go on, maus, show me how you make yourself feel good.”

“O-Okay,” you breathed softly.

The awkwardness of touching yourself with an audience was beginning to fade away, lost to pleasure and lust as you watched him. When you finally sunk two fingers into your hole and hooked them up against your g-spot, you nearly saw stars, a weak whimper falling from your lips.

“Ja, das ist ein gutes Mädchen. Lass mich dich hören,” König groaned, “Faster, schatz, keep up with me.”

Eager to obey, you swiftly withdrew your fingers and used the slick to rub your nub. With a finger on either side, you squeezed and rubbed and teased until your legs were shaking with need. Ecstasy swirled rampantly in your belly, growing tighter and tighter with each pass over your clit. It was hard to keep your eyes open but you refused to miss even a second of him. As you got closer and your little noises became harder to control, you could see the chain reaction it had on him, his hips bucking up into each movement as precum spilled over his fist. Oh, and his sounds, the quick smacking and heavy breathing felt like they were connected directly to your core.

“K-König, I’m close,” you warned him weakly.

“Scheiße, heilige scheiße,” he snarled, thighs going tense, “Ja, okay, hold it just a bit longer.”

A debauched whine filled the air and your brows furrowed in frustration. You’d never been good at delaying your climax, too focused on instant gratification, but there was no denying the way his command made your belly twist eagerly. Jesus, what was this man doing to you?

“I know, but I want you to come with me,” he grunted.

The heat was becoming too intense so you instinctively slowed your fingers down to ease the burn, only for him to snap at you to keep going.

“B-But I- please König,” you whimpered needily, “König, bitte, bitte, I-”

The reaction to his native language was immediate, body jolting so hard you nearly expected him to fall off his bed.

“I’m gonna count back from three. At one, I want you to let go, leibling, can you do that for me?” he panted out through moans.

With a little curse, you whined, “Yes, please just- Yes!”

“Drei…”

Fuck, he was doing it in German.

“Zwei…”

He fucking knew what that did to you.

“Eins… Now, now, Kleines!”

A cry of his name escaped in a breathless scream as your body nearly collapsed in on itself at his command, thighs shutting tight around your hand as rutted frantically into your hand. The pleasure coursing through your veins felt like it would drown you but it only got better when he followed suit. You watched in disbelief as ropes of cum shot out and covered his belly and hand, enamored by the way his cock twitched and throbbed as he squeezed out every last drop. Your name heavy on his lips brought that familiar heat back to your face.

“God, fuck,” you whined, jerking your hand away as the sensations became too strong.

A comfortable silence fell over you, only heavy pants breaking the quiet, until you felt rejuvenated enough to roll over and groan.

“Leibling?”

Picking up the phone, you turned it back to the front-facing camera and flashed him a little smile. His eyes were heavy and cheeks still flushed, lips quirked into a smirk as he ran a hand through his hair. How the fuck were you supposed to go the next four months without him?

“I have an embarrassing question,” you murmured after a moment.

He quirked a brow but replied, “Of course, maus, what is it?”

“Would- Would you be okay staying on call with me?” you asked before hastily adding, “Just til I fall asleep! I don’t wanna keep you too late.”

König’s expression turned into something soft.

“Of course but I’ll do better. We’ll stay on all night. Not as good as having you here but it’s better than being without you completely.”

…

“Again!”

Frustration broke through your lips in the form of an annoyed grunt as you punched the hand targets again; right, left, right. You narrowly missed getting hit in the face by the foam target when he swung it at you again. Unfortunately, between your exhaustion and poor balance, you collapsed to the floor with a yelp.

Max let out a honking laugh and you managed to open your eyes just enough to see him bent over, red-faced from laughter. What a jerk.

“Not funny,” you bit out coolly.

“On the contrary, I find it quite funny,” he retorted cheekily, “But, maybe this is a sign we need a break, aye?”

Lifting an eyebrow, you snapped back, “Ya think?! We’ve only been at this for like two hours!”

He shrugged his burly shoulders before settling down onto the ground next to you, handing over your water bottle as he drank from his own. It was a comfortable silence despite your panting, something you were grateful for. It was ironic, considering Max was filling in for Declan who was transferred out after some sketchy shit came up in his files. You couldn’t say you were upset by the change though. Max was the first soldier you’d been able to relatively get along with in months. There was something about his dry humor and easy-going nature that made him likable.

“Tomorrow it’ll be training at the range again. Wanna test you on more long-range options.”

You let your displeasure at the idea be known with the obnoxious long groan you released.

“I’m shit with long range! Just let me focus on getting better at what I’m good at,” you begged, turning to give him your best puppy dog eyes.

He simply stared you down with all the energy of a disappointed father.

“You won’t get good at it if you don’t practice.”

“… And?! I have gifted kid burnout syndrome,” you sighed, “All I want to do is what I’m already good at.”

If looks could kill, you were sure you’d be dead where you lay on the floor. You tossed him back an equally serious glare but within moments you both broke down into laughter.

“Shit, dude, you could kill with those eyes,” Max said, tossing his now-empty bottle aside, “What do ya say? Got ‘nother round in you or we packin’ it up?”

You took inventory of all your sore muscles and bruises before giving a little shrug.

“I’d prefer being able to walk at work tomorrow,” you retorted.

“Rest it is then,” he said as he got to his feet with a long groan.

Following suit, you snagged up your grey hoodie and released your hair from its messy ponytail, double-checking that you still had your phone before heading to the door.

“Hey, wait up a sec!” Max called before the door closed behind you.

You quickly caught it with your foot, trying to ignore the pain of the heavy door nearly crushing your littlest toe.

“Yeeess?”

“A couple of the guys and I are goin’ out to Seven’s tonight, that one bar on Cedar, if you wanna join us?” he asked.

Bile rose in your throat instantaneously as the memories of your last bar experience filled your thoughts- Daniel, the date rape drug, how König killed him in cold blood. Max was nice, respectful even; he hadn’t done anything yet that would make you suspect that he had more than a friendly interest in you, but after Daniel… any man besides König was a terrifying unknown. Apparently, the hesitation was clear on your face because he slapped a heavy hand down on your shoulder, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“No pressure, Y/L/N,” he assured you with a gentle squeeze, “It’d be nice to hang with you without kickin’ your ass though.”

That brought a small smile to your lips. Damn him for being a nice person.

“I appreciate that but, uh, I don’t know many people here that well and-”

“Hey, that’s okay! This’ll be a good chance ta get ta know everyone, and, hey, I’ll be there so you’ll know someone,” he said.

Swallowing hard, you tried to think of a polite way to turn him down but it was impossible with how kind he had been this past week. When your lips parted finally to say no, he lifted up a hand, silencing you instantly.

“If this is about bein’ with a bunch of guys alone, I swear that I’ll protect ya,” he assured you gently, “My mum would have my ass if she knew I didn’t protect a lady, and that’s not even countin’ what’ll happen when Graves gets ahold of me.”

He was making this fucking hard, way harder than it should be. While you were used to being alone, there was no denying how painful it got at times. Especially on the nights when you couldn’t call König and talk to him. Having actual friends might be a nice change of pace.

“You swear?” you asked weakly.

He made an ‘X’ across his heart and said, “Solemnly swear.”

Letting out a sigh, you shifted your jacket farther up your arm before giving him a single nod.

“The instant I don’t feel safe, we’re out, got it?”

“Absolutely! And if anyone gives you trouble, just point me in their direction and they won’t even be a problem. Just consider me your guard dog for the night, yea?”

After agreeing to meet up outside the entrance gates, you scurried back to your room with your thoughts going a million miles an hour. Could you really trust Max? What would happen if you got separated? Would the other soldiers behave? Anxiety whirled through your brain like a tornado, creating more chaos than usual, until you were dressed and checking your reflection. You knew better than to dress in anything too eye-catching this time, settling for a simple black long-sleeved shirt and loose jeans with your work tennis shoes. Even with Max around, shit could happen.

You pulled your hair up into a tidy bun before dragging out your phone and shooting a text to König. He was gone on a mission and didn’t have the ability to answer calls on a whim, but you wanted to keep him updated on your whereabouts… just in case.

‘Hey love! I just wanted to let you know I’m going out to the local bar with some of the guys. My trainer Max, the one I told you about the other day, invited me. He promises he’s going to be my guard dog so I should be safe but I am bringing my pepper spray and self-defense keys too just so you know. No need to worry about me! I’ll text you again once I’m home safe. XO’

Once the text showed as delivered, you turned your ringer all the way up and slid it into your pocket, taking a deep breath for courage before braving the outside. Hopefully, this would be a turning point, a way for you to make friends and have people you could trust again. You shut and locked your door behind you, double-checking it out of cautiousness, then trekked across the base to the meeting point.

There had to be at least twelve to fifteen people gathered outside of the gates when you arrived. Thankfully, there wasn’t a single face you recognized from Daniel’s friend group in the little mass and you let out a relieved sigh before sliding up to Max’s side.

“Hey there! Glad ta see ya made it. Ready to go boys?” Max asked everyone.

A few affirmatives were thrown around before everyone split into separate groups, piling into three different cars. The two that split off with you and Max were chivalrous enough to insist you take the front seat and quickly started up a conversation about Yu-Gi-Oh of all things. Max, surprisingly, joined right in and even tried to involve you in the conversation a few times. It was sweet. By the time you were pulling up at the curb by the bar, somehow the topic had changed to poker and bets on who at the company would have the best poker face.

“I swear, Commander Graves would beat everyone,” you shot back, closing the car door behind you, “Have you been on the wrong side of his wrath yet?!”

“Nah, see, because scary doesn’t equate to a good liar,” Max retorted, “But, if we’re counting outside groups we’ve teamed with, you should see Captain Price. That man has nerves of steel. There’s no way to figure out when he’s bluffing!”

“Oh shit, yeah, haven’t thought about him in a while,” Luke, the younger of the trio shouted.

The chaotic conversation was overpowered by the sound of music, pool tables, and laughter when Max held the door open for you. You quickly slid by and waited right inside, unwilling to chance going more than a few steps away from them.

“Sooo, table first or drinks?” Trevor asked, rocking back and forth on his heels as he looked around the busy bar.

“Drinks. It’s gonna take a hot minute to get anything with that crowd,” Luke replied.

Falling in step beside them, you kept as close to Max as possible, doing your best to ignore the anxiety creeping up in your throat as you tried to decide on a drink. You didn’t want to be a wet blanket but you also weren’t sure about allowing yourself to become inebriated either. Plus with the drugs last time, the idea of alcohol you didn’t pour from the bottle yourself was unappealing. Thankfully, you had a good amount of time to think about it. Luke was correct in his assessment of the crowd. It took almost twenty minutes just to flag the bartender down and order your drinks.

“What’cha gettin’?” Max asked loudly.

You could only shrug in response. Max was nothing but attentive and instantly leaned down to your ear.

“Guard dog, remember? You don’t have to drink but if you do, I’ve got your back!” he reassured you.

“What’s it gonna be, doll?” the young woman across the counter asked blandly.

Shooting him a look that told him exactly how much trust you were putting into him, you smiled timidly at Max then leaned closer to the bartender.

“Just a lemon drop shot and a water please!”

With that, she was gone, and the guys picked back up on their previous discussion concerning the Captain Price they had mentioned, and some guys named Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. Just what the fuck kind of people had those names? Surely that had to be callsigns… right? 'Ghost' fucked with your mind the most. You could only imagine what he had done to earn that name. But Soap? Soap made you giggle. Did anyone take a soldier with that name seriously? You didn’t think you would if you met him.

A few minutes later, you all had your drinks and were headed to a table out on the back patio. It was perfectly cool outside, just a slight chilly breeze blustering about and filling the air with that familiar autumn scent. It was finally starting to feel like October. You sat beside Max and twirled your shot glass in circles, letting your gaze trail over all the different groups outside in the meantime. By twos and threes, the rest of the original clan joined the nearby tables until you were nestled comfortably between them all. You tried to keep up with the conversation but moreso just enjoyed watching them. It was a big group but they all talked together seamlessly. There was no denying the comradery between them and it created a warm, welcoming, feeling in your chest.

Max nudged your arm, pulling your gaze up to him, and you found him staring down at you with one brow lifted.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked.

Flashing him an easy smile, you nodded and replied, “Yeah, I actually am. Hey, uh, thanks for inviting me out.”

He rolled his eyes and waved you off with a scoff, before muttering, “Stop actin’ like it was some act of charity. You may not realize it, but you’re a joy to be around… well, when you’re not bein’ a pain in my ass and tryin’ to shoot me in the foot.”

Eyes widening in disbelief, you backhanded his arm gently.

“That was one time! And it was an accident!” you squeaked, cheeks burning hot.

“Yeah, one time too many,” he snickered back, taking a swig of his beer.

Muttering under your breath about the lack of trust and loyalty he had, you swallowed back the last of your anxiety and finally took the shot in front of you, which was surprisingly delicious.

“If ya need to get up and go anywhere, let me know, I’ll go with ya,” he added after a moment, “I’m on duty til I get ya back to your room.”

You gave him a thankful nod and nursed your water, tuning back into the conversation around you when Luke yelled at Max to defend him.

“What’d I miss?”

“Tell them I’m not actually bad at Mario Kart!” Luke whined, “I lost to Dave once and now he swears he’s better than me at it.”

Yu-Gi-Oh? Mario Kart? How in the fuck were these goofballs the same intimidating soldiers you saw around the barracks?

When Max actually spoke up for Luke, it created a mass of chaos and debates on who was actually better and led to bets for future games. Maybe you’d be lucky enough to join them when they did. It’d been some time since you’d played on more than your Nintendo Switch.

…

“So you’re coming out next time too, right?” Max asked, leaning up against the wall by your door.

“I guess,” you replied with a shrug, “If you guys want me to?”

He narrowed his eyes and bit out, “Noooo. I was asking because I was hoping you’d stay far far away on your lonesome.”

You nudged his ribs gently, trying to quiet your laughter in hopes of not disturbing any of the sleeping soldiers in nearby rooms.

“Shut up. I’m just not used to it is all,” you sighed.

“Well, get used to it, brat. I’m officially naming myself your guard dog older brother,” he retorted, “Now, go get some sleep. Don’t need you dead on your feet at training tomorrow.”

At the reminder of his plans to torture you with sniper training, you deflated against your door with a whine.

“Are you serious?!”

He smirked, patting your shoulder in mock sympathy, before rising to his full height once more.

“Gotta do it, kid. Better to get it done now than have Graves’ on our asses about slacking.”

You couldn’t find fault in his logic but that didn’t mean you liked it any more than you had before. Shooting him an evil glower, you popped your door open and stepped in.

“Night, brat!”

“Yeah, yeah, good night,” you huffed as you slammed the door shut.

Without even bothering to change, you flopped down into your bed and unlocked your phone, checking your notifications. There were a few updates from your social media but the only thing you cared to see were the texts from König.

‘Have fun and be safe. Please make sure you text me once you get home.’ at nine.

‘Leibling? Are you home yet?’ at ten thirty.

‘If I don’t hear from you by 12, I’m not responsible for my actions.’ at eleven thirty.

It was eleven-fifty now. Shit! You weren’t sure what he could do from so far away but you didn’t want to test his capabilities, nor did you want to worry him further. Pulling up his number, you hit call and waited nervously.

“Scheiße! Ich habe mir Sorgen gemacht, Liebling!”

His voice was tense and you instantly felt wilted, guilt filling your chest heavily.

“I’m so sorry, love. I had my ringer on but I didn’t hear any of the texts over the music,” you apologized quickly, “I didn’t mean to worry you, I promise!”

“It’s fine. I’m just glad to hear you safe,” he sighed, “Did you have a good time?”

Lips quirking into a little smile, you replied, “Yeah, it was nice. Would have been better with you there though. Oh, and I think Max has adopted me as his little sister.”

“Little sister, hmm?”

“Yup! He stood guard for me all night. Didn’t let a single person approach me and waited outside the bathroom for me and everything. I don’t know how, but I think he has an idea that something happened in the past,” you explained, “That or he’s just a really good guard dog.”

“That better be all he is,” you heard him grumble softly.

“Calm down, big guy,” you reassured him gently, “Or do I need to remind you why you’re my one and only?”

That got a reaction. The grunt of your name sent your hair on end and pulled a sly smirk to your lips. Yeah, you’d be glad to take the time to show him that you still belonged only to him.

[earlgraytay]

Hey there, sorry for a probably weird question but in this current climate I am anxious to write my story bc it may be misinterpreted. I liked your nuanced view on fandom/fiction matters so maybe you can help here too. Does having two male characters who happened to die as a natural result of their dark, dystopian world (absolutely nothing to do with their relationship, just the circumstances), count as "bury your gays"? Do I have to remove the element of their relationship, like just have them as friends instead? It sucks thinking about it now when this dark story served as an outlet for me, who is now going through a pretty bad time, but now I realized this and the fact that I have to abandon my project.

So, first off: I'm honoured you asked me about this, but I want to make one thing very, very clear. Both for you, and for any other writer who may be reading this.

You do not need permission to tell stories. You do not need permission to tell your stories the way you want to tell them.

You do not need my permission. You do not need permission from your friends, or your mentors, or your fandom. You do not need permission from the queer community as a whole. (God, can you even imagine?) You do not need permission.

Here's the thing. Most Trope Criticism is, fundamentally, about mass media. When a team of people with a budget that lets them spread a message to the entire world decide to tell a certain kind of story over and over, and that story makes a group of people into a tragedy or a scapegoat? If you're making a product for consumption, and the only thing you're letting queer people consume is dust and ashes while everyone else gets chocolate? Yeah, that can be a problem.

But you are not a team of people. You are not writing a story that is a product for consumption. Changing it to make it a product for consumption- changing it to make it more palatable to people who will complain about anything that isn't exactly to their tastes- is not an option that you can take. Not with a story like this.

You are making an intensely personal piece of art. It clearly means a lot to you. You deserve to get to put that pain and that darkness somewhere safe. You deserve to get to tell your story, consumption be damned.

So no, you do not have to abandon this project. You don't need to change it to make your characters Just Friends.

You should keep going, and finish your story the way that makes sense to you. Because you do not need permission.

[mecachrome]

(sorry for rpf ment) but id like to know your opinion bc from ur tags it's clear you understand oscar pretty well. basically i keep seeing fics and things describe him as "analytical" and "focused" but personally i never get that vibe? could you maybe extrapolate a bit on where that comes from?

oh anon thank you for giving me the opportunity to do my favorite thing in the world (talk about oscar)!!

honestly i do think that "analytical" and "focused" describe him very succinctly — these are words you'll find that he and many others have described him by in real life — it's maybe just a matter of understanding what that means for him and not equating either trait to the sum of his personality. to me this is not a bad thing because i genuinely enjoy athletes who are considered analytical and boring (which i've also reclaimed as a term of endearment now. i'll gladly take a boring dude if it means he doesn't like playing golf!) so i think he fits that archetype well, it's just that he's obviously more than that and thus his personality is endearing to people because he has "unexpected" quirks that betray the occasional assumption of his one-dimensionality.

here are a few direct quotes from people around him:

BROWN: "He's very mature, he's very focused and he’s very technical." STELLA: "There is no external noise in his brain. He doesn’t dissipate or dilute his talent into things that are not useful or functional, and that was apparent to us relatively early on." STALLARD: "Everything is meaningful. I’m not sure I’ve met that many [drivers] who I would describe as calm and intense." WEBBER: "He’s a Prost, mate. He’s such a thinker and so calm. At first I thought I needed to inject a bit of urgency in him, but actually no, he’s got his own frequency. That’s just where he is."

rest below the cut because i talk too much...

i would be curious to hear more about why you don't get that vibe from him so i could elaborate more in that direction, would you say it's because he doesn't come across that way in off-track media that mclaren posts of him and lando? i'd argue that at least on-track his being analytical, focused, unflappable, and most of all ~adaptable~ (if you listen to any commentator talk about him you'll quickly hear that this is people's favorite word for him) is what made oscar thrive at the junior level when he was a rookie in both f3/f2, and what's helped him deliver the rookie campaign he's managed so far with mclaren — of course the extensive testing mileage with the a521 helped immensely with this acclimatization but that was a completely different car with different regs, and more impressive to me is not only that he managed to be decent "as a rookie" in an on-average midfield car and didn't commit egregious mistakes when the mcl60 was a backmarker tractor with constant reliability issues but also that he quickly stepped up alongside lando once the aero upgrades came along and immediately recalibrated his expectations from "maybe points if we're lucky" to "podiums whenever possible." that's a bigger mental feat than it seems and definitely speaks to his analytical nature; another example of his inherent reflectiveness is his somewhat subdued reaction to getting his first podium in suzuka because he was more concentrated on his pace deficit to lando and overall tyre-management issues than the superficial milestone of a podium. similar to tom sarcastically going "i can hear that you're excited..." after quali that weekend and oscar quipping back "that's as excited as i get for second place!"

maybe "focused" is difficult to qualify as a personality trait but i'd say it manifests largely in his calmness, especially when you consider the high-adrenaline nature of racing and the effusiveness other drivers on the grid are prone to displaying. how oscar strikes me as is that he's self-critical while still managing requisite internal belief and optimism, which stella and others have spoken highly of and credited for driving forward his rapid development curve over the course of a weekend, especially at new race tracks. maybe you're asking about "analytical" in the context of relationship dynamics in fic so feel free to correct me there (AND ALSO APOLOGIES FOR THIS UNGODLY SPIEL), but another great quote is andrea in his latest btg appearance where he says this of oscar:

 "[What impressed us is] his awareness of what the opportunities are, even before he looks at an overlay or looks at any telemetry. He kind of has this capacity to self-recognize where there is more to come from either himself or from the car, and this is not so obvious. I know drivers that can be fast, but they kind of definitely need external support as to see what is possible. [...] He has a large capability from a self-awareness point of view, and then he has this capacity to then drive according to the opportunity identified, which for me is the definition of talent."

in terms of his media personality, you'll commonly see people online say that oscar is a talkative kimi or that he's winning the idgaf war etc. and i think maybe people (not fic writers but like Guys On Reddit) tend to extrapolate a bit too much from his "mentality" and are like this is why he's going to be the next wdc and lando will become washed which is literally absurd and insane and i'm not even going to entertain that with a ten-foot pole. but i think how i'd describe oscar is that he's very intentional in disseminating his image in a highly specific "everything is a product of cringe culture" gen-z way — he knows exactly how he comes across to the camera or how people perceive his tweets online and is willing to play into the meme when he thinks it'll benefit him, for ex. how he knew the camera was on him during the jetpack guy moment and consciously made that face to incite some kind of reaction. obviously oscar isn't wholly preoccupied with making people like him and isn't going to be as loud and rambunctious as a character like dr3, but he's capable of being "silly" and making jokes because he does like being perceived as funny and will engage in low-effort banter or make his drs tweets and post a 240p reaction gif of the jetpack meme because he enjoys social media virality to some degree. like i'm sure the crb debacle was a stressful time for him but another part of him was like "oh sweet more followers" LOL... maybe because of that it feels like there's a dichotomy between his "silly" self who makes bottoming jokes in mclaren youtube videos and who giggles at everything lando says and then his more focused, technically-oriented side, but imo there is very much a positive relationship between these facets of him. i'd say that because he is generally so analytical and calm he therefore has the mental capacity to be introspective in an actionable manner and improve on his weaknesses without getting emotionally carried away, and then in social settings this also allows him to live in the moment and take things less seriously and not overreact to people's opinions of him. if that makes sense...

also for bonus maxf/renault acad lore purposes: here is the insane mia quote about them that maybe explains more of his "ruthless" focus... i feel like sometimes it sounds weird when people call him that because being ruthless is essentially associated with being cruel or lacking empathy but to me oscar's ruthlessness is entirely inward and not a marker of his EQ or social awareness, just a reflection of how effectively he self-motivates and pushes himself:

"Consistency on track is based on how stable you are off track. [...] If you look at Oscar Piastri, he has been living on his own, [away] from his family who are in Melbourne for the past five to six years. [...] That's why he thrived in those weekends racing. He loves being on his own without anybody. On the other hand, we had Max Fewtrell, for example, who can't – he couldn't survive the 11 weekends racing, because he always needed his family to be around him. So those are the things that suddenly you see and, I think that that we see now, after a few years, a driver who is quick, a driver who has the talent, and then the driver who is stable."

again SORRY for how long this answer is but hopefully it is at least mildly informative!!! T__T