#master plan: confirmation post

[oraclesthroughthedark]

Tag Post

"It may have taken 3 weeks, but all systems are running, and the data recording system is fully integrated into the new base."

"Here are the classifications to be used. If any of them are of particular note to you, positively or negatively, please file it away appropriately."

[fairsweetlonging]

truth serum / system reveal au where shen qingqiu gets hit with an uncloaking spell that reveals the system in the reflection of his eyes every time it pops up.

during one of his missions, in the treasure hoard of some dragon-like creature, he finds a golden, oval shaped hand mirror, its gaudy style more victorian based than anything (airplane you hack!), that doesn't seem to do anything when he looks into it. but when he does, it reveals the system's screen in his eyes.

he doesn't notice this, of course, because he can't see it, and the system, surprisingly, stays quiet.

the peak lords think he's cursed.

maybe mu qingfang is the first to notice, during the mandatory post mission check-up, when shen qingqiu is scrolling through his most recently accumulated points and mu qingfang can see the strange vividly-blue lines reflected in his pupils. it's gone when shen qingqiu blinks, like it was nothing but a trick of the light.

it comes out when yue qingyuan is visiting and, just as he's done laying out the plans for a new mission, shen qingqiu's eyes glaze over and a bright blue box takes over the whole of his iris. shen qingqiu goes quiet; the thing in his eyes moves, shifts, pulses for a second, like static worms crawling all over his pupils. then he blinks, and it's gone, and shen qingqiu accepts the mission that yue qingyuan was almost sure he would decline.

maybe there is an intervention, when the peak lords corner shen qingqiu at qian cao peak and try to figure out what's wrong, subjecting him to all kinds of treatments and curse-finding spells that turn up empty, they can't find anything.

of course, the silencing threat is still very much up and running. at first shen qingqiu was kind of confused by the whole ordeal, but when the peak lords start describing a "strange blue box", he realizes, with sickening suddenty, that they're describing the system. and he can't say anything.

this only makes everything worse, because their fellow peak lord now keeps evading every question and acts like he doesn't understand. liu qingge points right at his face and asks, "that blue box, what is it?" and shen qingqiu laughs nervously and starts talking about how bright the weather is and surely it's the sky and nothing to worry about!

even worse, during the intervention the system thought it was a good idea to start talking to him, so now even the peak lords who hadn't seen it and who might have been persuaded by light tricks and reflections, get a first row view that no, that definitely isn't a trick of the light.

they try to do the whole thing of "are you in danger, blink twice" but shen qingqiu can't even do that because it's still a direct admittance!

maybe eventually he starts saying vague confirmations that don't actually confirm anything, like "this master hears what you're saying", or maybe he goes with a classic "this master can neither confirm nor deny that." but the system starts warning him for that too and eventually he stops saying anything, which worries the others more.

luckily mu qingfang catches on that every time they ask a direct question about the box or shen qingqiu says anything vaguely confirming, it appears. it doesn't appear when they ask about curses or demons, so it must not see that as a threat.

for a little extra angst: maybe the peak lords keep pressuring him for answers, and at some point shen qingqiu gets fed up and snaps out something like, "why don't you understand that i'm not allowed to answer that!" the system counts this as a direct admittance, threatening it's existence. so it punishes. shen qingqiu has a qi deviation so bad it lasts two weeks and takes two people every day to cleanse his meridians. the system doesn't appear in that time. it doesn't appear for a long while after that, either. the peak lords stop asking, mainly because shen qingqiu will instantly leave the room if they do. they don't stop searching for a cure, though.

shang qinghua returns from a business trip and catches on the second someone mentions a blue box and forced silencing.

[httpsserene]

Jealous sex with Charles 🤩

you got me touching — 𝐜𝐥. 𝟏𝟔 charles leclerc x fem!bipoc!reader 2.8k words. requested! porn with little plot. monte carlo masters. mentioned stefanos tsitsipas. mildly possesive!charles leclerc. jealousy. explicit sexual content. jealous sex. vaginal sex. unprotected sex (practice safe sex irl). fingering. missionary & cowgirl. cumplay (i’m so sorry).

synopsis: there’s no reason for charles to be jealous of men who are stupid enough to think they have a chance with you.

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. surprised i finished this when i said i would. to make a long story short, i’m breaking up with my boyfriend 🤪✌🏽ANYWAYS, i listened to the beauty behind the madness and my dear melancholy albums by the weekend to lock in the smexxy vibes. idk if it worked, it took me two days to write less than 3k words 🙂 y’all lmk if you think the wait was worth it, and enjoy reading lovelies x

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The car ride home was quiet. You figured it was post-tennis exhaustion keeping your boyfriend quiet; the entire match was viewed with the Monte Carlo sun radiating down on the stands. Secondarily, the silence could’ve been induced by a little social exhaustion even though Charles thrives in crowds—the two of you spent a couple of hours before the match chatting to anyone who approached him, which felt like every person at the event had to have his attention for a brief moment. Then after the match, the two of you spent another hour speaking with the Master’s Winner, Stefanos, and the Prince, before you were able to take your exit.

So, you attributed his low energy to being sun-tired and talked-out. In retrospect, you should’ve known that it was more than fatigue from how Charles failed to put his hand on your thigh as he drove, and how he sat through slow-crawling traffic without ever moving to turn on music or talk. Your weariness prevented you from prodding further when the Monegasque responded with a nearly inaudible hum when asked if he was tired—the lack of presence in his answer felt like confirmation.

Yet, you realize it wasn’t an answer at all when you entered your home.

Your comments and questions about the match and dinner plans were met with one-word answers and off-timed hums of indifference in response. It’s not until the two of you are in your bedroom getting unready that Charles speaks more than a single word.

“Stefanos was nice, wasn’t he?” 

You pause in your action of taking off an earring, a puzzled tilt to your brow at the odd tone his words took, eyes examining him in the reflection of your vanity’s mirror. He stares down at his forearm as he unclasps his watch, his expression unreadable from his side profile. 

“Yes…he was,” you answer slowly, your confusion growing as you see Charles’ jaw clench, “I didn’t imagine him to be so, normal, I guess? After winning the Monte Carlo Masters, of all things. And, he’s done it three times! I mean, that’s incredible, no? For him to be so friendly and relaxed after was nice, I think.”

You rambled endlessly, the feeling that you’ve talked yourself into a corner flaring at the base of your skull. Charles turned to face you fully, shrugging his suit jacket off and calmly placing it on top of the dresser, rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt before he leaned to rest against the furniture as well.

“Ah,” the hair on the nape of your neck rises at the sound, you continue to remove your necklaces with hesitant fingers, “Did he charm you into being your favorite tennis player today, mon amour?”

A humorous scoff escapes your lips, “You know I’m not a fan of tennis. But, if there happens to be a match playing within my view, and he’s playing, I suppose I would want him to win. I wouldn’t say I was ‘charmed,’ I just think he’s a nice man.”

“I think you were too nice to him.”

You slowly place your diamond-studded, golden tennis chain away before your eyes flicker back to meet Charles’ in the reflection of the mirror. You raise a brow, unsure how to respond to his statement. Intelligently, you’ve deduced that he’s jealous, which is odd—considering he’s Charles Leclerc, the prettiest, sweetest, and kindest man on the face of the Earth, in your humble opinion. Stefanos doesn’t hold a candle compared to your boyfriend. Your fingers struggle to undo the clasp of your final necklace; the gold, diamond-paved, Cartier necklace with Charles’ name carved on the back—it was expensive enough that he refused to tell you the price when he gifted it, only saying that “the cost was nothing compared to the love he has for you,” the smooth-talker.

“Arrête,” he speaks firmly, pushing off the dresser and making his way towards you, his dress shoes clicking on the floor sending your heartbeat racing. He stops mere centimeters behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back.

“Leave it on,” he murmurs, darkened eyes running over your form in the mirror indulgently. 

You do as he says, arms shakily lowering to rest at your sides, fingers tugging at the hem of your sundress as your heart skips and body flushes with heat. The Monegasque reaches around you to center the necklace on your clavicle, the sensation of his fingertips barely ghosting across your brown skin has your mouth parting with an inaudible gasp.

“If only he knew that you wear my name locked around your neck,” the brunette pondered aloud, “Maybe then he would remember that your pretty eyes, sweet giggles, and flirty words are for me—since you seemed to forget.”

“I was not f-flirting with him!” You stutter over the word as if it were an insult.

“You were not,” Charles sounds like he agrees, “But, you know very well that people mistake your kindness as more than that. It’s happened before, no?”

It has happened before. More than you can count. The number of men who mistake politeness and your overall niceness for interest is frightening; you don’t want anybody but Charles.

“What was I supposed to say to Stefanos? Nothing? Should I have just ignored him? And stood at your side quietly like I was just there for decoration?” Your tone peaks with annoyance, heated at the idea of being reduced to an accessory.

“No,” his voice cuts through your train of thought, “You should’ve agreed with me when I mentioned we needed to leave after he said ‘the only thing he’s missing to celebrate is a beautiful woman’ as he stared directly at you—instead of forcing me to stay for another twenty minutes to talk.”

Your mouth drops open disbelievingly, a scoff following a few moments later when you slowly realize that Stefanos wasn’t interested in being set up with one of your friends as he asked. You should’ve known when he asked if you had a twin sister he could meet.

“Okay, in hindsight, I can see that he was flirting,” you clarify, “But, I definitely was not. You know in that entire conversation, I was just being polite—and I made you stay for longer because the Prince wanted to talk to you. Not because I was entertaining a man who doesn’t respect my relationship with you!”

“You were being polite when he kissed your hand?”

“Yes! I thought that was just him laying it on thick?”

“He’s not royalty,” Charles snorts, “The only person allowed to put their lips on you is me.”

“You keep talking about who’s ‘allowed’ to do anything to me and you’ll very quickly find out that I’m ‘allowed’ to reconsider this relationship if you continue speaking about me as if you own me.”

“I don’t own you,” Charles pauses, and a smile spreads across his lips, dimples deepening in his cheeks, nearly forcing you to forget your previous statement as you admire them in the vanity mirror, “But—you own me.”

You turn around quickly at the words, breath stuttering at the lack of space between you two. Tilting your head upwards, you examine your boyfriend’s face with narrowed eyes and cheeks burning so hot the red flush is apparent. His smile has softened to a smirk, his eyebrows laced with a smug undertone, his pupils blown wide enough for you to have to focus to see the green ring around them. You languidly raise a hand to trace a finger across the edge of his jawline, then cupping your hand along the side of his face, gently resting your thumb in the indent of his dimple. Your chest tightens when Charles leans into your palm, slowly shifting to press a kiss on your wrist before nudging you back to holding his face.

Sighing gently, you shake your head, “What do you want from me?”

“Je veux que tu me laisses baiser ma jalousie sur toi, s'il te plaît.”

“S-say it slower please,” you request meekly, “I think I heard you wrong.”

“I want you to let me fuck my jealousy out,” Charles emphasizes each word slowly, his tone becoming teasing as he sees you fluster with each added syllable, “Ple–”

Your lips meet his desperately, your other hand flying upwards to grasp at his shoulder when you feel his laughter through the kiss. You’re sure his amusement is multiplied as you try to dominate the kiss, even as you rise on the tips of your toes and arch your body towards his. Needily, you whine into his mouth as he refuses to meet your rushed rhythm, digging your nails into the meat of his broad shoulders to convey your urgency.

The Monegasques’ hold on your waist turns rough and you pull backward with a gasp when he pinches the skin of your arm. You glower at him in displeasure but it’s quick to fade as he guides you back to his lips with a heavy hand on the nape of your neck. His thumb and pointer finger are weighted from their position at the base of your skull, directing the tilt and movement of your head as he licks into your mouth and bruises your swollen lips further with pressure and stings of teeth.

He walks himself backward, one hand firm on your hip to guide you with him, the other rucking up the skirt of your sundress and sliding underneath to tug your panties down your legs with ease. You kick the fabric off your ankles distractedly, falling to straddle Charles’ lap as soon as he sits on the edge of the bed. His hand slips between the cradle of your thighs, cupping along your warmth and toying within your folds.

“Wet for me already,” he discovers delightedly, breaking the kiss to suck a mark into the sensitive skin behind your left ear and peppering more nips and teases of teeth down the stretch of your neck. Hisses of pleasure slip from your parted lips and you slant your hips forward to guide Charles’ fingers inside. You exhale breathily at the slide of a single finger in your cunt, rolling down onto his hand when you deem his pace too slow.

“Another, please,” you beg, moaning throatily when your boyfriend fulfills your plea without hesitation.

Two fingers turn into three, and three fingers turn into Charles flipping you over and pushing you into the bed so he can hover over you. With rushed hands, you both shove the zipper of his slacks and the hem of his briefs low for him to slip his cock out and press into you. The brunette shudders as he sinks within your depths, falling to his elbows, your moans and gasps of breath spilling into the same pocket of air when his hips rest against the back of your thighs. 

“M-move, please, Cha,” you cry, knees pressing into his sides and body rolling upwards to get a glimpse of friction during his stillness.

Charles drops his head to quiet you with a chaste kiss before matching the rhythm of your rocking hips, his rumbling groans quieted by your lips. He holds himself steady on one arm while he uses the other to reach above your head and drag a pillow downwards, tapping your ass briefly to wordlessly command you into rising upwards as he slips the cushion underneath you. As soon as the pillow is properly positioned, Charles’ slow grinds are exchanged for slamming thrusts, sharp flares of pain-dipped pleasure shooting up your spine and tightening the knot in your navel. Your breath is lost quickly and you struggle to recover, eyes screwing shut and exhales of expletives and whimpers of encouragement are all you can offer.

The Monegasque roughly slides his hand down your leg and grasps you by the ankle digging into the small of his back to keep him close, moving it to rest over his shoulder, and letting his hand fall to squeeze at your thigh for purchase as the change of position tightens the fluttering channel of your cunt around him. This angle feels like he’s digging deeper inside you; one of your hands scrambling to drag your nails down his toned back while the other fists in his hair as you shriek high-pitched into the heated air between your bodies.

“All mine,” you can feel the possessive lilt to his tone rumble through the thin skin of your throat as he sucks along the rapid beat of your pulse. Your nails decorate his back with red scores and it has Charles biting out sharp putain’s and rabbiting his cock into you forcefully, yet remaining conscious enough to realign his thrusts as he bullies his way inside of you to pound against your g-spot. His leaned forward position stretches the limits of your comfortable flexibility, but it allows his pelvis to barely scrape against your clit, sending a wave of overstimulating pleasure to your brain, your eyes rolling as the sensation knocks any form of rational thought from your brain.

He pauses to tug the front of your dress down, the hem tucked under the spill of your breasts. His fingers flick teasingly over a pebbled nipple while he folds himself lower to drag his tongue against the other and nip small marks around your areola. You fight against the assault on your chest; arching your back towards and away from him—chasing and running away from the pleasure simultaneously, yet you continue to grind onto his cock.

“Charles, f-fuck, lemme–uhuh—lemme ride ‘ou,” you whine out incoherently, pushing at his shoulder with a closed fist, hoping he’ll understand your slurred words as your tongue begins to feel heavy.

Your boyfriend pulls away from your breasts in question, panting roughly as he stares up at you to see a pure look of want in your dampened eyes,  lashes clumped together and brown skin flushing deeper when the eye contact is held unendingly. You know that Charles debated denying your request, or at least thought about making you beg for it, but he decides to kneel and drag you upwards into his lap without a fight. He allows you a brief respite to adjust your legs and anchor your arms over his shoulders, then tightens the hold of his hands on your waist, fingertips sure to leave indents as he assists your first upward motion, before solidly dragging you back down. 

The strength you regained in your legs from the short break disappears, knees weakening and body slumping into Charles’ chest, your head drooping to rest in the crook of his neck. 

Charles steadies your head and tilts you back gently, checking in, “Is this too much, mon amour? We can stop.”

“No,” you murmur, “You fucked the feeling out of my legs, Cha.”

He laughs warmly, situating his hands on your ass to direct your motions, the tone of his voice light as he coos, “‘s okay, mon coeur—I’ll do all the work.”

You brush your nose along his, moaning softly at the sweetened drag of his cock. Charles chases your bitten lips, groaning lowly as he deepens his thrusts, fingers dipping to circle your clit—always ensuring your release is prioritized. Your thighs begin to shake and his thrusts skip beats as he begins to near the precipice as well. Shuddering, you gasp into his mouth, attempting to alert him to your nearing orgasm but you’re unable to speak the words.

“It’s okay, mon amour,” your boyfriend soothes, “Cum for me—I’ve got you.”

“yesyesyes,” you babble mindlessly, Charles continuing to pound into you, not slowing the search for his release now that you’re orgasm is imminent. A few well-angled jabs of your g-spot and you’re gone; release frying your nerve endings and vision blurring as your boyfriend continues to ride your high to its very end. 

The Monegasque pulls out the moment your hips fight his hold, dropping his hand drenched with your pleasure from your clit to grab his cock, and with one stroke, he spills. Charles paints your navel and inner thighs white with whimpering moans, and lilted French. He milks himself into over-sensitivity, only stopping when the orgasmic relief shifts into pain. He kisses you on the cheek as he drags a finger through his cum pooled between your thighs. His hand rises to your mouth and he hums approvingly as your lips part and suckle his spend clean off.  

“Hm,” Charles sounds, staring down at the claim he’s spilled, his free hand rubbing his cum along your navel, “All mine.”

© httpsserene - do not reupload. photo in header is from pinterest. divider from @cafekitsune.

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam and Danny, Part 41

Damian: Alfred why didn't you ever marry?

Alfred: ...Straight forward as ever Master Damian.

Dick: No he has a good point, why did you never marry?

Jason: We've seen pictures of your younger self, you could have had anyone you wantted.

Alfred: In all honestly I never married because I never found anyone to marry.

Steph: How?

Alfred: I've never found anyone endearing, to me everyone is just meh.

Cass: So you're aroace?

Alfred: I do belief that's the term you kids would use now adays to refer to those like me, yes.

Tim: Does that mean your a- Tim cut himself off.

Alfred (deadpan): No Timothy Drake-Wayne, I am not a virgin, I have partaken in intercourse with women and men. Mostly experimenting but nothing ever came of it.

Duke: Could you have a kid running around?

Alfred: Doubt it, I always took the proper precisions.

Danny: He doesn't.

Dick: How you know?

Danny: The soul can tell you a lot about a person, including how many biological children a person has, Alfred has zero.

Alfred: Well I already doubted I had children but it's reassuring to get confirmation. Though I did think about adoption once. Thomas and Martha were supportive of the idea, said I could continue to stay at the Manor and raise the kid here. But that plan went out the window after they died... I took over as Bruce's guardian and well thought him as my own.

Bruce (walking into the room, his arm in a arm sling, a bandages around his head): I am yours.

Alfred: Bruce Wayne why are you out of bed? Didn't I tell you to rest after your fall last night?

Bruce (sheepishly): But-

Alfred: Don't make me call Clark, Diana, and Selina. You know they'll be here in a split second to take care of you.

Bruce (terrified): Please don't...

Everyone looked at Alfred.

Alfred: Fine, Bruce is my son.

Bruce (slightly red): The first time I called you dad was so embarrassing.

Cass: What happened?

Alfred: This happened when Bruce was 16. Bruce was sick, and was burning up a fever, and in his delirium he called me dad, before falling asleep. I was shocked and just adjusted his blanket before going to my room, not sure how to feel about it. I slept and had a dream where I felt like Thomas and Martha would be ok, no happy, that Bruce would have me as his dad. The next morning when I checked in on Bruce he was being quiet, avoiding looking at me directly, so I knew he remembered what he said and told him that I was ok with him calling me dad.

Bruce: I was so happy.

Jason: Danny?

Danny: Sometimes when ghosts feel strongly enough something, that can influence the dreams of people those feelings are about. So I would guess that Thomas and Martha are happy that Bruce sees Alfred like a dad.

Bruce: See dad, dad and mom are ok with me calling you dad.

Alfred: Well I'm sure that they don't love that you're out of bed while injured. So go off to bed.

Bruce (smiling): Ok, love you dad, love you kids.

Alfred: Love you too son.

The Kids: Love you dad.

Danny: Love you gramps.

(Master Post)

p.s. I am aware of Alfred's cannon daughter, Julia Pennyworth, but she is does not exist in my AU.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

book 7 chapter 11 part 1 thoughts!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 11 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 192 to part 211, covering Jack and Ruggie’s dreams. You can see my comments on Leona's dream here!

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

xbsbdkshwkw AZUL FAINTED WITH HIS EYES OPEN FROM THE FALL… This guy keeps taking the Ls early on in this update cuz he also got reminded that Idia recorded him in his own dream shouting “KRACKEN SHOT” which is very embarrassing.

Silver and Azul are able to change into their school uniforms without Idia’s incantation. Apparently Silver mastered the magic of changing clothes because he was so often oversleeping for class and had to prepare quickly for them. This shocks Sebek, who has yet to master this kind of magic. (Maybe it’s also a consequence of him being a first year?? 😂)

They briefly discuss how Silver looks like a prince when he’s riding his horse; Azul saw him in a Magicam cut of the Equestrian Club. Previously, we knew from Riddle’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes that the brown horse he rides is named Vorpal. Here we get confirmation of Silver and Sebek’s horses—Samson (a white horse, sharing the same name as Prince Phillip’s steed) and Tempest, respectively.

LMAO Idia complains about how athletes get so much attention, meanwhile nerds like him aren’t ever given that or fawned over or called princes. IDiA W3 gET IT… YOU COMPlAIN AbOUT CHADS 😭

They have landed in front of the gates of NRC and run into Jack there. He seems to be rushing to the colosseum…? Let’s follow him!!

OKAY

OKAY

OKAY

JACK HOWL YOu’RE oN MY ShiT LiST OTL YOU KNOW Ehat tHIS GUY DREAmed ABOUT???????!!!?!?!!?! It’s the year after their instaloss to Diasomnia in the interdorm tournament (don’t ask me why Malleus and Leona aren’t off at their internships at this point, dream logic I guess???). Dream!Leona has gathered all odds Savanaclaw in the colosseum to train so this year they can take Malleus and beat Diasomnia head-on, no tricks. HE EVEN GiVES A N OPTIMISTIC SpEECH AbOUT THE POWEr oF TEAMWORK TO RALLY EVERYONE… and declares he’ll be the next “king” 💀 Such overwhelming confidence… JSCK DRWAMED Of a DORM LEADER thAt PLAys BY THE RULES AnD IS 💯 ConFidENT IN THEMEKvES…

Grim is so grossed out seeing this version of Leona that he wants to wake Jack up right the fuck now 😭

AzUL YOU ASSHoLE???? He acts all fake surprised about “the incident” that happened at the intetdorm tournament and like bro had no part in instigating that stampede.

They start to formulate a plan to wake Jack up, but are worried about dream!Leona since Leona irl is a very strong mage, the darkness posing as Leona could be even stronger than usual. But at the same time we can’t risk casting a spell that’s too strong ourselves or it might call Malleus’s attention. They suggest to use Azul as a clincher since he would theoretically have access to all the magic he stole irl in the dream. Surely one of those could help?

Jack scores against the defense, Ruggie. While the Savanaclaw students are going over his play, Yuu and friends stroll up (including Idia vis a full body projection). Grim tells Savanaclaw they’re Team Ramshackle here to play them!

Ruggie says there’s no point; their team is made up of weaklings! But then Azul gives his OWN speech about how Octavinelle and Ignihyde are always dead last in magift tournaments and this time they really trained hard because they wanna be better 🥺 and besides, isn’g magift a game of wits and not brute magic/physical strength??? This catches the attention of dream!Leona who agrees to the play. He considers fellow dorm leaders worthy opponents, and also had a bone yo pick with Sebek and Silver. (Also??? Sounds like Ignihyde got their asses beat by the Pomefiore team in this year’s interdorm tournament.)

HEKP THIS mAn HE’S SuFFERINNNNG 💀 Azul is really out of it so he calls for a time out. Idia takes this opportunity to make fun of him again for being tired now when he was the captain of Golden Trident in his own dream. At least Sebek is nice and offers Azul some water.

Sebek messes up and the frisbee goes out of bounds?? WYat THE FuVk dream!Leona goes over and helps Sebek up after he’s fallen… “Oh, so Jack has made a senpai he can truly respect.” “Oh, the REAL Leona wouldn’t do something so noble like that.” GROSS GROSS GROSS GET IT OUTTA HERE 🤢

Oooh, interesting?? Ortho reasons that when you’re excited, you’re more likely to be influenced by emotions when making decisions; they’ll take advantage of the exercise high everyone on to break through to Jack. He and Jack end up flying out to space as they’re squaring off in magift; when Jack realizes how far he has flown up, he’s shocked. Don’t they need oxygen to breathe here?! It’s here that Ortho reveals this is all a dream to him.

Jack is so shocked by the news that he wakes—and then falls out of the sky?! Silver immediately runs to protect everyone. Idia uses the Dream Form Change to forcibly swap Ortho to his Cerberus Gear and Jack to his Dorm Uniform, which help to cushion the blow of their crash landing. Then dream!Leona comes over to check on Jack and decides to bench him.

The darkness tries to deceive Jack, but he actually punches back and refuses to be tricked. bcdbbsksks He cries a little and goes on about how he was so inspired by watching Leona play on TV he’d watch it over and over… only to be disappointed by reality. Jack goes a little overboard though, he starts attacking US too, thinking we’re fakes as well.

Jack quickly comes to see reason and stops trying to deck us. Sebek still seems salty at Savanaclaw for what they tried to pull in book 2 and again reminds Jack of those injustices, saying he won’t forgive them. To his surprise, Jack admits wrongdoing and says it’s only natural some people would still hold grudges and choose to not forgive them. Sebek is so shocked by the fact that honest people like Jack exist in Savanaclaw. Aw… baby’s having his prejudice challenged…

Mentioning this for the Jack lovers: Jack pets Grim on the head and praises him!

LMAo????? Jack grabs Silver’s arm to travel with them and is shocked by how it looks slender but actually you can tell he has trained a ton by feeling it!

They land in Sunrise City in Sunset Savanna. Everyone tells Jack about Dream Form Change, which he says is a spell that looks like it’s from an anime his kid sister watched before. Jack has a had time saying the spell because he finds it embarrassing, but he’s eventually goaded into it (especially by Sebek, who tells him to chat it with his whole damn chest).

Beastman lore!! Apparently beastmen are considered a genus and all beastmen come from Sunset Savanna; over time, they migrated to other parts of the world, especially to some colder locations northward. Jack’s family is included in this, as well as Sebek’s. His grandfather apparently used to live in the wetlands of Sunset Savanna. I guess it just goes to show that no matter how different their individual practices and beliefs… they have common roots.

While they’re admiring the statue of the lion prince in the center of Sunrise City, they notice no hyenas are among the gathered animals. They suggest that maybe the statue was made before the King of Beasts united all animals; the hyenas used to live in their own place called the Land of Shadows.

They review some Sunset Savanna lore, including how difficult it is to unite beastmen of different kinds and how there's a pushback against development due to many beastmen wanting to respect nature. Sometimes the disputes can become violent, and it's all over the news. SHOCKINGLY, Idia has a moment of clarity and realizes that this must be why Leona chose the internship he did at a mining and energy company 😭

Everyone begins to suspect the dream is Leona’s but right then Ruggie rushes by them, declaring that he’s late for school. Jack is surprised that Ruggie is in glasses because in Savanavlaw he would brag about having good eyes.

Ruggie cuts through the market to get to school on time; he seems friendly with the folks and many of them offer him free food. Jack remarks that Ruggie is seen as a hero in his hometown, so maybe this explains the NPCs’ behavior. Apparently he is also an honors student in this world.

Anyway, Ruggie arrives at Ivory Cliff! It seems this school doesn’t exist irl; it’s only in Ruggie’s dream. Most of it is beastment, and over half are hyenas.

Grim watches Ruggie and mobs A and B eating food and leaps in to get some!! (Azul apologizes and lies that Grim is his familiar, lol) Sebek chides Grim for doing this, but then his own stomach growls, giving his own hunger away. He of course denies his hunger—but Ruggie says it’s okay and invites them all to eat!! The local children come to their campus just to have food too. Ivorycliff Academy was built in honor of the three hyenas who served the King of Beasts. They used to be do starved that they could cry, so the school is dedicated to feeding the hungry in the spirit of solidarity.

BRUH 😭 YOu’RE KIDDING ME… In his dream, Ruggie’s dad never left him… He came back for his son with a fortune he made from working. Ruggie also bought a new car for his granny and never has to be hungry again. Jack wonders if it is really right to take away happiness like that, but ultimately he decides he doesn’t want to see his senpai living a false reality.

Ruggie shows them to a school donut stall with all-you-can-eat toppings. He dumps everything onto a single donut and calls it the "Ruggie Special". The owner drops the lore that in the universe of this dream, apparently LEONA built the school.

According to donut lady, Leona graduated last year and came back after graduating to strengthen his country. He has established several schools and even magift teams. Among young people in the Sunset Savanna, Leona is supposedly also more popular than the crown prince.

Ruggie runs off to class and we stay behind to eat. Donut lady turns to darkness and attacks us, so we beat it back.

Everyone thinks it will be hard to wake Ruggie since he has never met Leona in this reality and doesn’t have any memories of NRC, his club activities, etc. There isn’t much for him to emotionally react to.

WHAT THE HECK is this a Mufasa movie reference in Twst 😭 Ruggie and some mobs talk about a sequel (that’s a live action prequel, I think??) about two characters who are enemies but were actually friends in their youth. Or maybe they’re just talking about some other Lion King prequel I’m not aware of???

J kb bajabakan ahaGayatwHAT

Azul tosses coins of different values which attracts Ruggie’s attention. He has the unique ability to tell the value of a coin just from the sound of it, a skill which Azul learned about from observing Ruggie when he worked part-time at the Mostro Lounge.

Anyway, Ruggie tells mobs A and B to go home without him so he can hunt the coins in peace.

Azul carelessly tosses 500 madol (~5 USD) into the fountain. Ruggie wants it so badly he dives in and starts digging around wildly in the water for the coin. AND AZUL JUST KINDA STANDS THER E TAUNTING HIM LIKE, "OoOOoOoOoh you want that coin so badly, Ruggie, your body moved on instinct BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF, BE GREEDY, GET THAT COIN" (NOT AN ACTUAL TRANSLATION, but in the spirit of what Azul actually says).

I assume this is what the Ivorycliff Uniform Ruggie groovy depicts... Bro's tripping and having a cosmic experience all because he spotted A COUPLE DOLLARS.

Nooot sure how to feel about this as a narrative device. On one hand, it's funny and definitely demonstrates Ruggie's shamelessness. On the other hand, I can see why some may see it as distasteful or humiliating because Ruggie is already so destitute irl and yet here they are using him scrounging around for a few dollars as comedic bit.

Mobs A and B return to check on him. Ruggie starts obsessing to them about how you can buy extra or fancy food like the shrimp gratin set for 500 madol!! Which confuses the mobs because all the food at Ivorycliff is free.

On instinct, Ruggie starts reciting what I assume is true of NRC: basic buffet foods are free, but extra foods are an extra cost… uniforms are free but if you ruin the first set then you need to pay for extra ones… etc. Ruggie points out that Ivorcliff uniforms are sucky anyway, with a light color like this, even a little bit of dirt stands out! Night Raven College uniforms are black, so it’s so convenient! Wooow, what a callback to book 2 💀 Ruggie complained about the RSA uniforms being hard to clean back then too…

We beat the mobs up~

Ruggie falls ot his knees and has a good little cry 😭 but then he recovers and says he’d better be paid a good hourly wage for all this trouble cnbdjssbjsks He agrees to join us because “Well, I wake up Leona-san every day so this is literally no different than my usual routine” though he also admits his success rate is like 60-70%.

dnensjsbahsjajw RUGGUE’S On MY shIT LIST TOO. HOW daRE HE… Bro says he’s going to wake up OUR king now, that he doesn’t want to follow a false king.. ARE YOU FR 💀 JE’S TAlKING AbOUT zbsvsjabskshFd;,,,/;~~\4!’ansnjahVb,dDDGfgGJjkJSDgabakaojrr a kKNBD gbmmkojnkFSAAQWVNmkoggDFFHvjkkp OTL

PAUSE TO STARE AT RUGGIE'S CRYING FACE BECAUSE WHAT THE HELL I FEEL LIKE I'M STARING AT A KICKED PUPPY

And so…! They’re off!!

This update ends up Ruggie’s dream concluding. Next time (on the 29th), it’s time for us to wake up Leona!!

asdbkhlfbyofqeyg80eg8qegppf OKAY. I WAS NOT EXPECT THIS AMOUNT OF LEONA GLAZING IN THIS UPDATE 🤡 Like, GOOD LORD was there a lot of it... I sort of expected it in Jack's dream since he idolizes Leona, but I was not expecting it to come up in Ruggie's dream too. Even though it doesn't seem like Ruggie has met Leona in the universe of his own dream... the dream world still created lore about how Leona successfully graduated and made the decision to come back and better his country, especially for the destitute hyenas like himself 💀💀💀 WHICH JUST GOES TO SHOW THAT EVERYONE IN LEONA'S DORM RESPECTS HIM AND BELIEVES HE CAN LEAD THEM TO A BRIGHTER FUTURE IN THIS ESSAY I WILL--

ASDBKLHABIYOFAYFQEIBAF STFU ME, THIS UPDATE ISN'T ABOUT HIM.. .. . . . ....... . . . ... . .. . . . . . . LET'S TALK ABOUT JACK AND RUGGIE.

I think this update was one of the funnier ones by far. I'm on Grim's side, it was very unnerving to see a helpful, reliable Leona that plays by the rules and is a good sportsman... but at the same time, it's only to be expected of Jack. Since book 2, he's made it clear he looks up to his dorm leader and wants to be able to put his faith in him. It was nice to see everyone acknowledge how a Leona that doesn't hold back is a genuine threat and how this is the version of him that Jack wants to see realized. It's cute how Jack has this pure want to play with Leona and wants to see him as an idealized leader... Definitely puppy-coded behavior.

Something else I really appreciated about Jack's dream is the logic that went into waking him up. It was really a tag-team effort by Azul and Ortho and, unlike previous updates, I felt like the previous OB boy's presence was a Nothing addition to the cast and didn't contribute much. But Azul uses his smooth talking to convince dream!Leona to play against them, and then Ortho isolates Jack to knock some sense into him. I liked that Ortho, the robot, used cold, hard facts to reason his way to a situation where Jack was more likely to react with strong emotionality. Azul becomes useful again in Ruggie's dream, where he single-handedly wakes the guy up with some spare change he had on hand www

The exchange between Sebek and Jack was great, but I wish it had been extended... It feels like they added it to help with Sebek's character arc of overcoming prejuidice about non-fae, which is fine! But I think it should have been carried over into Ruggie's dream (in that section where they talk about different beastmen in the savanna). Like... it would tie together so well if Sebek had a moment of just "............." in indicate that he's thinking about what was just said, about how different beastmen, despite their differences, all originated in the same place. It would show us that he's slowly realizing, little by little, to accept non-fae.

I think Jack attacking us was an interesting beat to include, especially with all the theories swirling about how the Savanaclaw update will be the one to shake up the formula. Perhaps this is a preview of what's to come in Leona's section??? It proves Ortho's point that you're more likely to think and act with your emotions leading you rather than logic if you're already hyped about something. (In Jack's case, he was still coming off the caution and the high of beating back dream!Ruggie and Leona.)

I felt very similar to Jack in Ruggie's dream, doubting whether or not it was morally right to rip someone away from their happiness--especially considering all that Ruggie has gone through. Little guy was so devastated to find out the truth too... When I think about it, he's gone through so much tragedy in his life. His mom's dead, his dad left him, he grew up destitute and having to scrape by, he had to get LITERAL GARBAGE (depicted in the manga adaptation) to survive some days. It's no wonder why the people in his hometown call him their hero, it's a miracle that he lived this long and managed to get into a prestigious school. I think Ruggie's dream also highlights that he's not JUST greedy because he's greedy. Ruggie clearly cares about other people living well too (something alluded to early in book 4), because why else would Ivorycliffs casually offer free food to everyone and anyone? Why else would he spend tons of cash to buy his grandma stuff? He's thankful for what he has and wants to give back to the community that supported him. The supportive community is also generally reflected in his dream, specifically the market he passes on his way to school.

Ultimately, I do think it's for the best that Ruggie was roused awake because um... HEY, THE WORLD IS GOING TO END. Coming to that conclusion also speaks a lot about Jack's character: above all, he values honesty, even if the truth hurts. Excellent carry-over from book 2 (where he was the whistleblower), honestly.

One thing I wished they had expanded on was the relation of hyenas to other beastmen. It’s implied they are second class citizens, but it’s never clearly stated why that is other than “oh they live in a place that lions didn’t rule”. I would have liked more historical context for that discrimination; it would have helped to flesh out the world.

Overall, liked this update a lore more than the previous ones. I don’t know if I can still say this after the second part comes out (because I’ve usually had the most criticism for how the OB boys’ dreams ate handled), but so far I’m surprised by Jack and Ruggie (in a good way). Fingers crossed for the 29th! 🤞

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰CHARLES LECLERC.

xv. he was sunshine, i was midnight rain

— the one where you broke his heart 'cause he was nice.

❝𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨? 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨? 𝘖𝘩, 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥? 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥?❞ —𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐘, 𝟏𝟑.

warnings: angst, not proofread and pls go easy on me i'm coming out of the worst block everrrrrrrrrr. our girlie is making poor choices pls hate her a bit for it, the last bit is charles centered. 2.23k words (+articles!)

masterlist ✢ next

by Tom Gill

The worst time to have a carreer on Public Relations is when your client is as unhinged as y/n y/ln has proven to be. Many people, myself included, can't help but feel sorry for whoever is on her team because there's only so much someone can do to put out a fire when the person burning is the same one who keeps lighting the matches.

y/n just can't stop messing up, can she? Just when her fans thought she would rise from the ashes with an outstanding movie deal, the 'Queen of Romcoms' has to go ahead and mess things up by proving that people who aren't blinded by her master manipulations are right: y/n y/ln is in fact a cheating snake.

The Deuxmoi post talking about an actress involved with a Formula 1 driver and her presence at the Italian Grand Prix last Sunday are enough confirmation of the fact. y/n is not ashamed to be seen on broad daylight with the guy that broke off her engagement.

Don't kill the messenger, y/n fans. Aidan Kim and Victoria Presley did warn you.

New York, United States, September 10th.

It feels like you've just finished unpacking when you find yourself throwing stuff in a suitcase once again. There is little to none excitement in you as you decide between a couple of blouses and recite Amy's lines outloud inside your messy apartment.

"Wait—that's not right," you huff, unaware that you've let the blouse you like the least inside the suitcase. The lines slip your mind like butter on a pan. Honestly, you've started to wonder if several of your braincells died in the past month. Nothing other than 'I want to be great or nothing' seem to have stuck. So much for how well that single line applies to your life.

"'It looks like it's never done a day of work in its life'," you mutter, picking the script up from the dining table. You have studied it a million times, gone through lines and rehearsals and a thousand other things. You have called Greta and Timothée and Saoirse and they have called you on their own accord to agree the accurate tones of scenes and interactions, and yet you are sure you are still going to mess everything up once the camera starts rolling. "God, help me."

The clock on your phone tells you it's 9:30 a.m. and you are nowhere being done with your luggage. Also, Charles' plane lands in less than an hour and you are not making it to the airport in time. He has a busy month race-wise and he has still made some time to come to New York before you leave for Boston in a couple days and you are both turned upside down with the Asian race-tour.

There is one reason—and one reason only— that Mildred has agreed that you should have these two days off. That reason is not Charles Leclerc, given the fact that she has grown to hate him even if she can admit, albeit to herself only, that he has done nothing wrong. You are supposed to be preparing more interviews and then a prolonged stage of silence while you focus on filming Little Women. Mildred has a whole plan laid out and that is another script you have to follow. No improvisations though, you have been warned.

─────────

Time has a funny way of passing by when it comes to Charles and yourself. Your whole relationship feels contained in a moment and also in a century, and every time you see each other again, even after just a few days a whole other bubble of time seems to have passed. You think it's Charles' way of making it feel special, making you feel special by looking at you like you're a part of him he's constantly missing when you're not right next to him. A 'lovesick fool' you have heard him been nicknamed by people who try to be nice, at least a little bit. Others sneer at how they can't wait for the 'honeymoon phase' to be over.

And it's precisely the way he looks at you before he's crushing you against his chest that makes you hold your tongue for the rest of the day. You cannot bring yourself to tell him the plan the people around you have made without asking for your input—much lesser his— to salvage your career and your reputation.

It nags at you how stupid you're being. Maybe some part of your brain did die between Sunday and today, but you are certain you won't be able to bear the disappointment in Charles' eyes when he finds out what you agreed to.

This visit is less touristy than the last time Charles came to New York. He's leaving tomorrow and you, the day after for Boston, so you want to bask in each other's company as much as possible. You go to a cupcake place and take pictures, all while Charles re-tells everything people have said about his win on Sunday. He's become even more of the Golden Boy he already was in the eyes of Ferrari fans, and you feel love swell in your chest at the fact. You love that he's loved, there's nothing he deserves more than to be loved.

"Will you show me the script now?" Charles asks, taking his light jacket off as he crosses the door to your apartment. A slight feeling of embarrassment flashes through you when you focus on the different disasters around the house but Charles either doesn't notice or doesn't mind as he makes himself comfortable on the couch where several pairs of your shoes are scattered.

"I think it would violate my contract somehow if I did," you chuckle, noticing that your travel kit toothbrush and toiletries are on the coffee table. "I was sure I had those in my luggage already," you groan, pointing at them.

Charles laughs, patting the spot next to him and motioning you over excitedly. "Can I see it please?" he elongates the 'e', with a mocking puppy eye look on his face. "Read me some of your favorite lines," he's suggested so several times and you refuse him every single one. It's not like he hasn't seen you act, Charles admitted in one of your phone calls to have binged all of your movies.

"I can't," you fall into the couch next to him, wrapping one arm around his neck. "You make me nervous, it won't turn out good."

"You see me work all the time," he grumbles against your hair, "And you too, make me nervous. You're being unfair."

"Oh, booohooo," you mock, nuzzling into his neck. "Your job is far more exciting than me reciting lines."

"It is not—"

His complaint is cut short as you kiss him, once, twice, so many times you lose count and he kisses you back between snickers and fake complaints about how there's only so much his heart can take before it explodes. It's so cheesy it makes you both cringe and burst with laughter before starting the scene all over again.

A re-run of a Foodnetwork reality show is playing in the background when you open your eyes after a short-lived nap. Charles is swiping through his phone with his other arm around you, the light in the apartment has faded almost completely giving way to late evening.

"Do you want to go out for dinner?" you ask pushing off of Charles' body and sit and rub your eyes. "Or should we order something?"

He locks his phone and stretches, still laying on his back. "Whatever you want to do, soleil."

You two are way too comfortable in your little cocoon to mess it up by going outside just to eat. Charles smiles, knowing you've already made your mind up.

You argue on the couch for ten minutes about what take-out to get and after you've finally placed the order on your phone, you get up to make some space the dining table.

"Here," you throw the bunch of papers at him softly. The 'Little Women' script is anotated from page one, and it is true that you probably shouldn't be showing it to him, but it doesn't really hurt anyone either. "Not a word, do you hear me, Leclerc?"

Charles laughs before crossing his heart with his index finger, eager to read about your next big thing.

You throw more stuff on your open suitcase, wipe the table down and look through your kitchen for an unopened bottle of wine while Charles reads and occassionally shouts something from the living room. He's so genuinely excited about seeing you bring Amy to life on the silver screen.

"Gooodddd, what's taking them so long?" you whine as you return to the living room. The 'your order is in progress' notification still alive on the screen of your phone. Charles doesn't seem to mind as he makes space for you to sit with him again.

"Couch potato," you stick your tongue out at him, placing your feet on his lap after reaching for the TV remote. You surf through a few channels, trying to remember what the name was of that crime documentary you wanted to watch on Netflix.

"...y/n y/ln making headlines again with her messy love life," the E! Show that's starting has your picture and Charles' next to each other.

Charles' eyes move from the last pages of the script to the TV and then to you. "Change the channel, love," he says as he reaches for the remote himself.

"Yeah," you click on the Netflix logo on the remote and the screen goes black as your phone pings, letting you know your food has been delivered to your apartment complex's lobby.

─────────

There is something beautiful about domestic life with Charles even if it just exists for scarce moments like this. The smell of coffee and the sound of his humming lull you into a peaceful state of mind as you prepare breakfast before once again leaving for the airport.

Messages from Mildred, three or four already, remind you that you must be ready for the list of things she had also reminded you of a million times already.

'how did he take it?' you read from your phone, Mildred again.

You look at Charles and open your mouth. Maybe now that he's leaving in a couple hours you'll work up the courage to tell him about how Mildred is staging your break-up right this second. Which means nothing, right? Keeping it lowkey is for the best, even for him.

Right?

You open your mouth and close it several times looking at your disheveled boyfriend and his sweet smile.

"What?"

"There's something I have to tell you," you breathe out, screwing the already too tight cap on the empty bottle of orange juice that rests on the table.

"So tell me," Charles' smile widens as he puts both elbows on the table, ready to listen.

"I'm really going to miss you." you chuckle awkwardly, and there is momentary gesture, barely perceptible, in Charles' face that tells you he knows that's not what you really wanted to say.

"Me too soleil, but we'll figure it out," he's reaching for your hand with a weaker smile on his face this time.

AFTER months of speculation about the nature of y/n's relationship with Formula 1 Pilot Charles Leclerc, a spokesperson for the actress has made an exclusive statemen for PEOPLE.

"They have never been romantically-involved," the source said. "Their friendship is undeniable but there's nothing more than that."

y/ln and Leclerc have been linked since April and spotted in public together several times, including at the Italian Grand Prix on September 3rd.

"Since becoming friendly they've ran into each other at several events," the source continues, "They are often surrounded by friends they have in common, such as Matilde Bassi and Timothée Chalamet. y/n knows it's too soon to put herself out there romantically."

Despite a rumor surfacing on an online gossip site that they took a romantic vacation together in Greece, y/n's spokesperson tells PEOPLE that "pictures are often released without context to create controversy."

Charles Leclerc has been blind-sided. Which, to be fair, in his career field is something he should be used to. But the feeling doesn't compare to being blind-sided by the person who is supposed to be your partner.

Charles understands, he always understands, or at least tries his best to do so. But this time, it really feels like he's reached his limit. It's not even about how he's become even more of the laughing-stock within his group of friends about how he's been parading y/n around and defending her honor for her to call their relationship 'casual' rather than not even getting a heads-up from her about the matter.

"Is there something you would like to talk about now, y/n?" Charles questions, trying his best not to let the anger flow into his voice.

Charles thinks the worst part is how long she stays silent, but it's not even close to what comes next.

"I tried telling you," she lies.

"When?" there is no point in hiding his anger anymore, even if he doesn't want to fight. This is one of those unavoidable things you expect to hit somewhere down the road in the relationship, not a month into it.

"I TRIED!" she repeats, unable to come up with any argument in her defense.

"You never tried! See that's the thing about you, you just wait for things to happen and then you 'try' to deal with the mess!" His accent is thickening with every word.

"If it bothers you so much—"

"What bothers me," he cuts her off, "Is how you cannot trust me with these things? What did you think I would say?!"

"Exactly what you're saying now, Charles," she sounds defeated and it manages to irk him an extra mile. "You don't understand—"

"I don't understand how you still care more about what people are going to say than about talking to me. I'm your boyfriend!"

There is another long silence during which he can hear faint yelling in the background of her side of the line. On his side of the world it's nearly midnight.

"I've been thinking," y/n nearly gasps, "That maybe we rushed things."

"Rushed things?" his voice is so small now he wonders if it can really travel half-way through the world.

"I— Maybe Mildred is right— I wasn't, I am not ready for a relationship." She stammers, and Charles can picture her pinching her thigh in that nervous tick she can't quite manage to get rid of.

"You can't even take responsibility for your own feelings?"

It's always Aidan, Victoria, Mildred... a handy list of people to put part of the blame on for when she doesn't want to say things herself.

And Charles accepts it. He accepts her messes because he wants her, but now apparently y/n doesn't even want him back.

"What do you even mean by that?" y/n scoffs.

"Can you even be honest with me, then? Say that it is you who doesn't want this relationship, y/n, don't put it on—"

"I'M NOT PUTTING IT ON ANYONE! THIS HAS BEEN A MISTAKE SINCE WE LEFT MYKONOS I—"

Charles didn't want to fight and now there is nothing to fight for, anyway. So he hangs the phone up, because sometimes things end in silence.

It's three am, and Charles Leclerc just got his heart broken.

─── team principal radio: ❝why hello there, i don't even know if you remember this fic but it is for my own peace of mind that I have to finish it!!! also i love these characters a lot, even when they're acting so selfish and stupid—looking at you y/n. Thank you if you are still here and like me, had to reread it to get to this chapter.❞

✰ paddock club members: NO PADDOCK CLUB THIS TIME BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW IF ANYONE STILL WANTS TO BE TAGGED.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Away We Go {1}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Autumn has been introduced to the world but there’s something more special for a first appearance: Monaco GP Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, fluff WC: 3.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry || One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine NAV: Away We Go || One || Two

The white noise in the nursery threatened to put you to sleep too but there were still dozens of messages to get through. There had been a constant stream of well wishes to your inbox since the announcement to the world but one had been left on read for three days now and a little rage built each time you reread it.

It didn’t take long for new ‘exclusive’ information to pop up in the gossip pages, along with the photo you had taken and sent to Jos. It wasn’t a surprise at all, but it still hurt to read what he had said. Trusted sources close to Y/N say she is being monitored for Post Natal Depression and Psychosis, as it is no secret she has had trouble with mental health in the past.

“You are lucky, my love,” you whispered to your daughter who slept soundly in your arms. “Your fathers love you so much.”

You carefully stood up from the rocking chair beside her cot but the moment you started to lower her to the mattress she began to stir.

“Already a little arm princess, aren’t you?” you chuckled, settling back into the chair to start rocking again.

You didn’t mind getting these rare moments alone with her, even if you were exhausted from waking up to breastfeed her all through the night. As soon as Charles and Lando finished their Zoom Meetings with their teams they would be stealing her away for their own snuggles. It was safe to say everyone was smitten with her. And that wasn’t an exaggeration. The front door barely closed before another visitor came, and Max had taken up permanent residence on the couch when he wasn’t needed elsewhere.

“Is she sleeping?” P whispered loudly as she stuck her head in the door.

“She is, but you can come in.”

Max trailed in after her having let himself in the apartment with his spare key. Your mother was out grocery shopping again so she could do more baking for the visitors of the day. You had told her she didn’t need to but she was enjoying the company and feeding a small army.

“Have you eaten?” Max asked as he knelt down beside P who gently stroked the blanket Autumn was swaddled in.

“You’re as bad as my mother.”

“I’m just checking. Kel said everyone comes to see the baby but no one asks how the mum is doing. I want to make sure my sister is okay too.”

“Now you’ve done it,” you croaked as you started to cry. “I’m over these damn hormones. I was fine until you arrived.”

Max laughed and rocked side to side. “You’ll get over it. Should we go to the living room or do you like sitting in the dark?”

You accepted his hand and let him pull you to your feet since he had long ago mastered the art of carrying a baby one-handed. “You’re going to have your hands full when Vicki drops.”

“I have two arms. Unless you're planning on having another one right away?”

“Max, I love you, but I will punch you if you ask that again. I am still having to sit on ice pads because no one warned me about the goddamn haemorrhoids-”

“Okay, okay, fuck, stop!” he begged with a disgusted look on his screwed up face. 

Satisfied he wouldn’t make the same mistake again, you went to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water and a juice box for Penelope. 

“So Toto still hasn’t confirmed anyone for Lewis’ seat next year,” you said, passing him one bottle before taking a seat with P. 

“You’ve been talking to him?”

“And others,” you admitted. A few more of the Team Principals had sent their congratulations and the ones with empty seats for 2025 expressed an interest, asking what your plans were. “As soon as my six week check up gets signed off Kristian is going to become my worst nightmare again.”

“Do your boyfriends know that’s your plan?”

You shrugged. It had been spoken about before Autumn was born but they all thought having her in your arms would change your mind about returning to racing. None of the other parents on the grid gave up their careers to grow their families, and while there were still empty seats in the teams you were going to shoot your shot until every last one was taken. 

“Never let them know your next move,” you joked before sobering up and sighing. “Working mums are normal in every other business. Plus, I’m only talking about sim racing this year and if I can impress someone with the data then we can go from there.”

Max nodded along as his eyes traced over Autumn’s features, finding Charles’ dimples when her lips pursed with a soft whimper in her sleep. Penelope had finished her drink and turned all her attention to your daughter, giggling whenever Autumn sucked on her own lip.

“Can I have a baby sister?” she asked Max with bright, hopeful eyes.

“Maybe one day, P. You would make a great big sister.” She grinned at the compliment and snuggled closer until she was half on Max’s lap and holding Autumn too.

Monaco GP

“Ma fifille, tellement belle,” Charles gushed as Lando stepped out of the nursery with Autumn in his arms. She smelt sweet from the baby oil that hydrated her skin and fresh since Lando had changed her diaper before finding the prettiest dress in her closet for her first paddock entrance.

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to sneak her into McLaren gear,” you commented as you packed the baby bag with extra supplies for the day. Gone were the days of arriving at the paddock with just your phone, now there were a million things to remember since no one wanted to try to return home with the insane traffic that came with the road closures for the Monaco race.

“I hid them all,” Charles confessed with a sly smile before stealing a kiss from Lando’s pouting lips. “If she can’t wear Ferrari then she definitely isn’t wearing McLaren, mon cher.”

“One day when you are at Maranello…” Lando warned with a wink.

“You can finish this squabble later, we have a whole camera crew waiting outside.” The tone wasn’t quite as light as you hoped and it drew the attention of both of them straight to you. The joking smiles fell and Lando lay Autumn in her stroller and clipped in the buckles with a frown. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

“You only gave birth four weeks ago, love, it’s okay if you’re not ready to go to the track yet.”

“We wouldn’t be upset if you watched from here,” Charles added.

“It’s Monaco and I am fine, just a little nervous.” Your blasé shrug didn’t fool either of them.

“Of what?”

Charles took over rocking the stroller back and forth so Lando could pull you into his arms. The warmth and security of his embrace was always enough to spill whatever was on your mind.

“The crowd, the cameras, your fans - take your pick.” You looked down at your clothes. They weren’t the designer dresses the other women would wear to the paddock but the maternity jeans and breastfeeding friendly shirt were tidy enough. You couldn’t help noticing the pouch where your belly sagged like a deflated balloon.

“Hey,” Lando murmured, catching your chin with his finger and guiding your head back up to face him. “Do we need to remind you how beautiful we think you are? I don’t mind being late. Charles?”

“I am more than happy to take a penalty.”

You chuckled at the enthusiasm but shook your head. “I would love nothing more than to drag you both back to the bedroom but save it for the six week sign off, you horny devils.”

“We can still show you how sexy we find you without fucking you,” Lando whispered in your ear and Charles’ eyes darkened at the little catch in your breathing.

“Don’t tempt me, but there’s still the problem of the camera crew outside and you’d be on your own explaining to them why we were late.”

“Mon amour, that is the man who asked Stroll if he could wank after breaking his wrists. Would you really trust him with that task?”

“I mean…I would find it funny. Zak might blow a gasket though,” you admitted with a grin. Feeling a bit more at ease after a laugh, you stepped out of Lando’s arms and took a steadying breath. “I’m going to grab a hoodie and we can go.”

Neither commented as you hid your body in an oversized Quadrant hoodie despite the summer heat but you barely made it halfway down the street before you asked Charles if you could push the stroller. There were too many people and too many screams for autographs that your heart started to beat erratically and your breath burned in your lungs.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked, ignoring the people beyond the security team that surrounded your group.

“Let her push, Charles,” Lando urged as he saw a sight he was familiar with in the mirror. It was rare for him in recent years now that he had you and Charles but he could remember the feeling of being out of control and the panic that came with it.

You grabbed the handlebar of the stroller and held on with a death grip in case someone broke through the security guards and knocked into it. Your knuckles changed colour from how tight you handled it and your legs pumped faster with the urge to get to the track and inside the walls of a team hospitality.

From the corner of your eye a shadow slipped through the bodies and your elbow flew out as your mind went straight to the worst case scenario. Was it an overzealous fan wanting a picture or a fanatic wanting to hurt your family?

“Ow, zusje, what the fuck?” Max asked as he rubbed at his ribs.

“Jesus Christ, Max, what are you doing? Don’t jump out at me like that.”

“She’s a little on edge right now,” Charles said quietly, acutely aware of all the cameras pointed their way.

“I can see that. Is it the crowd? Do you want me to call in reinforcements?”

Charles shook his head and walked quicker to catch back up to you. “We would probably be there by the time anyone came.”

Lactic acid burned your calves and reminded you just how hard you were going to have to work to get back to your pre-baby fitness but it felt good too. It brought you back to yourself in a way you had forgotten since becoming a mother and the endorphins from the exercise began to relax your body and mind.

Your pace began to slow and Lando smiled proudly like you had won a world championship. “Now can I hold your hand, love?”

You shifted your hold to the centre of the handlebar so you could still navigate the stroller and placed your hand in his. “Thank you,” you murmured as he kissed your knuckles.

“I would tell you not to worry but I don’t think it will make a difference,” he replied between waving to his fans.

“Aren’t you worried? There’s so many things that could go wrong.”

Lando stopped and turned with a serious look on his face that was only softened by the untamed curl that fell over his brow. “Of course I’m worried too, babe, this is our family and Autumn is the most precious part of it. But, I have to trust that we have done enough to protect her and you and Charles,” he said with a wave towards the security guards. “Do you remember how nervous you were before your first race? You could barely keep your food down and Pierre thought you were actually going to pass out during the Anthem.”

You rolled your eyes but a small smile leaked through. “Don’t remind me.”

“I would have caught you.”

“You were six inches shorter than me.”

Lando stood straighter and looked down at you. “That’s beside the point, I’ve more than made up for it now.”

“Yes, you have,” you said with a wink. “Much more than six inches.”

Charles interrupted the appreciative gaze you dragged over your boyfriend’s body. “Will you two please behave?”

A devilish smirk grew on Lando’s face. “Never, but I will go and sign some autographs before I get in more trouble.”

“Is it me or is he even more cocky?”

“Winning does that to a guy.”

Charles scoffed and curled an arm around your waist. “I will have to remind him what second place feels like, it’s my turn to win Monaco.”

Max laughed, reminding you that he was still there as you approached the paddock gates. “Half the grid thinks the same thing.”

“Well they have a chance with you starting P2,” you teased your brother before grinning at Charles who took pole position. “Take that chequered flag.”

You scanned your ID and the pass for Autumn too as everyone else did and clustered together on the other side again.

“Where are you going to be watching from?” Max asked as you approached his hospitality first.

“Homeboys box, but Toto wants a word so I’ll take bub there first.”

Max looked like he wanted to say something but his name was called out from his team waiting by the dark blue entrance. Instead he stepped forward and kissed your cheek before kissing Autumn’s and tickling her toes. “Tot zeins, mooi meisje.”

“She’s going to speak Dutch before me at this rate,” you complained as he walked away, still not knowing what he said to her.

“Learn quicker then.”

You threw him the middle finger that made him laugh before he disappeared and then it was your turn to say goodbye. Mercedes was the next garage followed by Ferrari then McLaren.

“We will see you before the race,” you promised as you unbuckled Autumn from her stroller and held her to your chest. The garages were tight enough as it was without trying to fit the pram inside too. “Say bye-bye daddy,” you said with a wave of Autumn’s little hand as she woke from her nap. “Love you.”

Charles and Lando both kissed her cheeks and said their goodbye before you received your own chaste kiss on the lips. “Call us if you need anything, I will keep my phone with me,” Charles promised before stepping away.

“Same, and these guys are going with you too,” Lando said with a nod to the security shadowing your sides. Your entourage joined you in Mercedes but thankfully took a wider perimeter since there was a fairly strict policy in who could enter the garages. Toto didn’t seem to mind the additions since you came bearing a pretty great gift.

“You are a beautiful time waster,” he said sweetly as he cradled Autumn to his chest. “I have work to do, little lady, yes, I do, but I’m not ready to hand you over, no, I am not.”

“I get the feeling that Jack will be getting a sibling soon enough,” you said to Lewis who swung back and forth on his chair with his headphones half on his head.

“I don’t think it’s Toto that needs convincing,” he said with a laugh. “It’s not his career that goes on hold, you know that.”

“I never would have said it before, but she’s worth it,” you admitted. “Still not sold on doing it again though, got one more championship to win.”

“I know that feeling,” he said wistfully. “Charles had better bring her to Maranello too.”

“I don’t think much work would get done if she was there,” you pointed out. “And like you said, you have a championship to win.”

Autumn suddenly decided that she was starving and started to cry as she nuzzled into Toto’s shirt and you laughed as you got up to retrieve her. “Sorry, bub, there’s no milk in those titties,” you teased as you picked her up. “Is there somewhere I can feed her?”

Toto looked around and shrugged. “Wherever you’re comfortable. There’s rooms down the hall if you want.”

“I’ve learned it’s not about my own comfort.”

“If anyone’s got a problem they are free to leave,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear and return to their work.

You took your seat again beside Lewis and unzipped the discrete opening on your shirt before unclipping the small window on your bra.

“Come on, man, she’s just trying to feed her baby. Get those cameras out of here,” Lewis said as he blocked the lens and started to herd the Netflix crew back out of the garage.

It had taken a week of trial and error before mastering the art of latching but now you had a routine and Autumn quickly fell back to sleep despite trying to keep her awake. Lando had joked he would sleep better if that was his routine too, at least you thought he was joking.

“Can you hold her please?”

Lewis didn’t need to be asked, he had been patiently waiting his turn since you walked in the garage. He even knew to draw soothing circles and pat her back to bring up her wind. “There’s those famous Uncle skills you bragged about.”

“Told you, I’m just down the road if you guys want a babysitter for date night.”

“I might take you up on that in a few weeks.” You looked over to Toto who was speaking to Bono and jutted your chin his way. “Has he mentioned anything about who’s in line for your seat?”

“Nothing set in stone, just lots of talk - or at least that’s what he told me.”

“Fair enough, you’re the enemy now,” you teased.

“Netflix is going to love this season. Did you see Nando re-signed?”

“Mhmm, I sent him a pot plant and instructions to wipe the floor with Lance. I think he’s taken it on board.” Fernando already had nearly four times as many points in the driver championship so far and you expected that to increase after the race.

“There’s rumours Lance is going to WEC next year, maybe there'll be another seat opening.”

“Fuck that,” you scoffed. “If I get a seat it’s going to be with a team that has some sense of loyalty. I’m sick of being dropped like a hot potato the second anything goes wrong. I’m desperate, but not that desperate.”

Lewis was about to be called for the driver parade and you realised just how quickly time had passed. “I should let you finish your rituals, we still have a few stops to make before the race.”

He handed Autumn back and gave you a hug. “Don’t lose that glow stressing about getting a seat, mama, enjoy your time with this little beauty. Che sarà, sarà.”

“Practising Italian already, huh?” you teased as you buckled Autumn into the stroller where she promptly fell asleep after the movement disturbed her. “I will keep your wise words in mind.”

The paddock was quieter as you made your way down the line of garages. Most guests would already be in the viewing spaces above the pit lane to watch the drivers parade so there weren’t many people for security to part.

“Ma’am,” the head guard called as he stood in front of an imposing suited figure. “He wants a word.”

You nodded your head and he moved to let the man through. “I’m kind of running late, Lawrence.”

“I just want to say congratulations,” your old boss said as he looked into the stroller and removed his sunglasses. “She’s very cute, you must be proud.”

“You could have sent a text message.”

Lawrence sighed at the frosty tone. “In hindsight things may have been handled a little callously but you should understand it was for your own good. This isn’t an office job that can be worked while pregnant, it would have been irresponsible as an employer.”

“I understand that, it was the fact you fired me without even talking to me first - I had to find out through the tabloids - and before that the way you let your son get away with treating his team is actually despicable.”

Lawrence pulled a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned his glasses as he stared off into the distance. “You’re not wrong, but we are working on his attitude and behaviour - discreetly.”

You raised an eyebrow but he wasn’t going to share anything further, instead he took one last look at Autumn and put the aviators back on his nose. Maybe there was some weight behind the rumours.

“Hopefully we’ll see you back on the grid at some point. You were one hell of a racer.”

“Am, Mr Stroll,” you corrected as you turned the brake off the pram. “I am one hell of a racer.”

Click here for the next part.

[drvscarlett]

Let Him Cook pt5

Charles Leclerc x MasterChef! reader

A/N: I'm really so happy with all the love that you have given to this fic. I enjoy writing about it, let me know if you have any blurbs or scenarios that you wanna see. This series will continue on and on

Let Him Cook Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams @barcelonaloverf1life @ririyulife @minseok-smaus @mehrmonga @sltwins @charlesgirl16 @six-call @spideybv28 @casperlikej @weekendlusting @janeholt3 @evie-119 @leilanixx @randomgirlnumber-13 @itsjustkhaos

lec lerc challenge

"As you all know by now, Charles is planning to launch his own ice cream store"you started talking to the camera "And you know what funny story, he didn't even tell me"

Charles, who was by your side, was laughing like a hyena. He actually wanted it to be discovered on the the first day of April so everyone might think its a prank but then he will announce that he is very serious about it. It was an elaborate prank on top of prank. However, the news sites got a hold of it earlier.

"That's another story time. We have to get down to business" Charles reeled the topic back to the video that you two are making.

"Okay so in order to test Charlie's knowledge about ice cream, I have here ice creams that I made myself" you explained.

In front of the two of you were 10 paper cups. They have been covered on top so that Charles won't get a hint about the color.

"So my main task is to identify what's the flavor of the ice cream"Charles confirms "Easy"

"I made some unconventional flavors to throw you off" you informed him.

You can't help but giggle as you remember how you made some weird flavors for the ice cream. But hey, this was supposed to be a challenge to see if Charles' taste buds are working so it doesn't necessarily have to be a delicious ice cream.

"Okay, I am ready to scream for ice cream"

The first five cups were easy peasy. It's common flavors such as chocolate, vanilla, cookies and cream, caramel, and pistachio.

"I'm good at this mon amour"

Charles is pretty confident now. Time to throw the curveballs.

"I'm excited for you to try this"you excitedly give him the cup.

Since Charles is blindfolded as he does this challenge, the first thing he does is smell it. He is usually confident upon spelling but the frown lines forming on his face suggest that he might be confused about the flavor profile.

"This feels strange. I smelled this before but I can't put my name on it"Charles notes.

He takes a scoop from the cup and tasted it. It was evident to his face that he didn't enjoy this ice cream a lot.

"That's so sour, mon amour there are definitely strawberries in that"Charles complained.

"Strawberries and?"

There was a string of italian and french word from Charles as he tries his best to identify it. Finally, he had a lightbulb moment where he remembered the taste of it.

"BALSAMICO" Charles screamed "That is not a flavor I will put in my store, definitely"

Y/NCooks posted a photo.

Y/NCooks turns out Charles is pretty good with his taste buds. Watch me test Charles with his ice cream skills [link]

User1 Atleast we know that Charles is committed to being an ice cream man

User2 Charles_Leclerc you should definitely try the bourbon and corn flakes in the menu

User 3 Highly agree, I would love to try that User4 were all acting like were so close to milan. Babes we live across the world.

LandoNorris do you have some plain ice cream left for me

Y/NCooks i have some but its good to try other flavors every now and then Lan LandoNorris mmm, i'll try that black sesame one. that seems like a good flavor Y/NCooks brilliant. message me when i can see you Charles_Leclerc im amazed how Y/N managed to convince you of different food choices

MasterChefAU is this Charles' entry to master chef blind taste test challenge?

Charles_Leclerc MasterChef Monaco soon??? User4 I'm laughing at the number of sidequest Charles has. SIR you are an f1 driver!!!

Charles the baker

Charles_Leclerc posted a photo.

Charles_Leclerc okay i did all the measurements right. WHY DID THEY EXPAND

User1 I can hear Charles screaming with the caption

User2 Charles is such a mood when I try to bake things

User3 But is it edible tho?

Charles_Leclerc it is but its not as pretty User4 this is an internet highlight wherein Charles is sulking and asking the internet where he went wrong

maxverstappen1 recipe reveal?

Charles_Leclerc no ✨✨ maxverstappen1 don't want it anyways. i just wanted to know what you did so i won't end up like that User5 MAX!!!!! User6 your honor we love the lestappen crumbs

Y/NCooks honey maybe you should consider giving it some space, bread do expand when they get baked.

Charles_Leclerc they do?? Y/NCooks Yes they do. But in all honesty they look so cute, its alright honey Charles_Leclerc love you mon amour!

SebastianVettel maybe we should have a baking session one of these days, I can teach you a lot about baking breads

Charles_Leclerc sounds good, miss you already Seb User7 oh to be Charles Leclerc having the Sebastian Vettel teaching him bread and MasterChef Y/N encouraging him

tiktok pasta challenge

It was a fairly simple tiktok viral recipe and in your mind its something that Charles will be able to follow instructions with. So you set up your camera and told Charles about a cooking challenge that he has to do.

"Today's challenge, Charles will be using his listening skills. Lets see how well he listens to me"you greeted the camera "Are you ready mon amour?"

"More than ever, I look good in an apron"

You stayed behind the camera as Charles stayed in front of the kitchen counter. He was tying up his apron and grabbing your chef hat from one of the drawers.

"First of all, I need you to quarter an onion"you instructed.

Charles was immediately grabbing the onion and you immediately face palmed yourself when Charles started quartering the onion without even peeling it.

"Honey, you are supposed to peel it" you sigh

"Honey, you didn't say anything about peeling it. We have three cameras set up and editors should replay that you said quarter it and not peel it" Charles argued

You raised your hand in defeat, you should have been more clearer.

"Okay, I'm not gonna be vague. I'll make it clear"

The whole cooking went along smoothly until its time for Charles to cook the pasta. He has been heavily stressing to get the texture right this time or else it will further the allegations that he can't cook pasta.

"Calm down Charlie"

"I am very very very calm, I'm just checking" he lifted the lid for the fifth time "They have to be perfect"

"Charles is very honored to be taught by Gordon on a 1 on 1 session"you informed the camera.

The two have exchanged numbers and Charles will often ask his culinary questions to Gordon when you were not available to answer them right away. Gordon seems to enjoy the new friendship with the driver since he often send Charles link for cooking recipe to try.

"I don't wanna be an idiot sandwhich" Charles muttered, stirring the pot of pasta.

Charles got a perfect al dente to his pasta. He pulls out the baked feta and tomatoes out of the oven then mixed it with the pasta. It seems as if the dish looks pretty especially with the garnishes that Charles insisted.

"Plating is also everything"he says to the camera as he grates some lemon zest to the plate "Whatever this taste like, just remember that Y/N was instructing me so if there is anyone to blame then its Y/N"

"Way to throw me under the bus Charles"

Y/NCooks just posted a photo

Y/NCooks The dish vs the chef. I think they are equally yummy [link]

User1 CHARLES CAN COOK!!!!

User2 alternative title charles stressing 10 minutes straight if the pasta is al dente or not

User3 The girlfriend effect on Charles is that he is now able to cook pasta

User4 I really want to try that pasta

Arthur_Leclerc i hope you never get tired of the pasta, its the only thing he will cook from now on

Charles_Leclerc i mean she loves it!!!! Y/NCooks its pretty good arthur, you should try it!! Arthur_Leclerc next family dinner? Charles_Leclerc im on it! User24 oh to be a fly at the Leclerc family dinner

User5 I think everyone ignored the caption, miss maam thirsting over her boyfriend

User6 if i was Y/N i would too Y/NCooks facts only!!! User6 Mother replied to us!!!

scuderiaferrari so charles is approved for a cooking challenge in the channel soon?

Y/NCooks he is born ready User8 kind of missed the c2 cooking challenges

everything i cooked

Charles_Leclerc posted a reel

here is everything that I did to celebrate Y/N's birthday. This isn't a common day, its really special so I have to run at 5 to get the flowers I ordered for her. Then next I cooked up breakfast which is some pancakes, thank you Carlos for the recipe. And then I surprised her with a little bit of breakfast in bed

and then I started making our lunch after clearing the table. Y/N had been craving butter chicken and I purposely did not take her so I could make some at home. Its a fairly easy recipe, I just had to mix some spices, cook the onions then you have the tomato paste and then cream. thanks Gordon I owe you one. She loved it so much.

and then I started early on the dessert for dinner. I didn't do the ladyfingers from scratch, I don't have a lot of time so yes here we are. The tiramisu is in the fridge. And then since Y/N loved the Lady and the Tramp spaghetti meatballs scene. I did my own take on it. Needless to say she loved it. So yes happy birthday once more mon amour, I love you so so much.

User10 I know we have been making fun of Charles but the man can actually cook.

User11 My boyfriend be forgetting my birthday but Charles here is slaving in the kitchen for Y/N's birthday

User12 CHARLES IS THE STANDARD!!! User14 Imagine cooking a whole breakfast, lunch, dinner, with a birthday dessert???!!! GOD I SEE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS

MasterChefAU Im glad to hear you are treating our girl well, happy birthday Y/NCooks

User13 OUR GIRL??!!!! Y/NCooks he is treating me well, thank you for all the greetings

Gordongram That's a beautiful dish and effort Charles!

Charles_Leclerc Thank you !!! Y/NCooks he is screaming btw Gordongram

PierreGasly when will you cook for me

CarlosSainz55 and me?? i think there is some former teammate privileges out here LewisHamilton the current teammate is also wondering SebastianVettel you boys are not Y/N. Y/N is special. Charles_Leclerc what seb said!!!

Y/NCooks one of the sweetest gesture anyone did for me. Thank you honey for making this day extra special. I don't need any five star restaurants when I have you in the kitchen.

Charles_Leclerc I love you. You deserve the world User21 Them your honor. User22 Happy Birthday Y/N, you two are excellent for each other

[shadowsndaisies]

dogfighting 101: 05 - sugar and spice

wc: 1.6k

synopsis: hangman leaves everyone hanging... right?

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: absolutely loving all of your comments!! heres some hangman and then centric stuff which I KNOW people are waiting to see more of. the next update will be the final for dogfighting 101 but will feature an interaction between rooster and athena that probably (very honestly) wont answer your questions (yet)

“Howdy Miss ‘Thena,” is Hangman’s opening as you both enter the range.

“Hangman,” your greeting’s lacking a little luster.

Despite your early success, you’d only managed tone once and this was rotation four for you, and that’s not even taking into account the variations in which you weren’t flying and that no one else had managed to take your dad down yet.

Your arms hurt, your shoulders hurt, your back hurt, and you wanted to shower so incredibly bad. More than all of that though, you were emotionally exhausted. Flying with Bradley had been the gift that kept giving because even though you’d already gone through another rotation, you kept thinking about the blow out, about the before, about Bradley. As you stood on the tarmac again, you took in the little indents in your palms from the gravel being pushed into them during your push-ups, rubbing over one red mark and shaking your head. Safe to say, you could not wait to finish out the final few rotations, and then go home.

“What’s the matter, Honey?” the tease comes over the comms and even though you know he wants an answer all you can do is scoff.

“Getting tired of push-ups is all,” you say simply.

“I was hoping so,” Jake decides and your brow furrows. You don’t need to see him to know he was planning something.

“What are you planning?” you ask seriously, fully aware that your dad and the rest of the detachment was listening in.

“I was wondering, are you still made of sugar and spice and everything nice?” it sounds condescending, and you’re sure Phoenix and Halo are scoffing at the question, but you know better.

Sugar and Spice was a code, a reference to something you’d only ever talked through with Jake during some downtime on the carrier. Unlike Rock and Roll which you’d actually trained for with Harvard and Yale during Top Gun, Sugar and Spice was completely theoretical.

“You’re joking,” you deadpan, turning to glare at him through the canopy.

“You said you were tired of push-ups. I think it could work, especially since two highly decorated and competent aviators came up with it. Unless, of course, you’d rather continue the heavy set arm day you’ve got going on?” he says nonchalantly.

“Why does it feel like you called me a coward while also complementing me?” you scoff.

“Because you know me,” is all he offers.

“That’s a lot of chatter for two aviators who don’t have the bandit in their sights,” Maverick’s voice finally cuts through, interrupting your back and forth with Jake.

“Hangman, you got eyes?” you ask staring around and out the canopy after confirming your dad wasn’t on the radar.

“No, my guess is he’s coming from below the hard deck again,” the other aviator offers and you do a quick roll, inverting like you had on the first run.

“No contact,” you huff, rolling back.

And then all of a sudden you hear a boom and Mav comes zipping down in front of you. Breaking the sound barrier as he drops from where he’d been miles above you and Jake moving faster than you’d anticipated.

“Holy shit!” you shout.

“Oh fuck!” Jake’s curse echoes with yours.

“Fight’s on, Aviators, let’s see how your arms feel after, kid,” your dad teases as he circles around.

“Break left!” Hangman’s shout echoes.

And you do.

You break left and loop around, looking for Jake who’d gone int he opposite direction. He hadn’t ditched you, yet. Not like he had with Phoenix and Bob earlier. You know it’s not entirely fair a line of thought though, he was different with you, he’d yet to break a promise or leave you out to dry, not like he so flippantly seemed to be with everyone else. You hesitate a second longer before deciding, no, I do not want to do more push ups, and yes, I do trust Jake.

“Sugar and Spice,” you finally shout.

“Wait, really?” the surprise is evident, as if despite his cocky attitude he couldn’t believe you were agreeing.

“Yes!” you confirm, rolling your eyes. “Now move your ass, Hangman!”

“My fine ass, you mean,” he shouts back and you can hear the smirk as he loops back to meet you so you could assume the correct positions.

It’s tricky, you decide.

You always knew it would be, but you never thought you’d actually try it out. In theory, Sugar and Spice was supposed to create a gap that was a trap for the bandit. Where Rock and Roll was a distraction and attack, with each aviator having a specific goal, Sugar and Spice held more risk. Here both pilots act as the distraction, while attempting to get tone at the same time. When you’d initially talked it out with Jake there were three possible formations. Option A was the Side by Side, where you fly parallel. Option B was the Stack, where one pilot flies directly above the other. And Option C, which you had succinctly named, the collision course; in which one approaches from the tail of the bandit, and the other nose.

It seemed Jake had decided to run the collision course. It took a few maneuvers, some creative flying in order to lure Maverick into the right space at the right time, but then you were approaching form his nose, while Jake came in from the tail.

“What the fuck?” was your dads response when he realized that he had to make a choice, continue to attempt tone on you, move before Jake got tone on him, or move before you got close enough to get tone on him.

He feigned a left, which you followed, but then he made a sharp turn right.

What Mav didn’t anticipate was the height change. Jake had moved up, just enough to angle himself perfectly, and to ensure that if your dad didn’t move from the game of chicken you were playing with him, you wouldn’t just crash into your own teammate.

When Maverick flipped a hard right, probably hoping to get tone on you, Jake got tone first, having seen the move coming, and prepared accordingly.

It was silent for a moment, as the tone rang out.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Maverick’s voice crackles over the comms as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

When you land Hangman’s already on the ground by your ladder, having rushed out of his jet after landing first.

You’re not even all the way down when his arms wrap around you and he pulls you down, “Holy shit, ‘Thena, that was fucking incredible!” he shouts, squeezing you for just a moment.

This is Jake, you think fondly. You liked Jake, a lot. You liked him a hell of a lot more than Hangman. Unfortunately, you knew that not everyone got to meet Jake, and that, you decided was a god damned shame.

“I mean, I always knew you were smart, ‘Thee but this idea really was something else entirely! And getting to test it out, I’m fucking ecstatic the height change worked….” he was rambling, and there was this twinkle in his eyes that made the green seem alive.

You hadn’t seen him ramble since before the announcement of the detachment, honestly not for a while if you’re honest. Maybe the last time you’d both had feet on solid ground instead of an Air Craft Carrier in the middle of the Pacific. He seemed younger, the southern drawl more evident as he talked too fast to fully enunciate each word.

“Seresin! Mitchell!” the shout from your dad forces Jake to stop, and you notice as his brain finally catches up, how he steps back from you and straightens out, how the excited gleam in his eye dies out a bit, and you frown at Jake, because you watch as he tucks the more authentic parts of himself away.

“Yes, Sir?” you ask, turning to your father who was approaching.

“Hell of a move, where’d you learn that?” he asks, looking between the two of you.

“Lieutenant Mitchell designed it, Sir. After a cat and mouse training exercise on the carrier between our squads,” and if your dad was shocked before, hearing Hangman of all people pay another pilot credit was the blackout on top of the bingo.

“It was a team effort, Sir,” you argue. “Then and now, I honestly wouldn’t have been able to do it with anyone else,” you admit, and something in both your father’s gaze, and Jake’s softens.

“Keep thinking outside the box. It’s a good skill, and you’ll need it,” your father praises you, before turning to head to Hondo for his push ups, giving the next group a bit of a break.

“Hey Maverick!” you shout after him, “Always think the 360!”

A random sentence that no one else would understand, but he would, and based off of the near prideful smile he shoots you before turning back around, you know he understood.

While your dad did his push ups and the next pairing came down, you stopped in an empty hallway. “Hey, Jake?”

“Yeah?” he asks, pausing and then turning back once he realized you were no longer right beside him.

“I’m happy it worked too. Thanks for not leaving me hanging,” you say softly.

He looks down and then back at you, brows furrowed as if something wasn’t adding up for him, “Mitchell, you should know by now, I’d never leave you,” he says in response, green eyes swirling with emotion, too many to place, but his words feel like so much more than just talking as your wingman.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes @geeksareunique @je6291 @kee-0-kee @fanreader75 @whoismurphyslaw @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @thespillingvoid

if your tag is striked it means i was unable to tag you.

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 10)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 2960

A/N: A lovely human asked me today if this fic is over and I thought damn I got to update quick before I lose all my readers. Hope 2024 is treating you all well, here's to the first post of the year!

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 10, Next Chapter

You opened your eyes scanning the room you're in, first you saw the curtains shut. Clothes neatly pilled on the side, a messy stack of books and parchment. Then you turned around and saw the back of Remus's head as he slept peacefully. Thoughts of guilt, lust and memories flooded your head. You began to think whether he regrets last night, was it just a drunk mistake, what do you say to him when he wakes up. You felt him move and turn towards you, on his face a gentle smile. "Morning dear, how'd you sleep?" He asked and kissed your forehead.

"Really well, you?" He scooped you closer with his arms to his chest.

"Let's ignore the conversation we have to have now and just savour this moment." He whispered while cuddling close to you.

"I like that idea." You replied breathing in his smell. Your heart felt full and you felt so comfortable like this was the place you were waiting to be your whole life, and he didn't seem to regret it but rather welcome it.

"Now dear would you like some coffee? Breakfast?" He asked softly not letting you go.

"What a gentleman." You joked in return.

"I try my best." He said with a wink before kissing the top of your head and standing up, he put on a T-shirt and his trousers from last night. "I'll start making the coffee, rest as long as you want."

You lay there in naked confusion and bliss, you were happy but you were confused. You had no idea how you will face him in class after waking up in his bed. You got out of bed putting on yesterdays clothes and grabbing one of Remus's sweaters for warmth before making your way down to the kitchen. The room smelt of coffee, Remus looked younger for a moment with messy hair and wearing no socks on the cold floor as he made coffee. He turned around with a smile. "Good morning, nice jumper." He said with a wink. He winked a lot you noted, maybe he was just as nervous as you right now. "Do you like it with milk or black?" He asked.

"Splash of milk please, no sugar." You confirmed and he followed your instructions and handed it to you. "Perfect thank you."

"Care to join me on the roof for a smoke and coffee? Then we can think of breakfast plans." He said walking towards the stair case and you followed. You sat down side by side on two chairs, it was cold but you didn't mind. "You know this has always been my guilty pleasure, coffee and a cig the morning after, I thought it made me cool." He admitted looking out onto London.

"It makes you look cold, I'm not sure if cool is the right word." You said and he laughed lightly to response, shaking his head.

"It used to calm my nerves because I wasn't sure what to do with a girl in the morning after, how guys are meant to act, so I figured out to start my mornings with a smoke and conversation, not that this is a common occurrence."

"What you don't sleep with your students often?" you joked to ease your discomfort about this whole situation.

"I don't sleep with anyone often, especially students."

"Why?"

"Because they're my students and I have somewhat of a professional-" You interrupted him by saying "No I mean why don't you sleep with people often."

"Y/N you know what I am."

"So?"

"So, being around me, close to me is not only dangerous but also a burden to a persons life. Therefore I've found it's better to focus on solitude and not burden anyone else who I may possibly care for. Y/N I am not a man I am-" You once again cut in to stop Remus Lupin from his usual self-loathing pit. "I'm hungry."

He quickly checked his watch "We could go to a bakery about 5 minutes away they should be open, we can grab some pastries if you'd like."

"What time is it?" You asked in fear.

"Half past nine, why do you need to be somewhere?" He asked with a slight painful tang behind his voice.

"The Weasleys, I was meant to be staying there. I need to go before they all wake up." You said leaving your coffee and heading down to Remus's bedroom, Remus followed you down.

"I'm sure you'll be okay, just tell them you fell asleep on the sofa." He tried to calm you as you put on your jacket and gathered your belongings.

"No, I'll never hear the end of this. Molly will kill me." You said in panic.

"Y/N you're an adult they'll understand, just stay finish your coffee, I can write to Molly that you are here." He said placing a hand on your shoulder to calm you.

"I'm sorry Remus I don't want to run like this but I have to, I don't want to try and explain why I'm here in the morning. Happy new year." You simply said to him as his face dropped into a frown.

"Happy New Year." He said quietly and you apparated to the Weasleys house. You didn't know that you left Remus with a feeling of enormous guilt, he felt like he used the opportunity of you drunk to sleep with you and now you regretted it. He was reminded of your age by the way you rushed home, you may be eighteen but you still sometimes behaved like someone's daughter and that made Remus feel uneasy about perusing you, especially when you have to rush home the morning after. Rush home to a friend of his. The guilt ate him alive as he cleaned the coffee that you didn't finished and put out your half-smoked cigarette. In that moment he made a decision, he messed up, he got close to you and kissed you because he couldn't control himself and based on how you ran out the house you obviously regretted everything.

You on the other hand felt guilty for leaving, Remus treated you nicer than anyone else you've ever slept with, he made you coffee, he cared, it filled your heart with warmth, you knew you'll have to apologise for how you left. You slowly walked through the house up to the spare room you were staying in when you bumped into Percy who was going to the bathroom. He gave you a quick look up and down in a judgmental way and didn't even say hi, then as you passed the twins' room they opened the door with big grins. "Nice jumper." They both said at once. You looked down and saw you left in Remus's jumper.

"Shit." You took it off in that very moment in panic. "Don't tell anyone." You warned them.

"Our lips are sealed." They said in unison. "Although we will high five him next time we see him." Fred shrugged.

"Don't you dare Weasley." You warned.

"So how was sleeping with our dear professor?" George asked.

"Was it everything you dreamed of?" Fred added.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Was it at least good?" Fred pushed.

"The best I've ever had. And he made me coffee in the morning and hugged me and kissed me." You felt like you were melting just thinking about it.

"The best?" Fred repeated.

"Who knew prof would be so good." George added.

"Let's not talk about it, I actually have to sit in his class after this." You felt a bit sick at the idea, that was the end of that conversation. You quickly went to take a shower and change. After that you wrote a letter to Remus apologising about leaving so soon and thanking him for the coffee. He didn't reply. You sent him another three letters over the next few days making sure he's okay however he didn't reply. So you got the message, and he did regret it, he was just being nice to you in the morning because he was a good person. You were nervous to go back to Hogwarts but you decided you won't let New Years stop you. You came back a week before term, and you thought it may be good to bump into Remus before term starts to talk. You went to the bridge but he didn't, you knocked on his office but no one answered, you even tried to find him using the map but it was like he was always waking away from you.

You finally saw him on the first day of term, he was sitting eating breakfast in the great hall with all the teachers. You received and owl and it was from him but he didn't look up at you at all.  The letter read:

"Welcome back to the new term miss L/N.

As previously agreed our tutoring continues to prepare you for you exams.

- Professor R.J.Lupin"

You looked up at him but he didn't look at you.

In his lesson that day you sat nervously in your seat, you were sitting next to Sebastian as you and Percy weren't on talking terms after New Years. "Are you okay?" Sebastian whispered watching you move around in your seat nervously waiting for Lupin to arrive to the classroom.

"Just nervous about exams." You explained to him, he put a hand on your leg to steady it. "It's okay you'll do great, I've got some calming fraught if you want it though." He said and you nodded. He slipped  you the potion and you drank it, you didn't realise that around the time Sebastian put his hand on your leg Remus was walking in the classroom and watching the whole interaction. "Better?" Sebastian asked and you nodded in response. "Thank you." You said and he gave you a smile before moving his hand from your leg as you had stopped shaking from stress. Remus cleared his throat as he stood at the front of the classroom. "Welcome back I hope you've all had a good new year," Remus said, looking at you intensely during the last three words. You instantly felt hot however because of the position you didn't feel worried instead slightly turned on as you looked back at him, after a moment of eye contact he ripped his eyes away.

"Now I'm sure you're all nervous, but I will get you as prepared for your exams as possible all I ask is for you to listen and pay attention and that way I can help you." He continued, his eyes kept catching yours as if he couldn't look away and you were now enjoying the attention as all stress had left your body. However the closer to the end of the lesson it got the more the potion started to wear off and you could no longer look Lupin in the eye, he noticed the change in you and was very confused, he simply couldn't read you, he knew you took a potion however he wasn't sure what you took, he suspected it was calming draught but he had to ask you in your tutoring session if you show up. You considered skipping it but you knew you had to speak to Remus sooner or later and you didn't want to fail your exams because of him.

You lightly knocked on his office door filled with a bit of anxiety, he was sitting marking papers when you came in and he smiled gently at you but you could see he was on edge just like you. "Good afternoon Miss L/N. I hope you had a good Christmas." He greeted you and it filled you with anger that he was just pretending nothing happened.

"Can we talk?" You asked quietly sitting down on a chair near the front.

"Is it about your studies?"

"Obviously not." You snarked and he sighed pulling up a chair opposite you.

"We shouldn't, it's my responsibility to prepare you for your exams and" he began before you interrupted with a simple. "Remus." He loosened his tie and sighed.

"I'm really sorry Y/N. I'm really sorry for what I did, I should've been the responsible adult, I'm your teacher for fuck sake." He began and he looked visibly upset.

"Do you regret it?" You asked gently.

"Obviously, I shouldn't have put you in that situation. I pushed myself onto you, I knew my feelings for you I shouldn't have spoken to you at all if I was drinking."

"But I wanted to kiss you."

"Y/N I'm your teacher." He said as a matter of fact.

"So I don't care do you? Answer honestly."

"No." He shook his head and swallowed hard.

"Would you want to kiss me again?" He did say anything he just looked at your lips. "Answer honestly Remus." You added and he shook his head.

"Then do it." His eyes didn't leave your lips for a moment and then he made eye contact with you and he simply said "I can't."

"Why?" You asked him pleading.

"Because I am falling incredibly hard for you, and all I'm going to do is hurt you. Because I am your teacher. Because I can't offer you anything much more than a tea and a great music taste and an awful lot of knowledge on books."

"I don't care, you made me feel special, you make me feel loved."  You continued to beg.

"Don't lie to me I saw how you ran out the house." He said with a angry and annoyed tone.

"I wrote to you three time to apologies, and you ignored every single letter." You said feeling like you're about to cry.

"You did?" His complexion changed suddenly.

"Yes. But I got the message that you rather ignore all this happened."

"Y/N, I wanted to make you coffee, take care of you and then talk to you like an adult about what this means for our lives here, but you ran out and the only letter I received was this from Percy." He said pulling out a letter that was crumbled up in his pocket, the address was Hogwarts, of course, all your letters went to the cottage but he didn't go there he came straight to the castle it all clicked.

"Why did Percy write to you?" You asked softly and he just handed you the letter to read.

"Dear professor Lupin,

As head boy I urge to remind you that you are our professor within and outside school grounds. And I believe you don't need to be reminded of school rules, especially for a man with your condition losing this job may be disastrous.

Happy new year, P. Weasley Head boy of Gryffindor"

"That prick." You said quietly and looked up at Remus. "I promise I didn't tell him anything."

"How would he know?" Remus asked he looked like you betrayed him.

"Your jumper," you began and Remus have you a puzzled look. "I came home in it the morning after and Percy saw me, he gave me a look of hate, we haven't talked since." You answered honestly. "Remus I'm sorry about this, can you ignore it and can we have this conversation based on our own opinions." You said and Remus sighed.

"No matter what I am your teacher and we've crossed a line."

"How do you expect me to focus in your lessons after what you've done to me professor?"

"Fuck you calling me professor like it doesn't turn you on." He said looking away and taking a deep shaky breath. "Can I kiss you one last time dear?" He asked and you nodded. And he leaned over the desk to kiss you slowly, the kiss was desperate and slow, as if he was savouring the moment, he put a hand on your cheek and tucked your hair behind your ear just like he did that first morning.

"Don't make it the last." You said as soon as he pulled away.

"Dear, as soon as you realise I'm just a broke man who's been cursed since childhood the sooner you'll realise you don't want me, so many men will be able to offer you the world, I won't."

"I hate you, I hate that you won't even give yourself a chance to be happy." You said feeling like you're about to cry.

"Y/N I'm trying to protect you." He pleaded.

"Or maybe you're just trying to protect yourself from feeling any good emotion in your life?" You said standing up. "Maybe you don't realise you're hurting me by not even trying, by leading me on."

"I'm sorry Y/N, I truly don't know what I'm doing, I wish I was, let's leave this conversation for another day let's start working on revision."

"Remus how am I meant to sit here and listen to you teach me while all I can think about is wether you like me just for sex, wether it's because you get turned on by fucking your student, wether you're just lonely and I'm convenient or wether an ounce of you actually cares about me."

"Y/N, if you want to have this conversation with me you need to act your age not frantically shout your thoughts at me like a school girl." He said harshly his mood becoming a lot more authoritarian.

"I am a school girl! I hate you Remus Lupin, I hate how you treat me, I hate you for making me feel like I mattered for you to just change your mind when it's convenient. I hate Percy for that letter. But I really hate you." You said pushing the tears away from your eyes.

"I'm not surprised, I hate me too." He said looking down at the desk and then he went silent.

"No Remus. I didn't mean-" You began realising your emotions got the better of you, truly you were scared about how much you liked him, how dependent you were becoming on him, how life wasn't the same without him.

"You've said enough. Goodbye." Remus said turning around and walking upstairs to his office without a single turn back to face you. And that was the last time you saw Remus Lupin that week, the next lesson you had with Lupin was taken over by Snape, and even your tutoring was now with McGonagall. Lupin returned on Friday evening, you saw him in the great hall during dinner, that's when you received and owl from him which was rare during dinner...

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish Chapter Two -- Where Is She

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: really super mild versions of cannon violence.

Word count: 2,072

Previous Part: Make You Wish Chapter One -- Seven Years

Master list link:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I accidentally posted this before I was ready tooo ahhhh!!! it's fine. Everything was already written I just had to format it properly and stuff.

Alastor had been at the Hazbin Hotel for only a few days and was already enjoying his time there greatly. It was an entertaining place, to say the least, and now that he had his feet under him, he was intent on making it even more so.

Charlie was pacing around the sitting room, stressed beyond belief. She had gone to speak to Adam the previous day to try and get his support for her plan, only to wind up with the news that the next extermination was coming in six moths, rather than the usual twelve. Alastor watched her duress in amusement as he sauntered into the hotel lobby, side stepping Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie to take a seat at the bar.

"It's nothing we can't handle," Charlie was explaining, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else in the room, "just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right? And next time, when they cut the time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!"

Vaggie got to her feet, grabbing her girlfriend by the shoulders and stopping her from her relentless pacing.

"Yes, we will." she confirmed.

"Oh please," Angel cut in from the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone, "ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit. And now...? Ain' no silver lining this time, toots."

"Sure there is." Charlie turned to him, "We just have to look a little harder for it."

"Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts."

Angel turned his phone to Charlie, showing all the news headlines of terror he'd pulled up.

"People are already freaking out about the news. Look at what's happening in the Doomsday District."

He scrolled down to a video of a burning town just as a text notification popped up.

"Uh, what is a 'donkey show'?" Charlie asked in confusion, having read the text.

"Ah, heh, nothing." Angel pulled the phone from her line of sigh, trying to come up with a quick lie, "My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news too. Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."

"Yeah, that is true." Vaggie hummed thoughtfully, a hand to her chin, "Sinners are desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape extermination?"

"Speaking of sinners," Alastor said, drawing the attention in the room to him as he turned towards Husk who was busying cleaning glasses, "I think it's time I look up my old partner in crime."

"And what do I have to do with that?" the cat demon gruffly replied, not sparing Alastor a glance.

"Your partner in crime?" Charlie asked, taking a step towards the bar, "I always thought you... you know, worked alone?"

Alastor's grin widened.

"Oh never you mind, dear." he replied, throwing her a glance over his shoulder, "Just a lost soul I'm acquainted with is all."

"Yeah. You've been trying to get her to sell you that soul for what, the past seventy years is it now?" Husk scoffed.

Alastor's eye twitched slightly at the implication of his failure.

"If I wanted it, I would have it." he hummed threateningly, and Husk backed down.

"That's great!" Charlie exclaimed, "So she's a friend of yours? Do you think she'd help with the hotel? Oh! Or maybe that she'd want to be a guest?!"

"Charlie-" Vaggie began but Alastor quickly cut her off.

"I don't see a harm in asking." he cheerily replied.

"And you know her, Husk?" Charlie asked.

He looked up as he placed a clean glass on the shelf, shooting Alastor a glance before nodding.

"Do you think she'd be a good fit?"

He sighed, crossing his arms as Husk turned to face Charlie fully.

"She's a sweetheart, I think you'd get along well." he admitted, "But she's trouble, just like him."

Husk gestured towards Alastor and Charlie's smile widened.

"Well, with all Alastor has done for us so far, I think we could probably use more trouble like him."

"Oh you flatter me." Alastor waved her off, looking away in a false show of humility.

"No really." Charlie insisted, "You-"

"Show yourself, Alastor!" a dramatic call cut Charlie off mid thought.

----

"Um. Alastor?" Charlie hesitantly began, peeking out from behind his shoulder as she watched the havoc he was wreaking on the snake shaped sinner, "I think he's had enough."

Alastor cackled joyfully, not even watching as his shadows destroyed the air ship.

"Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im." Angle disagreed, enjoying the show immensly.

The shadows tilted the ship forward, dropping Sir Pentious out through the broken windshield. He hit the ground with a thud, right before Alastor's feet. Stopping in his fit of laughter, he looked down at the man, spinning his microphone like a baton.

"Thanks for another forgettable experience." he teased as one of the egg creatures fell from the ship, splattering on the ground beside Charlie who took a step away.

"Thank... you..." Sir Pentious began, his voice pained as he raised his head slowly, "for letting your guard down!"

Almost before Alastor could register what was happening, the snake had grabbed onto his coat with his tail and torn a piece from its hem. Alastor took a menacing step forward, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh shit." Pentious' triumphant laughter died out.

Slowly, Alastor sprouted a pair of shadowy horns. With a snap of his finger, the ground under the snake detonated, throwing him up into the air and far away from the hotel with a scream. He watched as Pentious flew away, retracting his horns and standing with a hand behind his back. Once the snake was out of sight, he at last turned to Charlie and Angel, as well as Husk and Vaggie who had come out to join them.

"Well, it looks as thought I need a visit to the tailor." he hummed, "Husk?"

"Yeah?" Husk grunted.

"Where did you say she was again?"

"I didn't."

Husk crossed his arms defensively and Alastor took a step towards him, his smile a little smaller than normal. There was an odd air between the two of them, a tension every one present could feel biting into their skins.

"Whats that?" Alastor asked lowly, his head cocked slightly to the side.

Husk sighed.

"Last I heard she was working for some imp in Pentagram City." Husk reluctantly admitted, looking away, "As an assassin or something, I don't know the details."

"An imp, you say." Alastor thoughtfully replied, his expression unreadable.

"Look, Alastor." Husk turned back to his master, "Don't fuck this up for her. She seemed pretty happy last time I saw her. You disappearing like that wrecked the poor girl."

"Just means she'll be all the more happy to see me."

Alastor turned, beginning to walk away. At the sound of Husk speaking again, he paused, keeping his back to the quartet.

"Alastor, ju-"

Alastor turned his head, shooting Husk a critical look over his shoulder. It shut the cat demon up almost immedeatly.

"Best of luck, chums!"

"Wait, you're leaving?" Vaggie exclaimed, taking a step forward.

Irritation prickling beneath his skin, Alastor turned back to them once again. It had been seven years, he didn't know how much longer he could wait. Sure, he'd had time in Hell on his own, nearly twenty years of it. He didn't need her per-say, she just made things more interesting, more enjoyable. It just felt odd for them to be parted.

Sure, when they had first met, he had thought she was just an easy steal of a soul. Young, naive, frankly undeserving in his opinion of eternal damnation. But smart, smarter than she looked. Y/n had refused any and all deals with the man and so, he had taken it as a challenge. What had begun as a game: Alastor trying to gain ownership of Y/n's soul ended up as an after-life long friendship.

Alastor would never admit it to anyone but, in his absence, he had even missed Y/n the smallest bit. She kept things interesting, he told himself, that was all. Always causing discreet mischief, always quick with a joke. A true pleasure to have on the show, as he always used to say.

"Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job." Vaggie continued.

"We need a wall." Angel finished for her, gesturing to the portion of the hotel Sir Pentious had destroyed in his attack.

"Of course." Alastor replied, keeping an irritated remark at bay, "Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?"

With a snap of his fingers, minions made of shadows pulled themselves from the ground at his feet. So as not to give anyone another chance to stall him further, he quickly turned on his heel and walked off.

Alastor was a man of image, he kept his pace slow and firm. Couldn't have any of them getting any ideas in their heads about the nature of his relationship with Y/n. That had always been trouble in the old days. The minute people saw the pair together, they started assuming things. He had already decided he was going to be more careful about that this time around and this was the first step.

There was a slight bounce in his step as he headed into the city's center, an odd anticipation fluttering in his chest. Alastor pushed it to the side. It was simply the thrill of being back in his old stomping ground that was to blame. It didn't matter he'd already been back a few days and it should have worn off by now, he should just feel lucky to still be so entertained by this place he'd known longer than he'd even been alive. Right?

----

Y/n was sitting at Blitzo's desk, reading through paperwork he had neglected to fill out or file correctly. It wasn't like any one in Hell really payed their taxes, but the mess still stressed her out. She let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes in irritation. She had never had to do this type of work before, not since she'd been alive anyways. How the times had changed.

Noise of Blitzo and Moxxie fighting filtered in through the closed door. It wasn't anything special, anything new. The pair were always at one another's throats, she wasn't worried. What would be worrying, was if things were quiet. This was just the way life sounded now: inelegant and brazen. Nothing like it used to.

The buzzing of her phone on the desk beside her pulled Y/n from her reveries and she picked it up. The collar lay heavy around her neck as she read the message. Y/n had made some bad choices along the way, figuring out how to be on her own. She wasn't pleased with them, but it was what she had had to do. Back then, she hadn't had the need to fight for herself in over sixty years. It was the only thing she could think to do.

She double tapped the text, marking it with a thumbs up before shutting her phone off and leaning her head down on the table. There was no point in wishing for things to be different than they were but, it was just that time of year and the text had pushed her over the edge. A few stray tears trickled out of her eyes.

"Goddamnit, Al." she sighed into the empty room, "Where the hell are you."

Silence pressed its hands against her ears, blurring her perception of the world around her. Y/n had a few seconds, a few nearly peaceful moments before, again, her thoughts were interrupted. This time, not by her phone but by Blitzo calling for her from the other room.

"Y/n!" he yelled and she lifted her head off the table.

"Yeah?" she called back through the closed door.

"Get your ass out here!"

"Why? A client? Can't you handle it?"

"Y/n!" he insisted again, a sense of urgency to his voice.

If this was anything less than an absolute emergency, he was never going to hear the end of it. She was not in the mood for his games today.

"Fine." she groaned and pulled herself from the chair, "I'm coming."

----

Next Part -> Chapter Three -- A Reunion

[patroxlos]

home base . ch7

"friends who use their phones in bed" - 5.4k words

ultraman: rising (2024). kenji sato x reader

can be read as a stand-alone. However, if you want to read their first kiss, you may do so for added context.

master post. ao3 link.

previous: ch6. "friends who are stuck together"

next: ch7. "friends who are for the people"

cw: EXPLICIT. First time fellatio. frottage.

Two weeks after your first kiss, you and Kenji get more comfortable with your new dynamic as friends with benefits.

And even in the heat of things, you still find something to argue about.

---

Los Angeles, Ten Years Ago.

“Any plans for tomorrow?”

You look up from your dinner as your Auntie Emiko asked. She sits across you at the dining table where you sat beside Ken. “Hm…I think we might stay in again for the day. Right, Ken?”

Ken is in the middle of shoveling some more grilled salmon into his mouth when you redirect the attention to him, and he nods in agreement, his voice muffled. His mom and you have matching looks of disgust on your face as he tries to speak with his mouth full.

“…yeah. It is stay-in day tomorrow,” you confirm.

Emiko looks puzzled. “But Kenji doesn’t have practice tomorrow. Don’t you guys want to head out to the city?”

“We don’t really know what else to see,” you say a lame excuse. In response, she curiously looks at you then at Ken, who finally swallows his food.

“You both rarely leave your room lately when last month you were bouncing to explore the whole state.”

“Training really tires me out,” Ken smoothly responds, rolling his neck from side to side in an exaggerated stretch. “Leaves me with no energy to want to do anything else. After a week on the field all I want to do is lie back.”

She pauses momentarily as she looks at her son, and you force yourself to maintain a calm demeanor. Is she onto us? “Maybe…when you have your days in, you can leave the door unlocked and open?”

Before Ken can protest, you subtly step on his foot to tell him, Don’t complain.

“Is this because you feel lonely, Auntie?” You ask sweetly. Emiko looks a bit taken aback by your question. “I understand it might feel like you’re all alone in the house when Kenji and I are holed up just playing video games together.”

“I…I guess it does…” She let her guard down slightly around you. She can expect Kenji to pull something, but you? The daughter she never had?

“How about tomorrow morning we head to brunch? Just the two of us! We can even schedule a last minute appointment to the salon,” you spun the dream mother-daughter bonding day. “We’ll be back in time for Kenji to wake up at noon.”

“Hey I don’t wake up—”

“Of course we can spend the morning together.” Your auntie places her hand over her heart, touched. All business with the door and how they spend their time completely forgotten.

She does not need to know what you and Ken do in your spare time nowadays.

And with the door locked for the evening, she definitely does not need to know how the sweet little girl she is so fond of has her head in-between her son’s legs.

“What was that earlier?” Ken asks, breathless. He sat up by his arms as he looks down at you, tracing with his gaze the path your lips followed, edging closer to the front of his boxers. You left the lights on, and it reflects off your trail of saliva on his inner thighs.

You don’t respond immediately, busying yourself with the soft, flexible skin good enough to bite. You expect everything about him to be taut and firm, an athlete to his core. It’s cute that he can get so pliable when your touch melts him like so. You anchor your palms at the back of his legs to hold him open as you continue to tease his thighs.

You hear your name tumble out of his mouth when your tongue swipes a fat line at his growing bulge, against the salty wet spot of his boxers, his muscles tensing under your hold. “You really want to talk about your mom right now?”

“I…I— oh…” He can’t think straight when you start nuzzling your face against his swelling size. “Shit—”

You continue to lick him through the fabric, his musk filling your senses. You try not to giggle when you feel him twitching eagerly against your tongue. You lift your head to give a small kiss once more to his thigh. “Mind taking it off?”

You’re still fully clothed, in your sleep shirt and shorts, compared to him. Shakily, he pushes himself to sit up properly. His hands reach for the elastic band of his boxers, trying his best not to look too eager when you help him tug it off his legs. Without the fabric keeping it down, his dick jumps to attention, long with a slight curve towards his right.

“Take it slow…” he encourages you, his voice a little breathless as you lower your head closer to his wet tip. He deeply inhales when you clasp your left hand around his base. His eyes screw shut, the anticipation making his toes curl.

A pleasant prickle crawls up his spine when he feels your warm, moist breath hit the head of his cock.

Your hand slides up along his thick vein, following his natural curve.

And as soon as it started, he feels a draft of cool air down below when you move away.

“Wait.” You back up and reach for your phone nearby on the mattress. “What’s the next step again?”

Ken freezes, and opens his eyes.

You’re busy tapping out your lockscreen passcode.

Ken flops backwards to the bed, his palms covering his face in frustration. “Oh, fuck me—”

“I’m getting there,” you snap as you scroll through your digital notes.

He groans impatiently, his erection growing painful as it stands proud in the air. His legs are still spread wide. “Just put your mouth on it, I said I’ll teach you.”

“And I said to wait.” You crawl back between his legs but your gaze doesn’t lift from your phone. “Maybe you should sit at the edge of the bed and I’ll kneel down? Or maybe sideways in case you want to finger me while we—”

“The current position is fine…” He tries to sit back up but you push him down with a hand on his chest.

You begin to mutter to yourself, running through the steps you have written down. “Mmm… warmed you up, yeah…consent?” You look up from your phone to Ken expectantly.

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, you did have my consent,” He hisses.

“Okay…hm…take of your shirt, kiss down your chest, tease your inner thighs…leave a few marks?” You glance down, at his legs. “Haha, yeah, nice—”

“Are you done? Because I’m growing soft here.”

“Hey, keep it hard, I’m doing my best,” you whine.

“Well all this talk isn’t helping.” He swats your hand away and successfully sits up, his elbows resting on his knees as you still sat in between his legs.

You roll your eyes and put down your phone to remove your shirt, exposing a modest bra. “There, have something to look at.”

“Can you at least take off your—” He does not finish the sentence as you throw the bra at his face. Grumbling some more, he tosses it to the side.

Normally, fooling around with you isn’t so clinical. Ever since your first kiss by the pool almost two weeks ago, it’s hard to remember a time when his hands aren’t on you. Your normal trips around town are now defined by rough makeouts in alleyways and end in hurried handjobs at the backseat of his jeep when you cannot wait to get back home. Your touch is an aphrodisiac at this point, and he fears he may overdose. Maybe you should have had separate rooms, because he is starting to feel the recklessness of his libido.

Because when you asked him the previous night if he could help you learn how to give a blowjob, he nearly skips training earlier today in anticipation for what is to come.

Apparently, no one is going to come at all now with how Type A you are with something as instinctual as oral sex.

Normally he will find it cute how your nervousness can translate to overpreparing. However, he needs to figure out how to turn your brain off.

“Okay, look…” He reaches forward to touch your bare shoulder. You hesitantly rest your phone on your lap as you hear him out. “How about you lie down and I eat you out? How about that?”

“No,” you reject him immediately, like how you rejected him the dozen other times he asked, offered and even begged. “I want to do you first.”

Even if you’re both equally stubborn, Ken still tries to be patient with you. Slowly, he shifts closer, pressing himself against you as he begins to rub your arm. “But, princess, how are you going to know whether a guy is doing it right if you won’t let me go down on you?”

“I don’t think this arrangement allows for pet names,” you huff, and he rolls his eyes. “Besides, I don’t get why you want to that much.”

“Baby,” he sees your eyes twitch, “it’s because you taste good.”

You slap his knee, flushing from the obscene compliment, but you can’t say anything back.

Taking it as a good sign, he lets his hand drift a bit lower to your waist, giving you a light massage. You let out a deep sigh, and you lean forward to give him a kiss, reaching forward to clasp around his girth. Your other hand loosens its grip on your phone, and it falls off your lap and onto the ruffled navy bed covers. 

He groans into your mouth deliciously with every shallow pump. Your lips are gentle, yet deliberate, and he marvels at just how good you move against him when you were a stammering amateur weeks ago.

You pull away, slowly, yet your hand still loosely holds him. Your thumb lightly swipes the slit of his head and his mouth falls open.

“You always make me feel good,” you murmur. “I want to make you feel it too. Wanna prove to you that I deserve it. You teach me so much so I want to show off what I now know.”

“God you’re so stupid.” He laughs without malice. “You don’t have to blow me to prove anything. I already told you that if the guy likes you enough it’ll always feel good.”

“You don’t like me that way though,” you point out. “So I need to prove my skills.”

“What skills?” He makes a face. “You can’t automatically expect yourself to be the blowjob expert on your first time. Just feel it out and avoid showing teeth. It isn’t something you can just practice—“

You turn away.

“…you practiced?”

“…I wanted to impress you?” You fiddle with your phone. “I studied really hard and tried to apply what I learned—“

“Woah woah, did you— did you, with other guys—“

“No! No, I never…I practiced in other ways.”

Neither of you understand why his body sags with so much relief when you say that, or why it mattered if you did anyway.

Still, he needs to pry. “So…how?”

“God I’m not telling you, you pervert.”

“Your hand is on my dick.”

You smear said hand against his face, his pre-cum wiped against his nose. He laughs and grabs your wrist with his left to keep your hand there.

“What are you doing?” You tug to get your hand back but he keeps it right in front of him.

“Just look at me.” His exhale tickles your fingertips.

And without breaking eye contact, his mouth opens a bit more, then closes softly over your index and middle fingers.

“K-Kenji?”

He responds with a gentle suckle, his lips passing your second knuckle. You feel the rough texture of his tongue run over your fingertips, pressing flat against its pads. A soft whimper leaves you, as a familiar heat unfurls from deep within. He notices the way your legs unconsciously shift closer, seeking pressure to alleviate your spreading itch. He chuckles, and the vibrations run through your body and settle just below your navel.

The entire time he continues to watch you, catching every quiver of your lip and twitch of your brow. He’s let go of your wrist at this point, yet you hardly notice, your eyes fixated on how your fingers disappear into his mouth.

You only break from your stupor when he scrapes you with his teeth.

“Ah— Kenji!” You flinch, and he chuckles as you take your fingers out his mouth.

“And that’s what I mean by no teeth, except it’ll be ten times worse down there.”

You cradle your hand to your bare chest, then slowly nod in understanding. “Okay…I see…”

“Did it feel good?” He smiles wider when you glare back. “Don’t be shy, baby, tell me.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sweetheart.”

He lives to make life harder for you. You push down your pride. “Yes, Ken, it did.”

“How good?”

“Don’t.”

He grabs your waist to pull you onto his lap, and you hardly resist. Your legs fold beneath you as his own straightens out. You stabilize yourself on his shoulders, and as you properly sat onto him, you feel his dick wedged between your abdomens. You can feel him throb against your clit, only separated by two thin layers of fabric.

His head dips down to the top of your breasts, his hair tickling your nose as he begins to lightly kiss the start of your cleavage. He stretches the band of your shorts before snapping it back against your hips. “You’re overly dressed.”

“H-Hngh… can’t take it off tonight until— ah, shit—let me taste you.” Your stubbornness will be the death of you.

“Dumb rule,” he sasses back, before he cups your right breast to push it upwards to his mouth.

You nearly cry out, the hot wet sensation on your nipple and the soft massage of your breasts are a dangerous combination. You rock your hips forward on his lap, greedy for more. His teeth grazes your nipple in response, hissing harshly when he feels the underside of his cock scratch pleasantly against your shorts.

Your head is thrown back, and your eyes are tightly closed. His hair brushes against your chin as his tongue makes its way to your left breast. He smiles against your soft flesh, rolling your hard bud around in his mouth. “Shit, you’re getting close from this?”

You sharply tug his hair, pulling him off your chest, too embarrassed to admit that you are. Yet, instead of the annoyed grunt you expected, the pain on his scalp causes Ken to let out a strangled moan. Oh, you are stunned, he’s freakier than you thought.

He grins, bringing his left hand up to cup your face. You rest your cheek in his palm and your lips part, sighing at his foolishness. He rests his thumb on your bottom lip, coaxing you to open up further. “Your turn.”

“Hm?” You hum against his touch.

“Show me.”

Maintaining eye contact as he had done, you gently kiss the tip of his thumb, until you take it whole into your mouth.

“Oh fuck…”

His right hand grasps your hips to guide you into a rocking motion on his lap. You pant as you grind against him, the head of his cock tapping against your belly button. He presses down on your tongue, as you lean more into his palm for support. As your panting slows, you begin to suck lewdly on his thumb to stop yourself from being too loud.

You are close. Shit.

And he can tell from your sloppy pace as you grind against him without any real rhythm, to the fucked out look in your eyes. The only goal bouncing in your empty brain is release.

“Can’t even talk?” He teases. His balls feel heavy and painful as you suck his thumb, and he aches to feel your mouth elsewhere. “Open wider, princess.”

Your eyes narrow slightly, showing you’re not as out of it as he expected you to be, but still you comply. His thumb slides out, replaced by his index and middle finger. Your eyes flutter closed, puckering your lips to take more of him in. You gag as his fingers nearly brush the back of your tongue, and the sound shoots straight to his dick. You haven’t even fit it fully in your mouth yet.

 “Fuck…god you’re so hot. You’re also so, so stupid.”

You let out a garbled protest, still every bit of the fighter you are, yet he pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth until your front teeth nearly scrapes against the base knuckles. Your chest heaves at the sudden intrusion, yet you clench your thighs at the sides of his lap.

“Do you think I’d do this for just anyone?” He interrogates you, fully knowing you can’t respond. “You’re so smart, baby, but god can you be so fucking clueless.”

The other hand on your hips slides towards your shorts and dips low over your clit, rubbing circles over the fabric as you reach your high. Ken’s ego swells as you suck his fingers harder, your senses going overdrive from the pleasure.

“You’re getting off to this?”

His fingers are spat out of your mouth when you fall forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder, trembling from his touch. “Fuck you, Sato. Fuck you fuck you—“

“That’s it, ride it out…” He coos, kissing the side of your head as he slips his hand into your shorts to directly stroke you through your orgasm. He lightly pinches your bud. His other hand pats your hair soothingly. “You can bite, I don’t mind.”

You sob as your teeth bluntly sinks into his shoulder, and he groans from the pain and the dampness that coats his fingers. His dick weeps against your stomach from neglect.

You raise your head as he cleans his fingers with his mouth, groaning at your taste. “Oh god—” he curses even if this is far from the first time he has had a sample of you.

“Don’t…be dramatic,” your words are slightly slurred as you calm down from your high.

He kisses you in response, his neediness spilling out and his grip digging into your waist. He swallows your gasp as he guides you down to the mattress, caging you down with his body. “Please…” He murmurs against your lips when his thumbs hook on the band of your shorts.

He begins to pull it down by an inch.

You roughly push him away by his shoulders, appalled. “Motherfucker, you’ve been trying to distract me.”

“And I was so close too,” he grumbles when you catch him, and he tries to lean back in but you hold him at arm's length, your hands splayed against his defined pectorals. “You get all ditzy when you’re in it.”

“No.”

“Fuck, please just a little taste…” He lifts one hand from your shorts to cup your mound, your wetness having seeped through the cotton. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

You kick him lightly on the shin in response, and he rolls his eyes. You push him off of you, and he does not resist, but he still pulls you close to his side as you sit up on the bed. His hand tries to dip once more into your shorts but you stop it just as it tries to pass your navel. “I just came.”

“That’s even better.”

You shove him back down onto the bed, trying to resume your position from the start of the night. His dick blooms an angry red now, frustrated from being ignored for so long. “That looks like it hurts,” you comment as you settle in between his legs again.

“It does,” he confirms, pushing himself up by his arms as he lays bare, all for you.

You have always been intimidated by his length, and every time you hold it you worry at the back of your mind just how on earth it would even fit if you two ever cross that point. Of course you’ve never told Ken— he doesn’t need to know you’ve deeply thought about how he might feel inside you, or how the curve of his dick may pulse against your walls.

“Are you just going to stare at it?” He snaps you out of your thoughts. Ken tilts his head to the side, a bored look on his face.

Flustered, you shake your head immediately. “I-I just need a moment to…”

“You know, there’s a way to ease your nerves.”

“Really? What is it?”

“So the first step involves my tongue against your—“

“Ken. I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

“You know how many girls would kill for their boyfriends to go down on them?” He continues.

“Well you’re not my boyfriend.”

“Exactly, because boyfriends don’t go down on you. And with your type for guys I definitely don’t think any of them would be as generous as me right now,” he says as if it is fact. He’s conceited, but wouldn’t you also be if you were in his position?

Think about it. No one else can give you as good of a first time as he can, because no one knows you like he does. He pities you, really. Because no other guy would be as patient and careful as he is with you. They won’t take the time to hold you the way he does, to feel for what you like and push your comfort zone. No, all other boys just care about getting their dick wet, and they won’t even look half as good as him. You’re too pretty to settle for anyone less than himself. Six foot and still growing. A wide chest, slim waist. And he knows you know he’s a lot bigger than average. He has visible abs for god’s sake, does that mean nothing to you? It’s terrible but he is such a good, giving best friend. He could’ve left you alone to kiss mediocre boys and eventually marry a mediocre man, most likely someone your parents picked out for you. And you’ll never know the touch of what you deserve. He’s doing this for you. So at least when you go on to pursue whoever can give you that mediocre love, you’ll always know there’s someone better out there. It’s cruel to curse you to a perpetual state of wanting, but he can’t help it. You deserve the world, and you need to feel what it’s like to have it all, even if you may never find what you had with him ever again in someone else.

And Ken wishes he can say all that to you, but he knows you’ll just bash him on the head for even implying that you can’t get any better than him. Except he won’t even be implying. You just don’t get it— he can’t imagine anyone being good enough for you.

Unaware of his internal monologue, you search around for your phone. “Okay, but let me run through my notes again—”

You reach for it when you spot it close to his foot, but he reaches for it faster. He grabs your phone and flings it towards the sofa.

“Ken what the hell—”

He pulls you back between his legs, stopping you from chasing after it. “Don’t.”

“You could’ve broke my screen!” You nearly shout even if your phone is safe amongst the sofa pillows.

“I’m a varsity baseball player. You think I don’t know how to aim?”

“I can’t believe you—”

“Do you want to suck my dick or not?”

“I do!” You say weakly. You really do.

“Then you need to get it in your head that you’re being an idiot.”

You try to slap him but he grabs your wrist.

“Not every guy is blessed to have a pretty girl willing to even touch them, and if it’s you? You’re practically doing charity. All you have to do is bat your eyes and drool a bit and they’ll come before your lips even touch the tip.”

You’re…oddly reassured.

“Sweetheart,” he continues, sarcastic. “Why do you think we’ve been messing around this entire time?”

You’re confused, but answer anyway. “Because you’re helping me learn how to—”

“Wrong.” He cuts you off. “We don’t have to makeout all the time to teach you how to do it.”

You think for a moment. “Practice?”

“We cuddle.”

“Okay, that doesn’t mean anything—”

“Exactly. It doesn’t mean anything. So why are you trying to tackle this like I’m grading you?” He gets you there.

You actually don’t know what there is to be nervous about. And why are you giving him the satisfaction that he does make you nervous?

“Listen, we’re not dating, and I’m mature enough to admit that this ‘teach ‘me’ thing is just an excuse. You like this. I like this. We’re friends who make each other feel good and there’s nothing weird about it.”

His grip loosens on your wrist, but holds it just the same.

Your shoulders slump, realization sinking in. Kenji is right.

He presses your hand onto his chest, and gently, he drags it downwards. You swallow, still scared, but you let him take charge. “I’ll talk you through it,” he murmurs. “So don’t think.”

You feel him purposely brush your fingers against his toned core, just to let you feel how deep the ridges are. You snort, and give him a look to say ‘really?’ Arrogant prick. Show-off.

He ignores you, and soon, he guides your hands to touch the pulsing base of his cock. “Gently,” he whispers, “It hurts a bit now, since all your stalling gave me blue balls.”

“That’s not a real thing,” you scoff, but you soon lower yourself down with your face a few inches from his tip.

“I thought I’m the one teaching you. Your only job right now is to listen.”

“Did you shave?” You giggle, not listening at all as your other hand gently cups his balls. You feel his freshly-shaven stubble.

He hisses at your touch, and nearly bucks into your face, but he steels himself with his waning self-control. “Shut up. I thought it’ll make you more comfortable.”

“Is that why you were nearly late to practice today? I thought you just needed an extra long shower after what we did this morning.” You give him shallow strokes down his length, light enough to ease the blood pressure that built up inside.

“Just…if you want to tease a guy…try licking around at the base first,” He changes the subject, entering his teaching mode.

“Hm…” You nod in understanding, ducking your head down lower just for him and slowing the shallow pumps of your hand.

Tentatively, you lick the bottom of his base, tasting the salty tartness of his sweat. You close your eyes to gather a sense of courage, and soon, you let go of your shame and carefully begin to give him long, broad strokes highlighted by the roughness of your tongue.

You hear a strangled noise from above but you paid him no mind, getting lost in his flavor. The masculine musk clouds your judgment and you bump your nose against his pubic bone. With one hand still cupping him, you brought your lips down towards his balls, planting an open-mouthed kiss on them before carefully putting them in your mouth to suck.

You felt him jolt beneath you, your name ringing out to the room. “Oh, fuck—“

His fingers brush against your cheekbone when he rushes to grip his legs. His nails dig into his skin while you remain oblivious to his waning self-control. Because who taught you that? Not him.

His mouth is locked open. His chest rises and falls as he tries to maintain a semblance of sanity. Ken is so pent up right now, he’s worried he won’t be able to hold himself back from releasing prematurely.

But here you are— dick resting on half of your face, as if measuring your head against it, with your mouth on his balls and your sultry eyes lazily blinking open.

You whine when he hastily pushes your face off of him, and his dick twitches from the sound.

“Don’t look at me like that,” his voice is hoarse.

“Was it bad?” You ask, confused as to why he suddenly made you stop.

“I-It’s okay. It was good.” He’s going to blow any minute now. “I…I need you to take it slow.”

“Okay,” you nod, leaning back down.

“You can, uh, kiss up the shaft from the base,” he struggles to remember how to talk. “Then when you get to the tip—“

You push your head close to his crotch before he can say anything more, and he nearly keens when your longue laps at his protruding vein, following it up to his tip. Your head is spinning, eager to please and to draw out even more sounds from his throat.

You let a puff of hot air hit his angry head. You look up for assurance.

His cheeks are dusted with a light pink, eyes unfocused, but he still manages a weak nod. “Yeah…yeah, just spit on it.”

You gather your saliva in your mouth, and let it dribble on his cock. He curses, louder, and you’re glad that the Satos are rich enough to afford thick walls.

Because when your lips finally envelope his head he loses his filter.

“Shiiit….Baby that’s it, just take it—ah— take it slow… Remember to breathe through your nose, yeah? Yeah— oh fuck babe…”

You struggle to pay attention to his words, but you slacken your jaw to accommodate his size and try to breathe as he said. You are getting dizzy from how full your mouth is. You rub your own thighs together, your brain swimming with the thought of this inside you, and you clench over nothing.

Mindful of your teeth, you try to move a bit further down, greedy to see how much more you can accommodate. He notices, and immediately his hands reach for the sides of your head to stop you. “D-don’t push it…” he slurs. “You’ll choke.”

Your eyelashes flutter, and you feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You don’t mind that at all.

Still, you’re realistic with yourself. You can’t make it to half of his length without gagging, and you feel him twitch in your mouth when you do. He likes it when you’re noisy.

You grab his hips to hold him down, aware of how he’s struggling not to buck up into your mouth and fuck your face. His fingers massage your scalp as a thank you for the added leverage.

“Does your jaw hurt, princess?” He reaches for the hinges of your jaw. His thumbs press down and lightly massaging your face. “Fuck— I can tell by that dumb, pretty look on your face that your brain s’all empty.”

You hollow out your cheeks, and your tears fall as you bob your head up and down dutifully. He wipes your tears as they slide down your cheek, cooing about how cute you look.

“You’re so good to me.” He brushes your hair out of your eyes. “You like sucking dick this much, huh, girl? — Oh god, that’s it. Drool some more for me sweetie… You’re a natural. Wouldn’t have guessed from how much you hate shutting up.”

You let your bottom teeth poke out slightly, and he pulls your hair as a warning. “Hey, ah-ah, behave.”

Your tongue is placed flat against the bottom of his cock, warm against his pulse. He lets out a relieved sigh, patting your cheek condescendingly. He can’t help but want to be a little mean to you. “See, baby? Don’t even need me to tell ya what to do. You lying about being shy? Only wanted to hear me say how much I like you?”

It’s so embarrassing how much you needed him to say more.

His grunts grow staggered, and his breathing picks up. He tugs harder on your hair as he gets closer to his release. The burn on your scalp feels so good when you’re deprived of oxygen.

“I-I’m…gonna…” He tries to properly warn you. “Don’t swallow. You’re not ready.”

He tries to pull your head off of him but you’re stubborn, sucking down even harder. You hate it when he tells you not to do something.

He curses out your name. “Fuck, I’m being serious, don’t—”

You flinch at the hot release that hits the back of your throat, and you sputter around his cock as the amount quickly overwhelms you. It leaks out the corners, dripping down his length and onto the sheets.

He wishes he can take a picture of your fucked out, tear-stained face. You look up, his cum still on your lips when you take your mouth off him. “That good?”

God, you’ll be the death of him.

A/N: hi i hope this wasnt awkward it's my first time publishing anything explicit fsdihodfs.

this was about to be a 15k word chapter with three acts: bedroom, gas station, first time— they all take place one after the other. the chapter wouldve been called "friends who run a marathon" bc it was just marathon sex lmao i wanted to convey that the two kind of fall into this hedonistic routine That is Actually Kind of Bad for them! still...15k words of you two fooling around like who wants to read that in one go (i did. i rlly did. i rlly didnt wanna split this chapter but it narratively makes sense fsdiohdfs)

i was starting to feel bad about how long it will take me to update if i stuck w the original plan so I decided to split the chapter into two and reserve the gas station and first time for chapter 9! next chapter we will go back to the main timeline. i dont want to write them too much in their teen years bc they are a lot crazier when theyre young adults, which is why i wanted to cram it all in one long chapter.

[shadowofthesun123]

Tyler's police station monologue analysis - to hurt, frighten or warn?

The discussion of the police station scene, and specifically the posts by @fullofwoe5321 and @claimedcrossbows, inspired me to write my own analysis. It turned out to be really big.

I've been trying to understand and explain this scene since my very first viewing. I've considered it while writing fanfiction, participated in numerous discussions.

I can't even count how many times I've watched it.

First, I'll take a step back and write a bit about the torture scene.

I consider Wednesday's actions very foolish and reckless, motivated more by resentment towards Tyler than by common sense. First, because if he truly was the Hyde, he could have transformed under torture and killed everyone in the shed; second, because she didn’t try to grasp the full picture, to see something more in Tyler than just a monster.Her justification could be that Wednesday was certain Tyler's master had been killed, that he is free, but doesn't want to tell her the truth - though in reality, he simply couldn't.

But clearly, for Tyler, these tortures were a devastating blow - literally a knife in the back. Wednesday had been the only person in years who genuinely showed interest to him. He had a poor relationship with his father, no real friends, and Laurel had turned him into a murderer, exploiting him. Wednesday was his hope, and the torture shattered this hope. A genuine betrayal. He thought she'd be able to accept his darker side, but instead, she chained him up and inflicted pain - just as Laurel had done to unlock the Hyde.

Of course, Tyler wanted revenge, to hurt Wednesday back, to mock her, hit her where it hurt the most - to show that he had outplayed her.

But I've concluded that this wasn't the sole, or even the primary, reason he approached her and delivered his monologue.

At first glance, this scene is a classic reveal of the villain who pretended to be good (some call this the "Prince Hans move," referring to Frozen), meant to serve as a turning point and hurt us - all viewers who liked Tyler. And admittedly, it worked. This scene genuinely frightened and hurt me. It's brilliantly acted and directed.But from Tyler's perspective, what's the point of this confession?

He makes an effort and takes a risk to approach Wednesday at the police station. She’s already about to leave, but he stops her, convinces his father to let them speak... and then directly states that he's the Hyde, even though at that moment there's no real evidence besides Wednesday's vision. Why this straightforward confession?

To mock her and deliver a villainous "I'm bad, very evil and bloodthirsty - see how I've outsmarted you!" speech?

Two things:

1. It's premature. She hasn't lost yet. At that moment, Laurel's entire plan was seriously threatened. The Sheriff and Weems had just agreed Wednesday would leave Nevermore hours before the night of the Blood Moon.

2. From point 1, it follows that Tyler’s confession wasn't beneficial to Laurel’s plan at that moment. What does it achieve? It only confirms Wednesday’s suspicions that he's the Hyde, deeply frightening her.

Moreover, there's still a day left until the Blood Moon. He could have waited just a day and then gloated as much as he wanted about how he'd won and she'd lost - for instance, at the crypt or on the way there from the station. Because only then would she have truly and irreversibly lost...

What an impatient Tyler... He spent so long pretending but couldn't wait another day, exposing himself unnecessarily. Let me remind you, he says all this in the police station, a couple of meters away from some woman who could've overheard something. Wednesday might've even had a recorder with her...

However, he deliberately made an effort to speak to her precisely there. Therefore, I think the true purpose of this monologue wasn’t gloating at all. It was meant to frighten her - really frighten her. But most importantly, to warn her.

If you look closely at how the scene is constructed, the most crucial line is the very last one. It stands out musically and through intonation:

“You have no idea what's coming.”

What is this if not a warning? In the woods Wednesday repeatedly insisted that Hyde's master was Kinbott. She was certain the master had been killed, and the Hyde was now on his own. She stopped looking for Laurel, thinking she was dead.

Obviously, Tyler couldn't tell her directly that she was mistaken. But the phrase "You have no idea what's coming," I think, is precisely about this.

Later, when Wednesday visits Xavier, she explicitly says, "Tyler warned me that something bad was coming."

I'll briefly step aside here for one paragraph to mention my thoughts about the scene with Xavier. In his toxic scene at the police station - which initially caused me a lot of negativity - he actually tries to protect her. I think he dreamed that she would die, and he's practically saying openly, "Do you want to stop this? Then leave! Go far away and never come back. That can't happen if you're not here. That's how you’ll save everyone!"

Despite my bias against him, it's an attempt to protect her. Interestingly, in their most toxic scenes, both Tyler and Xavier were actually protecting Wednesday.

But back to Tyler. The second purpose of his confession is to frighten her. Frighten enough that she would stop pursuing him, genuinely pack her bags, and leave Nevermore.I suspect Tyler knew about the arrangement Weems and the Sheriff made. It wouldn’t surprise me if he himself planted the idea of her leaving, something along the lines of, "While she's here, I don't feel safe. Make her leave." Because later, Weems explicitly says that Wednesday's departure was the Sheriff's condition.

It's hard to scare Wednesday, and Tyler knows this perfectly. He knows her obsession with the monster, her trip to the mansion at night. She's not the type to be easily frightened. But he says exactly what does scare her - that he enjoyed killing innocent people. That he's a real monster. She's scared and hurt; it’s clear in her eyes.

It's worth noting that from the perspective of Laurel’s plan, Tyler should have acted very differently. It would have been beneficial for him to continue playing innocent, pretending he understood nothing. Maybe even pretend willingness to cooperate, give her new evidence, rekindle her interest, and attempt to regain her trust.

In @thelovelybookworm comment I've seen the idea that Tyler knew the only way for Wednesday to survive would be his own death. Thus, he behaved in such a way that if a direct confrontation occurred, she'd be prepared to kill him. That seems too radical for me, but there's a grain of truth here.

Later, we learn Laurel sent Tyler to pick Wednesday up at the train station. Clearly, she didn’t know he had confessed everything. That means Tyler didn't tell Laurel about his monologue at the police station - after what he said there, would it be logical to send him to the station? To drag Wednesday by force and draw attention?

I wouldn't be surprised if Laurel also didn't know exactly why Wednesday was expelled, still believing Wednesday thought Xavier was the Hyde and trusted Tyler. Judging by the greenhouse scene, that's very likely. That means Tyler concealed this important, practically key fact from Laurel, and went to the station despite risking the whole plan.

By the way, interestingly, in the end, Wednesday is delivered to Laurel not by Tyler, but by Weems. But that's a topic for another discussion.

Perhaps at the train station, Wednesday would have been so frightened of Tyler that she would never go anywhere with him willingly - and she'd resist fiercely.

Now imagine the police station scene never happened.

Wednesday simply left; he didn't tell her anything. She'd feel defeated but wouldn't have been so scared. She would still believe Laurel was Kinbott, who was already dead, and Tyler was the only remaining enemy. Most likely, she'd continue pursuing him, seeking the truth, thus giving him a perfect opportunity to lead her right into Laurel’s hands.

In conclusion, I agree that one purpose of Tyler’s police station monologue was indeed to demonstrate his superiority to Wednesday, to hurt her deeply. But the primary goal was different - to warn her. And when Tyler utters the key line of the monologue, he's nearly crying. Clearly, he’s not thrilled about what's coming and about what's happening to him.

Previously, I believed it was the Hyde speaking at the police station, and that Tyler had lost control of himself after the torture - but now, I'm not so sure.

Tyler really is a good liar, actor, and manipulator - but in this scene, he's manipulating against his own interests. He confesses everything when it isn't necessary, genuinely frightens Wednesday, and permanently pushes her away, although from Laurel’s perspective, his goal should've been precisely the opposite.

Yet we remember he's angry with Wednesday, that she hurt him deeply by betraying his hope. Despite that, he's trying to protect her by pushing her away forever.

Many people say he was acting everywhere except in this scene - but I think the opposite: in this scene he was acting. Acting so convincingly that he broke not only Wednesday’s heart but the viewer’s as well. But I'm convinced it hurt him just as much as it hurt her.

In conclusion - I don’t exclude the possibility that everything I've written above is just my chronic hidden meaning search syndrome. And maybe it really was just a "Prince Hans move" by the writers to shock the viewers. However, I still believe that Tyler’s character is much more complex than merely a villain who enjoys killing.

[macknus]

Febuwhump Day Fourteen

Prompt: Becoming the Monster

Happy Valentine’s Day guys!!!

Febuwhump Master-post

Whumpee was dragged in by two of Whumper’s dark knights; the soulless demons of men that stood over six-feet tall and were the monsters parents told their children about at night. Inhuman, built by pure muscle and power and spite, like loyal dogs that followed their Master’s commands flawlessly.

Whumpee had fought against them when they came. Thrown himself into the fight, grabbing one of the knight’s giant cleavers and slicing through the only weakness Whumpee knew about in their armour; under the armpit. The black blood from the beast sprayed Whumpee’s face and clothes, choking as the foul stench invaded his senses.

Blinded by the blood, he didn’t see the gauntlet flying for his face until the last second. He dodged but the blow caught his jaw and he went spinning before he fell. He rolled to his stomach groaning as he pushed himself up, but another blow came to the back of his head and he went down. Barely conscious he felt the dark knights grab his arms and drag him to a carriage bathed in black, velvet fabric with a red symbol embroidered into the door.

Whumpee couldn’t even fight as they threw him into the carriage, couldn’t catch himself before he hit the metal grate on the bottom, smacking his temple against it. He groaned again as somebody climbed in behind him and the doors shut behind him.

“Hello Whumpee,” a playful, honeyed voice said above him. Whumpee groaned again. Even in his semi-conscious state, he’d recognise that fucking cultivated voice anyway. The voice of a snake dressed as a dream, a viper in the skin of a man.

“Kaeto?” Whumpee murmured, the world spinning even before the carriage took off on the road.

“Ah, wonderful. The brutes didn’t hit you too hard then. Get up, Whumpee. A man of your breeding shouldn’t be on the ground of a carriage,” he purred.

“I’m fine here, thanks,” Whumpee clipped.

A hand of slim fingers bunched into Whumpee’s shirt and in a flash Whumpee was dragged from the ground and thrown into the plush, crimson seats across from Kaeto. He smiled a vulpine smile, his jaw length white blond hair radiant even in the darkness of the carriage.

“Now. Much better. I can get a look at you,” Kaeto said, his silver eyes searched Whumpee from head to toe. His gaze felt like hands, stroking cold fingers over his body, making sure to dig his nails in when he found something he disapproved of.

“Paint a fucking portrait why don’t you?” Whumpee snarled.

Kaeto’s face remained disgustingly pleasant. He tilted his head to the side as he leaned on his cane, silver cat-like eyes alight with interest.

“You’re thinner since last I saw you, though you don’t seem to have lost your strength. And… your beard,” Kaeto said, his lip curling back with distaste. “Not to worry, a hideous addition that can be swiftly removed. Hmm, maybe a haircut too. And—” Kateo sniffed the air. “Gods, boy, did you sleep with wolves while you were away?”

Whumpee smiled coldly at Kaeto. “Always happy to displease, Kaeto.”

Whumpee glanced at the doors to the carriage, but before he could even form a plan of escape the end of Kaeto’s cane pressed into his chest, pushing him back against the leather. Kaeto’s face didn’t morph from pleasant, but his eyes burned with a sadistic light.

“Do it, boy, I haven’t had the thrill of a chase in a while.”

Whumpee swallowed, his hands tightening into fists at his sides, but he released his fingers and relaxed into the seat and put his hands up.

The crazed light dimmed in Kaeto’s eyes a little, his pupils returning to normal size. He pulled the cane back and put it on the ground. “Hmph. Seems you have learned some things in the wild.”

“I wasn’t in the wild,” Whumpee huffed. “I just wasn’t in Whumper’s dead, stone palace. What does he want with me anyways?”

“You know exactly what he wants, boy.”

Whumpee didn’t flinch or bristle at the confirmation.

“Well my answer remains the same.”

Kaeto let out a melodic laugh that was anything but warm. “Oh, sweetheart,” Kaeto cooed. Whumpee clenched his jaw. “You don’t get a choice this time, I’m afraid.”

Whumpee’s lips curled back. Kaeto laughed again. “You do look like a wild brute when you do that, boy. It’s the dishevelment I think. It gives you a je-ne-sais-quoi.”

“I’m a bastard, remember?” Whumpee snarled. “I can’t inherit his title no matter how much he wants me to.”

Kaeto leaned back in his seat and spread his hands, showing his palms in an almost shrug. “And yet, here we are. In the middle of the Hollows, retrieving you. You were difficult to find, Whumpee, almost as if you were trying to hide from us.”

Whumpee didn’t answer.

Kaeto leaned forward again on his cane. His eyes shining with amusement and something older. Something wiser. “The world works in mysterious ways, bastard. When you live long enough to see it all, there is an intrinsic magic to life.”

“Are you a philosopher now?”

Kaeto smirked. “While looking this good? Absolutely not. I’m far too vain for that, boy, as you well know.”

Whumpee scoffed but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He glanced out the windows of the carriage. Yeah. He knew.

They passed for a while in silence. A furrow formed in Whumpee’s brow as he glanced back at Kaeto. Kaeto never took his eyes from Whumpee while he contemplated quietly. But they lit up when Whumpee turned an inquisitive eye to him, a question under his tongue.

“Would you bow to a bastard, Kaeto?”

“Not one with a beard, boy,” Kaeto replied smoothly.

Whumpee’s eyes narrowed. “I mean it. Would you? If I am to be his heir, that’s what you’ll have to do you know.”

Kaeto’s pupils dilated with interest, until his pupil nearly eclipsed his iris like a terrifying, killer cat. “I have been aware of that since I sensed the power on you years ago, Whumpee. The gods have ordained you to be the heir. How could I, a humble servant, refuse what is divined?”

“You’re far from humble.”

“That’s true.”

“Or a servant.”

“Also true,” Kaeto sighed, scowling. “You couldn’t let me be dramatic for a moment?”

“You’re always dramatic,” Whumpee told him.

Kaeto rolled his eyes. “I didn’t miss your lack of enthusiasm for wordplay. If the future of this court is to be all plain speaking I will have to form a rebellion against your rule.”

Kaeto shot Whumpee a grin, exposing his sharp teeth. Whumpee scoffed and went back to staring out the window. His chest tightened as they passed from the Hollows into the outskirts of the city. Green grass and lush trees with changing leaves gave way to stone and moss and dirt as they past the poorest neighbourhood in the luxurious carriage.

Whumpee scowled as he stared out the window.

How his “father” could let this kind of poverty and sickness run through the most vulnerable of his subjects angered Whumpee. But then again, his father wasn’t known for being warm. Not even to his proper children.

He hated the man, and everything him and his infernal family and court stood for.

That’s why when the carriage stopped and Kaeto stepped out into the courtyard of the palace, Whumpee slammed the door shut and held it tightly in place. He wished there were locks on the inside of this infernal thing. But it didn’t take long for one of the dark knight’s to rip the door open and drag Whumpee out, snarling and kicking and fighting until he was subdued again, this time by Kaeto, whacking the back of his head with a cane. The silver eyed man told him to behave and Whumpee groaned in response.

They brought him straight to the throne room, Kaeto leading the way. They paused outside the doors when they opened and Kaeto stepped through, spreading his arms wide.

“Whumper, my darling friend. I have retrieved your renegade son.”

Whumpee caught a glimpse of Whumper in his throne. He sat more like a rake than a King; half sprawled across it as if he was bored, an elbow rested on the arm of the throne, a fist on his chin, propping his head up as he stared with his midnight eyes at the giant double doors. He had the same wavy, raven coloured hair as Whumpee that fell to just below his chin. The same strong jaw and straight nose.

In fact, many from the court said, Whumpee had more likeness to the King than any of his pure blooded children which served to anger Whumpee’s half siblings to an unnerving degree.

“Bring him in,” Whumper said, his voice deep, apathetic, like a tired God that was bored of life and all it had to offer because he had seen it all. But the moment Kaeto stepped out from in front of Whumpee, Whumpee saw the cruelty that was carved into his father’s face.

He looked at Whumpee with complete disdain, which was saying something since he usually only ever looked disinterested. The king glanced at the dark knights who dragged Whumpee in and held him before the raised dais to the throne.

His father nodded at the knights and they forced Whumpee to his knees in front of Whumper. Whumpee swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to still his racing heart.

“Where have you been, boy?” There was no affection in the question. No love or concern. Simply irritation for having caused so much trouble to be found.

Whumpee didn’t answer.

Whumper’s eyes flickered to Kaeto. “He was deep in the Hollows, your majesty. Hiding amongst the common folk.”

“That is where he belongs after all,” a snide voice interjected from behind. Whumper’s eldest son. In all respects Whumper’s spiritual successor, every bit as cruel, sadistic and evil as his father. And yet, the gods bestowed Whumpee with Whumper’s inheritance. “Isn’t that right, bastard?”

“A coward too,” another voice crooned, this time high pitched and beautiful, like a song floating through the throne room. Whumper’s eldest daughter added.

“Enough,” Whumper grumbled to his children who bowed their heads to him.

“Of course, Father.”

Whumpee rolled his eyes. Whumper snapped his attention back to him and Whumpee had to stop himself from swallowing. He couldn’t show fear. Nor any sort of emotion. Not in this den of vipers.

“Well boy?” Whumper demanded. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Nothing.”

Whumper’s eyes narrowed. He shifted in his throne, sitting up straighter. “I assume that you knew I wanted you home before your twenty-first birthday.”

It wasn’t a question. Whumpee shrugged. “Lost track of time.”

“You arrogant little cunt,” Eldest said, and before Whumpee could reply, Eldest was in front of him. Whumpee’s eyes widened only slightly at his brother’s speed as Eldest lifted his hand to strike him. A hand caught Eldest’s wrist before he could make impact. Eldest whimpered as Whumpee’s saviour dragged him away from Whumpee.

To Whumpee’s surprise it was Whumper himself. “He was disrespecting you, father.”

“I know that,” Whumper growled low. “But discipline of any and all of my unruly children remains with me, boy.”

A thinly veiled threat. Whumpee couldn’t help the satisfied smile that graced his lips when Eldest shot a glare at him.

Whumper squeezed Eldest’s wrist and slammed it back in his chest. Eldest gasped, cradling the injury as he turned back to his sister. “Leave,” Whumper ordered, and the two did, staring murderously at Whumpee as they left.

Whumpee smirked then at Whumper. “When I inherit your crown, will I be able to discipline all your unruly children?”

A slap echoed through the throne room as Whumpee’s head whipped to the side. After a pause of registering he was slapped, did Whumpee feel the coppery tang of blood in his mouth from the smack.

“Petulant child. If you didn’t have a trace of my power when you were born I would have drowned you in the river.”

Whumpee curled his lip back revealing blood stained teeth. “Maybe you should have. It would have saved you a lot of headaches.”

Whumper glared down his nose at Whumpee before his lips broke into a cold, hungry smile. “You have the nerves for the power, at least.”

Whumpee blinked at the praise. His mind going back to how Eldest whimpered and balked at his father’s discipline.

Whumper clapped a hand on Whumpee’s shoulder. “But we both know violence won’t make you accept my legacy, so Kaeto and I came up with a different means to get you in line.”

Whumpee bristled at the mention of the cat-like courtier, who was more subtly sadistic than his father. Whumper’s eyes went over Whumpee’s head to Kaeto behind him.

“You did bring her?” Whumpee stiffened under his father’s hand.

“Of course, Whumper.”

His heart thundered against his chest as Whumper nodded. “Bring her in.”

Whumpee didn’t loose a breath, he didn’t dare a door to the side of the throne room opened. Whumpee turned his head and his heart dropped into a pit of his stomach. He jerked to his feet but Whumper’s hand pressed him back to the ground with ease.

Caretaker was being escorted in by two dark knights on either side of her, dragging her in, a cloth tied tightly around her mouth cut into her cheeks that Whumpee knew would leave bruises as she fought and kicked. Blood streamed down her hairline and from her nose and Whumpee shot up again but he didn’t get further than before, his knees cracked against the marble with such force he thought they would have shattered.

When Caretaker’s eyes met Whumpee’s she stopped walking, but the knights continued to drag her. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Whumpee, then Whumper then Kaeto and she started screaming profanities at Kaeto as she was dragged closer and closer.

“What’re you— how did you—” Whumpee stammered, his head twisting to see Kaeto leaning on his cane, cat-like eyes bright with satisfaction. “You’re a bastard, Kaeto!”

Whumpee would have lunged at him if he could, but Kaeto just smiled. “Not as much as you, darling boy.”

Whumpee turned back to Whumper, eyes pleading. “She has nothing to do with this! Let her go.”

Whumper put a hand under Whumpee’s chin and tilted his head up further until Whumpee’s neck was strained. “Did you just demand something of me, boy?”

Whumpee’s eyes went to Caretaker as she was dragged up the steps of the dais and wrestled to a kneeling position beside the throne.

“Please!” Whumpee cried. “Please, just… just let her go.”

Whumper tilted his head. His eyes darkened. “And what do I get in return?”

Whumpee’s heart hammered against his throat, his mind racing as he stared at Caretaker who kept trying to push herself to her feet in vain. The knights stood on each side of her, keeping her down.

Whumper let go of Whumpee and stepped back, half turned and walked up the steps to his throne. Whumpee lunged but two gauntleted hands grabbed each of his upper arms and restrained him, keeping him down too.

“The way I see it,” Whumper continued, walking over to Caretaker who glared up at him without fear. God. Whumpee’s heart jumped into his throat as Whumper reached a hand to Caretaker’s hair and stroked her head like a pet. “Either you accept my inheritance, take your place as the next ruler of this kingdom and all that comes with it, or I’ll be forced to incentivise you further.”

Caretaker’s eyes shot to Whumpee’s in shock. He never told her who he was, what he was to Whumper. He wanted to have a normal life with her. To settle down with her. Not… not this.

God, not this.

Whumper sat in his throne again, his hand drifting to the nape of Caretaker’s neck and pinching it. Caretaker cried out, struggling to get away but with her hands tied and the knights holding her down she couldn’t move an inch and neither could Whumpee.

“Come on, boy,” Kaeto crooned, sitting on the steps of the dais now. “Don’t force us to bless this mortal with our gifts.”

Whumpee’s eyes widened. “What?” He whispered.

Whumper smiled coldly at Whumpee. “One of you will be turned today, Whumpee. It’s your decision who that will be.”

Whumpee looked at Caretaker. Caretaker… who smiled at him with so much happiness and joy. Who taught him how to hunt for the stewing kind of mushrooms in the woods. Who taught him about the simple joys in life. Who opened herself up to him, her body to him under the stars by the lake. Who’s eyes twinkled with mischief when she was about to kiss him.

Caretaker who was so full of life.

He wouldn’t let them dull that sparkle in her eyes. In her heart. In her soul.

Caretaker flinched, as if she heard his thoughts. Then her struggles became more forceful and violent.

“Nngh! Nngh! ‘Umpee nngh!”

Kaeto’s eyes gleamed. “You’re doing the right thing, lad.”

“You better fucking watch yourself when I inherit his legacy, Kaeto,” Whumpee growled, struggling against the arms holding him.

“I sleep with one eye open every night, child.” Kaeto purred.

Whumpee turned his glare to Whumper then. “She goes free before we complete the rite.”

Whumper stroked Caretaker’s hair again. “I’m afraid she is the only thing that will ensure you keep your word.”

Whumpee swallowed. “But… when I— she’s human.”

Whumper smiled a rotten smile at him. “From what I’ve heard you two have been intimate already,” Whumper said, and Caretaker’s face flushed the same lethal red as Whumpee’s. “There’s nothing more intimate than being your first drink as a vampire, son.”

Caretaker stiffened. Whumpee turned his head to her, because he had to. He had to see her shivering, trembling as she looked at him now. Like he was a monster. It’s what he would be after all this was over. Just like his siblings. Just like his father and Kaeto.

“I don’t want to feed on her,” Whumpee said, his voice strained. “I’ll only agree to the rite if you bring me other humans to feed on. If you guarantee me her safety. That no harm will come to her.”

Kaeto let out an exaggerated sigh. “Wouldn’t you rather she be your queen? Hmm? Rule eternally by your side?”

“No,” Whumpee said a little too harshly. He turned to Caretaker. “I mean… I wish I could make you my wife, and guarantee your safety by my side forever, but my family… my siblings, you would always be a target. Always be threatened here. To hurt me they’d hurt you.”

Tears streamed down Caretaker’s face as she wept, sniffing, no longer struggling to escape as he spoke so gently to her.

“I love you,” he said. “I love everything you are. I love how you’re smarter than me, and like to let me know it. I love how you sing when you’re picking herbs in the garden.”

He felt his own tears bubble over his eyes as he continued. “I love how kind you are to strangers. How full of life and love and light, and I can’t dim that by locking you away in a black castle like this.”

She shook her head as she wept audibly now, muffled by the gag. “I can’t do that. Not to you. I love you so much that I’m willing to become a monster so you get to live a long, happy life free from court skulduggery and threats around every corner.”

“Nngh,” she cried in reply.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffed and turned back to his father who watched with interest and something unreadable in his face. “I’ll do it as long as she remains human. Before, during and after the blood rite.”

Whumper’s grin exposed his sharp fangs and Whumpee knew he sealed his fate. “Deal.”

*~*~*~*~*

Tag-list: @whump-in-the-closet :)

[ilikekidsshows]

Honestly I stopped giving ML the benefit of the doubt when it comes to things that say like "oh the execs wanted to change this or they had to add Adrien because of marketing reasons" or whatever other bullshit I see trying to defend the show from a production standpoint. It's like, okay then? Other writers for much, much shorter shows (especially ones that have been cut short cause higher ups said fuck you) managed to do so much better in the time that they had and the constraints that they were given.

TA is also like "oh my show is more popular than Pokemon" and "it was planned all along" and "we've given all the hints in the episode you just have to look" so why shouldn't I judge his work based on what is presented in the show and not in the background irl? If it was "planned all along" then your planning sucks. If I have to look through the retcon riddled episodes to find this supposed hint that is only "confirmed" via a twitter post then it's shit writing. If the studio is asking you to do things then find a creative way to make it good, connected to the plot, and enjoyable to watch like all the other childrens' tv show writers did, otherwise you're a shit writer.

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Very good point. I’m not buying the excuses Tommy the Clown is trying to feed people because his inconsistency makes it obvious he’s just lying to make himself look good, but, even if this was all true, he and his team would suck as writers for not getting the limits to work for them at all. As I said, the team behind Digimon Tamers had possibly the most restrictions of any Digimon writing team and managed to create such a good series that it's considered the best of Digimon by parts of the fandom. Tommy the Clown lies about everything.

He’s also constantly whining about what other people are making, despite also whining about how no one should be allowed to criticize him. He whines about being compared to the best selling media franchise in the world, how it doesn’t matter if Miraculous is more popular than Pokémon, when he also called Pokémon “dog fights” because someone dared to ask him what kinds of Pokémon the characters would use. Like, he was the one who started it. It’s so obvious he’s just jealous of Pokémon, or any other movie or show, because why else does he constantly need to bring up other stuff other people have made? It’s so pathetically insecure.

Speaking of Pokémon, Pokéani actually ended, like, almost two years ago, and, like, Ash did it, he’s finally the Pokémon master and everything, there was no cop out of someone else handing him the title like Marinette was just handed a relationship with Adrien, and there was no last minute whiff on the finish line where Ash gives up in the middle of fighting the final boss. In comparison to possibly the worst-received season of Pokémon, where Ash still actually accomplishes his main goal in the series, what has Marinette actually accomplished?

These writers can’t even properly write the character they supposedly love and the executives adore. Marinette is supposed to be a great, aspiring fashion designer with a passion for fighting games but how often does she engage in these activities instead of obsessing over Adrien in some way? How often does she engage in any activities without it being some means of getting with or spending time with Adrien? With such a pathetic showing of character utility for their main character, of course they couldn’t work with a character they are utterly unmotivated to utilize.

Miraculous is the laziest show I've ever had the misfortune of fixating on. Even I have more passion for what this show could achieve than the people whose literal brain child it is, even after all my affection for it has turned into resentment.

[spade-riddles]

Anonymous said:

Gosh I have so much to say about this, but first I think it’s instructive to look at the masters heist timeline of 2019:

June 15: Taylor’s surprise Stonewall performance. June 17: Taylor releases the YNTCD video, further increasing speculation about a coming out. June 20: BMR shareholders, including Scott Swift, are told there will be an official shareholders meeting on June 25. June 24: the Joshlie second wedding occurs in Wyoming. Scooter and Yael attend, while Taylor does NOT show up to the party. This fuels continued speculation that she and Karlie are feuding. It’s important to note here that at this point, Scooter Braun already knows he is purchasing Taylor’s masters. June 25: BMR informs its shareholders of the impending sale of the label and its assets to Ithaca holdings. They have 3 days to go over the details and decide their votes. June 28: Karlie posts *sips tea* and Taylor posts “Friday calm,” insinuating that the coming out is still on. On the same day, BMR shareholders vote to confirm the label’s sale to Ithaca Holdings. June 29: Taylor receives a message from Scott Borchetta informing her of the sale of her masters. This happens while she’s flying home to NYC (presumably for pride). June 30: Tay skips pride and chooses violence. (We gather here, we line up weeping in a sunlit room, and if I’m on fire you’ll be made of ashes too —> her team deciding to drop the CO and go to war for her masters) July 3: Ash Avignon (and later Clare Winter) likes a Perez Hilton tweet claiming Taylor and Karlie are feuding is bc Karlie was telling things about Taylor’s life and career to Scooter. (I talk shit with my friends, it’s like I’m wasting your honor) July 22: a blind item is released saying Yael Braun publicly called Taylor a c*nt and a d*ke at a presidential fundraiser (lock broken, slur spoken, wound open, game token, I didn’t know you were keeping count).

During July, Karlie was also making some posts insinuating Kaylor was struggling but still very much in touch (boxing gloves, out of the blue, wearing a cold shoulder top, randomly taking a rare social media break in late July/early Aug).

Looking at this timeline, it makes one wonder if Scott and Scooter planned the masters heist for the specific purpose of keeping Taylor in the closet, believing that her coming out would tank the value of Taylor’s masters. They assumed (rightly) that she’d pivot her plans when her life���s work was threatened.

Re: the Kaylor feud, depending on how you interpret these events and the lyrics Taylor has written about The Great War, you could think one of two diff scenarios happened:

1) Taylor really did think Karlie betrayed her for a time, even though that wasn’t the case (got the *sense* I’d been betrayed // telling me to punish you for things you never did). The reality is, even if Karlie knew nothing about the masters heist, she was partying with Scooter and Yael the very same weekend he already knew he’d made a deal with Scott Borchetta for Taylor’s masters. This increased Taylor’s sense of distrust and perhaps put a temporary rift between them (you knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart, but what you did was just as dark.) 2) Taylor and Karlie were mostly fine but constructed the feud narrative (tore your banners down, took the battle underground) to keep the public’s eyes off of them while Taylor created a battle plan on the masters.

Either way, we know Ash and Claire were used to push the Kaylor feud narrative. Being non-celebrities, they are often used to sell the “real” story to Swifties. Them liking the Perez tweet was the first time anyone on Team Taylor had confirmed a rift between Kaylor.

We know from Taylor’s lyrics that Karlie never actually betrayed her:

-telling me to punish you for things you never did

-looked up at me with honor and truth

-my hand was the one you reached for all throughout the great war

-it’s like I’m wasting your honor

-your integrity makes me seem small

-put you in jail for something you didn’t do

-hey it’s all me in my head, I’m the one who burned us down

-I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked

-I can’t make it go away by making you the villain

-you would break your back to make me break a smile

-dreams of your hair and your stare and your sense of belief in the good in the world, you once believed in me

-dark side, I search for your dark side

I think we can glean from these lyrics that Taylor perhaps regrets her rash decision to paint Karlie as the bad guy. Yet it also stands that the feud has given them cover to live their life under the radar.

Karlie coming to Eras tour was a really interesting shift in the narrative. But even more notably, Taylor herself has never acknowledged it. We can conclude that leaving it open ended is serving Taylor in some way. Perhaps allowing her to have her cake and eat it too (Karlie being there to support Taylor for the Eras movie filming and the announcement of 1989TV, but Taylor still not acknowledging Karlie publicly).