#i hope this is at all interesting for anyone?

[pucksandpower]

Hall Pass

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Carlos Sainz x ex!Reader

Summary: Carlos’ desire to fantasize about other women leads you straight into his teammate’s arms (or in which your boyfriend chooses a famous actress as his hall pass while you decide on someone much closer to home)

The hotel suite is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the plush carpet. You sit on the edge of the king-sized bed, your fingers idly tracing the intricate patterns on the duvet cover. Across the room, Carlos leans against the ornate writing desk, his arms crossed over his chest and a pensive look on his face.

“Y/N,” he begins, his voice low and measured. “We need to talk.”

You look up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “What’s on your mind?”

He shifts his weight, uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been thinking ... about us. About our relationship.”

Your heart skips a beat, a knot forming in your stomach. “Oh? And what have you been thinking?”

Carlos takes a deep breath, his eyes darting around the room before settling back on you. “I love you, Y/N. I do. But ... I can’t help feeling like we’re stuck in a rut.”

You furrow your brow, confusion and hurt mingling in your chest. “A rut? What do you mean?”

“It’s just ...” He pauses, searching for the right words. “We’ve been together for so long, and it’s been great. But don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”

You stand up, taking a step towards him. “Carlos, are you saying you want to break up?”

He holds up his hands, shaking his head quickly. “No, no. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just ... I had an idea.”

“An idea?” You repeat, your voice laced with skepticism.

Carlos nods, a hint of excitement creeping into his tone. “What if we each got a hall pass?”

You blink, taken aback. “A hall pass? Like ... permission to sleep with someone else?”

“Exactly,” he says, snapping his fingers. “But not just anyone. We each choose one person, and if we ever happen to meet them and the opportunity arises, we’re allowed to go for it. No hard feelings, no guilt.”

You stare at him, trying to process his words. “Let me get this straight. You want us to choose people we can cheat on each other with, guilt-free?”

Carlos winces at your phrasing. “It’s not cheating if we both agree to it. Think of it as ... spicing things up. Adding a little excitement to our relationship.”

You cross your arms, mirroring his earlier stance. “And you think this will solve our supposed ‘rut’?”

He shrugs, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “It could be fun. Just imagine the thrill of knowing we both have this secret possibility out there.”

You shake your head, disbelief coloring your voice. “I can’t believe you’re seriously suggesting this.”

“Come on, mi amor,” Carlos coaxes, taking a step towards you. “It’s not like anything will actually happen. We’ll probably never even meet the people we choose.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Then what’s the point?”

“The point is the fantasy, the excitement,” he explains, his eyes lighting up. “It’s like ... buying a lottery ticket. You know you probably won’t win, but the possibility is thrilling.”

You chew on your lower lip, considering his words. Part of you wants to shut down this ridiculous idea immediately, but another part is intrigued by the challenge. “And you really think this will help our relationship?”

Carlos nods eagerly. “I do. It’ll add a spark, keep things interesting.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”

“So ... is that a yes?” Carlos asks, hope evident in his voice.

After a long moment, you nod slowly. “Fine. But we set some ground rules first.”

Carlos grins, clapping his hands together. “Of course! Whatever you want.”

You hold up a finger. “Rule number one: we tell each other who we choose. No secrets.”

“Agreed,” Carlos says quickly.

“Rule number two: if anything ever does happen, we tell each other immediately.”

Carlos nods. “Absolutely. Honesty is key.”

You take a deep breath. “Okay. So ... who’s your choice?”

Carlos’ grin widens. “Margot Robbie.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Seriously? Margot Robbie?”

He shrugs, looking pleased with himself. “What? She’s gorgeous, talented, and there’s practically zero chance I’ll ever meet her, let alone have the opportunity to sleep with her.”

You shake your head, amused despite yourself. “Well, at least you’re being realistic about your chances.”

Carlos chuckles. “Exactly. It’s the perfect choice. Exciting, but safe.” He leans forward, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “What about you? Who’s your hall pass going to be?”

You pause, pretending to consider your options carefully. In truth, you’ve already made your decision, a plan forming in your mind. “Well,” you say slowly, “I think I’ll choose ... Charles.”

Carlos’ brow furrows in confusion. “Charles? What Charles?”

You allow a small smirk to play across your lips. “Charles Leclerc.”

The color drains from Carlos’ face as realization dawns. “Charles ... Leclerc? My teammate, Charles Leclerc?”

You nod, feigning innocence. “That’s the one.”

Carlos sputters, his earlier confidence evaporating. “But-but you can’t choose him!”

“Why not?” You ask, your voice sweet. “He fits all the criteria. He’s attractive, talented, and exciting.”

“But he’s my teammate!” Carlos exclaims, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “You see him all the time!”

You shrug, echoing his earlier nonchalance. “So? You’re the one who wanted to add some excitement to our relationship.”

Carlos paces back and forth, his earlier enthusiasm replaced by panic. “This isn’t what I meant! I chose someone I’ll never meet. You chose someone you could literally bump into tomorrow!”

“Carlos,” you say, your voice taking on a patronizing tone, “are you saying you don’t trust me?”

He stops pacing, turning to face you with wide eyes. “Of course I trust you. It’s just ... it’s Charles!”

You take a step towards him, your expression hardening. “Let me ask you something. Did you really think this through when you suggested it? Or were you just hoping for a free pass to fantasize about other women without feeling guilty?”

Carlos opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find a response. “I ... that’s not ... I didn’t mean ...”

You cut him off, your voice sharp. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you thought you could have your cake and eat it too. You’d get to keep me while indulging in your little fantasies about Margot Robbie or whoever else catches your eye.”

“Mi amor, please,” Carlos pleads, reaching for your hand. “That’s not what this was about at all.”

You pull away from his grasp, shaking your head. “No? Then what was it about? Because it sure as hell wasn’t about improving our relationship.”

He runs his hands over his face, frustration evident in every line of his body. “I just ... I thought it would be fun. A little harmless fantasy to spice things up.”

“Well, congratulations,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve certainly spiced things up now.”

Carlos looks at you, desperation in his eyes. “Can we just ... can we forget this whole thing? Pretend I never suggested it?”

You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Oh no, Carlos. You don’t get to backtrack now. You wanted a hall pass? You’ve got one.”

“Please,” he begs, reaching for you again. “I was being stupid. I don’t want this.”

You step back, avoiding his touch. “Too late. What was it you said? No hard feelings, no guilt?”

Carlos’ face crumples. “I didn’t think ... I never imagined you’d choose someone like Charles.”

“Maybe you should have,” you snap. “Maybe you should have considered how I’d feel about you wanting permission to sleep with other women.”

He hangs his head, shame written across his features. “I’m sorry. I really am. Can we please just talk about this?”

You shake your head, moving towards the door of the suite. “I think we’ve talked enough for one night.”

Carlos’ head snaps up, panic flashing in his eyes. “Where are you going?”

You grab your purse from the nearby chair, slinging it over your shoulder. “Out. I need some air.”

“Y/N, wait!” Carlos calls, his voice rising in desperation. “You can’t ... you’re not going to ...”

You turn back to face him, your hand on the doorknob. “Going to what, Carlos? Use my hall pass? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He shakes his head vehemently. “No! I mean, yes, but not like this. Not with Charles!”

“Why not?” You challenge. “He’s attractive, available, and conveniently located just down the hall. Isn’t that exciting?”

Carlos’ face contorts with a mixture of anger and fear. “You wouldn’t. You’re just trying to teach me a lesson.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Am I? Are you willing to bet on that?”

He takes a step towards you, his voice pleading. “Mi amor, please. I’m begging you. Don’t do this.”

You open the door, pausing in the threshold. “You know, Carlos, you were right about one thing. This definitely isn’t boring anymore.”

As you step into the hallway, you hear Carlos’ voice rising behind you. “Y/N! Come back! We need to talk about this!”

You let the door swing shut behind you, cutting off his desperate pleas. As you walk down the corridor, your heels clicking against the polished floor, a small smile plays across your lips.

You have no intention of actually going to Charles’ room, of course. But Carlos doesn’t need to know that. Let him stew in his own jealousy and insecurity for a while. Maybe next time he’ll think twice before suggesting something so foolish.

As you reach the elevator, you can still hear Carlos’ muffled shouts echoing from your suite. You press the button for the lobby, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Part of you feels guilty for causing him such distress, but a larger part feels justified in your actions. He needed to understand the consequences of his thoughtless suggestion.

As the elevator doors slide closed, you let out a long breath. It’s going to be a long night, but perhaps this will be the wake-up call your relationship needed. Not in the way Carlos had intended, but in a way that forces you both to confront the real issues lurking beneath the surface.

The elevator begins its descent, carrying you away from the drama upstairs and towards an uncertain future. One thing’s for sure — your relationship will never be the same after tonight. Whether that’s for better or worse remains to be seen.

***

The hotel bar is a sanctuary of soft lighting and hushed conversations. You sit perched on a high stool, nursing a glass of red wine and trying to quiet the storm of emotions raging inside you. The bartender, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, keeps glancing your way, clearly sensing your distress but respectfully maintaining his distance.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice the figure approaching until he speaks.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?”

You look up, startled, to find Charles Leclerc standing beside you, concern etched across his handsome features. For a moment, you’re struck by the irony of the situation.

“Charles,” you manage, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, just ... needed some air.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying your act. “At the bar? Must be some very alcoholic air.”

Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh. “Caught me. Mind if I buy you a drink to keep my secret?”

Charles slides onto the stool next to you, a warm smile playing across his lips. “Only if you let me buy the next round and tell me what’s really going on.”

You hesitate, swirling the wine in your glass. “It’s ... complicated.”

“I’ve got time,” Charles says softly, signaling the bartender. “And I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.”

As the bartender sets a Moscow Mule in front of Charles, you take a deep breath. “Carlos and I had a fight.”

Charles nods, his expression neutral. “I see. Do you want to talk about it?”

You laugh bitterly. “Oh, you’re going to love this. He suggested we each get a hall pass.”

Charles’ brow furrows in confusion. “A hall pass? Like in school?”

“No,” you explain, taking a sip of your wine. “A relationship hall pass. Permission to sleep with one chosen person if the opportunity ever arose.”

Charles’ eyes widen in surprise. “He suggested that? Really?”

You nod, feeling a fresh wave of anger wash over you. “He thought it would ‘spice things up’. Add some excitement to our relationship.”

“And how did you feel about that?” Charles asks carefully, studying your face.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Honestly? I felt ... hurt. Betrayed. Like I wasn’t enough for him anymore.”

Charles reaches out, hesitating for a moment before gently placing his hand over yours. “Y/N, you’re more than enough. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

You look up, meeting his intense gaze. “Thank you. That ... means a lot.”

He squeezes your hand before pulling away, taking a sip of his drink. “So, what happened next?”

You feel a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Well, I agreed.”

Charles nearly chokes on his drink. “You did?”

You nod, unable to suppress a small chuckle at his reaction. “I did. But not for the reasons Carlos wanted.”

“Oh?” Charles leans in, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Do tell.”

“Well,” you say, lowering your voice conspiratorially, “Carlos chose Margot Robbie as his hall pass.”

Charles snorts. “Of course he did.”

“Exactly,” you agree. “So when it was my turn to choose ... I picked you.”

For a moment, Charles is speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, he manages to sputter, “Me? You chose me?”

You nod, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “I did. You should have seen Carlos’ face. He was furious.”

Charles runs a hand through his hair, looking both flattered and bewildered. “I ... wow. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you assure him quickly. “I didn’t choose you because I actually intended to ... you know. I chose you to teach Carlos a lesson.”

Charles nods slowly, processing this information. “And did he learn his lesson?”

You shrug, finishing off your wine. “I don’t know. I left him screaming in our hotel room.”

“Y/N,” Charles says softly, his voice full of concern. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. You deserve better.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Do I? Sometimes I wonder ...”

Charles reaches out again, this time cupping your cheek gently. “Listen to me. You are an incredible woman. You’re smart, funny, beautiful ... any man would be lucky to have you. And if Carlos can’t see that, if he’s willing to risk losing you over some stupid fantasy, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

You lean into his touch, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the wine. “Charles ...”

He leans in closer, his voice low and intense. “If you were with me, I would treat you like the queen you deserve to be. I would never even think about another woman, let alone ask for permission to be with one.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. “Charles, I ... we can’t ...”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “Why not? You have a hall pass, don’t you?”

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of emotions clouding your judgment. “That’s not ... I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Charles sighs, dropping his hand from your face. “I know. And I would never want to be the reason you and Carlos break up. But Y/N, you have to know ... I’ve had feelings for you for a long time.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You have?”

He nods, a rueful smile on his face. “How could I not? You’re amazing. But you were with Carlos, and I respected that. I still do. But seeing you hurt like this ... it kills me.”

You feel tears spilling down your cheeks now, unable to hold them back any longer. “I don’t know what to do. I love Carlos, but after tonight ... I don’t know if I can trust him anymore.”

Charles pulls you into a gentle hug, his strong arms wrapping around you protectively. “It’s okay. You don’t have to decide anything right now.”

You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. “I just ... I feel so lost.”

He strokes your hair softly, his voice a soothing murmur. “I know. But you’re not alone. I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

You pull back slightly, looking up into his eyes. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.”

He smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Always. But Y/N ... I want you to know that if you ever decide you want more than friendship, I’m here. I would never hurt you the way Carlos has.”

You feel a flutter in your stomach, a mix of excitement and fear. “Charles, I ...”

He shakes his head, placing a finger gently on your lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

You nod, suddenly very aware of how close you are, of the electricity crackling between you. “I should ... I should probably go.”

Charles nods, but makes no move to let you go. “Probably. But do you want to?”

You bite your lip, torn between desire and duty. “I ... I don’t know.”

He leans in, his lips barely brushing your ear as he whispers, “Come up to my room. We don’t have to do anything. We can just talk or watch a movie. But I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

You shiver at his closeness, your resolve weakening. “Charles, I ... what if someone sees us?”

He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “Let them see. You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re allowed to have friends, to seek comfort when you’re hurting.”

You take a deep breath, knowing that you’re standing on the edge of a precipice. One wrong move and everything could come crashing down. But looking into Charles’ eyes, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence, you find yourself nodding.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Let’s go.”

Charles stands, offering you his hand. You take it, allowing him to lead you towards the elevators. As you walk, you can feel the eyes of other patrons on you, but Charles’ steady presence beside you helps you keep your head high.

In the elevator, you stand close together, the air thick with unspoken tension. Charles’ thumb traces small circles on the back of your hand, sending shivers up your arm.

“Charles,” you say softly as the elevator begins to ascend. “I need you to know ... I’m not using you to get back at Carlos. Whatever happens tonight, it’s because I want it to.”

He turns to face you, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek once more. “I know. And I want you to know that whatever happens or doesn’t happen, tonight doesn’t change anything. I’ll still be here for you tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that.”

You lean into his touch, feeling a sense of peace wash over you for the first time since your fight with Carlos. “Thank you.”

The elevator dings, signaling your arrival at Charles’ floor. He leads you down the hallway to his suite, fumbling slightly with the key card before pushing the door open.

As you step inside, you’re struck by how different it feels from the suite you share with Carlos. Where your room is cluttered with both of your belongings, evidence of your life together, Charles’ suite is neat and minimalist. It feels like a blank slate, a fresh start.

Charles closes the door behind you, leaning against it as he watches you take in the room. “So,” he says softly, “what now?”

You turn to face him, suddenly feeling nervous. “I ... I don’t know. This is all happening so fast.”

He nods, understanding in his eyes. “We can take it slow. Why don’t we sit down, maybe order some room service? We can talk, or not talk. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You feel a rush of affection for him, grateful for his patience and understanding. “That sounds nice.”

Charles moves to the phone, quickly ordering a selection of snacks and another bottle of wine. As he hangs up, he turns back to you with a shy smile. “I hope you don’t mind, I ordered your favorite.”

You blink in surprise. “You know my favorite wine?”

He shrugs, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I pay attention.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words. How many times had you had to remind Carlos of your preferences?

As you settle onto the plush sofa, Charles takes a seat beside you, close but not touching. “Y/N,” he says softly, “I want you to know that you’re in control here. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You nod, feeling a mix of gratitude and desire. “I know. And I appreciate that, Charles. But ...”

He raises an eyebrow. “But?”

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. “But I think I want to kiss you.”

Charles’ eyes widen, a look of surprise and joy spreading across his face. “Are you sure?”

Instead of answering, you lean forward, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss. For a moment, Charles is still, as if he can’t believe this is happening. Then, with a small groan, he responds, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss.

As you lose yourself in the sensation of Charles’ lips on yours, his strong arms pulling you closer, you feel a sense of rightness settle over you. You know that there will be consequences to face tomorrow, difficult conversations to be had. But for now, in this moment, you allow yourself to forget about everything else and simply feel.

When you finally pull apart, both breathing heavily, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

You smile, running your fingers through his hair. “Me too. I just didn’t realize it until now.”

He pulls back slightly, searching your eyes. “What happens now?”

You take a deep breath, considering your words carefully. “Now ... now we take things one step at a time. I can’t make any promises, Charles. I need to sort things out with Carlos, figure out what I really want.”

He nods, understanding and a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I know. And I’ll respect whatever decision you make. Just know that I’m here, Y/N. Whatever you need.”

You lean in, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you. For everything.”

As you settle back into his arms, feeling safe and cared for in a way you haven’t in a long time, you know that whatever the future holds, this night has changed everything. And for the first time in a long time, you’re looking forward to what tomorrow might bring.

***

The soft morning light filters through the curtains, a sliver landing directly on the warming skin of your face. You stir slowly, awareness creeping in as you realize you’re not in your own bed. As your eyes flutter open, you find yourself nestled in Charles’ arms, his steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm against your cheek.

For a moment, panic flares in your chest as you try to piece together the events of the night before. But as memories flood back, you relax, remembering that while you and Charles shared kisses and conversation, nothing more intimate transpired.

Charles shifts beside you, his arms tightening slightly as he wakes. “Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

You tilt your head to look up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Good morning.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. “How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to assess, surprised by the sense of calm that settles over you. “Better than I expected, actually.”

Charles nods, relief evident in his eyes. “I’m glad. I was worried you might regret ... well, everything.”

You shake your head, sitting up slightly to meet his gaze. “I don’t regret anything. Last night ... it made a lot of things clear for me.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity and hope warring in his expression. “Oh? What kind of things?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead. “I think ... I think I want to be with you. Not just for a hall pass, not just for one night. I want to see where this could go between us.”

Charles’ face lights up, joy radiating from every feature. But then, just as quickly, concern clouds his expression. “Y/N, as much as I want that — and believe me, I do — what about Carlos?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I need to end things with him. Properly. What he did, suggesting that hall pass ... it was just a symptom of bigger problems in our relationship. I see that now.”

Charles nods slowly, sitting up beside you. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want you to make any rash decisions because of one fight.”

You turn to face him fully, taking his hands in yours. “I’m sure. Last night, talking with you, being with you ... it made me realize what I’ve been missing. The respect, the understanding, the way you actually listen to me. I want that. I want you.”

A smile spreads across Charles’ face, but there’s still a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. But ... are you sure you want to do this now? Maybe you should take some time, think things through.”

You shake your head, determination setting in. “No, I need to do this now. If I wait, I’ll just be living a lie. Carlos deserves to know the truth, and I ... I want to start this — us — with a clean slate.”

Charles squeezes your hands gently. “Okay. If you’re sure. But I’m not letting you face Carlos alone.”

You blink in surprise. “What do you mean?”

He meets your gaze steadily. “I mean I’m coming with you when you break up with him. I know Carlos, and I know he’s not going to take this well. I want to be there to support you.”

“Charles,” you protest weakly, “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s going to be messy enough without you there.”

He shakes his head firmly. “You’re not asking, I’m offering. More than that, I’m insisting. We’re in this together now. Let me be there for you.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by his support. “Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

Charles leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Always. Now, why don’t we get cleaned up and face this together?”

An hour later, freshly showered and steeled for the confrontation ahead, you stand outside the door to your suite with Charles by your side. Your hand trembles slightly as you raise it to knock.

“Hey,” Charles says softly, catching your hand in his. “It’s going to be okay. I’m right here with you.”

You nod, taking a deep breath before rapping your knuckles against the door. For a long moment, there’s silence. Then, just as you’re about to knock again, the door flies open.

Carlos stands there, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. His gaze flicks between you and Charles, confusion quickly morphing into anger.

“What the hell is this?” He demands, his voice rough.

You step forward, trying to keep your voice calm. “We need to talk.”

He laughs bitterly, throwing the door wider. “Oh, now you want to talk? After disappearing all night? Come on in, let’s have a nice chat.”

As you and Charles enter the suite, you can’t help but notice the state of disarray. Empty bottles litter the coffee table, and it’s clear Carlos hasn’t slept.

“Have a nice night?” Carlos spits, slamming the door behind you.

You flinch at the sound, but stand your ground. “I’m sorry for leaving like that. But we need to discuss what happened.”

He rounds on you, anger blazing in his eyes. “What’s there to discuss? You used your fucking hall pass, didn’t you? With him?” He jabs a finger at Charles, who remains calm but alert beside you.

“No, Carlos, I didn’t,” you say firmly. “Charles and I talked, that’s all.”

Carlos scoffs, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Oh, you expect me to believe that? You disappear all night, then show up with him in the morning, and I’m supposed to think nothing happened?”

Charles steps forward, his voice level. “She’s telling you the truth. Nothing happened between us last night.”

Carlos whirls on him, fury contorting his features. “Stay out of this, Leclerc. This is between me and my girlfriend.”

You feel anger bubbling up inside you at his possessive tone. “That’s just it. I’m not your girlfriend anymore.”

The room goes deathly silent as your words hang in the air. Carlos stares at you, shock replacing anger for a moment before his face hardens again.

“What did you just say?” He growls.

You stand tall, drawing strength from Charles’ presence beside you. “I said I’m not your girlfriend anymore. I’m breaking up with you.”

For a moment, Carlos looks like you’ve physically struck him. Then, with a roar of rage, he sweeps his arm across the nearest surface, sending glasses and bottles crashing to the floor.

“You fucking bitch!” He shouts, advancing on you. “You sleep with my teammate and then have the audacity to break up with me?”

Charles steps between you and Carlos, his voice low and dangerous. “Back off. Now.”

Carlos sneers at him. “Oh, defending your new whore, are you? How noble.”

You push past Charles, anger overriding your fear. “That’s enough! I told you, I didn’t sleep with Charles. But even if I had, it would have been my right. You’re the one who suggested this stupid hall pass in the first place!”

Carlos laughs bitterly. “Oh, so this is my fault now? I suggest a little harmless fantasy to spice things up, and you use it as an excuse to cheat on me?”

“It wasn’t harmless!” You shout back. “It was hurtful and disrespectful. Did you ever stop to think how it would make me feel, knowing you wanted permission to sleep with other women?”

Carlos runs his hands through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. “It wasn’t about that! It was just a game, a fantasy!”

You shake your head, feeling a wave of sadness wash over you. “That’s the problem. Our relationship isn’t a game. It’s not something to be risked on a whim. And the fact that you don’t understand that ... it just proves we’re not right for each other anymore.”

Carlos’ anger seems to deflate, replaced by a desperate pleading. “Y/N, please. We can work this out. I’m sorry about the hall pass thing, okay? I was an idiot. But don’t throw away everything we have over one stupid mistake.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you blink them back. “It’s not just about the hall pass. It’s about everything. The way you take me for granted, the way you never really listen to me. I deserve better than that. I deserve someone who respects me, who values me.”

Carlos’ gaze flicks to Charles, understanding dawning in his eyes. “And you think he’s that someone? My teammate? My friend?”

Charles steps forward, his voice soft but firm. “I’m sorry it happened this way. I never wanted to hurt you. But Y/N is right — she deserves better. And I want to be the one to give her that.”

For a moment, you think Carlos might lunge at Charles. But then, to your surprise, he crumples, sinking onto the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

“How long?” He asks, his voice muffled.

You move closer, but stop short of touching him. “How long what?”

He looks up, his eyes red-rimmed. “How long have you two been ... feeling this way about each other?”

You exchange a glance with Charles before answering. “Honestly? I didn’t realize how I felt about Charles until last night. When he was there for me, really listening and supporting me ... it made me see what I’ve been missing.”

Carlos nods slowly, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “And you, Charles? How long have you been in love with my girlfriend?”

Charles takes a deep breath, meeting Carlos’ gaze steadily. “A while. But Carlos, I swear to you, nothing ever happened between us until last night. And even then, we didn’t sleep together. I respect you too much for that.”

Carlos laughs humorlessly. “Respect me? You’re stealing my girlfriend and you talk about respect?”

You feel a flare of irritation at his words. “He’s not stealing me. I’m not a possession. I’m making my own choice.”

Carlos stands abruptly, moving to the window and staring out at the city below. For a long moment, silence reigns in the room. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, defeated.

“Get out. Both of you. I can’t ... I can’t look at either of you right now.”

You take a step towards him, your heart aching despite everything. “Carlos ...”

He whirls around, his eyes flashing. “I said get out! Take your things and go. I’ll have the rest sent to you.”

You nod slowly, knowing that pushing further will only make things worse. As you move around the room, gathering your essential belongings, you feel a profound sadness settling over you. This is the end of a significant chapter in your life, and despite your certainty that it’s the right decision, it still hurts.

Charles waits by the door, a silent, supportive presence. When you’ve finished packing a small bag, you join him, pausing at the threshold to look back at Carlos one last time.

“I’m sorry it ended this way,” you say softly. “I hope ... I hope someday you can forgive us.”

Carlos doesn’t respond, doesn’t even turn to look at you. With a heavy sigh, you step into the hallway, Charles close behind you.

As the door clicks shut, you lean against the wall, suddenly feeling drained. Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“Are you okay?” He asks gently.

You nod against his chest, taking comfort in his warmth. “I will be. It’s just ... it’s a lot.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I know. But you’re not alone. We’ll get through this together.”

You look up at him, managing a small smile despite the turmoil of emotions swirling inside you. “Together. I like the sound of that.”

***

The soft glow of the setting sun filters through the curtains of Charles’ hotel suite, casting a golden light across the room. You sit on the plush sofa, your legs tucked beneath you, a glass of Prosecco cradled in your hands. Across from you, Charles leans against the minibar, his own glass in hand, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches you.

“What?” You ask, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks under his intense gaze.

Charles shakes his head, his smile widening. “Nothing. I just ... I can’t believe you’re really here. With me.”

You take a sip of your Prosecco, savoring the crisp, bubbly taste. “I’m having a hard time believing it myself. But I’m glad I am.”

Charles moves to join you on the sofa, settling in close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “How are you feeling? After everything that happened with Carlos ...”

You sigh, leaning back against the cushions. “Honestly? I feel ... lighter. Like a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying has been lifted.”

Charles nods, his expression thoughtful. “I’m glad. But I want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. If you need time, space ...”

You cut him off by placing your hand gently on his arm. “I appreciate that. But I’ve had years of space with Carlos. What I want now is to be here, with you.”

His eyes light up at your words, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. As he pulls back, you can’t help but smile at the joy radiating from him.

“You know,” you say, taking another sip of your Prosecco, “I have to admit, I was surprised when you ordered this.”

Charles raises an eyebrow. “The Prosecco? Why?”

You shrug, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Carlos always insisted on ordering Spanish cava. He said it was better. I never had the heart to tell him I preferred Prosecco.”

Charles looks at you incredulously. “You’re kidding. He never noticed?”

You shake your head. “Nope. I mean, I drank it, of course. But ... I don’t know. It just never seemed important enough to make a fuss over.”

Charles sets his glass down on the coffee table, turning to face you fully. “Y/N, listen to me. Your preferences, your likes and dislikes — they’re important. They matter. You matter.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you. That ... that means a lot.”

He reaches out, gently wiping away a tear that has escaped. “It’s the truth. And for the record, I’ve known you preferred Prosecco since that team dinner in Monza two years ago.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You remember that?”

Charles nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Of course. You lit up when they brought out the Prosecco. Your whole face changed. I’ve never seen someone so happy over a glass of bubbly.”

You laugh, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the alcohol. “I can’t believe you noticed that.”

“I notice everything about you,” Charles says softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I always have.”

You lean into his touch, your heart racing. “Like what?”

Charles’ thumb traces gentle circles on your skin as he speaks. “Like how you always twist your hair around your finger when you’re deep in thought. Or how you bite your lip to hide your smile when you’re trying not to laugh at one of the guys’ bad jokes.”

You feel a blush creeping up your neck, touched by his attention to detail. “What else?”

He grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, I know you have a secret stash of gummy bears in your purse for long flights. And that you always hum Dancing Queen under your breath when you’re in a good mood.”

You gasp in mock horror. “Charles Leclerc, have you been spying on me?”

He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “Not spying. Just ... paying attention. Is that okay?”

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat at the tenderness in his gaze. “It’s more than okay. It’s ... it’s wonderful.”

Charles leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re wonderful. And you deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates every little thing about you.”

You close the distance between you, capturing his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. When you pull back, you’re both a little breathless.

“Charles,” you murmur, “I think I’m falling for you.”

His face lights up with joy. “That’s good, because I’ve already fallen for you.”

You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in years. “Oh really? When did that happen?”

Charles pretends to think for a moment. “Hmm, probably around the time you yelled at that journalist for asking me stupid questions after my DNF in Canada.”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh god, I forgot about that. I was so embarrassed afterwards.”

He gently pries your hands away, his eyes shining with admiration. “Don’t be. It was amazing. No one’s ever defended me like that before.”

You shrug, feeling a bit sheepish. “He was being an ass. You didn’t deserve that after the race you had.”

Charles pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “See? That’s what I mean. You care. Deeply and fiercely. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

You snuggle into his side, reveling in the warmth and safety of his embrace. “You know, it’s funny. I always thought I was happy with Carlos. But being here with you ... it’s making me realize how much I was missing.”

Charles presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Like what?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. “Well, for one thing, this. Just sitting and talking, really talking. With Carlos, it always felt like we were just going through the motions, you know? Like we were playing the roles of the perfect couple without really connecting.”

Charles nods, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your arm. “I get that. It’s easy to fall into patterns, to stop really seeing each other.”

“Exactly,” you agree. “And it’s not just the big things. It’s the little stuff too. Like ...” You pause, a memory suddenly surfacing. “Oh! Like the flowers.”

Charles raises an eyebrow. “Flowers?”

You sit up, turning to face him. “Yeah. Carlos always sent me these huge bouquets of red roses. Which, don’t get me wrong, were beautiful. But ...”

“But they’re not your favorite,” Charles finishes for you.

You blink in surprise. “How did you know that?”

He grins, looking a bit bashful. “Remember that charity gala in Milan last year? You spent at least ten minutes gushing over the centerpieces.”

You gasp, the memory flooding back. “The peonies! Oh my god, Charles, how do you remember these things?”

He shrugs, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “Like I said, I pay attention. Especially when it comes to you.”

You feel your heart swell with affection. “Well, Mr. Attentive, what else have you noticed about me?”

Charles pretends to think hard, tapping his chin dramatically. “Let’s see ... I know you prefer your coffee with just a splash of milk, no sugar. You always double-knot your shoelaces before a run. Oh, and you have a secret obsession with cheesy 80s power ballads.”

You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. “Okay, now I know you’re making things up. There’s no way you could know about my power ballad addiction.”

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh really? So if I were to start singing Total Eclipse of the Heart, you wouldn’t immediately join in?”

Your jaw drops. “How ... how did you ...”

Charles grins triumphantly. “Team karaoke night in Singapore. You thought everyone was too drunk to remember, but I wasn’t as far gone as I let on.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god, I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

He gently pries your hands away, his expression soft and sincere. “Hey, no hiding. I loved it. You were so free, so happy. It was beautiful to watch.”

You feel tears prickling at your eyes again, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings. “Charles ...”

He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that have escaped. “Y/N, I want you to know that I see you. All of you. The good, the bad, the silly, the serious. And I love every part of it.”

You lean into his touch, your heart racing. “I’m starting to see you too, Charles. And I ... I think I might be falling in love with what I see.”

His face lights up with joy, and he pulls you in for a deep, passionate kiss. When you finally break apart, you’re both breathless and grinning.

“So,” Charles says, his voice low and husky, “what do you say we order some room service? I’m thinking ... chocolate lava cake for dessert?”

You gasp in delight. “How did you know that’s my favorite?”

He winks, reaching for the room service menu. “I told you, mon cœur. I pay attention.”

As Charles calls down to place the order, you lean back against the sofa, a contented smile playing on your lips. You can’t help but marvel at how different this feels from your relationship with Carlos. With Charles, you feel seen, heard, understood in a way you never have before.

When he hangs up the phone and rejoins you on the sofa, you curl into his side, feeling perfectly at home in his arms. As the night deepens around you, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and stolen kisses, you know that this is just the beginning of something beautiful. With Charles, you’re not just being loved — you’re being cherished, appreciated for every little thing that makes you who you are.

And as you drift off to sleep in his arms later that night, the taste of chocolate and Prosecco still lingering on your lips, you can’t help but feel that you’ve finally found where you truly belong.

***

Carlos stands at the edge of the pit lane, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before him. You and Charles are huddled together by the Ferrari garage, laughing and talking animatedly. The sight sends a sharp pang through Carlos’ chest, a mixture of anger, jealousy, and regret swirling in his gut.

He watches as Charles leans in, whispering something in your ear that makes you throw your head back in laughter. Carlos grits his teeth, remembering a time when he was the one to make you laugh like that.

“They look happy, don’t they?” A voice says beside him.

Carlos turns to see Lando standing there, a sympathetic look on his face. “What do you want?” Carlos growls, not in the mood for conversation.

Lando holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Just checking on you, mate. I know this can’t be easy to watch.”

Carlos scoffs, turning his attention back to you and Charles. “I’m fine. It’s not like I care what she does anymore.”

Even as he says the words, Carlos knows they’re a lie. He does care. He cares so much it feels like he’s being torn apart from the inside.

He watches as Charles pulls out a small package from his pocket, handing it to you with a flourish. Your eyes light up as you unwrap it, revealing what looks like a bag of candy.

“What’s that about?” Carlos mutters, more to himself than to Lando.

Lando squints, trying to get a better look. “Looks like ... gummy bears? Huh, I didn’t know Y/N liked those.”

Carlos feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “She doesn’t,” he says automatically. But even as the words leave his mouth, he sees the way you’re beaming at Charles, popping a gummy bear into your mouth with evident delight.

“You sure about that?” Lando asks, raising an eyebrow.

Carlos doesn’t respond, his mind racing. How had he never known you liked gummy bears? Had you ever mentioned it? Had he ever bothered to ask?

He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your laughter again. Charles is holding out his phone, showing you something on the screen. As you lean in to look, Charles’ arm slips around your waist, pulling you close.

Carlos feels his hands clench into fists at his sides. He wants to look away, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes from the scene.

“You know,” Lando says carefully, “maybe you should talk to them. Clear the air.”

Carlos shakes his head vehemently. “There’s nothing to talk about. She made her choice.”

Lando sighs. “Look, mate, I know you’re hurting. But-”

“But nothing,” Carlos snaps. “Just drop it.”

Lando holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m here if you need to talk, though.”

As Lando walks away, Carlos continues to watch you and Charles. He sees the way Charles’ hand rests on the small of your back, the way you lean into him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Suddenly, Charles looks up, his eyes meeting Carlos’ across the paddock. For a moment, they just stare at each other, an unspoken tension crackling between them. Then, to Carlos’ surprise, Charles says something to you and starts making his way over.

Carlos straightens, steeling himself for the confrontation. As Charles approaches, he can see you watching anxiously from a distance.

“Carlos,” Charles says, his voice cautious. “Can we talk?”

Carlos crosses his arms, his jaw clenched. “What’s there to talk about?”

Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know this situation is ... complicated. But I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you.”

Carlos laughs bitterly. “Hurt me? You stole my girlfriend. How did you think that was going to make me feel?”

Charles shakes his head. “I didn’t steal anyone. Y/N made her own choice.”

“Right,” Carlos spits. “And I’m sure you had nothing to do with that.”

Charles takes a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his composure. “I won’t deny that I had feelings for Y/N for a long time. But I never acted on them while you were together. Never.”

Carlos scoffs. “Oh, how noble of you.”

“Carlos, please,” Charles says, his voice softening. “I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. But can’t you see how happy she is?”

Carlos’ eyes flick back to you, standing by the garage and watching them anxiously. He hates to admit it, but you do look happy. Happier than he can remember seeing you in a long time.

“She was happy with me,” Carlos insists, but the words sound hollow even to his own ears.

Charles gives him a sad smile. “Was she? Really? Because from what she’s told me, there were a lot of things you never noticed about her.”

Carlos feels a flare of anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Charles says carefully, “that sometimes we take the people we love for granted. We stop seeing them, really seeing them.”

Carlos wants to argue, to defend himself, but he finds the words sticking in his throat. Because deep down, he knows Charles is right.

“Did you know,” Charles continues, his voice gentle, “that her favorite flowers are pink peonies? Not red roses?”

Carlos blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

Charles nods. “Or that she prefers Prosecco to cava? Or that she has a secret addiction to 80s power ballads?”

With each revelation, Carlos feels like he’s being hit with a fresh wave of regret. How had he missed all of these things? How had he failed to notice what made you, you?

“I ...” Carlos starts, then stops, unsure of what to say.

Charles puts a hand on his shoulder, the gesture surprisingly kind given the circumstances. “I’m not telling you this to hurt you. I’m telling you because I want you to understand. Y/N deserves to be with someone who sees her, who appreciates every little thing about her.”

Carlos nods slowly, the fight draining out of him. “And that someone is you?”

Charles smiles softly. “I hope so. I’m certainly trying to be.”

They stand in silence for a moment, both looking over at you. You’re still watching them anxiously, clearly worried about what they might be saying to each other.

Finally, Carlos speaks, his voice rough with emotion. “Just ... just promise me you’ll treat her right. Better than I did.”

Charles nods solemnly. “I promise. With everything I have.”

As Charles turns to walk back to you, Carlos calls out, “Charles?”

Charles pauses, looking back over his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Carlos says quietly. “For loving her the way she deserves.”

Charles gives him a small, understanding smile before continuing on his way. Carlos watches as he returns to you, sees the way your face lights up as Charles pulls you into a comforting embrace.

As he turns to walk away, Carlos feels a mix of emotions swirling inside him. There’s still pain, still regret, but there’s also a glimmer of something else. Something that feels a lot like acceptance.

He realizes now that he had taken you for granted, had failed to see the beautiful, complex person you truly were. And while it hurts to admit it, he knows that Charles sees all of that and more.

As he makes his way back to his own garage, Carlos makes a silent promise to himself. To pay more attention, to really see the people in his life. Because he never wants to make the same mistake again, never wants to lose someone else because he failed to appreciate them.

And as he glances back one last time, seeing you and Charles walking hand-in-hand, laughing and lost in your own world, Carlos feels a weight lift from his shoulders.

It’s not easy, and it still hurts, but he knows now that this is how it should be. You deserve to be with someone who knows you, truly knows you, inside and out.

And as much as it pains him to admit it, that someone isn’t him. It’s Charles.

With a deep breath, Carlos turns away, ready to face whatever comes next. He’s lost you, but in doing so, he’s gained a valuable lesson. One he won’t soon forget.

[nightingale-prompts]

God's TV- DC x DP prompt

Accidentally summoning a god from another dimension can happen, especially when cults are involved. However, no can could predict that the not only was the god a teenage boy but also a very bored teenage boy who didn't want to leave.

So he stayed and moved into Titans tower.

Danny is helpful (when he wants to be) but rarely goes out on missions. He says they are boring and nothing is dangerous enough to exert the effort. Instead, he minds the medical bay. Having a healer more than made up for the lack of help.

It's not like anyone disliked Danny or thought he didn't do anything it was just that he was unpredictable. Danny could be nice, considerate, and even sweet if he was working in the medbay. He could also be a pain in the ass anywhere else. He loved pranks and scaring people with his powers. He was harmless though.

No one really knew what he did all day. He was usually in his room doing something they guested. Said room was an anomaly. It was larger on the inside having been made into a pocket dimension. The appearance and organization of the room changed every time you went in.

It was after one mission that the team learned what was in the room.

A rogue had used their invention to erase Superboy's memories and they didn't know what to do. They took him to Danny who was currently rearranging the medicine by color. They hoped that his powers covered mind-altering afflictions. Unfortunately, Danny couldn't wave a hand and fix this.

Instead, Danny took the group to his room. The decor was neon Tokyo meets space right now. The furniture was currently floating and almost hitting Wonder Girl in the head with an end table. Of course, there was no gravity here.

"Stay here while I grab it," Danny said flying up the vertical corridor.

While he was gone the room rearranged itself into a contemporary format. The furniture grounded itself and shifted into a normal living room.

Danny returned with a cart and a headset. He placed a card he pulled out of the cart into the headset and put it on the dazed Superboy's head.

"Wait what is that?" Tim asked.

"It's his memories. I kept a backup in case this happened." Danny shrugged.

Immediately everyone began asking what the hell does that mean and why does he have that.

"Oh please, this dimension has this happened all the time. Amnesia is so cliché and cheap. I saw a pattern and decided the easiest way to prevent you from losing the entirety of your lives was to make save states of your memories." Danny said matter of fact.

Robin pinched the bridge of his nose.

Impulse studied the rack of cases and looking for the card with his name on it.

Wondergirl sighed, she was used to this from Robin but even he wouldn't go this far.

"What? It's not like just anyone can find these. Only you can access your own memories anyways. I just decided to repurpose my RE:Viewer." Danny pouted.

"What is a reviewer?" Wally asked flipping through the cases. Each one had titles like moves or shows with an arrangement of stickers.

"The RE:Viewer is something I created to catalog things I've seen looking into other dimensions. I don't have an infinite memory you know. But the longer I have my title the more I'll lose touch with my mortality. These things help me stay close to people by giving me the chance to remember how it feels. I also have been using them to get the stories of others. Keeping their experiences like you'd keep a TV show or movie. So many stories could have been lost to time but now they are saved. I use them to teach myself." Danny smiled.

The concept genuinely sounded interesting. Like experiencing a movie in 4d.

It had been 3 minutes before Kon took off the headset and back to his old self.

Danny pulled the input card out and it disappeared into another realm with a flick of the wrist. Danny was completely honest that the copies were inaccessible to everyone but him.

"You feeling alright Superboy? Your memory should be backed up until a week ago." Danny said shining a light in his eye.

"I'm fine. I think. What happened?" Kon asked batting the light out of his eyes.

"Explanation later. Take a nap first. You aren't concussed at least." Danny informed.

"What are the stickers for?" Wally said pointing at the rainbow of colors the card cases had.

"Just the emotions associated with the experiences. Orange is comedy, red is action, pink is romance, and blue is tragedy." Danny listed. "That one with the pink is one of my favorites. I meddled a bit in that world. Two people who had never met fell in love at two points at different times. One of them was doomed to die but I worked my magic on a mirror that allowed them to meet once. They shared notes left in different places for the other months ahead. Makes you believe in true love. A real tear-jerker."

"What about the black stickers?" Wally asked.

"Don't touch the black ones," Danny said darkly, smacking his hand away. "You don't need to know about those. I don't like thinking about them."

"So you just take the memories of others and put them inside your machine to replay later?" Batgirl asked. "Isn't that kind of wrong?"

"No, I asked permission. I usually pull them aside at some point and ask. If it's my memories (that's the green stickers) I don't need to. The rainbow ones are simulations. Like a video games." Danny responded patting her on the back for not being to hard on him about this admittedly weird situation.

"So what's the black one with the rainbow sticker?" Wally asked picking up the case that was obviously stuffed in the back.

"STOP TOUCHING THOSE!" Danny yelled pulling him away.

[wandaslittlebird]

As The Summer Ends

Wanda x Natasha x Reader

As the summer comes to a close, you and your girlfriends celebrate with one more day in the sun.

CW: Pure fluff, R calls WandaNat Mama/Daddy but only like once.

Word Count: 1.3k(ish)

A/N: Happy last day of summer everyone! I hope everyone had a wonderful season, and you’re all excited to see what wonders the fall brings.

It was your first year ever attending Pepper Potts’ yearly “end of the summer” pool party: the celebration she had every year the day before it was time to cover the pool for the winter. You’d been invited as Wanda and Natasha’s plus one, as you still didn’t really know Pepper, or anyone else in attendance.

Much to your dismay, none of the other women seemed too eager to actually be in the pool. In fact, aside from you, Natasha was the only other person in the water. And she wasn’t even swimming. She was leaned up against the side of the pool talking to Maria.

Sure it was a little cold, as it was late September and there was a growing chill in the air, but you never got to go swimming. You did so love the water.

Wanda’s heart swelled with affection as she watched you from a beach chair, flopping around the water like a fish. Your child-like nature knew no bounds. You didn’t seem to have a care in a world about what the adults around you were doing, despite being one yourself. You swam laps around the pool, did handstands in the water, dove off the side and swam to the bottom of the deep end. You seemed to be keeping yourself entertained well.

However, as time wore on, Wanda could see you getting restless. You tried to join Natasha and Maria’s conversation, but they didn’t seem interested. Wanda frowned as she watched you try to talk, only to be ignored and talked over by her wife and her friend. Your joyful disposition cracked into one of isolation as you slowly began to feel like an outsider in this group of people.

She huffed, tempted to go over and have a word with Natasha about ignoring you. But, as she remembered how much you had had playing in the water, she got a better idea. She sat down on the lip of the pool, putting her feet into the cool water.

“Honey!” she shouted, making you turn your head as you popped up out of the water. She curled her fingers, beckoning you towards her. Obediently, you stopped everything you were doing to join her on the edge of the pool, laying your head on your hands next to her to avoid getting her wet.

“Yes?” you asked, innocently looking up at her from the water.

She lifted your head and bent over to whisper in your ear. “If you can knock Tasha over in the water, I’ll get you ice cream on the way home.”

You nervously turned around to find Natasha where she’d been this whole time, talking to Maria by the side of the pool. Her top half was completely out of the water. She hadn’t even gotten her hair wet. “But she’s talking to Maria. It would be impolite to-” you attempted to explain.

She cut you off with a soft smile. “Don’t worry, little love. I’m sure their conversation is drier than a sack of flour anyway. Go make your daddy actually have some fun.” She winked, lightly pinching your cheek.

A smile slowly grew across your face as you turned away from Wanda. You planned your approach carefully, deciding to launch yourself off the side wall and throw yourself into the back of her knees as hard as you possibly could.

Natasha stumbled as you knocked against her, immediately annoyed. “What the-” She glanced down at you in the water, then up at Wanda, smirking smugly by the side of the pool. She rolled her eyes and picked you up out of the water.

You squealed as you were caught, disappointed but not surprised that your first attempt had failed.

“Hold on, Maria,” Natasha joked. “I gotta teach this little punk a lesson.” You tried to squirm out of her grasp, but you were quickly thrown ass over head into the deep end of the pool.

You squealed again with excited delight. Wanda smiled, watching as you quickly turned tailed to go for Natasha’s feet again. Once again, you were dragged out of the water and tossed back into the deep end. Natasha had no difficulty dexterously dodging your attempts to knock her down, but you didn’t even really care to be losing the bet. It was reward enough to finally have somebody to play with, even if you were devastatingly out matched.

You were getting out of breath after a few rounds of fighting Natasha just to be effortlessly tossed back into the water again. You grabbed at the side of the pool, breathing heavy. Natasha was laughing now too, enjoying your frazzled and breathless face. She was glad that Wanda could at least pick a game that took way more energy out of you than her.

You turned around, ready to make another pass at Natasha. You didn’t actually think you'd ever be able to knock her down, but you liked it when she threw you into the water. You grabbed at her legs again. However, this time, before she could grab you and pull you out of the water, you saw two scarlet tendrils wrap around her ankles. She shouted before she was quickly pulled under the water.

You stood up, a little dazed, to find Natasha coming out of the water as well, completely and utterly soaked. Her nicely curled hair was now flat and wet against her head.

“You got her!” Wanda laughed.

“Oh it’s on,” Natasha challenged, quickly making her way to the end of the pool, where Wanda sat. Before she could reach her, though, she was wrapped with more scarlet tendrils that hoisted her out of the water, carried her to the deep end of the pool, and dropped her in.

You shrieked with joyous surprise, making your way back to Wanda as well. She let you approach, knowing that, unlike Natasha, you would never dream of pulling her into the water. “Mama, can you throw me next?”

Wanda’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You want me to throw you in the water like Tasha?”

You nodded eagerly.

She wrapped you up in her magic, pulling you from the water and carrying you across the pool. You giggled as the magic disappeared and you were dropped into the water.

Natasha climbed out of the water, grabbing a towel and drying herself off before sitting down next to Wanda. She laughed as you eagerly swam all the way back to them, looking up at Wanda expectantly.

“Again?” Wanda chuckled.

You nodded, laughing uncontrollably as she picked you again and threw you into the water. She went a bit higher this time, not dropping you until you were a good ten feet above the water.

She threw you a few more times, changing her tactics a little every time. Sometimes she dropped you in upside down. Other times she would hold you still above the water while you waited in anxious anticipation to be dropped. You were roaring with excitement and laughter the whole time.

It wasn’t long before you were completely and utterly spent, physically exhausted from all the swimming. Natasha stood next to the steps, a fluffy towel in her outspread arms. You breathlessly climbed up into her arms, allowing yourself to be dried off.

Wanda made a space for you to sit in between her legs. You happily sat down, putting your feet back into the water as she pulled you so your back was flush to her front. You cuddled into her tiredly.

Somebody tapped your shoulder from behind. You turned your head to find Pepper, holding a waffle cone with chocolate ice cream. “I heard ice cream was on the line. And it looks like you won the bet.”

You smiled and took the ice cream, eagerly licking at it before it could melt in the sun. “Thank you, Mrs. Potts.”

“Of course, kiddo,” she said, playfully ruffling your hair.

Wanda laughed as you proceeded to get the ice cream all over your face. She periodically wiped it away with a towel.

You would miss days like this as the air grew colder. There would be no more pool days, no more opportunities to comfortably spend the days outside in the sun. But fall brought new excitement of its own.

You could only hope you’d be tucked between these same arms by the fireplace come winter.

[evilminji]

Back on my: Holotuber Jedi Youngling - OC Thoughts >.>

Prev <-

You think folks debate at first? Shtick or Real Thing? Like? No... no WAY could that be one of those Mysterious Mystic Space Cult Kids. No WAY. They would NEVER let their kid be unsupervised on the Net.

But like... (and since I'm a She, gonna use She, but realistically could be any pronouns here) she LOOKS like she's recording from a...? Is that a closet? This one looks like a vent. THIS video is definitely some sort of maintenance area. So she's definitely sneaking...

Ooooh! Thaaaat's a Jedi! REAL FUCKING JEDI. Just dropped down silently behind her. Arms crossed. Mouse droids be snitching. BUSTED.

:T

"Uuuuuuh, h-heeey, Master Uvalii. Fancy seeing YOU here!"

"Yes. Quite interesting isn't it? Since you should not be able to access this area at all, much less to achieve holonet access. Of which we are both aware you are expressly Forbidden To DO unsupervised."

".........I can explain?"

"Please. Do."

*feed ends, chat goes fucking NUTS*

Like? Oh SHIT. Baby Jedi in troooouble. But also? Oh no! What's gonna happen?! Are they gonna be okay?! S-should they TELL somebody? What do Jedi do to kids who disobey them? Does anyone actually KNOW? What DO any of us know about them!? Someone find their Com Code! MA! MA, I need you to yell at space monks! An adorable CHILD MIGHT BE AT STAKE!!! D:>

Even coming BACK on? For a supervised feed? Going "no, I'm just in trouble. Have to right paragraphs and meditate on 'why I felt the need to do this' (even though I KNOW why, not that they'll LISTEN. They just hope I'll meditate until I come to an answer they LIKE)" under the offscreen supervision of a teacher or Creche master?

Whole ass Net gonna be like "youngling! Blink Twice if they're holding you hostage! We can afford bounty hunters! We got a group pot thing going already!!! Aaaaaaaa-!"

Like? *waves at the camera and chat* she TOLD you. They don't believe you. This is part of WHY she wants to do what she's doing. Palpatine's and his Master's machinations have been building for a while. Eroding trust. The Jedi have become strange, dangerous, semi-mythical cryptids with magic powers we must HOPE are benevolent.

Not people.

Why would they expect some unfeeling, magical, sword-wielding space legend to be patient or kind to children? To even have the capacity? We are said to kidnap children and be unfeeling. Can not reach enough people to show otherwise. To reveal the mundanity of our lives. The traditions. The norms.

Food, children, laughter.

The Common Good.

And like? She obviously isn't gonna name Sith-ly NAMES. Not on CAMERA. But her lil "why I wanna play the tooka game and chat about lunch" speech? Convincing. Calms chat down. Still in trouble, mind you. But... provided it's SUPERVISED? And they work out some sort of effective moderation? Alright.

It's a matter of SAFETY, youngling. And no matter HOW much good you wish to do? They will NOT be sacrificing children to achieve it. That is NOT the Jedi way. There are plenty of old masters who would live nothing more then to ramble all day into cameras, if only to here themselves talk. (Oh? Good to know. Guest speakers pog?)

Like? Imagine making a game. Have a "mystical sage" character you TOTALLY BASED of Jedi in it. And your feed gets? Flooded with XD reactions in response to some smol bby streamer playing it? You go to check it out. Cause you're kinda a big deal on your planet. And?

Oh No™

That tiny streamer? Is a tiny JEDI streamer. Who is sitting there, in the stills, going O.o like "Wut." And the next still? Her lil friends are pulled in. The next? A teenager. The NEXT. An adult. The one after THAT. A few adults looking over her shoulder. Then a CROWD. All deeply, deeply confused looking.

The comments are DYING. Howling with laughter. The Jedi were so earnest. Trying to identify which Era you must be referencing. Which sect. But the head dress... cultural, maybe? It doesn't fit with the features though. Could be adopted. A hint at, I believe the term was, "lore"? No, no, those are DEFINITELY padawan beads! But so MANY? In THAT order?

They aren't even connected to a braid! And he's supposed to be a Master, right? But, wait. Perhaps it's meant to suggest he is a Padawan of the Force itself? A student of life? No, that wouldn't make sense! Stolen? It could suggest he has TAKEN the beads? Is regurgitating stolen texts without true understanding? Much like wearing bead he did not EARN?

They keep going and going. Ripping your character design to SHREDS. Picking it apart. Not even meanly! They are genuinely confused. AND IT ONLY MAKES THE CHAT LAUGH HARDER. Because it devolves into a MARATHON, after the game has been paused, of chat spamming different character names? For the Jedi to go "???" Over.

T...that's not? What? How does he even EAT in those robes? And those ones don't seem very non-humanoid friendly. Is he FLOATING HIS SWORD WITH THE FORCE? WHY!? Just keep it on your belt!!!

And? Now every game developer in the galaxy is PARANOID AF. Either make their mystics Very Obviously NOT Jedi rip offs... or shoot a "if I pay you $20 will you consult on something real quick" email. It's just... just easier man. Last guy got laughed into oblivion. Oof.

They can bill it as "Realism" or something. See guys? WE do or reasearch! Give us your credits!

Oh YEAH? Says the growing fan base of this Funky Lil Monk Child. Then put you game where your communication organs are. Send her the game, you cowards.

Do It.

Cut to "oh no, guys! The sorta-jedi died! What? Next objective? No. No we gotta give him a funeral! Oh good, we ca-BURY HIM?! What!? No!!! I could understand if he was from a race that held beliefs that bodies must be returned to the soil from whence they came, but this guy is a SORTA-JEDI! Absolutely NOT!"

"Let's cut down some trees. WE are building him a PYRE. Never ran one of these, but I can look it up. Gimme a moment. Okay. Draaaaag, him on to it. Where's his weapon. There! Thanks chat! On it goes too. Okay. Looking it up..... got it. Ahem...!"

*hold funeral for the sage character by burning his body*

*mods are IMMEDIATELY created to change the "burial" scene to a "Funeral pyre" with somber music*

Just? I can not let go? Of how the subtle shift would spread? Not in shining senatorial halls, but in class rooms and living rooms, dingy pubs and long hyperdrive flights? Anywhere boredom might be found and "hey check this out" might spread? Where someone else, might overhear and get curious?

Lik?? Imagine being the bounty hunter, who fuckin HATES Jedi, thinks they're sanctimonious BASTARDS, hearing someone snort laugh. Just... just fucking CHOKE on their cheep beer. Oh? Now everyone's interested. What's funny?

It's a teeny, tiny, lil jedi youngling. Playing that new Bounty 5 game. Unrealistic as hell. But they are going "I am a MASTER of stealth. A LEGEND of the hunt. You will not see me. I am sneaky. So, so, sneeeeakyyyyy!" As they concentrate on sneaking through back alleys.

Only for their character to fall RIGHT of a ledge, bounce against three buildings, smash into a parked Speeder, and roll right into a cut scene. Where they are call the "greatest bounty hunter of all time".

They look so incredulous.

"Are you SURE? Cause I'm fairly certain that phrase alone is banned for the trouble it causes, near most Bounty outposts. Could be the concussion talking though!"

They are? A sarcastic lil SHIT. Roast EVERYTHING. Know a surprising number of them. Given that they gave the Duros support character a modded in hat. Named him Definitely-Not-Cad. The fake look mustache REALLY sells it. Yeah, Bane. Clearly not you. YOU don't have a mustaches. *watches as she unleashes the Not Cad Bane like a highly tactical meat thresher on legs* brutal lil shit. They like her.

Granted, it's only BECAUSE it's not real she does so.

But I just? Have so many ideas? Spam the Galaxy with "this is who we are. We are people. Develop bonds with us. Care about us. KNOW us." Because the Sith can not possibly kill us all. Can not stop truth, so widely spread. Light dies, when you smother it in closed hands, hidden away in dark and long forgotten places. When you let fear dictate your actions.

It thrives in the open. With people. With the chance to SPREAD. Grow. Bloom.

It's about talking and caring. Being heard. What better place? Then on the screen in their pocket?

@babbling-babull @hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @spidori

[enhasparadise]

TOKYO ON EDGE. ˒˒ ﹙ niki! ﹚

╰┈⪼ moving to Japan wasn’t really on your plan through the year, but with your specialty being Japanese you had no choice but to accept. arriving in the middle of the year you found it strangely easy enough to integrate into your well-known class but over the days everything seemed to become boring and everything looked the same, the only thing that seemed to interest you was discovering the streets of Japan and the cultural differences with your native country. but, what you hadn't imagined was coming face to face with a car race, where one of the participants was one of your classmates, Nishimura Niki.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ street racer!niki x student!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 older brother!jay, best friend!sunoo, best friend!haerin, bully!woonhak and heeseung.

genre﹙💬﹚⸝⸝⸝ serie, street racing au, enemies to lovers, kind of bully!niki, slow burn.

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ harsh talking, mention of violence and bullying, mention of drinking and smoking, cursing, mention of mental health, niki’s really dumb sometimes.

taglist ‎⸝⸝⸝ @r1kification @cherryrikis @moonpri @who-tf-soddhi @heeswif3y comment to be added to the taglist !!

rain’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ i wanna scream so bad because I love the prologue so much I really hope you would like this story as much as I do

all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

MASTERLIST | NEXT >>

000. boys like him get all the girls, except one.

guys like Nishimura niki thrive on danger, beautiful, intelligent beings drunk on adrenaline and always in the spotlight when trouble is on the front line.

those who have a reputation established by rumors and stories told across the school grounds, established by behavior worthy of the high school bad boy. the rumors stuck to their skin and all the bad choices followed him like their shadows.

guys like Nishimura riki had their populations following them no matter where their feet landed, for good or bad reasons.

those who noticed every girl pointing at them in the corridors of the establishment, who heard the whispers said about them no matter what room they set foot in. The hateful looks of the other boys falling on them while their girlfriends were fangirling over them.

guys like Nishimura Niki were known for their troublemaking behavior, who were fearless and who did not hesitate to use the strength of their hands to resolve any conflict.

those who had no shame in ending up with scratched, bloody hands at the end of a fight if that required it and who would be proud to see their opponents unable to get up without the help of someone.

guys like Nishimura Niki were the very definition of bad boys, who had no shame in behaving rashly around a teacher and ended up in the principal's office.

those who had no shame in taking responsibility for their faults before anyone with greater authority. just as they had no shame in disrespecting authority when the moment required it.

guys like Nishimura Niki were the type who came to class with bandages on their arms and hands after boxing practice.

those who spend their time in gyms, hitting punching bags for hours and venting all the hatred they felt.

guys like Nishimura Niki abandoned their boring student lives for late-night escapades and unconscious decisions to find themselves in the heart of pure danger, who loved the sound of cars through the empty streets of the night.

those who spent their nights behind the wheel of cars, adrenaline coursing through their veins as their feet mashed the gas pedal and the engine roared through the streets of Japan, seeking that freedom.

guys like Nishimura niki were the boys who were way too popular with the girls, who made every girl who saw them scream and who enraged the boys who weren't as popular.

those who spent their time rejecting girls who confessed to them no matter how they said it, who broke many hearts a day simply because they were in no way interested in love.

guys like Nishimura Niki didn't care about love and have no interest in it.

those who had no time to think about love, who simply did not prefer to have this waste of time.

guys like Nishimura who had no interest in shy, good girls, with only good grades and who had this cute and innocent look.

who didn't like girls like that. . . well normally they weren’t supposed to.

since your arrival in Japan and in this high school you had always hated boys like Nishimura Niki. No, you hated Nishimura Niki. Since you unfortunately met him in the corridors you had felt this feeling of disgust.

his name being whispered in every corridor, his first name which absolutely did not leave the lips of each of the girls you met no matter the day. you had always despised this name since you met him and you had never understood the interest that all his girls had for him.

every day he would walk into the classroom and while all the girls would whisper and be in complete awe of his good looks and demeanor, you would find yourself spitting out his every flaw while your best friend listened to you every time.

your eyes rolled in annoyance almost automatically when he was close to you. even when he wasn't close to you. he was so popular that you heard about him no matter where you were and it had the potential to drive you absolutely crazy.

the worst of all being that, despite all your efforts Niki did everything to make your life complicated, entering into challenges with you regarding exam grades, annoying you with just a simple sentence and this way he had of destroying the plans you made for every event, simply because he was popular and had no problem placing himself above you, despite your best efforts.

his behavior making you scream no matter what he did, making you on edge when you just wanted to spend some quiet time in the library.

oh you really hated Nishimura niki.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Life has been really cruel to me. Maybe some hcs of the different ways Rindou says I love you? I love your content thank you for all that you do.

Oh that's too bad, I hope things get better for you! But here are the different ways Rindou says "I love you"

Definitely more of an actions kinda guy then a words guy when it comes to showing affection. Just feels more comfortable doing nice things to show he loves you rather then saying it.

However when he's drunk (or tired) he says it a lot. He can actually be a bit clingy while drunk and will pester you for kisses while proclaiming his love.

Always gives you his jacket when you seem cold

Drives you to anywhere you need to go 

If you seem interested in his food he'll offer you some (sometimes with the excuse that he's not hungry)

Doesn't hesitate to defend you against anyone who says anything bad.

Sometimes if you're watching his DJ performance, he'll lock eyes with you and wink before playing a song he knows you like.

Puts his arm around you if you guys are walking in a kinda sketchy place.

Let's you play about with his hair (he never let's anyone else do this)

Goes to stores he's never been to before and buys things he may find a bit embarrassing (manga or romance stories anything like that you're into) but he knows you like it.

Asked Ran for advice when he first met you despite knowing he would get teased (and still get's teased about it)

Always carries your bags for you if he thinks they're heavy

Has a habit of buying you random things he think you'd like or that reminded him of you. 

Automatically thinks of you when he hears the word 'pretty'

Let's you steal all his best t shirts and hoodies

He's very good at reading your emotions and takes the time to make things better for you.

Actually cares what you think about how he looks/ acts. He rarely ever cares what other's think.

Knows your favourite everything, your favourite food, favourite drink, favourite colour etc

Says a lot of little phrases like "stay safe", "text me when you get there", "I care about you" as well as a few pet names for you.

When he does say he loves you he blushes a lot

And finally, you're the one he took ages choosing an engagement ring for. The one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. He may not say the words too often but he has lots of little actions that speak for him, that say "I love you"

[wandixx]

I'm not much for naming things but: Danny's associated with green and M'gann's a White Martian, so... Spearmint (like the green and white mint candies)? Just a thought.

Prompt: Magic removed Amity Park from the map. JL didn't notice, but in an Alderaan type moment (Star Wars ref. yay!) The martian on Watchtower monitoring duty heard the residents get silent unanimously.

Of course they need to be investigated! So M'gann gets her watch partner to take over and flies there, discovering an odd green rift of death energy doing a black hole effect and it sucks her in. Danny gets landed on/ flown into when she tumbles through the rift. She tried getting a message through to JL when she felt herself getting sucked in, but the message was not received due to ectoplasmic interference.

So Danny has to figure out how to get her AND Amity Park back home!

(Just a thought. I'm curious how you flesh it out if you do!)

This is such an interesting idea, and it definitely deserves much more story than I can write in single prompt, so this here is just a beginning and I will continue. I hope it's up to your expectations

Also, I really love the Spearmint idea

*****

M’gann understood the importance of monitor duty in Watchtower, she really did. She also understood why they were taught it while still in this gray area between fully dependent sidekicks and fully independent heroes, that was the main reason the Young Justice Team even existed.

It didn’t make it any less boring. Even when she had a decent duty partner. Don't get her wrong, Green Arrow was a much better option than Batman or Superman, it was just awkward. At least he seemed equally done with it and didn't scold her for jumping between satellite cameras just a bit too fast to actually ‘monitor’ anything.

And it was only twenty minutes into the two hour shift.

One of the sixty (or so) screens, the one directly in front of her, blinked to the view of the American Midwest. She was about to skip further, when a sudden movement caught her attention. She clicked a few keys to review the footage and asked, still unsure if her eyes weren't deceiving her.

“Did the entire city… just disappear?“

Green Arrow nodded, equally stunned.

“I'm going to check this out” she spluttered, already flying out of the room and doing her best to get Zeta to send her as close as possible. It was a bit tricky when she couldn't see the keyboard. She managed though, so before the adult hero even finished yelling that it was above her skill level, she was out.

From there, getting to the disappeared city was a piece of cake.

She stopped right in tracks when the thing came in view. M'gann had no idea how to describe it. It was a green and white and black storm but not, glass, see-through dome but not, deep space but also decidedly not. It made her want to run away but also come closer, almost like it was tugging at her. Like some pseudo, mental in nature, gravitation.

Oh, wait, no. It was an actual, physical force that after a quick test turned out to be inescapable for her.

Green Arrow, perhaps, maybe probably was kinda right. It was so high above her skill level that a balled napkin from this height would cause serious damage. Thank Batman for comms that she could use to call a backup!

The comms, that, of course, didn't work the one time she needed them.

She sent the message anyway, describing everything to the best of her ability, even though it was only a tip of the iceberg. Just in case, if the magical storm thing just made her comm one way communication only. It was highly unlikely, but who was she, if not an optimist.

She barely closed her mouth, when she was jerked sideways before the whole world became blurred.

She later would have a hard time telling anyone how it felt, to be inside the thing. She was basically powerless, thrown around randomly despite clearly keeping all of her abilities. She couldn't see, couldn't tell which way was up and down, couldn't change direction even a little bit. The rumble of the thing was so loud she couldn't hear her thoughts, throwing her brain so off the loop she forgot what her name was. She was crying probably, almost puking, her limbs hitting any and every part of her body.

At first, she didn't even realize she was out, so dazed from the ride. She didn't even see the flying boy until a while after she crashed into him, throwing them both off the sky. Neither of them caught them before they slammed into the ground. Somehow she ended up cushioning the boy's fall. M’gann couldn’t breathe for a moment. She kinda deserved it for ramming into him in the first place though.

By the time she could use her lungs and behave like a social creature again, the boy scrambled off her and just crouched, intensely staring, anxious and awestruck at the same time. She sat up and gave him once over herself.

He was around her physical age, but much skinnier than her or anybofnher teammates, build like a twig. He had fluffy, white, almost glowing hair, caucasian complexion, and wore a black and white jumpsuit with a tool belt. Big ‘P’ on his chest indicated he was someone from a hero/villain scene, and from general vibes she got, M’gann was leaning towards a hero. He was kinda cute. She coughed awkwardly when she realized how long they just sat in silence.

“Hi?”

Apparently it was enough to release an incoherent babbling from the boy.

“Hi, um… Miss Martian, ma'am? I'm Phantom. What are you doing here? Is the rest of your Team going to fall off the sky too? Justice League?”

“Not right now probably”

She was ignored. Phantom just kept panicking.

“Is this some of your villain's schemes? Are you alright? You crashed pretty hard, sorry I landed on top of you by the way, do you–?”

“I'm fine, don't worry I got worse”

“Sure…”

“Sorry I threw you off the sky”

“Not your fault, really, it's fi–”

“You asked what I'm doing here. I went on my own to investigate when I saw the city blink out of existence and got sucked in. I'm not sure if my report from site made it through, but they know where I went, so they'll soon come to help, don't worry”

Phantom did not stop worrying.

“Alright, cool, cool” he ran his hand through his hair, tugging at them “The Justice League knows you mysteriously disappeared along with an entire city. This is fine, totally fine, absolutely–”

“You're panicking”

“No shit Sherlock. Someone kidnapped my city again and I have no idea how to fix it because my usual tactic is ‘punch the cause of the problem into submission’ and this time I can't punch the storm. Now you're here so if something happens, I’ll have pissed of Justice League to worry about because, of course, it will be my fault. You could be overshadowed and I have no clue what's going on but I have to fix it as soon as–”

“Breathe Phantom“ she interrupted again, projecting what the Team called ‘calming vibes’. Since it didn't involve outright entering someone's brain and humans almost didn't react to it, it was an okay thing to do without asking even on non-villains. “Remember, I'm a hero, not a damsel in the distress you have to protect non stop”

“Of course, you're not. You're Miss Martian. You're amazing, but it doesn't give me any more of an idea on what's going on nor what to do with Justice League when they come, obviously furious because everyone in Amity and their mother will testify that it was somehow my fault, especially if–”

“Hey, hey, none of that. I know you're a good guy and they’ll too. I will vouch for you if for some reason they get misled”

Phantom looked her in the eyes as if he was trying to read her mind himself without even an ounce of psychic powers. She could tell if he used it.

“I could be a bad guy,” he said seriously after a moment of silence.

“I know you're not”

“You don't know me”

“You spent almost all of our interaction agonizing over how to save your city. It's not typical bad guy behavior”

“I could be acting”

M’gann didn't even dignify it with her response other than an incredulous stare.

“ Alright, if I've been acting, I would be a lot cooler but still… I could be acting!”

“I'm a literal psychic, remember? I didn't read your thoughts, don't worry, I know it's invasive for humans. But I got a general overview of who you are, and your vibes matched pretty well with the vibes of good guys”

“Sure, of course, why not,” he muttered, taking a moment to reboot “Why is this my life now?”

M’gann decided it wasn't to her and well… Phantom wasn't wrong, she didn't know him, so however she'd try to answer it was pretty much hit or miss. But from what she'd seen of him, she was curious to learn more.

“Nevermind, let's get you a Specter Deflector before anyone tries to use you as a meatsuit” he said, catching her wrist to drag her somewhere.

She let him lead her. He still didn’t have any nefarious reasoning, and hey! Maybe she'll finish this adventure with a new teammate!

[Sure M’gann. Just a teammate. Don't worry, Danny won't be a panicked mess all of the time here]

[creatingblackcharacters]

As October approaches, I would like to encourage everyone to watch Jordan Peele films if they haven't already. It's quality horror with Black characters whose experiences as Black people actually play into the genre. I feel like Peele's contributions were a defibrillator we all needed. (IMO there was a lull where storytelling was taking a backseat to edginess, but these movies gave me some hope again.) Not to mention, his movies star Black people with full stories, meaningful action, and chilling commentary. Favorite characters galore. Even if you don't like to dissect horror, his content is enjoyable.

The easiest to recommend, personally, is Nope. A sci-fi Western horror, which sounds like a lot, but it's actually the best and SUPER fun. It's not nearly as scary as the other Peele movies, and it's a good start to anyone interested.

MY favorite character is Otis Junior Haywood, our main protagonist. He runs the family business: they're trained horse handlers for the film industry. He's softspoken but responsible and sensible, and is trying to take care of things after his father passes from a tragic accident. He's much better with horses than with people, but he's sharp and serious and sentimental. Even when he has to resort to selling horses to a local theme park, he wants to acquire them back and give them a good, long life.

The fan favorite is Emerald, his sister. She's funny, playful, and easygoing. She's OJ's confidant, but also a free spirit who is exploring all her options and trying to find her own place in Hollywood, so long as it's away from horse training. Unfortunately, it's not going well, as CGI and changing technology are quickly replacing all their gigs. The siblings notice paranormal activity in their area, though, and it's Em's idea to capture video proof of its existence so they can save the family business.

I think about OJ so much. He's a well-written character and every single interaction he has serves immense purpose-- and even the moments when he's all alone in the open, it's less that he's waiting for something to happen and more that he's watchful and observant. No second feels wasted while riding behind his eyes. He also has an EXTREMELY interesting foil to another character, whose trauma in film has been distorted to an extreme form of profiteering and delusion. I do love Em and my family thinks she's the best character, but OJ as our main protagonist is a perfect fit and I love how he was made for the role.

The main themes in Nope are about spectacle and exploitation: a legacy can be built on the remissions and injuries of others, like Hollywood and its unfair treatment of Black people; it's about the illusion of power between an animal handler (man) and a wild animal (the unknowable); it's about bearing witness to tragedy, and how the consumption of said tragedy can make the difference in how we interact with it. I think it's especially compelling that Western themes were incorporated into the story, as an extremely American-centric storytelling that often exploits BIPOC lives and storytelling for its perpetration. But in Nope, the siblings win the day and protect their home.

‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[withahappyrefrain]

FRAT TASM!PETER WITH

“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”

THIS IS SOMETHING THAT COCKY ASSHOLE WOULD SAYYY OH MY GOD

This is how blonde frat Peter returns bless you

Warning: language, frat Peter being a cocky little shit, female reader, I think that's it!

"Hey, you made it after all."

You audbily breathe in through your nose, trying to ignore the fumes of vodka and who knows what else was in this God forsaken jungle juice.

Anything to give you the strength to face Peter Parker.

You turn around to find him leaning against the door, a joint tucked behind his ear, hands in the pocket of his black hoodie, bleached blonde hair somehow perfectly messy.

"Don't get ahead of yourself Parker. I'm only here to support my roommate," you scoff, turning your attention back to the game of beer pong. Not that you were truly interested.

But you couldn't let him know that.

You regret being late to the first day of your Science Diplomacy & World Health class. Had you known it would have left you no choice but to sit next to Peter Parker, you wouldn't have hit the snooze button for your alarm five times.

It wasn't even like you had asked to borrow a pencil from him. He seemed drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.

"Y'know, I feel like I would have remembered a face like yours. You a transfer?" He asked, as if you two weren't in the middle of a lecture.

Thanks to your roommate being in the sorority that paired up with his frat, you had heard all about Peter Parker. The infamous parties. How he dyed his hair blonde at the beginning of sophomore. How he's the biggest flirt that Delta Lambda Phi had.

You didn't even look at him when you responded, "We've been in the same class since freshman year. But I came here to get a degree, not to party."

Ever since that day, he wouldn't leave you alone. At first it started with ridiculously over the top pick up lines.

"Are you made up of copper and tellurium? Because you're cute."

All you could do was roll your eyes at every line, mustering all the strength you had to not smile. You had eyes, the guy was cute. But you also knew his type.

So when he extended a personal invite to the latest frat party, you simply turned him down, like you had for countless of other parties.

Of course, as luck would have it, it was exactly the party your roommate wanted to go to.

You hoped to avoid him, hoped that your roommate would find whoever she was looking for so you could leave.

But it was as if Peter Parker had a sixth sense for you specifically. His inability to find you in libraries, dinning halls, and the university's coffee shop (bc fuck Starbucks) had now extended to frat parties.

"You know Parker, stalking is a serious crime," you scoff, refusing to look at him. The ever present scent of cinnamon alerted you that he was now standing next to you.

"It's not my fault you have a beautiful face that I could pick out from a crowd," He mumbles, a stark contrast to the usual cocky bravada you're used to.

"Excuse me?" Without thinking, you turn to face him, making contact with those big brown eyes.

The corner of his pink lips jerk upwards as he leans in, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. His touch is gentle, something you weren't expecting at all.

"You heard me." The cocky smile had returned, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Hey, don't gimme that. I know you love how cheesy I am."

Unfortunately, it was true. He was never crude and it somehow sounded genuine, despite being accompanied by a worn snapback.

"It's not crass, unlike your fellow brotherin. I'll give you that Parker." You would have taken a step back if you could, but you were now up against the wall. But he still had space to close in on you, not that he did. He always kept enough distance that you could walk away.

Come to think of it, you hadn't seen or heard him flirt with anyone since the first day of classes.

"Y'know, I got an offer from Delta Chi. It could be way worse." His comment earned a laugh from you, a feat Peter was quite proud of.

"You're right, I guess I should give you that."

"I think you can give me a lot more," He leaned in, closing some of the distance between you two but not all the way, "If you want."

The ball was in your court. His lips looked so soft, no doubt from the vanilla chapstick he used. God, why did you know that about him? And why did he always smell like cinnamon instead of Axe body spray? That's what he should be using, it would certainly make it easier for you to discourage your own feelings about the guy.

Tired of denying, tired of putting up a wall, and not kissing anyone in the last four months caused you to grab at his hoodie, your lips crashing onto his.

You vaguely register the sound of the dropped plastic cup, as your fingers thread through his hair to find it soft, despite all the hair dye and bleach.

Peter's hands feel large as they skim your sides, landing at your hips. When his tongue slid across your bottom lip, you could feel your knees begin to go weak. As if he could sense it, he pushed your back firmly against the wall, one of his large hands going down to your thigh to help steady you.

Fuck, his lips were soft. There was muscle underneath that hoodie, you could feel it.

His lips trailed down to your jaw before settling on your ear.

"I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard. Wanna hear about it?"

Desire burned at the pit of your stomach, your fingers gripping the strands of his hair.

"Where the fuck is your bedroom Parker?"

[anomaly-hivemind]

We’ll meet again || Double penetration in one hole and public w/ Bill cipher x fem reader

Word Count: 1993

Masterlist

Tag: Double penetration in one hole, vaginal sex, Exhibitionism, public, Overstimulation, dubcon

Note: The reader is slightly black-coded. Nickname is Dimples or honey lips

You got a full time job at this mystery shack in the middle of the forest. You had been working there for maybe a total of three months with little to no issues, until it became the start of the summer. Then came two young kids and all the oddities that seem to have started when they got there. Staying with their Grunkle which was also your boss, you got to know everyone well.

“Hey Y/N do you mind watching over the shack for me for a few hours, I’m taking Mable and Dipper out for a bit” Stan said while already basically out the door so you just nod. It was a long slow hour of nothingness, maybe an old lady or two but nothing interesting to make you pay attention to anything.

“So one save me from this boredom,” You groan and rub your forehead. You could only play with pens and paper clips for so long. You heard a ring and turned to face the door, but there wasn’t anyone around as far as you could tell.

“I’ve only seen you around recently how fun” A voice behind you makes you turn to it with wide eyes and you lean against the register. A guy who didn't really seem all there was standing behind the counter with you. ‘Where did this bum come from, how the fuck did he get behind you in th first place.’ You thought with a panic as you looked at the unnatural yellow glow in his eyes and felt like he was peering into your soul nonconsensually might you add.

“Sir you can’t be behind the counter” You try to keep a kind voice in hope to not upset the potential crackhead that had wandered into the mystery slack.

“BuUt I came to answer your pleas of boredom dimples. definitely not to find something of importance. ” He spoke dramatically before mumbling something under his breath.

“My what now.. Sir please just set back into being in front of the counter.” Instead of doing what you asked, he took a step closer and unfortunately for you that ass of yours was not moving any closer to the register than you already were.

He moved his arms on both sides of you and smiled an uncanny smile that made you shiver. Next thing you know you are moving onto the counter to escape his attempt to trap you. Like hell were you gonna get murdered by some random probably drunk stranger for drug money. You liked it here but not enough to get yourself killed and mutilated for it.

“That tremble of yours is pretty cute Honey lips, filling my head with all kinds of things.” you make a run to the door but before you could open it the yellow eyed guy stood in front of the door blocking the fastest exit out.

The room felt cold and shaped all of sudden and you felt like you were a deer in headlights. You couldn't move anything but move your head which is what tipped you off that this was no normal paralysis.

“What the hell did you do to me!” You yelled at him in a concerned voice. The guy uses your stuck body to lean against your shoulder.

“You have a pleasing meatsuit Dimples.” he whispered in your ear.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?!” your voice got shaky as you tried to keep the confidence you definitely didn’t have right now.

“Name’s Bill! But you can call me your new lord and master for all of eternity!” The guy’s body drops to the ground in front of you and out comes a bright yellow triangle with one eye and a top hat pops up in his place floating around. “Oh so i’m tripping balls right now, inhaling the wrong type of air that's what going on right now.”

“I am very real despite what that simple brain of yours thinks.” he rolls his eye at you as he flies around you in a close circle.

“You are nuts.” you shake your head, who would have thought that your mundane need to cure your boredom would lead to… well whatever this was right now.

“Well it's not my fault your corrupt mind brought my attention, so what was it you wanted Dimples.” you don't answer so he speaks again.

“Entertainment was it, well honey lips consider me willing to entertain…But in exchange you gotta entertain me.”

“How would i do that” you felt dumb even entertaining this Dorito thing.

“How ‘bout I reverse the functions of every hole on your face.” his eyes smiled or so that's what you think his face was doin at least.

“How about no.”

“No fun boo, mhm how about something we both can enjoy” He had his hand in front of his face where his chin would have had if he wasn’t, well if he wasn’t a triangle.

“Like what?”

“You'll just have to take the chance and Trust me.” There was a slight giggled that came from his lip face. his hand lit up in a blue fire and you realized you could move again.

“But why are you doing this?” you tried to ask but he only gives you a cryptic answer.

“Boredom is my worst enemy, so I'm here to save you,” he said loudly.

You were definitely going to regret this lapse in judgment you were about to have. You raised your hand and shook the demon's hand with great hesitation. ‘Was I fucking stupid, i gotta be brain dead to shake the hand of a demon who gave me vague information of his probably dangerous arrangement i agreed to already. Sign my life way I guess.’

He snapped his fingers and your clothes were gone, you let out a shrill as you covered the important bits the best you could.

“No amount of gold on earth can buy originality…but you're come close enough.” Move your arms away.

You felt very exposed, you were naked in your work space in front of this triangle being of unknown origins. You were in the middle of the room and anybody could come inside the place, hell Stan and the kids could come back at any time then next thing you know it you’re a register offender. You could only hope that what this chip shaped man demon thing had in planned for you wouldn’t last that long.

In a flash Bill grows a body and keeps his triangle head that has changed into a pyramid. He was also equally as naked as you are, Plus he looked Hot to add to it. You look him up and down but your eyes get stuck on a thing well two things actually. Two dark cocks that were long and thick at his base, erect and twitching. You were staring at them and you were drooling a bit. It was embarrassing.

“This form pique your interest?” He stroked himself slowly as if he was giving a show for you. You don’t catch yourself nodding to his question and before you know it he is up against you, dick touching you everytime he curves it in a stroke. He moved you closer to the counter, your bare ass touching the desk.

“Let's get started, Honey lips.” he rubbed the tips over your fold and let out a funny happy sounding noise.

“So wet already~ who would have thought you could be so needy and wanting.” he pushed one of his veiny cocks into you, all the way to in until kissed it on your cervix. You let out a loud squeal like moan as you arched your back. There was no way you were going to cum, not from him just sliding into you…right.

“Feel free to cum at any time, I'm super giving Dimples.” he started to move his hips, your pussy regards no shame as it makes wet squelches as he tickles your g-spot. Your hole sucking in him it's making you feel like a slut.

“Fuckin… Ah~” you feel your legs start to shake from his mean pace inside of you. Bill starts to push his other cockhead and you clench around them. You cum around them as soon as he pushes the other one all the way inside as well. Stretching you out like never before, it felt like you were touching stars.

You have no time to recover from his movement because he doesn't stop, letting out a groan and mumbling to himself about how snug your pussy felt around him. Your ears burn as he teases you for cumming so fast and mentioning how he was just getting started with you. He starts to push almost all the way out before ramming back into out then repeating. Your eyes start to water as you reach another climax right after the other.

“You are mighty easy to please Honey lips.” he groaned and pushed you over on the counter, you were now laying back on the cold desk in a daze as he held your legs up at his waist. Your walls flutter around the girth of the two dicks of his inside of you.

“I can’t take it!” you whine as you feel an orgasm number who knows you're not keeping track start to approach you.

“Limits only exist in the mind.” Bill rolled his hips at an odd angle that it was almost like his dicks were moving at different times. He gives a squeeze to your breast and you shiver.

He kept moving his hips in this devious way that was starting to make you spasm and moan. Bill moved his hand down your body and he started to play and tease your clit, the whole action makes you choke out a cry as you feel a pool of wet hit yours and his thighs. ‘Did I just?!’

“YOU DID?” He answers your thoughts with an overly happy tone that was embarrassing. He kept thrusting his hips into you and circling your clit and you impulse your legs shut. You didn't think you could cum anymore but this DEMON has proved that to not be true in the slightless.

“Can you try not to lose consciousness, it won't make me stop.” He spoke through breathy groans. Bill’s words make you clench around you again, you could see the specks of darkness forming in your vision but you try to shake them off.

He slammed his hips into you at a breathtaking pace, his was slower and harder and it literally took your breath out of your lungs with each thrust. You could feel him twitching in you, a dead give away that he was close to coming. His pace brought you back to another painful yet pleasuring orgasm, his hand went back to your clit to run a slow tight pattern on you.

His hips sputter and he comes in heavy thick ropes of cum, filling you up like a pie. Pools of his seed dripped out of you when he pulled out of you a bit too fast for comfort. You let out a quick whine.

“Your a fun time Dimples, really know how to keep up with me.” he changed back to his triangle form. You try to get up but the sudden movements make your ears ring and thighs send you any single they can. You look up at Dorito demon as he watches you struggle a bit.

“We’ll meet again, Honey lips.” his eye curls as his way of a smile, then he poofed out of nowhere.

Now you need to get some clothes before anyone sees you like this…And to wipe the cameras.

[oristian]

So how come we can tell that Elain wants azriel and is attracted to azriel but Eluciens claim they need Elain's POV to confirm she doesn't want Lucien??

Idk it's almost like thoughts and acts and verbal things she has said matter?? It's almost like... we don't need everyone and their mother's POV to tell very basic information??

Y'all acting like she is a complete black box just because we don't have her POV yet 😭😭

What if I said "oh we need Lucien's POV to tell he actual feels a bond and didn't orchestrate a fake mating bond to claim an Archeron sister after she got made?"

"But he wouldn't do that"

How am I supposed to know he wouldn't!! We don't have his POV either 🤪 he could be Koschei for all we know 🤷🏻‍♀️

And nobody better fucking bring up Feyre hating Rhys or Nesta kicking Cassian in the balls. Their words differed from their actions. They might've SAID they hated their love interests at the time, but their ACTIONS differed. Anyone who genuinely thought Feyre hated Rhys or Nesta hated Cassian is literally just lying atp because come on what do you mean you didn't pick up on that?? Nesta was willing to die for Cassian and Feyre was literally thinking Rhys was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Be so fr.

Elain's actions match her words. We don't need her POV to know that.

Good morning! This might be a long response, so hope you enjoy!

Elain Archeron is a book character. Books follow standards enacted by the stricture of narratives, and how stories are told overall—in short, the reader is being told something through a book. A story is told through settings, dialogue, characters, et cetera. While the reader may be able to create their own theories, pick up on literary devices, and generate predispositions, until the reader is fully informed by the intent of the author on page, it is speculation.

When people claim that we need Elain’s POV to understand how she is feeling towards Lucien, that is very much true. There is a plethora of reasons as to why she shifted her composure around him between ACOWAR and ACOSF. From asking if he is alright and inviting him to Velaris, to shrinking around him? Until we are in her inner monologue and seeing what she is seeing, the reader can only speculate. Is she now very horny for him, is the mating bond chafing when he’s around, did she have a vision of their future, is she wildly attracted to him, et cetera? The same way that people claim she is in love with Azriel is the same way we claim we need her POV—neither is true until Elain confirms it herself with her own thoughts, feelings, and words.

Now, I want to bring up “thoughts, actions and verbal things,” because, more often than not, it is misconstrued. The only instance where the reader might be swayed to believe that Elain feels anything for Azriel is the almost kiss in the bonus chapter. However, we only had Azriel’s POV. Compared to Wings and Embers bonus chapter with Nessian, the reader was lacking the female’s POV. With Nesta and Cassian, we read that both were feeling the pull towards each other in that chapter. In ACOSF, we were limited to just Azriel—why is that? As for the other lines of dialogue that are seemingly connected to Elriel, those are regarding Graysen. “I don’t want a male,” would also be applied to Azriel, no? “And that love would trump even a mating bond,” is about Graysen.

I have been asked before how I can confidently ship Elucien when Elain seemingly lost her “newfound boldness,” and, “shrunk in on herself,” when Lucien came during Solstice. While I do understand how some people can read that as a negative for the ship, I once again have to say that we do not know why either of those actions happened. There has been zero indication that Lucien is forcing himself on her, is bad for her, and/or is disrespecting her wishes, so why has Elain suddenly started acting like this? This is why we claim that we need her POV for all of these unanswered questions.

Essentially, Elain is a blank sheet of paper. Could she stay this newfound meek personality and live all her days in a small cottage with a garden, or will she revert back into her old personality and become the socialite that she once was? While the reader can understand some of her character, she is still more shifted towards the background and is lacking the substance that a fleshed out POV and aligned character development would offer to her. This is one of the reasons why so many people seemingly dislike her character, because she has not been able to explain her actions. This was similar to Nesta.

The example you brought up with Lucien and the bond needing clarification actually was solved very quickly in ACOMAF. When Feyre unleashed Helion’s spellcleaving magic and broke the bonds in Hybern, she would have broken any fake mating bond tied to Elain and Lucien. Feyre has also been inside of Lucien’s head while he was experiencing the tug of mating instincts. Elain has felt the tug of the bond and Lucien was able to experience her from the inside due to the bond. They both have experienced mating behavior towards each other. The reader has had a snippet of Lucien’s POV.

Feyre, Nesta and Elain are all similar in how they were reluctant to accept the bond at first—the only difference is that Elain is fully aware of the bond before she accepts it. Feyre and Nesta were stuffed into forced close proximity with both of their mates, which also differs from Elain, and her sisters also had access to their mates before they turned fae. Elain met Lucien the night she turned fae and had very little alone time with him. Feyre and Nesta both experienced firsthand the chaffing of the bond while being so close to their mates for so long, but Elain has not. Elain was in love and engaged to Graysen and was now suddenly tossed a fae male as her mate, while simultaneously losing her humanity? It is only reasonable that she would not be jumping for joy over this new revelation.

SJM is an author that uses similar patterns across her entire body of work. To say that we cannot compare how she wrote Feysand and Nessian to Elucien in the same series makes no sense to me. Now, I do believe that you have contradicted yourself in your paragraph regarding Feyre and Nesta. I agree, while they may have claimed that they wanted nothing to do with their mates, their actions showed the reader otherwise. Elain is similar with Lucien, however, she has not once said that she hated him, wanted him gone, wanted to reject the bond, et cetera. Anything she has said against wanting a fae male was because she wanted Graysen and to return to her mortal life. Her actions towards Lucien have included worriment for his safety, relief that he is alright, inviting him to Velaris, keeping all of his Solstice gifts, the half step, et cetera. Someone who planned on rejecting the bond with their mate would not have done any of the above.

If the reader does not need Elain’s POV, why would she need an entire book? If her thoughts, feelings, and actions are fully explained from another’s POV, why would she need to explain herself in her own inner monologue? She already has hobbies, friends, a lover, a home, joy, purpose, and family—what would be the point of her having a book?

I so hope I managed to answer your question. Have a good day!

[thetransfemininereview]

i'm warily excited by people responding to your project with "damn, i wish there was something like this for transmascs"? i deeply respect your decision to keep the transfeminine review focused on your passion and interest rather than artificially broad (if anyone disagrees with it i'll fight them), and i hope that the explosion of excitement over your work leads to more trans folks taking inspiration and joining you in reading/reviewing/promoting work by trans authors and artists. rising tide raising all ships and such. i know seeing your website certainly excited me, and made me want to go out and find more trans lit!

I really really appreciate hearing this ❤️ thank you

[maxlarens]

all the daniel stuff has really put a damper on my weekend and it seems like VCARB don’t even know and even if they don’t drop him it’s s horrible and cruel.

i had a pit in my stomach earlier cause i was so stressed about it i had to stop going on social media :/

he’s been doing a good job! vcarb just don’t know what they’re doing

i’ll be so sad if true cause daniel is the reason i got into f1 in the first place and last time there was a chance he was back but idk if it can happen again

(sorry for ranting in your inbox i just saw you posted about it and i’ve been so stressed lol)

no ur absolutely fine, im more than happy to discuss this kind of stuff! i may start making more posts about drivers and f1 politics and things tbh.

but yeah anyway. anyone’s personal feelings about daniel and his performance and whether or not he deserves his seat etc etc aside, it’s just appalling how redbull are handling this. they have clearly not made a concrete decision yet (ie: pen to paper. i think people know), but have been stringing daniel along on the hope that he may not get replaced. i just think its disgusting with how truly terrible vcarb has been re: his tyre strategy. this race was a mess? i don’t understand why they would pit him first like that so early on. it makes genuinely no sense to me. and it puts him in this awful position wheres he’s got to fight through the midfield every time he races.

i don’t get it. and i think its absurd to judge him off his race position when they shaft him every time.

and just yeah. throwing him to media wolves when he has been fucking loyal to redbull. sure he left. but they treat him like dirt under their shoe. for what reason??? especially when he came back on the hope of getting into the redbull seat. and fine if thats not an option okay. why has he seemed to think that he’s been safe and/or had hope up until the end of this race? where literally everyone is acting like its foregone conclusion that he’s gone and he has to grapple with that in front of everyone. without support from vcarb or rb.

i can see vcarb not knowing. i think max knows. i think h*rner knows. why doesn’t daniel know? why wasn’t he given an appropriate send off?? why haven’t they announced the swap with a race or two to go so he can be prepared for it, have people celebrate his career.

i love logan. but that sudden swap makes sense to me. he was causing damages that a team like williams can’t absorb. daniel is not crashing. i understand its the pressure of the wdc. but to me it looks like the reason daniel is not getting into points is because vcarb screw up his tyre strategy. perez is costing them money, perez is costing them points. i don’t think theres a big conspiracy to keep him in his seat, but i AM confused as to why daniel is unfairly bearing the brunt of that? thats what it feels like to me.

i will be very interested to see what they announce/how they announce it for daniel. and i will also be interested to see how they handle liam and his tyre strategy if thats what happens. because yeah whats the value in this swap is what it comes down to imo.

overall these mid season swaps are not a pattern that i particularly enjoy seeing. its not out of character for redbull of course, but it just reeks of disrespect for their drivers. especially someone like daniel who loves that team, clearly deeply loves driving and has been in the sport for a significant amount of time. a mid season swap is not unacceptable to me, but the lack of care in handling it is.

[bougiebutchbitch]

I'm not in the ofmd fandom but I am intrigued by the drama. spill the tea?

OH GOD OKAY

Where do I begin lksdlgkfds

Okay so

There’s this nasty little gremlin-man in ofmd called Izzy Hands. He’s a sour, mean, skrunkly, disabled little cunt who is a firm believer in Respect and Discipline (in a very queer subby way).

This is to say: he is. Explicitly. Queer. He does drag on the show, and has a whole coming-out scene. He is a kinky masochist. He confesses his love for another man, and basically ruins his own life & everyone else's, because he is sooooo pathetically jealous about this man (his captain!) falling for some milquetoast loser white rich guy, when Izzy, a badass leather-wearing working-class sword-swinging swashbuckler, is right there making puppy-eyes at him.

He's wrong! He's horrid! He's a bastard, pickled in piss and vinegar! He's five-foot-nothing of spite and gay self-loathing! He's very fun to watch, and very, very queer.

People still insist that he’s straight. And racist. Despite there being 0 textural evidence to support this, and the creators of the show repeatedly saying that this is absolutely not what they wrote.

Why do people hate him so much? Simple! Because he ‘got in the way’ of the main ship.

Yup. It’s basically ‘bash the girl who gets in the way of our m/m otp’ only the girl is a grizzled 50-something year old pirate.

The main ship, btw, is between Ed Teach, an awesome complex flawed hopeful beautiful character of colour; and Stede Bonnet, another awesome complex flawed character. Who is a white guy. And who happens to be a rich plantation owner from the 1700s. Based on A LITERAL SLAVE OWNER. Who is explicitly shown to be a Problematic White Guy with fucked-up racist views.

Like. He’s not a perfect guy. The show makes this very, very clear - to the point where Stede pushes Ed into sex super-fast immediately after Ed says he wants to go slow, and this makes Ed run away and freak out.

But somehow, Certain Fans still insist that Izzy is to blame because :checks notes: he makes one cheeky, friendly joke about them finally getting together that is clearly given & received in good spirits.

Yeah.

There's a lot of this cognitive dissonance going on. And it's very, very wilful.

Basically: a certain subset of people who ship Ed and Stede refuse to exercise the slightest bit of critical thought of Stede’s views and actions (which are a representation of the white landed gentry!) but insist on maliciously twisting literally everything Izzy says or does to cast him as The Ultimate Villain. Whereas anyone watching the show can tell that he starts off as an antagonist-with-a-deeply-hidden-heart-of-gold, whose entire arc is about growth and redemption.

I think 99% of this is projection. Stede and Ed are not perfect by any means, but these people are so dead-set on shipping a Cute Fluffy Romance (when that. Really isn’t what the show gave us) that they have to create a villain out of Izzy and blame all of Stede and Ed’s fucked-up choices and actions on him, in the most contrived ways. Which has the added bonus of them deciding that Izzy, a white guy, is somehow responsible for literally ALL of Ed’s genuinely awful, abusive, and interesting choices in S2, where he went on his villain arc. Even though Izzy was the main victim of this villain arc. Rather than, y’know, giving Ed the agency to make his own damn decisions and acknowledging that he is a flawed and fascinating character who Hurts People but still deserves a happy ending, like literally every other main character on ofmd. Nope. Gotta infantalise that man of colour and pretend he has no control over his own life and his morality is goverened by the white men around him!

Then, they get to portray Stede as his white saviourTM who swoops in and saves Ed from ‘his own darkness’ with the power of love. 😊 because that’s not Problematique in the slightest 😊

It’s… fucked up, to put it plainly. But honestly, as much as there is a problem with their dogged insistence that Izzy is the root of all iniquity on the show, and that Ed and Stede are pure perfect angels who never did any wrong... what was worse was the relentless harassment enacted by that side of the fandom against anyone who dared show a liking for Izzy’s character. Like, it’s not the worst fandom out there by any means, but it really did make the fandom feel hostile to anyone who didn’t ship the main ship.

SO - yeah. That's the tea! OFMD was a fun show with lots of cool flawed characters. But the fandom was a cesspit, fuelled mostly by a Certain Group Of Fans' desperation to make their ship Perfect and Morally Pure - which resulted in them throwing an interesting, well-rounded, morally grey queer disabled character under the bus, and harrassing anyone who enjoyed him.

[volklana]

Glorious

Title Comes From This Song:

Request: I decided to combine these two-

-Could I please request a modern Sihtric who is clearly suffering from PTSD because let's be honest he would. And he keeps trying to push you away because he thinks he's too much to handle

-I'd love a fluffy first date Sihtric x reader fic. With all the creative freedom to you!

Warnings: Mentions PTSD and smoking

You leaned against the brick wall, trying your friend’s phone number only for it to once again ring out, and you sighed, hugging your top against your body to try fight back at the cold a bit. 

The club was going to be closing any minute now and you had no idea where your friend had gone to, and truth be told this wasn’t the first time she had done this to you. 

You put your phone back in your purse and weighed up your options, you could hang out in this ally (a side door off the club) another little while longer in the hopes she got back to you before the club closed, or you could admit defeat that she had gone home with some guy and hail yourself a cab home alone.

You tried her one more time, and this time you really did feel like crying.

You had only come out tonight for her, even though you had been really going through it lately, she had managed, as always, to guilt trip you into going out to the club, and now here you were alone and depressingly drunk and she was nowhere to be seen.

“Are you okay?” a voice suddenly called through the depths of your despair and you turned your head to find the most beautiful man you had ever seen propped up against the wall, leaning on one leg, inhaling a cigarette and looking at you with big worried eyes.

You shook your head sadly and he pushed himself away from the wall and came towards you.

“Do you need help?” he asked kindly and you shook your head softly but accepted the cigarette he offered you anyway, dipping your head towards the flame of his lighter to light it.

“My friend has abandoned me,” you offered as an explanation after you exhaled, “She always does this shit to me and yet I never learn.” 

“Sounds like a shitty friend,” he said truthfully, but sadly and you nodded because he was right.

“You got anyone else you can call?” he asked and you smiled at him, but shook your head.

“I’ll be okay, I’ll get a cab.”

“Is that safe? On your own?” he asked, looking into your eyes with concern and it was only then in that light that you realised he had two different coloured eyes, one a bright blue and the other a honey brown.

An expression you could not quite read crossed his face and you realised you had been staring, and you snapped to your senses “I’ll be okay,” you repeated once again but he didn’t look convinced.

“Sihtric!” a stern voice called from the doorway and he snapped to attention immediately, “Break time is over get your ass inside.”

The door slammed and Sihtric stomped his cigarette out. 

“I’ve gotta go,” he rushed “But I really wish you wouldn’t get a taxi alone,” he added “I would offer to walk you home but I gotta do the close up.”

You smiled, heart genuinely warmed by his concern and maybe it was the drink, or maybe it was because no one had shown genuine care for you in a long time, but you pushed up onto your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “You are a kind man Sihtric, but I will be fine.”

You both made your way towards the door and Sihtric reached for your arm, “I didn’t catch your name,” he rushed and you giggled “It’s y/n,” before you headed back upstairs to the dancefloor and he watched you go before he made his way back into the bar. But he repeated your name in his mind over and over again so he would not forget.

“And you just let her go?” Osferth asked, wiping down tables, while Sihtric was cleaning glasses.

“Ya didn’t even ask for her number?” Finan quirked his head up from where he was counting tills and Sihtric deadpanned.

“It wasn’t like that guys, she wasn’t even interested in me.”

And even if she was, he thought she is too good for me.

“No?” Osferth smirked, catching Finan’s eye “But you were interested in her!” 

“Oh shut up I don’t know why I even told you guys,” Sihtric snapped, his cheeks tinged red with embarrassment.

“We’re not open yet, love,” Finan said, startled to have found a shy figure in front of the bar when he emerged from the cellar with a crate of beer in hand.

“I know,” you said shyly “But I was wondering if maybe Sihtric was here?”

Finan stopped in his tracks and a sad smile broke out across his face “He’s off today love, he won’t be back until tomorrow.”

You almost stood to attention and repositioned your bag on your shoulder as you rushed out “Okay, that’s no problem.”

“I could call him for you if you need him?” he offered and you shook your head profusely “No, no don’t bother him on his day off, it was honestly nothing. I’ll just be on my way.” 

“Wait. Woah, just hold on there a second,” he pleaded, coming around the bar and halting your departure “Maybe I could give him your number? Tell him you were looking for him?”

You felt suddenly embarrassed and foolish. Would he even remember who you were from the brief conversation you’d had a few nights ago. He was absolutely gorgeous; he must have girls queuing up to talk to him all the time. Damn was he even single?

But you suddenly realised Finan was still in front of you waiting for an answer and you nodded shyly “Sure,” and accepted the notepad and pen he handed you and scribbled your name and number, and you scarpered out before he you could change your mind it wasn’t until you left that a huge smile broke out across his face at the brackets beside your name (the girl from the ally)

Sihtric had barely hung up his leather jacket in the coat room when Finan burst in and scared him half to death. He chose not to make a big deal of the way he flinched so as not to embarrass him.

“Am I, or am I not your best friend?” he beamed and Sihtric looked at him dumbfounded.

“It’s a simple question, am I your best friend or not?”

“It depends on what you want.” Sihtric laughed.

“Ah but my friend it’s not a matter of what you can do for me, but rather what I can do for you,” he extended his hand and Sihtric locked in on the folded piece of paper in his hand.

“You only get this on the promise that you actually message her,” Sihtric nodded and unfolded the note, his heart beating a thousand beats a minute at your number.

He had searched the crowd for you every single night since your first encounter and he’d began to give up all hopes of finding you again.

He turned the crumpled piece of paper over and over in his hands on his break, trying to come up with what to say to you. Sihtric had never been confident with girls, he always fell easily, but could never fully open himself up to someone in case he got hurt, and he had spent his whole life being hurt.

He sent the message, a simple ‘Hey, this is Sihtric,’ and nearly vomited with anxiety.

“I’m so sorry, I’m not even sure what I was doing turning up like that yesterday,” you apologized and he couldn’t help the small smile and the way his heart fluttered “No, I’m so glad you did I was hoping I would bump into you again,” he replied honestly and you smiled in relief in your bed. 

You were surprised with how easily the conversation between you and Sihtric flowed, you were messaging non stop for days and then he called you unexpectedly on his walk home one night and you ended up talking way into the early hours of the morning. 

Days turned into a week or two, and you and Sihtrc never went a day without talking but thanks to his working evenings and weekends and your hectic job, it seemed impossible to plan a day to meet in person.

But soon calls were not enough and it turned into facetimes and you found yourself falling more and more for those eyes by the day.

Until you decided enough was enough and bit the bullet. 

“Are you working tonight?” you messaged as you were applying the finishing touches to your makeup. Your friend had once again begged you to come out, and this time you agreed, only with the hopes of seeing Sihtric again.

“I am love,” he replied sadly, “Did you want to call?”

You felt bad not replying, opting to hopefully surprise him when he saw you later. 

And his eyes nearly popped out of his head when you propped yourself up at the bar and asked for a drink.

“What are you doing here?” he beamed over the music and you swirled your straw around in your glass.

“My friend wanted to go out tonight, I think she’s got a new guy on the go.”

“And you?” he rushed, huge eyes taking in your club attire and his mouth went dry.

“I came here to meet a guy,” you teased and his heart fell into the pits of his stomach but he nodded quickly, hoping to mask his devastation. He didn’t.

“Sihtric,” you rushed, standing up and reaching for him “The guy I’ve come to meet is you!” You smiled up at him softly, realsing he had completely misunderstood you.

He looked to where your hand was in his and smiled shyly, twisting his hand to hold yours over the bar, and then brought your hand to his lips and placed a kiss there.

“Loverboy,” someone shouted and Sihtric sprang to attention “Could we get some shots over here?”

“I gotta-”

“Go- go!!” you urged laughing before making your way out onto the dancefloor. 

Sihtric kept his eyes trained on you all night, even though he was supposed to be working. He watched you beaming, smile contagious as you threw your hands up in the air, hair swishing to the beat and he was jealous. Jealous of everyone you danced with and jealous of how carefree you were, dancing as if nobody was looking. He realised with a gnawing feeling in his chest that you were free, truly free and it was a foreign concept to him. He was always on high alert, always awaiting the next danger, either real or perceived. 

He had always been like this. Clinging to the sidelines, watching from the safety of the shadows. Where he wouldn’t draw attention to himself, where he wouldn’t be perceived. 

You, on the other hand, you could let yourself be free, you let yourself live in the moment, not waiting for the next punch, the next fight or the next betrayal. He wondered briefly if his upbringing had been different, less violent, less hungry and less clinging to sheets in moldy apartments if he too could let himself go the way you did.  A deep sigh left his lips and he genuinely wondered if he could even have a place in your world, and then he felt selfish, maybe he should cut things off before he even tried to become part of your world, he would be a weight around your neck and he would never forgive himself if he was the reason you lost that sparkle in your eye. 

He jumped because Osferth was suddenly behind him and he hadn’t seen him approach, and he followed Sihtric’s  line of sight and smiled fondly when he saw you.

“I am under strict instructions to tell you that I am covering the rest of your shift and you are to go have fun.”

Sihtric whipped around and studied his young friend carefully, “But you never work the bar?”

“Tonight I do, so go and dance with your lady.” 

You watched in delight as Sihtric came out from behind the bar, and you fully expected him to make his way over to you but he walked right on past you towards the stairs and your stomach flopped a little. 

“The fuck is he doing?” Finan demanded and Osferth argued that he must be too nervous “Go after him. Please go after him,” he urged you from across the room and both of them silently cheered when you followed in his wake. 

You knew exactly where you would find him, out the side door smoking a cigarette and you were right.

“Did I make a mistake coming tonight?” you asked, voice small, “Sihtric we’ve been talking non stop. I just thought- I thought that you liked me,”

“I do,” he begged, turning to face you “I really like you. It’s me y/n,” he swallowed harshly and sighed, running his hands through his hair “I’m a lot okay? I’m carrying a lot of baggage, and I watched you tonight, look at you. You’re gorgeous.You’re a goddess and I will drag you down.” 

“So you’re bowing out before we’ve even tried?” you countered “You’d rather decide what I can handle for me instead of giving me the chance to make my own mind up?” 

He slumped against the wall, feeling like his heart was going to beat out of his chest, and you watched him in pain until you spoke again “Or are you bowing out first to try and protect yourself? It doesn’t hurt so much if you’re the one who decides it’s over first right?” 

Sihtric stopped breathing for a moment because he had never been read so clearly in all his life. You saw right through him.

“You don’t get it,” he said sadly “I can’t be carefree the way you are. I’m a lot to carry, I’m heavy and I’m- I think I’m fucked up, I’m different to everyone else.”

“Maybe I do get it,” you answered back “You’ve made up my story for me Sihtric but you don’t know the things I’ve come through to get to where I am right now, and I’m telling you this, you think you’re protecting your heart by shutting everyone out, but I promise you, you are only hurting yourself.” 

Sihtric considered you for a moment, eyes glassy before he blinked.

“You deserve someone- someone whole. Someone who hasn’t seen the things that I’ve seen, done the things that I’ve done. Don’t you get it? It’s not my heart I’m trying to protect, it’s yours. I don’t want to taint you with my darkness.” 

“Sihtric,” you cried, taking his hands in yours, delighted that he let you and didn’t pull away “I can’t even imagine what you’ve gone through to put up these walls and I’m not expecting you to just trust me, but can you trust that I am a big girl and I can handle a lot more than you think, and I would at least like to give us a try. Don’t you think we at least deserve to try?” 

Sihtric closed his eyes, head resting against the brick wall and you could feel his pulse, “I want to. I want to so fucking bad but I don’t know how to let you in,” he admitted. 

“Sihtric, look at me,” you pleaded and reluctantly he opened his eyes to meet yours “We don’t have to figure it all out tonight. All I ask is that you don’t push me away just because you’re scared?”

He nodded, eyes locked on yours “I’m sorry,” he told you gently, and you leaned up on your tiptoes to pull him into a hug.

“We haven’t even had a date yet and you’re already trying to get rid of me, that’s a new record, even for me.”

Sihtric laughed into your shoulder despite himself, and he released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding, feeling the tension leave his neck and shoulders.

“I did try to tell you I was a lot,” he countered and the two of you laughed, washing away the tension of the last few moments.

“Can I walk you home?” he offered after a few minutes in your embrace and you nodded.

“That was my plan all along,” you admitted and he smiled shyly. 

He just walked you home that night, refusing your offer to come up. Insisting that he at least take you on a proper date, after his embarrassing melt down at the club he felt he at least owed you that. You insisted on being on a call with him, his whole walk home so he wouldn’t be alone and he honestly didn’t know which gods to thank for sending you his way. 

“Will you finally tell me where we are going?” you begged, tugging on his hand and he smiled mischievously, “Can’t you just let me surprise you woman?” he teased and you fell in pace beside him happily.

He buzzed the doorbell of a studio apartment and you really had no idea where this boy was taking you, and as you stepped into the elevator he sensed you were going to ask him again, so he sighed and took your hand in his “We are almost there just be patient.”

The elevator doors opened and you stepped into what looked like an artist’s workshop/studio.

You took in the whole scene in front of you with childlike wonder before finally settling on Sihtric who was looking at you sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck, before he made his way over to a workbench and picked up a little wicker basket with a picnic and a bottle of wine inside.

“You mentioned that you loved painting but never get the time to do it anymore, I figured we could have some wine and paint a little?” His cheeks were tinged pink and he looked so embarrassed “It seemed really romantic in my head, I guess-we can do something else if you want-”

-”Sihtric,” you cut him off, tears in your eyes as you made your way over and cupped his face “This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me,” you cried and the shy smile of relief that crept over his face was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

You had mentioned painting in passing weeks ago to Sihtric when he mentioned that he was an amateur photographer, but you had no idea that he would remember something as insignificant as that.

“Come on let me see?” he begged, and you swiped him away.

“My masterpiece is not complete yet,” you shooed him and he took another sip of his wine, you continued painting until a sudden flash pulled your attention and Sihtric was sat there with his camera in hand looking guilty. 

“I’m sorry,” he laughed “But you look so cute when you are concentrating, your little tongue poking out.”

You laughed shyly and applied the finishing touches before you sat back.

“Are you ready to see my masterpiece?” you laughed and he was out of his seat like a shot.

“Is that…Is that me?” he said flabbergasted “Y/n, I’m gonna cry, this is amazing!” 

“I tried my best to capture you. I fear it doesn’t do you justice though, you are more beautiful in person.”

Sihtric had to swallow a few times to genuinely gather himself unable to process the emotions he was feeling for you in the moment.

“Can I keep it?” he said so genuinely that you were rising to come stand beside him, “Sihtric,” you sighed reaching up to place a kiss to his cheek when he suddenly turned his face to capture your lips, hands flying up to cup your face, and you leaned into the kiss, kissing him back hungrily, and it was like a dam of wanting had burst open.

He backed you into an empty workbench, lifting you onto it and you locked your legs around his waist.

When your hands found your way into his hair he moaned suddenly into your mouth and you couldn’t help but capitalize on the moment, by running your other hand down to the waistband of his jeans and tugging at his belt as he attached his lips to your neck.

“Please,” he was begging, but he wasn’t even sure what he was begging for, more friction, more hair tugging just more of whatever you were willing to give him.

It had been months since anyone had touched him this way and he was afraid he wouldn’t last. Not when you made those precious sounds beneath him, or when you raked your nails along his back. His back that was marred with scars, but if you wanted to mark him he would wear those marks proudly.

He sucked on the soft skin of your neck as he moved inside you and your breathing quickened, he knew you were near.

“Let go. Let go for me,” he urged “I’ve got you.”

And you came around him with a cry, it was all he needed to let go himself.

Grunting from somewhere deep within his chest as he came apart.

You hissed when he pulled out and he went away to fetch some paper to clean up with.

“Gods, you are glorious,” he mused, as you sat up. brushing his fingers through your hair and tucking a strand behind your ear, you smiled at him hazily and he muttered “Just glorious,” again, before he dipped in to steal another kiss from your swollen lips.

Sihtric took your hand and led you through the flashing strobe lights and loud music.

He pulled you close and moved your body in time with his. Running his hands down your sides, grabbing your ass and grinding against you.

He knew his friends were watching but he didn’t care. All he cared about was you and you wanted to dance.

If you were able to nurse him through the nights he woke up screaming in terror, or anytime a loud or sudden noise startled him, he could do this for you.

And he was having fun, he couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so hard at your goofy and carefree dance moves.

The strobe lights above you made you look like nothing short of an angel and not for the first or last time, Sihtric thought you were glorious.

And he wished he could find the words to tell you that for the first time in years he felt weightless, carefree and safe, like you had taken a chisel and chipped away at all the heavy concrete blocks that were weighing him down, instead he settled on kissing you with all his might and he didn’t need to tell you.

You knew. 

Tagging:

@canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @thenameswinter99 @foxyanon

@acdassenza @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @gemini-mama

@troyottonick @alexagirlie

a-beaverhausen nebulamorada izzydlb knight-of-flowerss

justcuriousandbored

[yanderes-galore]

I saw a concept for Vox with singer darling on your drafts list and I immediately got a little idea.

can you write a yandere scenario for Vox where he watches/participates in darling's interview regarding a new release of their album? The interviewer (or maybe Vox is interviewing darling himself?) asks darling whether they sing their love songs with someone in mind. Only for darling to giggle and say yes.

I hope i described the general plot alright ":D

Sure! I think I have some ideas for this :)

The Concept this was based off of here.

The Interview

Yandere! Vox x Singer! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Delusional behavior, Isolation, Toxic work enviornment, Mature themes, Suggestive end, Forced relationship.

You are Vox's greatest star.

Starting as a singer he found at a club with Val, Vox picked you for a partnership... a deal. He fell for your voice upon hearing of your debut. Nowadays... you're his perfect singer.

By contract, you belong to Vox. Yet to you it's only in contract... only business. In return you're paid, given proper living, and overall backed by Vox. You're a star now... making albums and showing off your voice on TV.

Naturally, as a star, interviews are often set up for you to partake in. Vox, as your manager, sets them up for you to answer questions. He even sticks around during the interviews.

To him, it's a power move to show who you sing for... or perhaps to capture the audience for him and his prized singer.

Recently your albums have been featuring more love songs. You cover various genres at the suggestion of your audience and manager... yet love songs seem to have been your biggest hit. Which meant, of course, you were made to sing more love songs with your hypnotic voice.

Vox is aware he technically owns you through a deal. However... Vox wishes he had you completely. In fact, in his possessive delusions, he's convinced you already love him.

Being your boss wasn't going to cut it for him.

Normally Vox is... bored at your interviews. The only thing he's ever interested in is your voice as you speak. Even then he feels envy towards your interviewer.

Seriously, he should just take over the job of your interviewer after this, it would be so much easier for him....

He sits quietly on the couch beside you as the interviewer continues your latest interview. He's half paying attention, an arm around the back of the couch and over your shoulders. He's all smiles but he isn't paying attention...

Until one question came up.

"You've been writing a ton of love songs lately... anyone in mind?" The interviewer asks, catching you off guard for a moment. However... Vox listened eagerly, eyes glancing at you.

It's quiet for a long time but Vox can see a blush creep on your face. You clear your throat, still seeming to recover from the question. Vox can't help but feel a bit... anxious to hear what you have to say.

Then Vox hears your giggle and he feels a spark within him at the sound.

"Love songs? Oh, well... recently I have, yes." You giggle out. Vox nearly short circuits upon hearing what you said. He looks away, trying to calm himself, but his screen heats anyways.

Recently you've been thinking of someone for your love songs? There was always the option of you loving someone else. In fact, most people would assume you loved anyone but your boss.

Not Vox though.

No, Vox felt convinced you meant him. He didn't even care about the rest of the interview after that. He just felt so... giddy.

Your voice became white noise to him. He couldn't care about anything else. Even after the interview... Vox was more infatuated than he's ever been.

This wasn't like him. In fact, internally he's cursing himself for not keeping his composure. Yet he can't remove the smug smile on his face when around you.

After that interview, Vox rarely left your side. He originally was quite invasive and controlling with you. Except nowadays... there was a seductive aura to him.

You were aware of Vox's... behavior around you. He was probably your biggest fan even as your boss. The interview only proved such a theory to you.

In fact it may have just made things worse for you.

When you record a song or do an interview, Vox makes it a goal to show claim over you. He often praises you on TV, wrapping an arm around you as he leans against you. When you're done recording, Vox begins to get flirtatious until something else pulls away his attention.

The worst part...? You weren't even thinking of him when making your love songs. The passion you poured into your work was not because of him.

No, in fact, Vox's behavior stressed you out. He has stressed you out ever since he pressured you into a deal at the club. Your heart didn't belong to him... It belonged to another sinner you met and were involved with before Vox came along.

You would be a fool to decline the deal, however. An invitation to become a star by a Vee? It's a fantastic opportunity...

Even if it's just meant for Vox to continue living his delusional fantasies... the Overlord having fallen for you way before your deal.

The fact Vox made you a star is often what made you tolerate his behavior. You laughed off the flirting, you played along on TV... you did everything to keep your fame. You even give Vox every album you make for his growth... collection.

You hoped that was the only change the interview caused. You could deal with Vox being a bit more flirty. You can work if he keeps his delusions...

Until he confronted you.

"You sing about me, don't you?" Vox asks one night, sitting at a table in front of you. It was the day after a night of singing at the club. To help you relax, Vox bought you a drink or two to chat with you.

"I...." You struggle to say, feeling nervous under his glowing screen. What do you say? Will he know you're lying?

"No need to be shy, dear..." Vox chuckles, appearing unusually cheery. "I know the truth... you love me, don't you? Fallen for my charm? Isn't that what makes your music devilish?"

You feel small under his smug smirk. As usual... The TV was full of himself. However, you'd be idiotic to shatter his delusions... unless you're prepared for what happens after.

"Oh, of course....!" You force yourself to say with a smile, hoping to play off your feelings as genuine. "You're a great inspiration to me...."

"That so?" Vox hums, leaning on his hand. His gaze looks you over, still smug yet... hungry.

You nod quietly, leaning back in your chair to calm your nerves. The tension is suffocating for you. You can barely hear the beat of your heart over the bass of the club's music.

"Oh that's... Perfect!" Vox purrs, standing from his seat. You tense, watching him walk around to you before pulling you up from your seat. You squeak, which makes Vox hum in pleasure.

"Then if you feel the same... I think it's about time I showed you how much I adore you..." Vox chuckles, voice coated in desire. As though he's been waiting a long time for this. "I've been waiting for this for a long time...."

You look a bit fearful, but nod softly. Vox doesn't seem to notice, too full of himself to care. He merely cups your cheek... forcing you to look at him.

"You're mine, know that?" Vox whispers, red eyes scanning over you eagerly. "I hate how others look at you... but now... Now I won't have to worry about that, will I?"

You suffocate a yelp in your throat as Vox pulls you against his side, walking you out the club. His grip is tight. Another restraint to show you who you truly belong to... ever since that deal.

"Now let's get you home... I have a bonus to give you... now that you're fully mine." Vox teases, his words alluring. You only felt dread at the idea.

Vox wouldn't accept the idea of you loving someone else, of singing about someone else... you knew that... to him there was only one who belonged with you...

Him. Vox. Your boss, lover, and the owner of your soul.