#shading with only one color ON one color is different i suppose?

[unicornsaures]

the linart looked like shit so i took the sketch and rolled with it. If you see anything a bit off, no you dont

lams dancing <3 >>>>

[ladydragonkiller]

It's funny how yarn has such a knack for being accidentally collected. Somehow, my yarn stash is always growing.

How is Apollo? I hope he enjoys the sunbeam. It sounds nice and warm.

My favorite tree is the beech, or maybe the sugar maple. They commonly grow in forests together, anyway. The woods near my childhood home was a beech-maple forest, and the one near my grandparents too. Plus, they're gorgeous in the fall, and they're a lovely green in the spring.

What's your favorite color? You can go into detail describing it, if you'd like. (Perhaps it's one of my goals to get you monologuing.)

Best wishes,

M. Cowboy

Yarn falls right in the trap of beautiful, useful (to keep hands busy), and expensive (depending on what you get). I need to rework one of my current projects, hit a snag (figurative) in it a while back and haven't gotten back into the rhythm of it yet.

Apollo is doing well! He missed me and my siblings over the weekend, as we were out of town, and was very happy to see us back last night. Unfortunately it's quite dreary out today, so he isn't in as high spirits as he is when it's sunny and lovely out, but last I saw he was taking a snoozle on the couch. Honestly, I'm a bit jealous.

Those are both lovely trees! I think my family used to have a sugar maple in our front yard, but it got cut down by the city years ago. Now there's only an indent where the stump used to be :(

It's hard to pick a favorite color, as there are so many pretty ones in the world. However, I can pick a favorite color category. In the past, this used to be jewel-toned purples, blues, and greens, the colors that populate a peacock's tail or the ocean's deep.

Nowadays, I find myself drawn towards warmer colors. Oranges, yellows, browns, the colors that put me in mind of sunflowers or baked breads or healthy dirt or the flash of a butterfly's wing. I especially like a yellow that's right on the cusp of orange. Lemon or daffodil yellows are all well and good, but a shade that's golden and fiery and alive is my favorite.

Because of the delicate nature of oranges (not that it's a delicate color, but that many shades of orange could be instead classified as a red or a brown or a yellow with a half-convincing argument), I think that this particular shade pushes the category of orange into the spot of my favorite color.

Of course, I still very much enjoy purples and blues and greens and pinks and all those as well, but this?

This feels like home to me, nowadays.

What's your favorite color?

[drefear]

Imagine reader artist, who loves to draw Miguel. And the other day she's just drawing naked Miguel's body. He saw it and just smirks and say: "I've got bigger than that" or "I could show/pose for accuracy"

TW: raunchy smut, Dom!miguel, fem reader, smut with no plot.

A/N: I wrote half of this while at work and a little drunk. So here ya go. Also currently in the process of writing a part two.

Miguel’s face filled your sketchbook, his back in his spider suit, his mask, every angle you could find him at. You often sat in his office for hours while he did reports, sketching him and drawing him. You loved using different mediums and colors, giving him new features and styles. You specifically loved practicing drawing his broad body and sculpted as-

Ahem. Legs.

Yes, ok, fine, you had a small crush on your boss, whatever, no big deal.

You would purposefully finish all of your work as fast as possible so you could sit back and draw him. And because you weren’t loud or annoying, and everything was always done on time and orderly, he let you.

But one mission in particular made him stressed out, and as you watched him filling out data about the anomaly he’d just captured, he glitched his suit down his torso and injected himself with that mysterious green liquid, entrancing you for those glorious few seconds.

It was very obvious he had a nice body, duh. But you never let your mind go too far in imagining him out of his suit, scared to go into a territory you couldn’t back out of.

And now you did, drawing his torso and pecks, shading his abs, and this got you curious about more.

Lower.

Biting your lip, you sat in the cafeteria a few days later. You purposefully sat with your back to a wall, making sure no one could sneak up on you and see what you were drawing, as you drew him laying down. His arms splayed behind his head, face relaxed, as you defined his leg muscles. As you finished the piece of art, the only area you’d avoided was his groin.

And now you stared at the empty area of art, knee bouncing from anxiety about how you were supposed to draw this. You had no reference for him. Yes, you’d seen dicks before, obviously. You lived in a universe with unrestricted internet access, so it’s not like you’d never been around the block, but here you were, blushing like a 15 year old just because of a dick.

Drawing and then erasing and drawing, you repeated the process a few times before you heard someone click their tongue in front of you. You’d been so consumed by what you were doing, you didn’t even feel your spider senses or hear them come close.

Miguel stood with an eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips, eyeing you curiously. “Why are you so jumpy?” He asked and you snatched the book in front of you to your chest, stuttering some bullshit answer about too much caffeine. He just nodded and continued giving you a new order.

You got up from your seat and moved to follow him to his cold, dark lair area. As you were about to step onto his platform, you tripped and your hands flew out to stabilize your fall. As you did, the notebook flew across the floor and slid as your vision blurred from how fast you’d collapsed, getting up slowly and rolling your shoulders. You reached to where the sketch book had fallen, but it was no longer there.

No.

NO.

It was between his fingers, as he flipped through the pages slowly, eyeing your work with his brows furrowed, focused. You jumped towards him and he just turned his back, making you feel like you ran into a wall. You reached around him and he webbed your wrist to the table beside you, still not tearing his eyes from your work.

“Stop, that’s private! Give it back!” You shouted and he rolled his eyes briefly.

“It’s all drawings of me, I think I’m allowed to see-“ and his words stopped as he flipped to the newest page.

The nude drawing of him.

You gulped as his expression became unreadable, stoic, and your eyes flashed between the art and him. “I-I was just practicing forms and poses-“

“It’s… inaccurate.” He spoke lowly before your eyes blinked for a moment, confused.

“What do you mean?”

He walked to you and stood tall, bending down slightly to stare directly into your eyes. His mouth turned up at the ends and his eyes glittered with something you’d never seen in him before.

Turning the book back to you and showing you your own drawing, he smirked deeper.

“I’m much bigger.” His eyes were almost challenging you, making your blood run ice cold, and you felt his hands yank your body against his. “Do you want to see for reference?”

And then his watch made a loud sound, Lyla popping up to explain some anomaly on earth number whatever. He groaned and turned to walk out. “I’ll be back once this is done. Don’t go anywhere because When I do return, we’re continuing where we left off.”

Then he was gone and you stood, mouth agape from the whole exchange. You thought it might take a while for him to capture this anomaly, so You’d decided to go back to your own universe in preparation, showering and fixing yourself up. You bit your nail nervously as you thought about it all. Was he serious? No way, right…?

As you stood in the bathroom mirror, the sound of a portal opening cut through your mind like a knife, making your body rush into your living room. You gripped the towel tight around your torso as you saw Miguel walk out of the colorful dimension behind him and into yours. The portal closed and with that, his mask disintegrated so you could see his face. A bit tired, he still had a less-than-enthusiastic expression on.

“I thought I told you not to go anywhere.” He repeated and you stood stuff as a board, now a bit scared. He took slow, calculated steps towards you as your head tilted back to continue watching him. “Inaccurate and disobedient. I have a lot to teach you, don’t I?” His index finger hooked under your chin as he smirked and grabbed your hand with his free one, pulling you into your bathroom. He looked around for a second before hitting a button on his watch and letting the fabric disappear.

You bit your lip as your eyes took full advantage of his exposed skin. “You- it-“

“Yeah. I know.” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around, bending you over your counter with your hand breached against your back. “Now I want you to really study how I fuck you, so that you get a good look at how big I am, and how easy I can maneuver this body.” He whispered into your damp hair and pushed down, then ripping the towel away and throwing it out of the bathroom completely.

His eyes stared down at your weeping cunt and he licked his lips. “I’ll be tasting you another time. Today, I want you to really feel my size.” He was cocky, and he had a right to be. His dick was huge, almost alarmingly big.

The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you clenched your jaw. “It’s gonna hurt, but I’ll go slow. That way you can feel good and still learn.” He cooed in a teasing tone and your eyes found his in the mirror, watching intently as he began to push into you. The sudden width he was stretching you to was mind numbing and your knees began to buckle, but he just held you up with one hand, the other still guiding himself into you.

“Coño, your sucking me in so nicely, might not even need to slow down.” He spoke and your eyes were rolling back from his words, to which you snapped out of once his hand that was holding you up held your face harshly towards the mirror. “No slacking, little girl. You better keep your eyes on my cock.”

Halfway inside, and you were already fluttering around him, on the verge of orgasm. “That’s it, sucia, cum on my cock. It’ll be the first time of many.” You shivered at his words, feeling him sink in further and immediately orgasming. The rolls of pleasure washing through you made him grunt as his hips couldn’t help but rut into you harshly. The lack of prep had you feeling everything he was giving you, hyper aware of your insides wrapping around him.

“Mm, wanna fuck me back? Grind back onto my cock? Paciencia, Nena.” He instructed as you kept trying to get him in further. Wrapping a hand around your torso, he tweeked at your nipples and made you gasp from the sensation. “That’s it,” he mumbled.

Finally, smirked, he chuckled darkly as you tried once more to thrust backwards. “Fine, you asked for it.” He met your eyes in the mirror, now blood red and swirling with the threat as he snapped his hips forward and forced the rest of him into you, making you gargle out a strained sound in shock and pleasure. The pain was beautiful, and began to subside quickly as you felt him twitch. He hit every spot and more, feeling new depths and points of pleasure.

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes as he started a slightly faster pace. Your body jiggled from the movements and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled your apartment, your mouth hanging open as your eyes never left were his dick was buried into you. He smiled, enjoying the way you watched his cock disappear into you over and over, and you felt the pressure building once more. How he bullied your cunt and grinned while doing it made you burst, tears breaking free and a scream ripping through you as your pussy squeezed him.

“Fuck, so tight.” He groaned, head now falling back and he kept going, beginning to chase his own high. Your mind had shut off now, fucked practically stupid on his cock and he rocking into you mercilessly. His speed was unmatched and he moved to pick up your hips to meet his, closing the gap your height difference had created, and finally having him slam into you until his hips met your ass, making you choke on your own oxygen from the absolute brutal beating he was giving your cervix.

He slid one hand to the back of your neck and pressed you further into the counter top of your sink, forcing your pert nipples to meet the cold marble and you cried out more, barely able to push back against him now as you were trapped between his body and your bathroom’s confinements with only your top toes touching the floor. Your face was streaked with tears as he grunted and let out ragged breaths.

“The perfect little pussy, so perfect for my cock. You can take it, little artist. You wanted to draw my cock so badly, now you have the perfect image to do it. Fucked deep inside of you. Draw us like this for me, yeah? I wanna see it everyday. Or should I just fuck you every day instead?” His words tumbled from his mouth like an avalanche and you could feel his cock about to burst, making you teeter over that cliff as well. “That’s it, strangle my cock. Cum all over me, niña, paint me with your cute cunt.” He demanded and you obliged, feeling a shooting electric sensation rip out of you. Suddenly, you were both a bit wet between the thighs and he was mesmerized by what he saw. Your juices squirt all over him and he came instantly after seeing that, pounding into you as far as he could and forcing his cum the deepest it could be inside of you.

Both of you were unmoving as you caught your breath, a layer of sweat covering you both as you stared at each other in the mirror. No words could describe what had just happened and Miguel smiled once more, which prompted you to ask.

“What?”

“You need to get a mirror by your bed. Because I want to do this to you every day.” He watched your eyes widen in the mirror in front of you both as he licked your neck from behind and sinking his fangs into your soft skin, jutting his hips once more and making you realize he was still hard.

“For art purposes.”

Part two is out!

[hellish-sunsets]

Lucifer red string of fate soulmate au? Like, maybe he and Lilith originally got together despite the strings because Lucifers was Grey or something at the time; but eventually his turns bright red because turns out his soulmate was mortal and is now a sinner so they can actually be together? I think it would be cute since he's so depressed with Lilith leaving him; now he has the sparkle of hope that he can find the missing piece to his puzzle 😊 if you do end up writing this request could it be super fluffy??? (Also bonus points if Sinner Reader is not only shorter then him but also super kind hearted and sweet!)

I'm a sucker for soulmate AU's! This one got a bit away from me, I'll probably have to make a part two, but for now here's what I got!

Gray Dyed Red

Word Count: 1,912

-------------------------

The strings existed since the beginning of… well, existence. Every being had one tied to their middle finger, or the closest they had to one for the more animalistic ones. No one could see them but the owner of the string, thin things that could never tangle or be broken, either red or gray. And at the end of that string was supposed to be your soulmate. Well, as long as it was red. 

Lucifer’s had always been gray. 

And yeah, it bothered him at first, but he was quick to push aside and keep himself busy with creating with the other angels. He would lose himself in his work. But then, none of his ideas were good enough. They were too… different. He just wanted to make something he could be proud of. 

He was only allowed to watch when Adam and Lillith were made. 

Watching wasn’t as much fun, but he could still keep himself distracted. He smiled down at them as they started their lives on the earth they were given. 

Then they fell apart. He didn’t understand why. Surely the first man and woman would be soulmates, right? But no, they didn’t fit well at all. They’re relationship was a constant fight of who was in charge. He decided he had to help somehow, and in the process fell in love with Lillith. She told him her string was gray, and he thought that maybe they could make it work. They loved and supported each other! What did it matter if they weren’t soulmates?

Even after their fall to hell, they spent thousands of years in each other's arms. 

Then she left.

No word, no note, just an empty bed and an empty castle. 

And he knew he was falling apart, shunning the rest of the world, not even reaching out to Charlie anymore, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He just wanted a distraction, something to put his mind on that wasn’t his own failures. 

The gray string of his was just a reminder that there was no one for him, not even the woman he gave all his existence to. 

But it was strange. All these thousands of years, it had never changed color before. 

He didn’t even notice at first, couldn’t pinpoint when exactly it happened. He was in bed, had probably been there far too long. He physically couldn’t sleep anymore, so he needed to distract himself with something else. Maybe he could make an actually good rubber duck today. He should probably shower first, or clean himself in some way. Showers were faster so they usually won out. Though, they didn’t usually end up being faster once he gets in there. 

Whatever, he just needed to get up, right?

With a groan, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, stretching his arms over his head. He avoided staring at the empty side of the bed, shoving the covers off to head for the bathroom, the wood floors cold against his feet. 

He yawned as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. That’s when he saw it, a glint of red. He frowned and lowered his hand to stare, wondering what he had seen. It couldn’t have been his eyes, the shade wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t his cheeks. He went to scratch his chin but froze with his hand halfway up. 

The string was red, deep and bright and unlike anything he had seen before. He looked down at his hand with wide eyes, not quite comprehending what it meant, but for some reason his heart seemed to flip in his chest. That was strange…

So… he had a soulmate now? How? When? Were they just made, or perhaps they were born somewhere? Were they from Earth? Heaven? Hell? Could he find them now? Maybe it turned because they just entered hell. But then, how good of a person could they be if they were down here with the sinners, perhaps a sinner themself? Was that even the type of person he wanted to interact with? But he had seen so many find their soulmates on the other end of their string and, good person or not, they were always perfect for eachother.

His heart does another flip in his chest.

He forces himself to undress and get in the shower, but his mind kept racing, going over the same questions over and over again.

His shower was much shorter than usual. He wanted to get out as soon as possible.

It had been a very long time since he bothered walking or flying through the city. He didn’t much like the sights or the people. Lilith was the one who dealt with them. Every single one of those sinners was just a reminder of what he had done, a never ending punishment. He preferred avoiding it all together. The last thing he ever wanted was to see how his gift of free will was abused by so many.

But that didn’t matter now. As much as he hated the people and the crowds, he was going to follow this stupid string until he found it’s end. 

—-------------------------

A few days passed. 

Pentagram city couldn’t be that big, and yet here he was, still searching. He did rest. Occasionally. Sometimes. Probably not enough. The only reason he did rest as much as he did was… well, he wanted to be at his best when he did finally find the end of his string. He wanted to make a good impression!

He narrowed it down to the edge of the city, a more rundown section where new sinners tended to congregate.

So they had to be new to hell. That's why his string suddenly changed color. They must have been a human who recently died and manifested here. He… wasn’t sure how he felt about it. What if she was just as awful as every other sinner? He feared that the most, that he was destined for some terrible person, that he didn’t deserve someone actually nice…

His string went straight down to an alley below. He could avoid the crowd, thank God. He swept down into the alley, feet landing with a quiet clack against the cracked concrete. He withdrew his wings, glancing around his filthy surroundings with a scowl of disgust. Surely there wasn’t anyone lounging in the muck here, right. But no, there was someone here, a sinner in tattered clothes, standing with their back pressed against the brick wall, head bowed as they took deep breaths, like they were calming themself down from something. 

A frown tugged at his lips. He glanced down at his hand, eyes tracing the vibrant red string towards this sinner, the other end tied around their finger.

It was them. 

He wasn’t entirely sure when he started walking towards them, just knew when his hand clasped around theirs. They jumped, trying to pull away at the sudden contact until their eyes met. They almost immediately relaxed, eyes widening with understanding as they gazed down at their clasped hands, then back up into his eyes. It was odd. No one had looked up at him since Charlie was still young.

He was usually better with words. They would normally come so easily to him, even if they may not always be the best or a bit rambling. But for once in his life, he wasn't sure what to say.

“Hi.” They said, smiling up at him ever so sweetly.

“Hey.” He smiled back, a flush rising in his cheeks. “What, um, brings you… here.” He motioned vaguely to the filthy alley with a slight frown, but the smile returned when he looked down at them.

“Ah, you know, just trying to collect myself and not freak out.” They said with her cheery voice, chuckling a little at themself. “I, uh, I never really thought I'd end up down here. I guess I thought sometimes I'd end up in hell, but honestly I just didn't think about it. But it's okay! I think I get it now.”

He tilted his head slightly in confusion, but that giddy smile never did leave his face. “What do you mean? You know why you’re down here?”

They nodded.

“Yep! I'm here to be with you! That must be it!”

Warmth didn’t bloom in his chest like he's felt in other circumstances. No, it was more like being hit by a freight train face first. In an instant he had them in his arms, savoring their surprised giggle as he squeezed them tight, burying his face in their hair. They happily hugged back. 

It could have been only a moment, it could have been hours, but he didn’t care. He didn’t dare let them go until he was sure this wasn't some sort of trick or dream. Only when he was satisfied did he pull away, eyes looking over them intently, committing every contour of their face to memory, every scratch, every scar, those sparkling eyes, that smile sweeter than apple pie. Shit, they really were perfect for him, weren't they? They could confess to murder and he would forgive them instantly.

“My name's Y/N, by the way.” 

Even their name was perfect.

“Lucifer.”

“Like the devil Lucifer?” They didn't even look that perturbed, just curious. He chuckled and gave a little bow. 

“The one and only. Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”

‐—-------------------

It was strange, having someone in his quarters again, sitting in bed with the sound of the shower running in the back. It felt… right. It was proper he wasn’t alone anymore. How things were meant to be. Nice.

He sat up straighter when he heard the shower turn off. A few long minutes passed before she came out, dressed in a simple white sundress he provided. He wasn’t very good at making clothes, he preferred creating animals and things similar, but at the very least it looked like it fit, accentuating her sweet smile. 

He could feel his cheeks heating up, but he ignored it in favor of exaggerating the smile she brought to his face.

She sat on the edge of the bed next to him, running her fingers through the damp strands of her hair.

“Well…” She started, but wasn't really sure what to say, voice drifting off. She stared at her feet, unsure what else to do. 

He tilted his head to the side, just watching her for a moment. He reached out for her, hesitating for a moment before cupping her cheek, guiding her head to turn towards him. He just… he needed to see her eyes again. He needed to be sure she's real and in front of him and this wasn't some sort of trick. 

She smiled at him and leaned into his hand. His heart melted.

“I didn't think I'd ever find my soulmate.” She admitted in a whisper. “My string was always gray before, so I thought…” She trailed off and shrugged. He nodded his understanding.

“Yeah, me too. ‘Sorta assumed I just didn't have one since I wasn't human. I think it's more common for demons and angels to have gray strings.” His brows furrowed in thought, but whatever was running through his mind vanished as she turned her head to kiss the palm of his hand.

“... what do we do now?” She asked.

He gulped and shook his head, gathering his thoughts.

“I suppose I should introduce you to my daughter.”

[leonw4nter]

Hi! I love your works sm and have a silly little idea.. Maybe planning and having a wedding with leon? Like im seeing you in your dress for the first time, choosing flowers, the rings, and having all of your friends/family at your wedding etc? Just little headcannons about it would be super cute!!!

DI!Leon Headcanons on planning + having a wedding…

RE:DI!Leon x F!Reader

Leon was supposed to propose to you during an out-of-the-country trip to Switzerland but unfortunately, he left the ring behind and had to secretly beat himself up over it. One beautiful evening, after you and him had just gotten home from the orchestra, he fished the tiny velvet box from his pocket and got down on one knee, too overcome by nerves to remember the speech he swore he memorized and too much in love to stall the question.

“You’re the last person I’d want to lose and the first person I’d think of growing old with. Y/N, will you marry me?”. In the end, he got the most unforgettable ‘yes’ he’s ever heard from you.

The wedding planning took 12 months, enough time to plan the wedding straight out of your dreams. He made sure to make the occasion magical, ensuring that the wedding is fit for a goddess amongst women (in his humble opinion). The wedding rings you and Leon agreed on were perfect, eager for the day that you two will finally have them on forever and ever, the rings facing wear and tears as you go gray and feeble with him.

Everyone saw your wedding dress before your wedding day– everyone but Leon. As soon as the large doors opened up and revealed you, Leon could no longer stop the tears flowing down his cheeks– you were so beautiful and breathtaking and it was as if veiled light itself was walking down the aisle. He was unable to keep his gaze to the front, head tilting to admire you every second. “You look so beautiful,” he excitedly whispered. “I can’t believe I’m marrying you.”

Since you and him agreed on a wedding color scheme of black, different shades of pink, and varying shades of warm white, the flowers you had for your bridal bouquet also followed that scheme, the flowers being cashmere anemones; white and baby pink tulips; vanda orchids; white limonium flowers, and white mink proteas. Everyone else also wore their dresses and suits in pinks and black; Chris opted for a sleek black turtleneck and blazer with a pink flower pinned to his breast pocket. Most of the women in attendance at your wedding opted to wear pink, with the men opting for black. Everyone was buzzing with excitement in their placements: Rebecca and Claire making joking bets that whoever cries first will pay up; Jill and Hunnigan were talking about how pretty you will look; Ethan and Chris were hyping Leon up since the groom was nervous but nevertheless excited; Piers and Carlos were talking about how good everything looks and how magical the air feels.

When the priest said “you may now kiss the bride”, Leon took a small step closer to you, gently lifting the veil that covered your face. He did everything slowly, as if he wanted to savor the moment and commit every single detail– the sparkle in your eyes, the music in the background, and how everyone and everything else seemed to be a blur of colors except for the glowing bride in front of him. As soon as he removed the veil from your face, he took a few moments to admire you and pepper you with sincere compliments. He placed his left hand on your waist while his right gently cupped your cheek, big hands handling you with so much caution as if you were made of porcelain. He leans in and presses the gentlest, softest, most tender kiss ever, a small spreading on his lips when it really sinks in that he finally gets to call you his wife.

You and Leon had your first dance somewhere private since you wanted it to be a moment only you and him will share so after the first dance, you and him walk back to the reception hand-in-hand with the brightest smiles. The ring looked amazing on both your hands and Leon couldn’t stop to admire your hand. “You’ve got a ring like mine too, you know,” you’d softly tell him. “I know. It looks better with you though,” he’d respond sweetly before kissing the back of your hand. For the bouquet toss, you decided to use an exact replica of your bouquet since you wanted to keep your flowers in your own home; Rebecca ended up catching your bouquet, much to everyone’s surprise. She happily swung it around, showing it off to everyone, before walking with a happy sway of her hips towards her boyfriend Billy, which made Billy chuckle before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

You and Leon left early, waving everyone good night and good bye as you got in the bridal car that would take you to the hotel you were going to stay in. Since Chris was sober and had already volunteered to drive you to the hotel, he also left the party early. As soon as you two were out of the reception, it was immediately all kisses and giggles and I love yous muttered. Chris had to look you two through the rear-view mirror and say “I’m still here. You’ve got a room for all that when we get there.”

Married life won’t be all smooth sailing and conflicts are unavoidable but in facing and resolving those conflicts together, you will discover just how strong your commitment to each other is.

NOTE - TYSMM to the anon that requested this, I know I took long before I finally got to answer it but I hope it was worth the wait (despite this drabble being shorter than usual) <33 Currently craving ramyeon and mushrooms and seafood... naw but eating noodles late at night?? TOP TIER EXPERIENCE. Kinda stressing rn since one of my groupmates can't do their part on our research paper and it's getting on my last nerve BECAUSE I GAVE US SO MUCH TIME GIRLIE PLEASE 😭😭🙏🙏 Anyways, let's hope that I passed my entrance exams and the exams I took last week bc my grades cannot take another beating 🕯️TYSM for reading my fics, I <33333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!

The hanging star divider is made by @benkeibear , the images are colored by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

good morning!! it's @henderdads' birthday!!!! happy happy happy birthday to youuuu cass!!!

The minute Eddie Munson turned 18, he could see it; the only color he would see until he and his soulmate kissed for the first time.

Yellow.

Rays and rays of warm yellow sunshine, the middle light (and middle light only) of the one stoplight in town, one half of their school colors, the dandelions spotted agross the grass between the trailers, the stubborn daffodils that keep reappearing in Ms. Wilson’s garden though she’s long since passed…

The half-toned things he’s told are green, half yellow, half blue, and that he got lucky his soulmate’s favorite color wasn’t black or gray (then he felt glad he’d settled on a different color than either of those by time he was older, he didn’t want to subject his soulmate to more black and white..

After Steve Harrington turns 18, he can see the color of the lipstick his mom wore in their last family portrait, the color of the punch that gets spilled all over Nancy’s shirt at Tina’s halloween party, the stripes and piping on his godforsaken Scoops uniform, the red of his own blood rushing down the drain beneath his feet.

The dark tone puddled beneath Eddie’s limp body in the Upside Down.

The same color splashed onto Dustin’s arms and legs.

Pressing his hands into it to stop it from spreading, to start it flowing again, Steve presses his lips to Eddie’s once…he hasn’t done CPR since he worked at the pool….twice…”C’mon man, don’t leave him like this.”....

The third time is when it happens.

The feeble beat of Eddie’s heart starting again, the push of breath into his lungs, the sudden flood of cool, dark colors around them. 

“Eddie? Eddie! C’mon man, stay with me.”

It looks like it takes a herculean effort to do so, but Eddie’s eyes open. “H–hey, Harrington. Wh–”

“I’m going to pick you up now, Ed,” Steve says, doing just that, tucking Eddie into his chest and starting for the trailer. “El is keeping the gate open for us but we gotta hurry.”

The four of them manage to get him out through the gate and into the RV, this time with Nancy behind the wheel. 

Having to let him go at the doors to the ER is one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, but he manages, Robin telling him over and over again that she’d already called Eddie’s Uncle and that he’d be safe.

While they’re waiting, filthy and exhausted but victorious nonetheless, Nancy says to him: “It’s blue, by the way. The…everything down there has some sort of blue tinge to it.”

Steve doesn’t ask how she knew, just appreciates that he can look at something and she’ll tell him the name of the color. 

The pattern of the chairs is orange and purple, the plant in the corner is green (“All plants are some shade of it for the most part.”), the wallpaper is his favorite though.

“It’s yellow.”

“I guess I know what color Eddie’s been seeing the past few years..” It’s the first and last thing he says until Wayne Munson comes to get them.

“You three need’ta be looked at too. Not jus’ Henderson.”

He leads them back to a room, and Steve recognizes Dr. Owens there waiting for them.

They get looked over, they get cleaned up, and Steve gets a shot of something that’s supposed to help stave off anything those flying rats may have given him.

And for the next week, he stays. 

He and Wayne maintain a constant vigil at Eddie’s bedside. Wayne leaves for his shifts when he has to, Steve is allowed to stay because of his soulmate status, and Eddie wakes up a little more than a week later.

Wayne had left a couple hours ago, so Steve will have to call him at the plant but first: “Steve?” Eddie manages to croak out when his eyes crack open the first time.

“Hey Eds, welcome back to the world of the living.”

Eddie shuts his eyes and huffs a laugh, then cringes, “Still painful as always, I see.”

“Oh yeah? What else do you see?”

Steve watches his brow furrow as he tries to make sense of the question, watches as he opens his eyes again, a bit further this time, and when they widen in amazement as they travel around the room.

“What–? What the hell..?” The heightened beeping of his heart monitor makes Steve feel almost giddy, getting to watch him see this for the first time. “What nurse kissed me while I was out?” He pauses, staring down a painting of colorful wildflowers on the opposite wall before turning back to Steve. “And can they come back so I can get more pain meds?”

Steve chuckles as he stands stiffly from the hospital chair he’d been all but glued to for the last week, reaching over Eddie’s head to press the call button.

“What’s so funny?”

“You, of course.”

“Thank you, I try, but what’d I do this time?”

“It wasn’t a nurse, Eds.”

Eddie blinks at him for a moment, confused, “I don’t quite have the brainpower for riddles, Stevie.”

Steve’s stomach flips at the nickname, “It wasn’t a nurse, it was when we were still in the—down there.” he pauses, feeling suddenly embarrassed. Did Eddie want it to be him? His first assumption was one of the nurses… “Someone had to give you CPR.”

He watches as Eddie scrolls through what he can only assume is a roster of their “Team Vecna”; Nancy? It’s been known that she’s been able to see in full color since she and Jonathan got together. Dustin? Yeah..no. Ro–

“And it wasn’t Robin.” Steve says when he sees Eddie’s lips curl into an ‘R’.

“Then who—”

It dawns on him at the same time the summoned nurse arrives with a new shot of whatever it is he needs.

She leaves with an excited “We’ll call Wayne!”, and Eddie drops his head back to his pillow.

Steve’s stomach twists anxiously. “Eddie?”

“So you’re telling me that the one and only Steve Harrington gave me the kiss of life and also the gift of colorvision, and I wasn’t conscious enough to experience it properly?”

Steve ducks his head, scratching behind his ear nervously. “Uh…yeah…? Sorry Eddi–”

“Can you do it again?”

His head snaps up again, “Huh?”

“And preferably before I lose the battle for my consciousness?”

Eddie’s face is soft and open, a smile quirking the pink of his lips and crinkling those dark eyes of his…Who is Steve to tell him no?

He smiles softly in return and stands.

Leaning forward with his weight braced to one side of Eddie’s head, the other hand coming up to cup his uninjured cheek, Steve kisses him properly for the first time.

The first of many many many more to come.

eeee i hope you liked this little thing!!! i've never written anything w soulmates before!! 🥹 i hope you have the most bestest day today, friend!! 🫶🫶

[runesandramblings]

I Just Want You

Word Count: 1400

Pairings: Fili x reader

Warnings: None

Description: Royal wedding plans begin to take their toll, but there's only one thing you require to make the day perfect.

Requested by anon so I don't have a way to tag you I'm sorry! But I hope you enjoy. 😇

“What do you think, nâtha? The lilies or the orchids?” 

You buried your face in your hands. The pounding against your temples, something that had become a familiar sensation as of late, began to worsen as you tried to piece together any coherent sentence. There were only three words that came to mind, the same three words you’d uttered countless times over the past several weeks. 

“I don’t know.” 

The joy of yours and Fili’s engagement had subsided the moment you’d broken the news to your families. With FIli being the crown prince and heir, there was no way Dis and your mother would let it be a simple affair. Invitations had already been sent out to every corner of Middle Earth, and you’d been occupied from sunup to sundown every day with planning. The dress, the flowers, the food… 

You were from a simple merchant family. The pomp and ceremony of royalty made no sense to you. Where you’d grown up, weddings were a simple affair. Most couples in your small village chose to elope rather than go through the bother of an elaborate ceremony. You’d have been more than happy to do the same. However, your mother and future mother in law had both been quick to dismiss the idea. 

“It’s no matter, dear. We have time to decide.” Your mother pulled several small scraps of fabric, ranging from the purest snow white to the creamier shades of ivory. She laid them out against the table and gestured to each. “Which color do you think for the dress? We’ve got to begin sewing soon if it will be ready in time.” 

Before you had the chance to respond, Dis laid out several different styles of gold and silver fabric beside the scraps your mother had laid down. 

“And what of the trim? You’ve got to decide if you prefer gold accents or silver. But I do suppose that would have an effect on the choice of flowers…” She trailed off, lost in her own world of thought. 

You could feel your pulse radiating against your temples as the migraine that had been forming worsened. This was the issue exactly. It wasn’t just selecting a dress. It was selecting a type of fabric, a trim, lace… And that had to coordinate with the flowers or else…

Or else what, exactly? Would the world cease to exist if the flowers and trim didn’t go together? Would Mahal himself descend from the sky if the food and the wine didn’t pair perfectly? 

You looked from where you sat at the head of the long, carved wood table to the opposite end. Fili sat on his own, silently working through a stack of parchments Thorin had given him. He hadn’t been overly involved in the plans, as your mothers had taken over almost immediately. But you’d expressed to him how stressful the process had been, and he’d decided to come sit with you for moral support. He met your gaze and gave you a gentle smile. It sent butterflies through your stomach, as it always did. He was all you needed, truly. You could get married in the same, tattered old dress he’d met you in carrying a bouquet of wildflowers for all you cared. As long as he was there, it was all you required.

“(Y/N)?” 

Your mother’s voice brought you back to the less desirable reality. She and Dis were both staring at you expectantly, the colored swatches of cloth still spread out across the table in front of you. 

“Silver or gold-”

“First, she has to decide on a shade of white. Which shade do you prefer, (Y/N)?” 

“Well it might help to decide on the accent first, then she can pick a white that goes with that.” 

As Dis and your mother began speaking over each other you buried your face in your hands once again. The pounding against your temples became rhythmic, a steady thump that seemed to grow louder and louder as their voices overlapped. You felt as though you might go mad if the pounding and the questions didn't stop soon.

“(Y/N)-” Dis started. 

“I don’t know!” You cried again, finally raising your head to look at the two of them. “I don’t know, okay? And I don’t care. Just pick a color. Whatever you both want.” 

You flung yourself back in the chair, crossing your arms over your chest. It was unlike you to have such an outburst, but you were exhausted. There were too many questions, too many decisions. You’d be more than happy for them to make the choices and just tell you when and where to show up on the day of. 

“And what do you want, amrâlimê?” 

The three of you turned your attention to the end of the table as Fili piped up. He’d laid his parchments to the side. His eyes were not on either of your mothers, but on you. You could see the genuine concern etched in the lines that furrowed between his brows. He knew the planning had begun to take a toll, and now he was able to see the full amount of stress that you were under. 

You felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes. 

“I just want you.” You said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Your mothers exchanged shameful glances across the table, finally seeming to realize just how much they’d piled on you at once. FIli’s expression softened as he continued to look at you, his eyes never breaking away to look at anyone else in the room.

“Could you leave us for a moment?” He asked. 

Dis and your mother stood silently, collecting the fabric and other wedding items they’d strewn across the table. You felt Dis place a hand apologetically on your shoulder as she followed your mother from the room. 

Once they’d gone Fili’s smile widened. He extended his hand to you, gesturing for you to come join him at the end of the table. You stood and quickly walked around to where he sat. Once you were within his arm’s reach he grabbed you, pulling you down by your waist and plopping you into his lap. As soon as your legs touched his he stretched his face up to your neck, peppering light kisses up and down your collarbones. You giggled as his mustache braids tickled the exposed skin of your neck, his lips working their way up to plant kisses along your cheeks. He finally found your mouth and pressed his delicately against yours, making it the gentlest and sweetest kiss of them all. 

You felt a contented sigh escape your lips as he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. You rested your chin on top of his head as your fingers began to slowly brush through his hair, careful as always not to disturb his perfectly placed braids. The feeling of his arms wrapped snugly around your waist had already alleviated the nervous pit in your stomach, and you wondered how it could have only been moments ago that you were stressed to the point of breaking down in tears. He was your safe place, your calm within the storm. 

“We don’t have to make it into a spectacle, you know.” He murmured into the collar of your dress. “It can just be the two of us, whenever and wherever you want.” 

“We can’t.” You said, wistfully. If only it were that simple. 

“And who says so?” 

“You’re the prince-”

“To hell with that.” He said, pulling back just enough to look up at you. “Thorin’s already given his blessing for us to skip the whole affair.” 

“But our mothers-”

“To hell with them too.” His expression quickly changed from confidence to one of fear as he looked over his shoulder. “Don’t tell them I said that.” 

You giggled again, pulling him closer to you as he nuzzled his face into your neck once more. 

“Amrâlimê, I will go get Balin right now and have him perform the ceremony in this very room.” He continued. “I don’t need the flowers or the food or the party. I just want you, too.” 

You pulled back again, just enough to look down into his eyes. He was smiling up at you, his eyes sparkling with the same joy as they had the first day you met. He was all you needed, now and forever. 

“I think that sounds absolutely perfect.” You said, brushing back a few loosened strands of his golden hair. “On one condition.”

He looked at you expectantly as you continued. 

“You have to tell our mothers.”

nâtha - daughter

amrâlimê - my love

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the sun

Next chapter

a/n not what I originally wanted to put out but today this hit my head so a little something to smooth us in. AND This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨🤍

summary: an arrival of a new sibling get a bit too overwhelming for Azriel's youngest daughter.

warning: past trauma related to wing clipping.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Zofie's pov:

She was ecstatic. Mother knew she had told every soul that was willing to listen to her about how she was going to become a sister. An older sister. How happy she was to no longer be the youngest. To be able to pull the same proud older sibling card, the same one that Axel used when Zofie had achieved even the smallest of things. It was easy to love like that because all she had known ever since she had met you and ever since she had seen Azriel was love. She knew because that feeling was always fuzzy. Always somewhat pink with tints of purple. It grew different in the saturation of colors, but it was always so delicate.

She doted over the idea of another element unifying you all as a family. Yes, she was content when it was just you four. Always had been. Even back in the sanctuary. There was something that told her that this was the endgame. That you all were always meant to find one another. Then Granny took them in for almost a month. Zofie still remembered how confused she had been when you and Azriel hadn't shown up the next morning. "Your parents are mates; they accepted the bond and need a bit of time... till it... well... settles," Cordelia had told them over breakfast.

And Zofie had loved seeing the new shades of gold that now constantly swirled around her two parents. Even when she drowned it out, the sheen stayed. And oh, how she had adored her lavender dress at the mating ceremony. How she had loved the fact that even though this was supposed to be a day about you two, Azriel had pulled Axel and her aside and made a separate vow, as a dad, just for them. Azriel was her yellow. Had always been. She had found it strange. Alarming even at first. Because no one, not even you, possessed a color like that. But then she realized that it wasn't a sign of warning. It was a sign that, just like a flower, she had to lean towards the sun. Toward the light. Towards her yellow.

She also remembered the day you two had sat them down. To tell them about the babe. "Well", you had breathed out, sparkling eyes gazing up at Azriel, who had been smiling like a fool. Never had Zofie seen him smiling like that. "Are we finally getting that black cat?", she had asked like a real kid, eager to drag the stray home. You had chuckled, "Not yet, but I'm working on it", since truly it had been Azriel who hadn't been on board with the idea. She watched Azriel moving closer to you, clasping your shoulders lovingly. She remembered how she had gazed at Axel, meeting his confused gaze.

The her dad let out a content sigh, "You two are getting another sibling", such simple sentence and yet the room exploded in a rainbow of colors for Zofie as she let out a squeal, grabbing onto Axel's hand. "Another kid from the camps?", Axel had frowned however. Most of them had been taken down. Only tightly monitored ones were allowed to stay put. And only with weekly reports sent to Rhys and then approved by the three Illyrians and the high lady. "No", Azriel had said softly as your hands had shifted to tighten the material of your dress that now shaped a slight bump. Zofie was convinced that Axel and her looked like two dead fishes up on the shore. Mouths gapping. Eyes big. "Surprise", you whispered as a smile broke out on your face. "Fuck yeah", Axel chuckled forward, embracing you in a tight hug. "Language, boy", Azriel reminded Axel as they clasped hands both smiling so much their cheeks had to aching.

"Mom", Zofie had muttered out, eyes full of tears. "You will be a big sister", Azriel had cupped her cheek lovingly. "That's so amazing", and she was genuinely happy. So happy. "We will knit things and oh, papa, we need to carve that crib and...", she knew she was ranting but the emotions. So many emotions... Azriel had wrapped her up in his arms. Drowning out the sounds immediately, "We'll do it all. You and me. Will make it special, my little star".

But what frightened Zofie now that she had returned after fetching some stew that Cordelia had made for your post labor recovery was that something had shifted. She didn't see it at first. Too focused on not spilling the food in the bowl. Too eager to watch you eat something. To see the colors that surround you growing brighter. Because the labor had taken so much out of you. Too much even. But now... Now she was dang happy she wasn't holding anything in her arms as she brought her gaze up because it would have clattered to the floor. Zofie had barely sucked in a breath. Her whole body was seized. Her dad sat in a rocking chair, one they had both carved. The baby was cradled against his bare chest as Azriel rocked back and forth slowly, humming beneath his breath.

"Papa", her voice was barely a whisper, but it had always been enough. Azriel had always heard her. It was always enough for him to stop doing whatever he was doing, just... His eyes didn't shift upward to meet Zofie. He did hum beneath his breath in acknowledgment, but...

Zofie tightened her fist. That would have been fine. She could understand it. The baby had been born a house ago, but it was the color that had shifted... "Papa," Zofie called out once more, feeling that same overwhelming sensation building up in her chest. "Isn't she pretty, huh?", was what Azriel had said in return as he shifted the newborn in his arm, pulling the baby that fit in his palm away from his chest so he could admire her. A wave of love crashed into Zofie's shields. Such an insufferable amount of love. Love had nothing to do with her. Zofie let out a shaky breath. As the bits of yellow dusted away from Azriel's aura.

"I want to hold her too," Axel's voice sounded from behind her, making Zofie twist back to look at her brother, who had stepped into the room. She was supposed to feel as full of love as everyone else, but watching Azirel carefully lower Novie into Axel's arms made Zofie's guts twist. Novie. Why pick a name that sounded like a better version of her own name. "Support the head," Azriel said gently, teaching his son on how to properly hold the youngest addition of the family, "That's amazing, and be careful with the wings." Another wave of emotions plunged into Zofie. Wings. Mother, that girl was perfect. Perfect in ways Zofie would never be. She never particularly cared that she didn't have wings. She didn't remember what it felt like to have them. Thwy had been ripped out by her father the moment she was born. But no one wished any harm to Novie. No, she would have a loving family from her first breath. He first cry. A perfect girl for a perfect family. And she was Azriel's blood. She had bits of Azriels. Features that would no doubt always make him smile. Because he would stop and see you, see himself in her. Zofie could sense slithers of green twisting around her own aura. She was jealous. Jealous of a newborn that was an unflawed version of her. Same dark hair. Same perfect skin. Just she wasn't cracked or marked.

A warm hand reached out for her, and Zofie instantly pulled back. "Zo, babe, is everything okay?", your gentle eyes looked up at her. Zofie forced on a smile, reaching back to you because she knew if she pulled back fully, it would alarm you, and she couldn't. Couldn't bring herself to hurt you. "Granny wanted some help downstairs; I will come up shortly.", the lie came so easily that it was alarming. Your warm palm cupped her cheek. "Thank you for being here with me today," you muttered softly. Zofie bit the inside of her cheek. Fighting the tears as she nodded. She didn't even spare a glance at her father and brother as she walked out. She had stopped to linger by the door. Was hoping for someone to ask her to stay. To do anything, but all she was greeted with was gentle laughter that only clawed at her heart more.

Hurrying down the stairs, she nearly tripled over her own feet. Barely catching herself on the railing. "Careful, love," Cordelia called out, her hands holding the basket filled with bloody sheets. Zofie simply nodded. Her hand reached for the doorknob instantly. Yet her hand stilled for a heartbeat as she looked over the door frame. Looking for Azriel's shadows. Ones that always followed her around. Ones that were always just for her. But she found none. "Zofie," her grandma called after not getting a response to her warning. Zofie knew the decision had to be made right here and now. A heartbeat of thinking too long, and she would... Without allowing another thought to simmer, Zofie yanked the door open. The cold winter breeze hit her face. And then she ran. Her feet slipped through the snowed-on rocks. As she ran and ran and ran, as the ringing in her ears drummed.

Nyx's pow

He could have stayed back in the camp as his father came to fetch Axel when YN had gone into labor, but Nyx always wanted to come back home. There was always a pull. An ache that only eased enough when he was in Velaris. That disappeared when everyone was in the room. Sitting in one of the fancy armchairs, the princeling continued to scribble as his parents talked in the background. He used to be a noisy boy, trying to listen in but as of lately none of their conversations interested him.

Just like his mother, Nyx reached for the brushes as soon as he could hold one properly. After that, his sketchbook was always close by. Simply because at times the visions and ideas would get so overwhelming that he had to put them down on paper. And he was just casually doodling flowers and swirls when an urge to draw a river bank hit him. Nyx was almost sure that he could hear the water roaring. The snow crunching beneath the feet. It was messy the way his pen arched out trees and snow. But it was almost as if he couldn't scratch an itch. One that was followed by an urge to fly. It happened at times more often than not as of lately. But he never gave it much thought. Illyrians were born with the sound of wind blowing within their hearts. So the need to be up in a sky wasn't anything strange.

So Nyx was up and walking towards the stained glass door, the pen and sketchbook forgotten. His wings were already ready for takeoff. "Nyx, where are you going?", Feyre's soft voice had made him halt. "Just for a fly," he said bluntly. "It's snowing," Rhys chirped in. "That had never stopped you, dad." Nyx rolled his eyes, stepping closer to his mother. "I will be back in no time; don't worry, ma." Nyx pressed a kiss on his mother's temple before turning back.

Usually, he never had a specific place he flew to on his night cruise, but tonight, the south bank of the river was exactly where he knew he had to be. The wind was painfully sharp tonight. That icy, rain-like wind. That felt like thousands of needless digging against one's skin.

Nyx would have flown over with no care if he hadn't seen the same oak trees that he had been scratching just before he leaped out of the balcony. His breath hitched. His heart was drumming in his ear. Because a part of him... He dove down, running the last couple of meters as his feet hit the ground with an impact. "Zo," he breathed under his breath. Chest heavy, "Zofie," he said much louder. The girl turned back, holding herself up against the tree. His skin was pale blue, and her wild swept black hair frozen over at the tips. "Hey, hey," Nyx breathed out, hands up, as he approached the younger female as if trying not to spook her even more. "Nyx," Zofie's voice was raspy and frail. Too raspy. Too frail. Something primal rippled deep within the princeling's chest.

"Hey," he called out softly, his hands reaching out for her. "Fuck, look at me," Nyx softly moved to cup her face, her ink-black pupils stared right at him. Not Zofie. An ancient spirit stared up at him instead. "You're freezing..." Nyz moved his warm palms over Zofie's icy arms, trying to soothe the skin. "Zo, what..." he muttered, looking around. Trying to find anything. A threat. Danger. Attack. Wildlife. He wasn't sure, "Why are you here?" but his question was met with Zofie's icy fingers gripping his arms. "Nyx," she called out. "I'm here. I've got you. It's okay," he reassured her. "Come on," Nyx wrapped both his arms and wings around Zofie, shielding her from the cold. He let his warmth seep into her. She felt so good in his arms. His mother had always joked about how he had been enamored by Zofie from the moment they met. They laughed it off as a childish crush, but they didn't know that the feelings hadn't changed.

But then a harsh wave of reality hit Nyx, "Does Uncle know you're here?" He knew that Azriel wouldn't harm him. Not really, at least. But Zofie was his everything. Nyx had rather a hard time forming a relationship with his uncle because they had never reached common ground as far as Zofie was concerned. She sagged in his arms, and Nyx swiftly scooped her up. She was tiny compared to him. And weigh no more than a feather. "Zo, what the fuck?", he growled, feeling the worry growing with him. But she didn't answer him. Curling deeper into his embrace. Her palm rested against his chest, right over his heart. He didn't know what he was thinking, but as he pushed back from the ground, Nyx knew that they weren't going home.

•••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @justdreamstars

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: sodapop, ponyboy, johnny cade, and dallas winston

↳ warnings: mentions of being beaten up, various injuries, and angst. no actual description of being jumped

↳ notes: could be interpreted as romantic or platonic. had trouble trying to nail all of them down, so i hope i did them justice. reblogs and comments and greatly appreciated

↳ song: blue moon (take five)—elvis presely

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐒𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩

• It's mid-day when he stumbles in from a long morning of working on cars down at the DX with Steve. Grease is all along the skin of his hands, and a different kind can be seen slicking back his hair, but that's nothing a hot shower can't fix

• He was on his way to do just that, enjoying the for once empty house as he did so, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw you splayed out on the couch

• You were so still his first thought was that you were taking a nap. But once Soda looked closer, he quickly realized you were doing anything but sleep

• "Hey there Soda." You slurred with a careless grin, elevating your head the best you could to keep blood from dripping into your eye; the likes of which was already beginning to swell an angry red color

• It was clear to Soda what had happened. Everyone in the gang had been jumped once or twice, the more minor ones resulting in a fist fight or two while the bigger fights ended up with scars like Johnny had, and he could tell this was one of the latter

• "Good glory."

• Soda immediately dropped everything to take care of you. Or, when you wouldn't let him fuss over you, insisting you were fine (you were not), he goes out of his way to keep an eye on you. The only times he leaves your side on the couch is to bring you some rubbing alcohol and a bandage for the open wounds

• Turns into such a mother hen. Even after getting a closer look at your injuries, which turned out to be less troubling than he had expected, he still refuses to leave you alone

• "What were you doing walking in that part of town?" He throws his hands in the air as you finally explained where you'd gotten jumped. "You know we ain't liked much there, man."

• You grunted with a mix of pain and annoyance as you sat yourself up more. "Yeah, well I wasn't exactly expecting to get jumped in broad daylight on a public street now, was I?"

• He supposes that's a fair point, but won't admit it. Especially not while your skin is turning various shades of the rainbow

• After that day he always makes sure to remind you not to walk anywhere soc's are known to hang. It even goes as far as him suggesting he could draw you a map, to which you respond by reminding him that you'd lived here just as long as he had and could walk by yourself thank you very much

• "At least make sure you carry a blade or something, yeah?" He practically begs you, all the while staring at the small scar that swiped across the beginning of your hairline. A memory of when you had been stupid enough to get into a fight you knew you wouldn't win

• "Yeah yeah whatever Soda." You puff, promising him that if anything like that ever happens again you won't hesitate to call him or one of the other guys

• He might be a bit overbearing, but by god does Soda love you, so don't you go getting beat up on now

𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲

• This was before he had gotten tag teamed on the way back from the movies, so frankly, when Ponyboy finds you leaning against a brick wall downtown with your head all but limp against it, he thinks he's found a dead body

• Pony is just about to nervously pass it when he notices your shoes—the exact same type he'd seen you wearing the last time you'd met up with him

• Has no idea what to do at first. He'd never seen anyone other than Johnny look like this after getting jumped, and the other boy had been crying. You were just laying there. He supposed that is he had been you, he would have been hollering for his brothers by now

• Doesn't freak out. That's not in his nature. Instead, Pony kind of just stares at you for a moment before walking over and shaking you. Perhaps with a bit more force than nessicary

• Despite his gift with words, Pony couldn't describe the relief that washed over him when he opened his eyes even if he wanted to

• "What happened?" He says your name with an underlying quiver to it, eyes darting around your shoulders as he looks at bruises and cuts. Nothing serious he hopes, but it's hard to tell in the moonlight. If he squints his eyes hard enough, he thinks he sees purple marks in the shape of fingers around your neck

• Sure enough, when you speak your voice is a little wheezey

• "What does it look like?" You cough, throwing your head back against the wall with enough effort that Pony hears a crack. "Owch. Forgot that was there."

• He isn't sure if your asking him about your face, or talking about the brick wall. Either way he wouldn't know what to say, so he just responds by standing up and bringing you with him

• Ponyboy feels about as young as he looks when the two of you first start walking down the dimly lit streets, but by the time he's close enough to see the lights of his house, he swears to himself that his muscles would've given out if the walk had been another block longer

• His brothers, and whoever else happens to be over at the house at the time, mostly take over once he manages to pry the screen door open with his free hand and toss you inside. Pony stands by as they make sure you'll be okay, occasionally making use of his hands by bringing you water or disinfectant

• He tries to skip school the next day to stay home with you and make sure you sleep alright, but is sent off anyways when Darry vetos that idea before he could even fully suggest it

• Real eager to get home all through the school day, and is glad when he walks in on you sitting in his kitchen that afternoon, rubbing at the spots on your neck as you eat a meal Darry managed to scrounge up for you

• Let's just say Pony is always the first to ask you to be safe when you go out alone after that

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲

• If this is Johnny before he himself gets jumped, then you're getting a very concerned friend questioning you in a soft voice as he tries not to look at your injuries too much. He knows that he hates it when people stare at him after his dad hits him, so he attempts to offer you the curtosy he never got

• Post beaten Johnny though? He's a nervous wreck

• It's even worse if he finds you before you find him. His first thought is that the people that did this to you might still be around, and he's ashamed of himself for wanting to run away. Later when he confesses that train of thought to you you reassure him he's fine and that anyone would have done the same thing, but he still gets an icky feeling in his gut anytime he thinks about it

• Assuming that you manage to stumble upon him first though, Johnny knows what to do and how to do it. It's almost sad that he knows the exact way to deal with a situation with this, but seeing as it happened to him not too long ago, it's not exactly a surprise

• He can't stop himself for looking for signs of ring indents on your face as he wipes blood off your face with shakey hands. His gaze is so intense that even through the pounding in your head you can tell what Johnny's thinking

• "It wasn't the same guys." You croak out. Johnny is momentarily startled at your words and turns as if to move away before hesitantly returning to the task at hand

• "Oh." His voice cracks. "Good."

• After making sure you're no longer bleeding, or at the very least hurting with every breath you take, he calls Ponyboy up first thing. It's the only other person he immediately thought of in the moment, and can't remember a time that he was more greatful then when Pony shows up to help him

• The two boys eventually tell everyone else, but that night Johnny relived every bad moment he's ever experienced all in one, and doesn't know that he'd have been able to deal with that if Pony or you hadn't been there; even if you were beaten black and blue

• Sometime later Johnny realizes that he'd been jumping at little things less and less, and a small part of him wonders if going through that with you that one night helped him to overcome some of his own fears. Even if by a little bit

• The thought it is comforting

𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬

• Red light filtered through the bar windows as you stumbled up rickety steps to knock on an equally as rickety door

• Your teeth chattered in the night despite it being in the middle of summer, mustering the most genuine smile you could as the entrance eventually opened

• "Dallas here?" You asked the man in the door with a poorly disguised groan

• Whatever would have happened next was promptly cut short at you felt your throat tighten. With a lurch in both your stoumach and your body, you leaned forward to vomit straight on Buck Merril's boots

• "Urg. Oops."

• Buck didn't even bother to growl at you or go look for Dallas before snatching you inside. If it had been a busier night, or if he had liked those boots more, he might have done either of those things. Or just straight up have left you to sit on that doorstep until morning

• But Bucm knew just by looking at you that you were in no condition to be left alone, and that Dallas would kill him if one of his friends died on his doorstep

• The bartender forwent knocking on Dallas' door before busting it open. He only had time to hope that his friend wasn't hooking up with anyone before stomping in, your dazed figure trailing behind him

• Thankfully it was just Dallas in the room. Just a pissed, shirtless looking Dallas. The way he shot up from in his bed made Buck think he had been trying to get some sleep and failing

• "They showed up looking for you. Let me know if you need to phone the hospital." He mummbled before slamming the door on the way out. Dallas barely had time to ask what in the fuck he was talking about before you planted face first on the foot of his bed

• Later he would be annoyed that you got bloodstains all over his sheets, but in the moment he was more focused on your ripped clothes and skin littered with flecks of glass and gravel

• "Got any bandaids Dally?" You ask with a dry tone, the joke falling flat at he three the covers off of himself. Part of them landed on your head over at the other end of the bed, and he rushed to move then away

• "Shit— uh, hold on." Was all he could manage. You took it upon yourself to cautiously crawl up against the wall, mindfully of the way your body screamed at you to stop as you did so

• Dallas finished russeling through one of his dresser drawers— the very same one that he would later go through to give Ponyboy and Johnny his gun after their late night misshap —coming back to you with a sunbleached cloth and some pills

• "Hold that wherever its bleeding the most." He said gruffly. "And take these."

• "What are they?" You swallowed them without waiting for his answer

• "Hangover pills. The only sort of medicine Buck has here that isn't white and powdery." Dally leaned far back from you for a moment to scan your available skin, eyes lingering on the way you winced everytime your stoumach moved in the slightest

• "Got me there the worst." You noticed his looks and chose to talk through your urge to hurl again. "Still feels like the winds been kicked out of me."

• "Soc's?" Is all he asks

• You shake your head. "No. Some other greasers. Picked a fight with them last week. I won and forgot all about it. Didn't realize that they were that ticked off about it."

• Dallas resisted the urge to scoff at you, and it must have shown on his face if the way you laughed said anything

• "Glory Dallas Winston, can you judge me later when I'm not bleeding all across your buddies floor?"

• "Sure sure." He waved, eyebrows furrowing

• He finds himself wishing later that you had gone to Darry or even Steve for help with this stuff. He isn't the best at dressing wounds, even if he's had lots of practice on himself, and knows better than most that his bedside manner isn't exactly the best. When you're not wincing or dry heaving in a bout of pain, the two of you are bickering

• "Anymore tighter and my finger will be likely to fall off, Dal."

• "Shut up."

• For the love of everything good don't ever do this to him again. Dallas has no idea how to be soft with people, and he isn't sure offering you a cigarette right after disinfecting your wounds is the best way to do it

• You accept the unusual gift anyways, shaking your head with a smile as you do so

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

How NoirPunk Meets - Hobie Brown x Noir!Peter Parker Headcanons

a/n: listen okay these two just hear me out- just listen i swear these two are perfect for each other on god i promise just trust me

also i be calling noir peter if thats okay i dont really see that much

—————————————————

So let's just be honest they're a large part of why the other sticks around in the society, and I wouldn't be surprised if -

Hobie was the one that finally got Noir!Peter to join

I really like the idea that Hobie was the thing that convinced him to join.

I mean, Peter has his own shit going on, he's not just fighting Goblin and the usual villains - he's actively trying to stop a fascist regime and thought system.

I could absolutely see the society approaching him multiple times, and Peter just declining. He's the brooding type to work alone, and (aside from learning about color), it wouldn't be surprised if he was just uncomfortable with this whole 'secret society of superhumans that controls the flow of history' thing...because, y'know

So as a last ditch effort, Miguel and Jess ask Lyla whose left and who's algorithmically their best bet at recruiting him

And Lyla is like '..You know who ;) '

Miguel is like 'Jesus Christ anyone but him' - because they barely send Hobie on missions for a reason!! He's a huge wildcard

and convincing Hobie to recruit someone else is a whole different story for another time

Hobie went to Peter's universe already planning to have him as an ally

It was only after they debriefed him on Spider-Noir and what he does that Hobie agreed

Even from his case file - which Hobie thinks it's creepy they have that but whatever - Hobie admired him and his activism

SO much of world theory and social understanding developed from the thirties onward, so already he'd feel a connection and understanding, being almost impressed by Noir

And despite what he lets on to Miguel, Hobie is smart and informed as fuck, and from his large knowledge of world history, so he already knew what he was getting into

But the first time he stepped into Noir's universe it was like turning the world on its head

It really shocked Hobie, which is pretty hard to do

It was like going from the world's loudest room to dead silence. It's a kind of serenity that kind of puts Hobie at ease. The rain, the darkness, the quiet, all that

Which is why Peter comes home one night to Hobie just chilling in his apartment like it's nothing

He's just laid out on the couch like 'Oh great, for a second I thought The Man was going to have you working all night.'

And like COME ONNNN could you imagine from Peter's POV

Working literally all night, tired as hell, coming home to the dark of his apartment with the rain outside, and he just finds Hobie, vibrant and pink on his couch, his color the only thing in the room

Usually Peter turned away all the others from the society, but he felt like Hobie might be different

So he let him stay, and offered to hear him out

But what's supposed to be a recruitment pitch turns into hours of Hobie and Peter at Peter's kitchen table, shooting the shit and talking about anything

Peter makes them some coffee as Hobie looks over Peter's book collection, smiling at the ones filled with Peter's notes and thoughts in the margins

Peter is almost taken a back, because Hobie is so bold and out there and worldly

He's surprised to meet someone actually interested in justice - real, actual justice - and equality. Someone whose ready to talk about it so openly and say 'hey fuck this amiright'

It's SO refreshing to Peter

He's impressed that Hobie has all of this vocabulary, describing complex ideals that were still being formed and whispered about in 1933.

In a universe full of rain and shadows and shades of grey, meeting Hobie is like falling into an oil painting for Peter. He's full of color and humor and ease and confidence - his humor is scathing and honest, and Hobie's the first one to make Peter laugh at a joke about anti-capitalism

The first night they meet they kinda just get lost in each other

And UHHHH yeah they keep going

Hobie comes back the first night and tells Miguel that he's 'still staking Noir out', not telling him they've actually met

And for the next four nights, Hobie came over to Noir's place, just to see him, and talk

Peter knows why Hobie's there, and Hobie isn't trying to hide it. In the beginning he tells Noir straight up that he's here for recruitment, that he thinks it's bullshit, and that eventually he's going to do something about it

But he asks Noir to join because, yeah, Hobie likes him a lot, and he wants to see him more. And he thinks he'd be one of the most valuable allies to have, ever.

Noir is literally his comrade.

And Noir agrees (, but he probably will have some terms and conditions to take up with Miguel later, like the kind of missions he will do, the amount of time he can and can't spend away from his dimension, etc)

But for the next four nights, they spend it just with each other, learning each other and trading ideas, drinking coffee in Peter's apartment and listening to vinyls

And they just make each other so soft

Sometimes, Hobie brings papers from his world to show Peter

The third time he visits, Hobie brings him a stack of zines - colorful little booklets full of collages and bold ink

On some nights, Hobie reads over Peter's first drafts at his kitchen table, watching Peter make coffee on the stove, the old-fashioned way

People at the Bugle start to notice that even if it's subtle, Peter seems more at ease and easygoing, and he has DOZENS of new, forward thinking ideas in his writing that he's excited about

Meanwhile Hobie's been in a great mood (which Miguel hates cause he's a hater like that)

He asks Hobie for a status report, and Hobie smuggly tells him that the missions accomplished

And Lyla is grinning her little ass off because OF COURSE she knew that algorithmically they're romantically compatible

(And YES Lyla sets up mission teams based on her own little matchmaker algorithm without Miguel's permission because she thinks its funny)

From then on Noir requests he either be assigned solo missions or missions with Hobie

And they go around HQ calling each other their 'partner' and neither refuses to elaborate any further

Mission partner? Dating partner? Partner-in-crime? ALL THREE.

__________

im obsessed with these geniuses. look at what they've done to me (and by they I mean myself I've done this to myself)

hi thxs for reading also this was not proofread so if you see a typo my adhd says no you didnt

[yelenasdiary]

Picture Perfect Views

Pairing: Painter! Yelena Belova x Model! Reader

Summary: Yelena is working on a new paining for her new exclusive range.

Translations: Detka (baby),

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Minors & Men DNI!! Smut, Dom! Yelena, Sub! Reader, Use of Toys, Masturbation, Slight Degradation, Language Warning, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism??, Overstimulation, Squirting, Oral (Reader Receiving) | 0.9K

AC: It’s about time I wrote something for Painter! Yelena!! Enjoy! x

"That's it baby, spread your pussy wide open for me" Your girlfriend smirked while her eyes flickered between your glistening pussy and the canvas in front of her. Her paint brush stroked the canvas to perfection, her brows frowned ever so slightly as she put the sight of you to the canvas. This wasn't the first time your girlfriend had used you as a reference to her artwork, you were her muse in every way. 

"Fuck!" You moaned, one hand holding a bullet sized vibrator to your clit while the other spread your lips wide with your index and middle finger as requested by the dirty blonde haired artist. She loved hearing your whimpers and moans while she painted, she said it helped make sure each stroke was where it was supposed to be. 

It's been a little over an hour of edging yourself at the word of your girlfriend while she painted the way you were spread out on the bed, legs wide open, head throwing back, brows almost connecting with frustration as tears filled your eyes. Your pussy clenched around nothing as it throbbed with the need to be filled, this painting was taking what felt like forever. Yelena started the new painting only two days ago, each day she had you laid on the bed before her, edging yourself as you moaned and whimpered for her to let you cum, even just once. 

"I can't wait for you to see how much of a whore you look for me" Yelena spoke, ignoring the way you slightly squirmed. 

"Baby please!!" You moaned once more. 

"Just a little longer, stay still!" She replied, running her tongue over her bottom lip as she refocused her attention at perfecting the way your pussy looked on the canvas. Every now and then she would mix different colors to get the exact same color of the shades of pink your pussy was, she used thinner brushes to bring out every crease and even thinner to bring out the shortness of your pubic hair that had begun to grow back. Everything had to be perfect, and she didn't care how long it took to get to perfection. 

You could feel your arousal dripping down to your asshole, giving Yelena the exact image she had in her head three days ago. "Fuck baby, I think this might be my best work yet!" She looked at you, sending a wink your way before she paused and put her paint brush down. 

"I c-can't take it anymore!" You replied, throwing your head back, eyes squeezed shut.

"I know baby, you've been such a good little slut for me" Yelena spoke softly as you felt her gently place one hand over the hand you held the vibrator in, "one last thing" she added before guiding your hand to slowly insert the vibrator into your soaked pussy. A loud loud left your lips as you felt the small toy enter you, letting you feel every single vibration through your body. With a small gesture, Yelena moved your hand up slightly, making sure you hit your sport perfectly. 

"F-fuck!!" You moaned. 

"Keep that position baby" Yelena replied as she backed away and sat down in front of the canvas again. Your moans got louder; your legs begged to be closed as you felt your release grow stronger. Yelena was rather quick to add some finishing touches to the painting before turning the canvas around in direct line with your soaked pussy. 

"M'so f-fucking close! P-please let me c-cum!!" 

"Go on darling, finish off my painting" Yelena smirked once more. Even though she didn't say the exact words, you only hoped this was her giving you permission. You finally let yourself go, pulling the toy from your throbbing pussy as Yelena watched you squirted onto her painting. She couldn't help the growing smile on her lips, proudness in her eye as she looked at the canvas. "Look at that detka, isn't it a masterpiece?" she looked to you, placing a soft kiss on your lips, "I'm so proud of you, lay back for me and I'll clean you up" she whispered. 

Your tired state followed her words before she even finished her sentence, laying on your back with your legs still spread open widely for her you let your eyes close peacefully and moaned softly when her lips made contact with your clit. Yelena hummed at the taste of you, "so sweet" she mumbled between licks. Your hand landed on top of her head as you moaned her name, your sensitive pussy already so close to another orgasm. 

"G'nna give me another one detka?" Yelena asked, looking up at you from between your legs. You nodded quickly as you slightly pushed her head back to where you needed her, "d-don't stop!" you replied with another moan. 

Within minutes your hand was gripping a handful of Yelena's hair, your back arched off the bed as you came around her tongue. "F-fuck!" you moaned loudly, your thighs closing in around Yelena's head as she helped you ride out your high. 

Pulling back, Yelena ran her tongue over her lips and smirked, "I already have ideas for my next painting" She winked as she crawled on top of you, kissing you deeply. A soft moan escaped your lips at the taste of yourself on her tongue. Being with Yelena was exciting and it was safe to say you were excited to learn how you would be helping the artist in her next work of art.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @valiantmugcowboyscissors | @observeowl  | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @crescent-witch | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @maria-403 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | @xox-little-troublemaker-xox | @irishhappiness | @music-4ever | @hyper-fixated-delusions | 

[thebadboyfanclub]

Say It Again (Charles Leclerc x Reader)

Hey y’all, so I wanted to indulge myself into this and hopefully you like it as much as I did.

Charles Leclerc, the man, the myth, the prince of Formula One, and the one that has the spotlight on him not only for his excellent driving skills but also for his baby blue eyes that sparkled like precious jewels, men wish to be him and women would kill to be with him, to grow up with such pressure of having to succeed but also the sweet taste of privilege in your mouth was a combination destined for chaos.

Until she came, his (y/n), a young lady who was on the marketing team for Ferrari, he could still recall the day they met, it was at the Grand Prix in Indonesia, and it was her first time at an event like this as a guest of the company, she was wearing a sundress and her hair was down, the smile of excitement reminded him of his first race in formula one, how her eyes sparkled with curiosity at anything she gazed, how the tattoos decorated her skin and the golden evil eye necklace along with golden earring complimented her.

“Charles this is (y/n), our newest employee”

“Pleasure to meet you”

“Likewise, you have an accent”

A subtle shade of red appeared on her cheeks as her focus shifted from him to the ground and then back up, her lips went into a thin line before the smile came back again, he didn’t mean to insult her, he was just curious.

“English is not my native language”

“It is not mine either, where are you from?”

“Well my father is Italian but my mother is Greek, I was born in Italy, I grew up in France though, my father was in the military so you know, speaking a bunch of different languages was the normal-“

“let’s move on, shall we? I'm sure Charles would like a moment of peace before the race, make Ferrari proud”

The conversation was rudely interrupted by (y/n) 's manager who ushered her away from the driver, Charles was not bothered by her rambling in the slightest, actually, he was fascinated by it, he did not meet a lot of people who could speak to him so casually, yes he could see that most of her talking was from how excited she was but still, it was what made her stand out.

Soon her laughter was heard around the box and her colorful Instagram stories were the reason he would refresh his Instagram feed, he loved observing her, how she always asked her colleague if she wanted coffee and then refused to take money for it.

“I asked you if you wanted it”

Was what (y/n) would always say, (y/n) also had this cute thing of kissing the top of her colleague's head since she was taller, how her two front teeth would semi-appear when she smiled, and how she cracked her knuckles every time she pitched an idea to her boss or how her eyes welled with tears when someone raised their voice at her, yet she kept her voice turn and spoke up for herself.

“I will not allow you to talk to me like this”

She was just, (y/n), she was honest and raw to herself, a rare thing for someone her age.

That is why when they were in Monaco for the weekend race and (y/n) sat next to him on the yacht he wasn’t surprised that she leaned and laid her head on his shoulder.

“Nervous?”

“A bit, I have to make my homeland proud”

“You don’t have to make your homeland proud, you have to make yourself proud, right?”

“I suppose”

“Prince Leclerc, always so… so… sterile”

“Pardon?”

Charles asked as his eyebrows raised from what she had just said, (y/n) 's infectious laugh erupted and her hand went up to cover her mouth as usual.

“je veux dire, tu es toujours aussi tendu, je ne pense pas t'avoir déjà vu te détendre” (I mean, you're always so tense, I don't think I've ever seen you relax)

Her voice was so different in France, Charles guessed because she didn’t have to translate the whole thing in her head or perhaps the champagne was making her a tad bit drowsy.

Charles smirked at her and nodded his head, she was right, Charles sometimes could not even sleep before a race, melatonin had become his best friend when he started driving for Formula One, he had sneaked a bottle of it in his bedroom so his parents wouldn’t see it.

“pouvez-vous me blâmer?” (Can you blame me?)

“No”

It was a simple answer, barely above a whisper, yet when she raised her eyes at him, something in him sparked, in a snap everything went quiet and all he could hear was her shallow breathing, instinctively his hand went up to caress her cheek, her flesh hot against his index finger and (y/n) felt like electricity drew through her body, she could only guess this was the sensation of a deer caught in headlights, needing to pull away but frozen on her spot.

“Belle” (beautiful)

After that word (y/n) lost all composure, leaning in to just let her lips rest on his, waiting to see his reaction which was to of course deepen the contact, and what was once a hesitant and soft kiss went to passionate open-mouthed make out in a blink of an eye, his hand found the back of (y/n)s neck to keep her in place whilst (y/n) gripped on his shirt firmly.

It was only when Charles went down to her neck to leave a trace of butterfly kisses that (y/n) could finally breathe.

“Oh my”

When Charles heard her voice it felt like he was pulled out of a spell, though incredibly aroused suddenly he was pulled out of his dreamland and back to the yacht, a yacht filled with people, her coworkers, other drivers, anyone and everyone could feast upon them with their hues.

(Y/n) felt like she was pushed into a bath filled with ice at the immediate stop of his lips, stripped away from all the endearments her eyebrows furrowed with confusion, her immediate response was to think that he was just teasing so one could imagine her surprise when she leaned in to kiss him and his hand went up to her chest to keep her from coming any closer.

“I don’t understand”

“I must go”

“Charles-“

“I must go, now”

After that incident Charles's demeanor did a complete 180, he could barely look her in the eye, avoiding (y/n) 's presence at all costs by pretending he was busy or there was somewhere he must go, her laugh was now at a distance and he was usually way too far to see the wrinkles on her eyes when she smiled.

They were pretty distant colleagues so their paths didn’t cross all the time, however, they were still under the same label and that meant that they were both invited to the New Year dinner and after-party that Ferrari held, to celebrate the upcoming year.

Charles looked dapper in his suit, the man is a walking doll so no one was surprised, on the contrary, they expected him to show up looking sharp, on the other side (y/n) had knocked it out of the park, she had splurged on the wonderful dress that did wonders for her figure and not only that but the perfume she had on was like you dived head first to a blooming garden, it was hard for Charles to keep his eyes off from her and for the most part he had succeeded, until her manager rose from his seat, lighting tapping his glass and gave an utterly dull speech.

“And on that note, I would like to raise a toast to our wonderful (y/n) and announce that she has decided to not renew her contract with us, we wish her the best at her new company Mercedes, and we gave her solid growth to learn and now I am certain she will make us proud”

Charles's eyes shot up at (y/n) who kept a subtle smirk and nodded in gratitude for the great wishes for her future, it seemed as if she was leaving on mutual and respectful ground which was wonderful for her career though not for Charles.

(Y/n) felt uncomfortable for the whole dinner, a pair of eyes that spewed fire towards her compelled her to shift on her seat, that was until everyone moved to the terrace with the slightest of a breeze and the jazz music along with the breathtaking view.

Charles had been drinking more than he should have as he still looked over (y/n) like a hawk, he was ready to talk to her when once again Carlos beat him to it and approached something Charles wanted first.

“So it is true, you are leaving us”

“You make it sound so dramatic Carlos, it was a good opportunity”

“I bet it is, anyone would do anything to have you on their team”

“I am not so sure about that”

She mumbled, it had been months since the Monaco incident yet it still stung like hell, it was partially the reason she even considered moving to Mercedes, being in another company meant she could avoid her torture that listened to the name of Charles much easier and maybe she could even forget anything ever happened.

“Don’t undermine yourself, it doesn’t suit you”

“And what does mister Sainz?”

“Are you asking for the appropriate answers or are you feeling risky?”

“tu me déçois ma chérie, je n'aurais jamais pensé que tu abandonnerais si facilement, je suppose que tout le monde n'est pas fait pour ça” (you disappoint me my darling, I never thought you would give up so easily, I guess not everyone is cut out for this)

Charles rudely interrupted the pair, (y/n) turned to look at him with an expression that made her annoyance clear as day, her one eyebrow raised and her jaw tightened, how dare he say something like that? Mercedes was one of the most respectable brands out there and he spat on it like he wasn’t racing for Haas not too long ago.

“c'est drôle, je pourrais dire la même chose de toi et je ne me souviens pas t'avoir demandé ton avis, and in English please, it is such bad manner to speak in a language that someone you interrupted can’t understand” (it's funny, I could say the same thing about you and I don't remember asking your opinion)

“It is alright (y/n), Charles is young, he will learn to have some respect one day”

“And you think you deserve that?”

“Charles, you are making a scene”

“I didn’t do anything, I was speaking to you, not to him”

“You once again tried to butt in somewhere you don’t belong”

“And you do?”

“Hey, this is enough, I’m sorry Carlos I’m going to take Charles away from here”

“I’m not going anywhere”

“I didn’t ask you”

(Y/n) grabbed Charles by the wrist and dragged him away from all the prudes and eyes, if they raised their voices just a little bit more they would have ended up on every tabloid there is and that would have been a catastrophe for everyone that was involved.

Charles only smirked in triumph as he was being dragged away by a frustrated (y/n) and shoved into a bathroom before she closed the door behind her, her hand went up to her temple so she could rub circles in hopes that it would soothe the massive headache due to the annoyance this whole incident had caused.

“How stupid can you be? Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like an arrogant piece of shit, what was the meaning of this?”

“I wanted to talk to you”

“So you resided to insulting me?”

“I did not”

“Cut the shit Leclerc”

“I did not! I just… why were you talking to him?”

He sounded more like a spoiled little kid who saw his favorite toy being in the arms of another kid than an actual adult which caused (y/n) to pause as she took one small step back from Charles who had leaned on the sink with his arms on his side supporting him.

“You are so… you left me there that night, ran off like somebody was chasing you and now you dare to act like this? No”

“(Y/n) you don’t-“

“I don’t what? Understand? You are the one that fucking left me there, I looked like a fucking fool in front of everyone, you know how humiliating that was? To walk into my job the next day when everyone looked at me with pity or judgment? No, cause nobody would dare to do that to Prince Charles Leclerc, he can do whatever he wants”

That was when he could finally see past his nose, the veil of ignorance was lifted from his eyes and he could finally stare at the cold truth, he had done it to protect her, shield her reputation from the harm of sleeping with a coworker, he thought he was acting selflessly by refusing to do what he wanted to do the most, touch her.

In the meantime he had managed to make her the butt of the joke, poor little girl got dumped by Charles, he bit his lip wishing that if he bit enough the would turn back time and take it all back.

“Say something”

“I’m sorry”

He responded on impulse, his words were enough to bring tears to her eyes, from the exhaustion of pretending to be fine and not listening to the whispers, from the tough act of not caring about Charles, from the cathartic emotion of the apology, all these mashed together made her little marbles full of water.

“Ma belle dame” (my beautiful lady)

He whispered to her as he reached with his arms to pull her in a hug, (y/n) 's forehead collided with his chest when his hand went up to caress her hair, tears streamed from her eyes and stained his button up in the process, a few small whimpers escaped her lips and her body trampled.

The sensation of guilt was the worst of all for Charles, it overtook his entire body like venom, spreading through his veins rapidly yet he had to be there for her, it was the least he could do after the mess he had created.

“I’m so stupid, I did it to help, to- I didn’t want you to be labeled as anything”

“The minute your lips touched mine all of that was thrown out the window, and honestly I think you made it worse”

“I know, I didn’t mean to do any harm”

“You never do, that’s the problem”

Her hands found his cheeks as she stared into his blue eyes that had captivated her and half of the female population, time froze for them at that moment, his hands gripped her waist tighter as he swallowed the lump in his throat, she was so beautiful even under the harsh fluorescent light of the bathroom.

“You changed your perfume”

“I did”

“I Haven’t been able to smell your perfume since-“

“Which one was I wearing?”

“It was floral, this one is like you are dripping with caramel”

“I’ll take that as a compliment”

“They are probably looking for us”

“Do you want me to leave?”

She whispered, her voice low and erotic, she knew that the answer would be negative, the way his eyes focused on her lips told her everything, her aura was sucking him in forcing him to remain in his spot.

“I missed you”

“Say it again”

“I missed you, mon beau” (it translates to my beautiful but I’ve been told it’s used as a nickname)

“You sound sexier in French”

“I will sound even sexier when I have you naked”

“Is that a promise?”

“More like a statement”

“Cocky aren’t we?”

“embrasse-moi” (kiss me)

“What?”

“You heard me”

“I did, I just want you to say it again”

“embrasse moi, s'il te plait” (kiss me, please)

Charles pleaded, (y/n)s lips curved into a devilish smile before she brushed her lips against his, she was hoping to tease him though she had seemed to forgotten Charles was a formula one driver, his reflexes were too fast for her and swiftly he bit her bottom lip to suck her in.

(y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him as close as humanly possible, the kiss followed the path of the last one, passionate like two people that desperately wished to quench their thirst for one another, his lips traveled down to her neck, his breath was enough to earn moans and grunts as her sensitivity peeked through the roof, Charles had lost track of everything, time and place did not matter and naturally he wanted more, so he lifted her off the ground and on to the bathroom sink, positioning himself between her legs as his hands roamed all over her body.

“Look at you, so eager”

He teased her once her hand went over his aroused manhood over his pants, a little giggle escaped her but she didn’t seem to shy away or stop, her fingers finding the button quite easily and pulling his pants down as fast as possible.

(Y/n) had seemed to make it quite easy for him since the dress was easily pulled up to her waist and her panties ripped apart without even having Charles put all of his strength into it.

His tip grazed over her making (y/n)s head go back and hiss from anticipation.

“(Y/n)?”

A voice called for her after an abrupt knock, her eyes shot open from the shock and so did Charles, time had flown by and naturally people started to look for them.

“Y-yeah?”

“Are you ok? Where’s Charles”

“I’ll be out in a second”

“We can’t find Charles”

“I don’t know where he is”

Charles snickered in a low note at her smooth lie and the result was a smack on the biceps by (y/n) whose blood had gone cold in her veins from the fear.

“Alright”

They both waited for a minute hoping the person had away before they burst into laughter from the close call.

“How much do you think we have?”

“Maybe 10 minutes tops”

“I need only 5”

“I was hoping you would say that”

Requests are open!

[yawntutsyip]

Neteyam x Fem!Metkayina! Reader:

warnings: none

context: (y/n) is a very socially awkward and shy girl. She has problems meeting new people due to her being very antisocial but maybe she will push back her anxiety and try to talk to the new Na'vi that has caught her eye. Neteyam on the other hand is intrigued by the girl, he already finds her cute at first sight but the more he interacts with her the more he finds himself adoring her attention wanting to get closer with the shy girl.

AN: I decided to move my wattpad story on here as well, I have already written 3 chapters so they will be shortly uploaded after this one. (That also means I ain’t proof reading them 😭 sorry)

Chapter two , Chapter three , Chapter four

Shy | Chapter One :

It was one of your average days in Awa'atlu. The weather was  perfect today, not too cold and not too hot.

You were waist-deep in the water feeding the young ilu that were swimming ever so gracefully around you. One of your main chores around the village was to help take care of the ilu, making sure that they were well-fed and healthy.

Soft hums come from your mouth as you stand there basking in the sunlight. You take a deep breath in closing your eyes and become in tune with your surroundings. Hearing the distance chirps from the ilu, your fellow Metkayina people that were on land performing their everyday tasks.

You could feel the waves as they glided by you brushing against your aqua colored skin as well as the slight breeze in the air.

It was peaceful. Being in the water so in tune with everything really helps calm your nerves. It was your safe space, well besides your mother and father of course.

As you stand there, you become aware of two presences behind you by their taller shadows blocking the sun. Your open your eyes to be greeted by Rotxo and Aonung,

"Hey weirdo, what are you doing?" Rotxo teased swimming closer to your side with Aonung following behind him smirking at the name he called you.

You roll your eyes at them.

You grew up with them as well as Tsireya, At this point you were used to their childish behavior knowing they don't have bad intentions with you.

"....I was feeding the ilu" You reply in a soft voice looking up at them sheepishly.

"What ilu?...There's nothing around here" Aonung spoke with an eyebrow raised gesturing to the empty water.

You were taken back and looked around you to realize that, indeed the ilu from earlier are in fact gone. There were only some fish swimming in the distance.

You took a long pause trying to recall when that happened.

"Uh oh, did little (y/n) lose track of time again, You should be careful doing that" He gently knocked on your head in a scolding manner. "They were here earlier.." you whispered with a confused frown on your face. The two boys laugh at your airheadedness.

Losing track of time was a common thing you tended to do nowadays.

While the the two Metkayina boys make fun of you, all of you were cut off with the sound of the village horn.

You look above you and see 5 Ikran fly past you. It made Aonung's smile turn into a furious frown, immediately being alerted and left first diving back into the water with you and Rotxo following behind him.

By the time you guys reached the village the group of Ikran had already landed and people were starting to crown around the new intruders.

The boys walked to the front of the crowd as people made way for Aonung. You slowly followed from behind, Seeing the Ikran this close to you for the first time was very intimidating. They could easily bite your head off or pick you up and take you away.

As the new Na'vi come into view you realize that they were not Metkayina people, They looked completely different. Their skin was a darker shade of blue. More slimmer figures, Their tails were smaller and skinny 'how do they swim?' you say to yourself but before asking any questions Rotxo spoke up.

"Look! What is that!? Is that supposed to be a tail?!" He points causing everyone to laugh at them. "Its too small! How are they supposed to swim?!" he continued.

Your ears immediately lowered while your eyes slightly widened, surprised he had the audacity to say that out loud. I mean...yes you were all thinking it as well- but you wouldn't blurt it out?!! , you awkwardly scoot away trying not to be associated with them.

They both look at you confused as if saying 'where are you going?' while you shake your head making an X with your arms and keep scooting away. Thankfully Tsireya comes to save the day by smacking their hands and scolding them and before you can scoot away anymore Aonung catches your elbow and pulls you back to them.

You smile at Tsireya saying a quiet hello before glaring up at the taller boy.

Before one of the boys can make any more of their dumb remarks, the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk finally show up..but the Tsahìk doesn't seem too happy.

After everyone came to an agreement the Olo'eyktan began to speak again.

"Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us, Treat them as our brothers and sisters. They do not know the sea so they will be like babies taking their first breath." You looked at Aonung and boy did he not look happy.

"Teach them our ways, so that they don't suffer the shame of being useless."

'damn' you thought to yourself. kinda harsh…

He gestures to you guys, "My son Aonung and our daughter Tsireya will show your children what to do. (y/n).. You can help out as well" The Olo'eyktan looks down at you.

Your mouth agape, You start to stutter. "I, what?- but sir-, Uhm, I don't-" you try to refuse but realized who you were talking to and bowed your head. "Okay" You say barely above a whisper but somehow he heard you.

"But father- Why me-?!" Aonung pleaded to his father "I mean, you know (y/n) is too shy also- why make her-"

"Because I said so, Plus-" He turned to look at you. "You can work on your socializing little girl" he raised an eyebrow in a scolding way. It was true. You were a very shy girl. You didn't talk to anyone outside of Tsireya, Rotxo and Aonung.

Here and there some of Aonung and Rotxo's friends would try to converse but you always hid back in your shell and kept the talking short.

Soon everyone cleared up and it was only you guys and the new people. Tsireya grabbed your hand and walked closer to them. "We can help you carry some stuff! I will also show you to your new home."

You slowly walked towards the older boy out of the two and asked if he needed any help caring anything while keeping your head down avoiding eye contact. "I'm sorry but can you repeat that- I didn't hear what you said" blush starts to creep up on your face, hearing his voice brought butterflies to your stomach.

You raise your head facing him and repeat yourself once again quickly making eye contact with him before averting it.

He laughs at your shyness and picks up a couple of things checking if they were heavy before handing you the two lighter bags out of them all before carrying the rest himself. You both walk side by side following everyone as Tsireya led the group to their marui. "So..What's your name? I'm Neteyam '' he smiles at the short Metkayina girl.

You think to yourself deciding whether you want to tell him your name or not. You look at him as he smiles at you. ".....My name is (y/n).." you mumble out but make sure it's loud enough for him to hear so you wouldn't have to repeat yourself like earlier. 'That was so embarrassing'

"(y/n*)?" Neteyam repeats back to you but pronounces it wrong. "No, it's (y/n)."

"(y/n*)?" He once again pronounces it wrong and butchers it even more. You don't have the guts to correct him so you just awkwardly nod your head and accept that you were gonna be called the wrong name from now on.

Finally everyone reached the marui, You walked in and set the bags you were carrying down against the wall and jumped knocking into Neteyam startled  as you heard a loud thud behind you.

"I apologize Neteyam-" "Are you alright?!" You spoke at the same time. You both pause making eye contact before he speaks up again. "Are you alright?" "Yes I'm okay..I'm so sorry for knocking into you I didn't mean too"

You  turn around to find out it was just Neytiri she had dropped the mat that she was holding onto the floor.

After helping the Sully family get all their things, you walk out and meet Tsireya and Aonung.

"We will be back here later to take you guys in the water, In the meantime if you guys need any help let us know!" Tsireya said to the family with a wave. "We will, thank you" Jake replied with a smile on his face.

You three began to walk away letting the family get settled in their new home, This is definitely a big change for them.

But as you walk away you stop and give one last look to the family, eyes meeting another pair of eyes that caused you to blush and turn back around quickly jogging to reach Tisreya and Aonung.

Maybe interacting with new people wasn't so bad after all....

[minty-mumbles]

Linked Universe Survey 2023

The long awaited results of the survey. Sorry it took me forever, making graphs is hard.

There were 452 responses to the survey as a whole, which is almost double what we got last year, so thank you to everyone who participated!

If you want to see the raw data, you can find that here. I had thoughts about the data, but compiling that into another post would be too much of a hassle. Feel free to send me asks about it though!

The rest of the post will be under a read more as it it large

Demographics

Other: Demigirl (4), Transmasc (3), Grey genderfluid, Unlabeled, Demiboy, Demiagender

Other: Omnisexual (4), Poly (2), Trixic, Abroromantic or Bellusromantic, Demisexual

General Questions

Other: Quotev, Discord, their own google docs

Other: Discord, Variations of "I haven't posted yet, but I pan to" and "I haven't posted my fics in ages",

Other: Wattpad, Deviantart, Discord

Other: Crochet dolls, Custom dolls, Roleplay blogs (2), Fan translations, Headcanons (2), Piano music

The purple section in the “Warriors vs Warrior” chart is supposed to read “Warrior.” I made a typo.

Favorites and Least Favorites

Selected Free Response Answers

im sorry warriors i just can't play your game (it is very very hard. i am stuck very early on in the game)

I love cats meow meow meow

was extremely tempted to put twilight for least favorite. unfortunately he is my favorite to write from the perspective of (he has taken over most of my wips. help) and that probably counts for something. WILD on the other hand. hooo boy how the hell do i characterize this gargoyle. why is he Like That. least favorite it is

Twiddy

very good fandom to be in :) everybody is very nice

It's a straight up crime that Wars lost the aesthetics poll so quickly. He has such a peak Link design with the best colors. Ugh I'm getting wistful.

FROGS. FROGS. FROGS. ALSO HAPPY PRIDE MONTH. FROGS. FROGS. FROGS. FROGS. FROGS.

I will fight Hylia herself and the next person who implies Twi can't handle spice. If we're going to lean into him being southern/Midwestern, which is an alright stero type for our rancher, please keep in mind the culture you're basing him off. The south and midwest can handle their spice, I assure you. Have you ever had authentic Louisiana gumbo? It will melt you tongue off. Or some good old fashion spicy fried chicken? I promise the real stuff has quite a kick. (In all seriousness, though. It's more important that you're having fun. And even I can admit the idea of Twi being an Ordonian who can't handle his spice is more than a little funny.)

I am an OoT Link edgelord and have been since early 2017. So, in September of that year, when an artist by the name of jojo56830 puts out a lineup of nine different Links and the Hero of Time is there – the oldest, no eye, Hero’s Shade armor? I saw that one sketch and just thought “oh this is gonna be bad.” Yeah of course he has the coolest design. By the way, it’s only a matter of time until Fierce Deity shows up in the comic and I have reason to believe it could be this current Dawn arc. Dawn … Dawn of a New Day … and who brought about the Dawn of a New Day? Fierce Deity. Twilight is recovering but still injured and what will happen if he falls again? Fierce Deity is coming and we need to be prepared. In this essay I will—

Remember that time when someone put the whole script of the bee movie in here? I’m not that dedicated, and I don’t have that time, but let us remember and hope someone else does it again this time. Cause someone is bound too. We’re all crazy enough to do it. Alright, love you and stay hydrated pls!

Hi! I joined this fandom really recent but i’ve always seen LU stuff on pinterest and elsewhere. Only recently have i actually took the time to understand the fandom and get back into LOZ stuff and i adore the characters and story! The more and more fanart, fanfics, and comics i see about the different Links the more i love them all. It’s such a pain to pick just one i like or one i don’t like because they’re all so unique. I love this fandom and hope to get more involved!! Have a wonderful rest of your day :]

Epona is an underrated queen

your mom

I really don't get why Zelda is called Artemis. Athena makes more sense???? It perplexes me

Anyone seeing this should check out Breanna’s E!Wild AU

Something something queer every Link into oblivion!

[far-from-official]

Happy Valentines Day!

Transcript:

"Isn't it beautiful out here?"

Scarab had dragged Prismo outside, far away from home. Many storage cubes full of different sampling equipment sat bunched in Prismo's floating blanket, test tubes and containers, stuff Prismo can't identify by just looking at it sat in those cubes.

"'Suppose so."

Prismo sounded a little bored, but he's seen quite a few of these fields in his very long lifetime. Seen one, you've seen them all. A huge, sprawling flower field. Prismo can't identify a single flower here, even if he tried. Which, to be fair, he won't try. The field was colorful, blindingly so. Yellows, reds, blues, golds. Blobs of every shade of green, sprouting out tall where the flowers hadn't invaded. It reached farther than Prismo's eyesight could render.

Scarab dragged him by the (covered) hand out into it. He mumbles different scientific proposals, things he wants to show to the rest of Wizard City.

Nerd stuff.

Prismo only hears the excited tone of his voice and focuses on that. He quickly fell in more toward Scarab's behavior than what he's actually talking about, finding all the little things he recognizes. Prismo leans on the blanket ball, nodding along like he's listening.

Scarab talks with his hands. Scarab trills and clicks. Scarab watches the ground so he doesn't step on too many flowers at a time.

Prismo gets so distracted that he hadn't realized that Scarab had dropped Prismo's hand, instead actively trying to tug the blanket out from under Prismo.

Prismo lets go of the blanket immediately, stammering out a small excuse.

"You spaced out, didn't you?" Scarab trilled, cutting through his needless excuse. He gently takes the blanket from him, and he spreads it out on the ground.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry." Prismo plays with his turban in his own habit, a nervous tic. Scarab moves each cube to be stacked up all nice and neat, taking out what he needs.

Prismo went to his side immediately, curling into him. His turban was pressed into his back with his legs slung over Scarab's hips, his hands occupying themselves by playing with Scarab's jutting spikes around his chest.

Scarab collected samples despite his limited range of movement, gentle with each flower as he plucked out their pedals and cut stems.

Prismo was instructed to hold things occasionally, pick flowers, go get dirt from the side of that hill over there. He carried them out without much thought, too distracted by watching Scarab at work.

He sat cross legged, stuffing flower petals in some book to dry. Gentle as he turns bleeding stems upside down over a vial and then corking it closed. He whips around excitedly to Prismo, showing him the vial.

"I've never seen this before, look!" He got up with a few creaks and pops in his knees and hips, walking quickly to Prismo despite the clicks coming from his knees. To Prismo, it looked like strawberry jam, as it was bright red with chunks of what looks like seeds. He was far more concerned with Scarab's joints popping like they did.

Scarab was rattling off all of his observations, how the liquid was thick and he thought it was because it was a carnivorous plant, evidenced by the dead flies in the bottom of the plant. Prismo nodded while leading him back over to the blanket, his hand wrapped around Scarab's waist. He knew that Scarab would start hurting soon, based on the sounds of protest his legs were making.

Scarab knew it too, little etches of pain seeping into his voice as he rambled. He walked to the blanket and that's as far as he made it, unable to lower himself down.

When Scarab was in pain, it made bending his knees extremely painful, but standing up straight hurt worse. Prismo looked so concerned, petting his waist in circles, nosing into his neck.

"Y-You can help by lowering me down, Prismo." Scarab knew what he was thinking, holding the backside of the clothed hand on his waist.

"Tell me if I hurt you." Prismo braced himself on Scarab's back, holding him firmly. Slowly, carefully, lovingly, Prismo lowered Scarab to the ground, adjusting the position or moved faster based on Scarab's groans and clicks. The flowers folded underneath Scarab, snapping with loud cracks, bleeding stems soaking the blanket.

Prismo moved out from under him, receiving an upset trill. "What's wrong?" He cupped his mask and Scarab pressed hard into it. "Can you..put your knee under my back and your arm under my head?" He quietly requested, reaching up and holding the hand on his mask.

Prismo whispered delicate affirmations, doing as Scarab said. A mellow chitter left him in pleasure, his pain relieved just a little bit. Prismo thumbed his chest, nosing back into his neck. A mumbled "thank you" left Scarab, who sighed with relief when Prismo's hand shifted to caress Scarab's sore knees.

"I'm sorry our outing was cut short…I didn't mean to get up that quickly." He whispered, shifting his hands to rest over his stomach.

"Mmm..we're still out, aren't we?" Prismo grinned, huffing a giggle against Scarab's cold chitin. "Don't apologize. You were excited, it was cute."

"Ah. Don't call me cute.." Scarab turned his head away, Prismo knows he's not upset. Under his mask, he was sure he was burning up.

"Hush. I like calling you it." He said. "I call it like I see it."

Though, Scarab chattered in pain when Prismo shifted to hold him closer, Prismo frowning and shushing him. "I-I'm sorry–"

Prismo shushed him louder. "Don't apologize. I know you can't help it, and I don't mind holding you through it."

"You don't have to, though."

"I want to. Gives me an excuse to cuddle."

"Like you need an excuse.”

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Sex Worker AUs

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!

Lando/Oscar

nsfw: dancing on quicksand by @tearstrung | E | 3.3k Lando is outrageous, and Oscar struggles to understand what's a joke and what isn't - until he sees a link on Twitter. This fic is red hot, very funny, and perfectly characterised! Oscar's special brand of bamboozlement is especially wonderful here, as he comes to terms with Lando's job on the side. The ending is like a beautiful punch to the gut. Love it!

'Though, the guy’s skin is similar in color to Lando’s—olivey, the natural tan Lando wears year-round, even if he’s barely been in the sun with his shirt off. The same big hands, which don’t really match up with his small stature, rippled with lithe muscle; followed by a wide ribcage that slips down into a tiny, tapered waist. Nipples, shades darker and always hard from what Oscar can see from a long scroll. At the tips of the guy’s fingers, Oscar notices leftover chew marks, the skin pulled back, nails bitten short into nubs.'

Carlos/Lando

nsfw: when the time comes by @venerat | E | 7.6k Lando asks his friend Carlos, an escort, to arrange an appointment with another male escort for him. Lando has never been with a man and wants to have the experience. When Pierre falls ill and has to cancel, Carlos decides to go in his stead. Only one problem, though - Carlos is in love with Lando. Will he be able to keep his emotions in check? This situation could have been awkward but Lando is nothing but sweet and kind with Carlos. The encounter results in a lot of revelations for them both, and although they seem to start the next phase of their relationship a bit backwards, they clearly have a future together.

Time doesn’t seem to be very real. Carlos thinks. He thought it would be different than this, that’s all. Different from the way it’s—happening. Because the way it’s happening feels like sex. Real sex. It doesn’t feel like work. It doesn’t feel like a transaction. It feels like—trite; cliche, of course, but—it feels like passion.

Charles/Pierre

nsfw: pièce de résistance by @capsize (copenhagenborn) | E | 14.5k Pierre, a sex worker, is approached one night by the assistant of someone calling himself Marc. Marc, it turns out, is really Prince Charles of Monaco and is looking for an arrangement. This is quite low-angst for a royalty AU (don't get me wrong, I love my angst) but this fic just has them slot together so easily. Pierre is rather happy as a sex worker, which is actually a nice change when it comes to sex work fic. The relationship side of things is slow burn and even the inevitable miscommunication part of the story is done so well I enjoyed it.

'Pierre does spend the night. He sends Charles a picture of his gateau marcel and soaks in the tub as he finishes the bottle of wine they were supposed to share. The house is predictably a mess when he gets home: George is crying on the couch with his eyes glued to the television, a small Union Jack pulled from somewhere and now proudly displayed in front of him. Alex is sitting by his feet, badly hiding his laughter as he scrolls through what Pierre can only imagine being memes. Lando is passed out in the corner, a bottle of vodka close to his hand, while Oscar stares at him with an oddly closed-off look in his eyes. Pierre isn’t quite up to date on the current geopolitical relationship between Australia and the rest of the commonwealth. Pierre sits down next to Max at the dining table, sips his water and goes, “What does it mean if someone has to be summoned after the death of dear old Lizzy?”'

nsfw: cause baby, I'd be satisfied forever by @wolfiemcwolferson | E | 88.5k Pierre, retired from racing after a career-ending injury, is closer to 40 than 30 now and has reinvented himself as a designer. He's also venturing out of the closet. He is put in touch with Charles, who gets by as a sugar baby, and decides this is a perfect way to get some experience dating another man. Pierre finds himself developing feelings for Charles. I'm at a point now with @wolfiemcwolferson fic where I just gesture wildly at whatever they've written and make vague noises but in the interests of trying to sound like the sane person I pretend to be, this fic is a perfect distillation of the Pierre/Charles relationship. What if they didn't meet until later in life? What if Charles never went beyond karting? What if the age gap was larger? All of these, and yet, it's still them. There is a "soulmates in ever universe" theme in the Piarles fandom and this story absolutely embodies it.

'He’s beautiful and he smells like cologne and something fresh and he’s still not let go of Pierre’s hand - the cool leather underneath Pierre’s hand seems so…foreign. So flipped. Pierre considers all the time he touched other people’s hands while wearing leather gloves. “I hope I am not late,” Charles smiles at him still. “I missed my train and I -” “Charles,” Pierre says, realizing that Charles seems a bit nervous - a bit ruffled. “I only just arrived. “Come and let’s go inside. We can get warm.” His smile makes his perfect face less so - a mere mortal instead of the god he is and Pierre gets it immediately.'

Charles/Sebastian

nsfw: Be Snoozing That Lust In The Morning by @sebchalex & @meova101 | E | 14.5k When Formula 1 decides to clean up their sponsors, teams are left scrambling to find money. Ferrari finds an unconventional way to get more budget – Charles starts an OnlyFans. The initial premise of Charles having to get an OnlyFans to help Ferrari is just unhinged enough that it could be real – but this fic has a lot more to offer than just comedy. The way it follows Charles personal growth from not believing he could actually make money of OF, being embarrassed when Seb subscribes, to them working together to produce record breaking content and falling for eachother in between – its like a modern day fairytale, if Cinderella had to sell nudes to help the evil stepmom with money.

"This was the only way," Charles says. "I know this could tarnish the Ferrari legacy and everything, but I want to help my team. I will do anything to make them stay on top." Once he finishes his sentence, he looks straight at Sebastian. It's already disgraceful enough that he had to do this in the first place, but this type of rejection coming from Sebastian is making him feel worse. Finally, Sebastian raises his hands in a yielding gesture. "Fine," he says, sending a breath of relief through Charles. "I still have a problem with it." "Seb, I know. I wish there was another way as well, but—" "It's not about that," Sebastian says, looking even more pissed. "Have you realised that your pictures are terrible?" Well. Charles certainly hadn’t expected that. "What?" "Charles, if you are charging that much in the first place, then you should at least put in a little bit more effort," Sebastian explains, extending his hands out. "Your lighting was horrible, and it was blurry. Why did no one offer help?"

nsfw: With you I'm in real danger by @jean----ralphio | E | 55.5k Charles, a well-known porn actor, shelters from a mob of fans by hiding in a rare books shop. The bookseller recognises him but is too considerate to say anything about it. Charles notices and they strike up a friendship, and more. Charles and Seb are from such very different worlds. Charles is accustomed to sometimes being judged for his line of work but Seb treats him with utmost respect at all times, which should be a low bar but isn't. Things get a bit rocky for them in true romance story fashion, but all is well by the end.

Sebastian feels himself go bright red, as Charles’ mischievous smile turns gleeful. “I can tell the instant I meet someone whether they know who I am or not,” he explains. “So I knew right away that you know of me.” “Ah. Sorry.” Sebastian feels foolish, guilt settling over him for not having been honest about it from the beginning.

Pierre/Yuki

nsfw: your mouth makes me reconsider where my heart lies by @yukierres | E | 10.4k Pierre, still an F1 driver, discovers a streamer who plays video games while using sex toys and is immediately fascinated (and hugely turned on). He lavishes gifts and money on the man on his screen, and finds himself falling in love with someone he hasn't even met. The guys are so well characterised. Yuki is unashamed, he loves what he does, is brilliant at it and gets well paid for it too. You can see why Pierre couldn't resist. Pierre is confused and ashamed as hell to begin with (that darned Catholic guilt again) but can't stay away. The author grows the relationship to a point where it seems inevitable that Yuki will one day feel comfortable enough meeting Pierre in real life.

"That was -" Pierre says around breaths, a laugh in his voice, disbelief in what has just happened. Yuki himself has flopped back on the bed, laptop now beside him as he lies against the pillows. His eyes are wet and pink looking, a content sheen in them. "That was something else." A pleased cat-like expression forms on his mouth. "You enjoyed that Pierre?" He says with a blissed-out face, attempting to bat his eyes temptingly at the camera before yawning tiredly, the whole face scrunching up. It is more cute than seductive in the end, but it doesn’t matter because Pierre is head over heels either way.

Daniel/Max

nsfw: chemical highs and clear blue skies by @yekoc | E | 43.5k Daniel is a porn actor, which is where he meets newbie Max. Max, along with his cats, crash on Daniel’s couch whilst they continue to shoot various scenes together. They get to know each other and get to miscommunicate on the way to comfort. The pacing of the plot was really pleasant to read, as was the dialogue. Max is flippant but also careful and cautious at the same time. Daniel is self assured and kind and perhaps a little too trusting. Both of them keep their cards close and all of it makes for a very gratifying read.

'Max laughs, just a little bit, something that in someone else you might call a giggle. Daniel hasn’t seen him laugh before. He’s seen him come—in person, and then over and over again on video that one night, which he should probably forget about really quickly. Max laughing is oddly similar; it breaks something hard about him all to pieces.'

nsfw: Fly Fast (With Broken Wings) by @mysticalbreadcollective | E | 44.2k (ongoing) Max is an escort who turned to sex work due to lack of options. Daniel is an F1 driver, and Max's first ever customer. Daniel quickly becomes obsessed with Max - but the Max that Daniel first knows is a construct - the real Max guards his feelings out of necessity and can't afford to go all in with Daniel. Daniel doesn't understand the precariousness of Max's situation, or why Max would choose to keep working and earning his own money - keeping his independence - rather than agree to become Daniel's kept man. This fic digs deeply into the power imbalance and dubious consent issues of sex work, the necessary artifice of it and the need for emotional armour and distance on the part of the worker. Daniel, sadly, proves Max right with some of his behaviour - he can be selfish and spoiled, and sometimes outright cruel. There is love on both sides, but this relationship is a minefield they each misstep in more than once.

'“You think you are saving me, but it will be someone else. And maybe they will not be so nice.” Emilian says, and oh fuck, his voice is cracking a little at the end and Daniel can’t stand it. Because Daniel knows. He knows the types of clients, can imagine them, the ones that would pay extortionate amounts of money for Emilian. He feels sick hearing Emilian’s voice shake a little, wonders how nervous Emilian has been for this. What he was expecting, who he was expecting. When the agency told him that he was meeting someone who’d pay extra for him. If Emilian had built it all up in his head what he’d be asked to do. And then to say he’d been hopeful that it had been Daniel. Shit.'

Daniel/Lando

nsfw: asunder, asunder by @ladyeggplant | E | 53.3k Lando is very socially awkward, highly intelligent and cashed up. He decides the best way to lose his virginity is to hire an escort. The progression of the relationship here from transactional to something more is not smooth. Lando really doesn’t have much of an understanding about how a relationship should work and makes a few big missteps, especially later in the story as the emotional stakes get higher. Daniel is professional and gentle as he gradually figures out exactly what Lando needs. Lando is physically inexperienced and emotionally awkward and nothing about it is easy.

Silence settles over steeping tea and half-eaten fruit, and he wishes he’d left the music on, because at least it would make this awkwardness bearable. He’s had super wealthy clients before, but none of them this young, and none of them this achingly insecure where it was practically bleeding out of them. Everyone who has ever booked him as wanted him there, obviously—it feels like Lando would rather eat glass than sit in the same room as him. Daniel clears his throat. “So, first time, huh?” Lando chokes mid sip.

Carlos/Charles

In for a penny, in for a pound by @f1-stuff | M | 7k (ongoing) Charles, smarting after being unceremoniously dumped by his girlfriend, hires an escort to take as his plus one to Arthur's wedding. A dashingly handsome man turns up to the rendezvous, and they figure out Charles checked the wrong box when he was making the appointment. He's spent the money, Carlos is easy company, so he decides to roll with it. This fic is amusing and sweet. Carlos is wonderful at his job - perceptive and empathetic and kind, and is probably way ahead in understanding of Charles's sexuality than Charles is himself.

“Charles...listen,” he says, shifting slightly in his chair. He looks self-assured and confident with one leg crossed over the other, hands loosely clasped over his knee. Charles is annoyed and jealous of him all at once. “I probably shouldn’t say this, considering why you hired me. But you are trying to prove to your ex that you aren’t sad and lonely by hiring someone to pretend to be in love with you...” The man raises his brows at him. “You do see the irony, no?” Charles scoffs, shaking his head down at his lap. But he can’t deny that this guy sort of, possibly, has a point. Great, even the escort he’s paying to not make him feel so pitiful is calling him out.

Mark/Seb

nsfw: pleaser by @alltimecharlo | E | 34.6k Seb is a student struggling to make rent, and Mark is a very successful lawyer. They enter a mutually beneficial agreement. This story is fantastic - the author characterises them both beautifully, and they are the perfect balance of sweet and hot and funny. I particularly loved Sebastian's first trip to Mark's house... A gorgeous story, with lots to love.

Mark’s sitting right there. Like, directly in front of the changing room in one of the extremely comfy-looking armchairs, his eyes latching directly onto his form once it’s revealed and lingering there so heavily that Sebastian almost feels the need to hide his entirely clothed body. The older’s green eyes flick up and down his lithe frame so intensely that Seb can feel his stomach doing flips and a burning heat instilling under his skin. It only worsens when he watches Mark’s tongue dart outwards to wet at his lips.

In order to keep this list organised we have chosen to categorise it as 'Sex Worker AUs'– note that we understand that some tropes here are not always sexual in nature nor are they always categorised as sex work. We respect any and all sex workers and non sex workers alike!