#would love some charles & tom content

[petit-papillion]

The holy trinity! I literally compared Charles to Tom in a post a few days ago.

📸 5sewis

[verstappen-cult]

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16

— 02. THE MEDDLING

PREV. PART | NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing and for the sake of the smau imola was not canceled. note: thank you sm for the love you showed the first part! once again if you see some mistakes please know that english is not my first language and i noticed them once everything was finished. if you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know! ♡

INSTAGRAM STORIES

MAY 14, 2023.

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM POST

📍 ROMA, ITALY

Liked by yourusername, lilymhe and 432,503 others

alex_albon Don’t believe anything they say, I won ⛳️

view all 3,799 comments

lilymhe i’m not gonna say anything. 🤐

user35 so it is true. they were with charles and Y/N user36 We don’t know that user37 someone working there confirmed it

charles_leclerc mate you fell like three times

user38 WE GOT THE CONFIRMATION user39 omg this makes it real user40 BUT WAS Y/N ACTUALLY THERE

user41 not his entire comment section filled with charles and Y/N fans 🙄🙄🙄

user42 PARENTS

yourusername shut up you know i won

user43 OH MY GOD OH MY GODDDD user44 i cant believe it i’m having a crisis over this user45 context pls user46 everyone’s saying they were in a double date and apparently this is the confirmation.

pierregasly thanks for (not) inviting me!!!

📍 ROMA, ITALY

Liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya and 756,223 others

yourusername i won. i have witnesses.

view all 2,498 comments

alex_albon keep saying that 🥱

yourusername SHUT UP

user47 not a single pic of charles and her together but we know they were together

user48 feeding us crumbs

user49 she looks so pretty

zendaya tom keeps saying we need to play golf when you’re back in london.

yourusername tell him i’m gonna kick his ass

landonorris you should play with people that actually knows how to play: ME

lilymhe SORRY? yourusername dw lils, i have your back

user50 i love how she’s befriending everyone

user51 thanks to alex user52 and your point is? user51 she’s using him for his fame user53 LOOOOOOL

pierregasly thanks for (not) inviting me!!!

user54 what’s more hilarious to me than this whole “double date” discourse are pierre comments on both alex and Y/N posts because they did not invite him.

Y/N & ALEX’S iMESSAGE

THURSDAY MAY 18, 2023 — PRESS CONFERENCE

charles is sitting next to lando and max, pierre next to him as alex stands in front of them. he’s aware they’re talking about what they’re expecting from this weekend, but he can’t seem to focus on what they are actually saying, only picking up pieces of the conversation. he’s too focused on his phone, the message thread he has with Y/N staring back at him. the last text he has from her is just a simple ‘cool’ after he was trying to play it cool.

“what you doing, charlie?” max asks, playfully poking him in the ribs. he immediately locks his phone, raising his head only to find that everyone is looking at him already.

“i know what he’s doing.” lando wiggles his eyebrows and charles wonders if he really needs his fingers to race. “you screwed up.”

charles knows he screwed up, and definitely doesn’t need lando reminding him the awful mistake he made for just trying not to sound too intense because, of course, he’s made that mistake in the past. and every girl he’s had something with always said the same: ‘you’re too much, charles’, ‘you’re taking things too fast, we should take a break.’ so ever since the last girl he dated, once again, said the same thing, charles promised himself he would not be that guy.

“hey,” alex has this look of pity in his eyes that he doesn’t like, not even one bit. “maybe we could do something to help you.”

“i don’t need your help.” charles’ tone is too sharp and abrupt it’s makes him feel a little bad for talking to his friends like that. but just a little.

“look, you like her, right?” pierre chimes in, but doesn’t wait for an answer. “alex is his best friend, if you want a chance with her, he’s the only one who can help you right now.”

but why does he wanna help him?

alex must see the question written all over his face because he says, “she’s dated a few assholes in the past and i really want something good for her. i trust you, charles.” he tries to look serious which only makes charles laugh. “besides, i have the perfect idea.”

ALEX’S iMESSAGE — MAY 18, 2023

INSTAGRAM POST

📍 VENICE, ITALY — MAY 19, 2023

Liked by scottyjames31, lance_stroll and 976,665 others

yourusername a few days ago i had the pleasure to celebrate two of my favorite people, Chloe and Scotty James. and spent two wonderful days filled with love and joy in the beautiful venice! so happy for you both. 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏼🩷

i wish i could stay here forever, but back to reality for now. :(

view all 7,455 comments

user55 i didn’t know she’s friends with the strolls

lance_stroll I have very embarrassing videos of you, just remember that 🍾

user56 why lance and Y/N look kinda good together

user57 That’s exactly what I was thinking. They would look pretty good as a couple user58 he has a girlfriend user59 and Y/N is probably dating charles user57 only rumors

user60 back to reality? she’s not gonna be in the paddock this weekend?

user61 why would she? nobody wants her there

user62 i thought she was in italy for the gp

user63 just a coincidence user62 still hoping she’ll be there

francisca.cgomes I’m gonna need to borrow that beautiful dress! ❤️

user63 she really knows everyone now user64 literally. she was just one time at a race and befriended everyone

user65 i feel like we’re missing something

Y/N’s iMESSAGE

SATURDAY MAY 20, 2023 — THE MISSION 007 DINNER

the second you see a head of brown hair standing at the door, you want to walk over to where alex is sitting and smash his head on the table. you made sure before arriving to the restaurant that charles was not gonna be there tonight, even lando told you he was busy with some ferrari event. obviously, both lied to you.

“hey, charles!” george, who’s standing next to you, his girlfriend carmen at your other side, waves at him. and for the first time since that fateful dinner a few days ago, you make eye contact with his bright brown eyes.

butterflies break free inside your belly, even when you try to repress everything he makes you feel.

you’ve known charles for no more than ten days but it really feels like you’ve known each other your whole life. everything is so easy with him, you can’t remember when was the last time you felt this way, if it ever happened.

you thought everything was going well between you two and, for a minute, you let yourself believe he could like you. but then he gave you the cold shoulder and everything came crashing down.

and that’s your problem. you always feel so much in so little time that when things don’t go the way you’d like, everything hurts twice as hard.

there’s no one to blame but you.

“hey,” is it possible to like the sound of his voice so much that you feel your knees going weak?

“you’re the last one to arrive. here,” george shares a look with his girlfriend that you don’t really know how to read, and both move aside. “you’re sitting here tonight. we’ll go find our seats.”

you want the earth to swallow you. you want to be in a plane far away from here because the seat george is pointing at it’s right next to yours.

before you can open your mouth to say something, the couple slips away. and suddenly it feels like you and charles are the only ones in the room.

no one says a word for what feels like hours. you’re actually trying to find a excuse to leave when charles sighs, defeated.

“i’m sorry.” his voice is almost a whisper, something only for you to hear. “i acted like an idiot.”

“yeah,” you agree because you don’t know what else to say. he did act like an idiot, ignoring you for days, not answering your texts even when you asked him if something was wrong.

“i can explain if you’d let me.”

his brown eyes bore into yours, so soft and sincere your heart skips a beat. and even if you want to say no, your whole body begs you to accept.

“let’s eat first and enjoy the evening,” his face lights up like a kid on christmas day. “then i’ll let you buy me dessert and we can talk.”

TWITTER — SUNDAY MAY 21, 2023

TAGLIST (bold means i couldn’t tag you) — @leclerc16s. @willowpains. @berrnuu. @minkyungseokie. @sassyheroneckgiant. @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir. @nessacarty1. @a1leexxa. @storminacloud. @lovstappen.

note: i hope you liked it. i’m sorry if i forgot to tag you! please let me know what you think, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. <3

[pynkhues]

I recently read an article in which Quentin Tarantino stated that fewer movie stars exist as a result of "Marvel movies in Hollywood." I think Jennifer Aniston made a similar argument before saying that there are no longer any movie stars. I'm not sure what that means. I can think of a lot of movie stars right now, such as Zendaya, Timothee Chalamet, and Zoey Deutch etc. what do you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this and Quentin's comments.

QuillBot's

Months ago, when you sent me this ask, anon, I wrote out a really long reply and as soon as I hit post, my laptop crashed and ate the answer, and I was so annoyed at myself for not saving my reply, that I couldn't bring myself to try and re-write an answer. I'm really sorry for that, especially because I think this is such an interesting ask (or well, two asks, because I think the death of the movie star and the impact Marvel's had on the broader concept of a movie star, are kinda two different things).

I've been thinking about it a bit again recently though, particularly as the Oscar race gears up, and Jacob Elordi and Charles Melton''s respective stars are rising in an industry currently desperate to find the new young Hollywood male 'talent', and I've been thinking about it again because honestly?

I agree with Jennifer Aniston, I think the movie star is dead.

We are a long, long way from Golden Age Hollywood where actors like Cary Grant and Marilyn Monroe could captivate a public imagination in a way that translated to big box office effect, after all. Hell, we're even out of New Hollywood, an era dominated by names like Al Pacino, Jack Nicholson, and Jane Fonda, and the Blockbuster era with Tom Cruise, Sylvester Stallone and Harrison Ford.

My original reply went into a lot of the different reasoning as to why this is (like with many things, I don't think there's any one reason for it), in particular how the advent of streaming has changed our relationship with films and TV shows, how the saturation of the market has diluted the staying power of celebrities, how social media and the perceived accessibility of celebrities removes personal mystique which in turn removes intrigue and increases a sense of entitlement, and the fact that so many people having stopped going to the cinema means that the experiential element of seeing a film in a setting larger than life has been diminished.

I think call out culture plays a role too, with any actor on the rise being torn down by tweets they made eight, nine or ten years ago impacting how their star rises, I think the dismantling of the studio system (which is a good thing!) also harmed actors in the long run as studios stopped investing the same resources into making and training stars (they used to be able to sing, dance and act! Now some can barely even act!), and I think, of course, the rise of prestige TV changed the industry substantially (after all, movie stars were movie stars - they traditionally did not, and would not, do TV, which created a clear class structure in terms of screen-based storytelling).

And yeah, I think the language shift from film and TV to content has done irrepairable damage to the artistry of filmmaking and the consideration of a movie star as an actor at the top of their field instead of an actor with the most Insta followers or YouTube subscribers (after all, if everything's content, isn't it the same thing? [no lol]).

Which I guess is kind of where Quentin Tarantino's argument comes in, right? What he's saying is that Marvel's made it so that the IP - the content itself - is the star, not the actor, and I'd say he's probably right with that.

Think of it this way - back in the New Hollywood/Blockbuster era, Harrison Ford was the movie star - he was leading new franchises left-right-and-centre between Star Wars and Indiana Jones, sci fi epics like Blade Runner, leading action thrillers like Patriot Games, The Fugitive and Clear and Present Danger and getting nominated for Oscars for Witness.

He was a movie star in every sense of the word because you could hinge a film - one with a new concept, not just remakes or sequels - on him and be virtually guaranteed a success. He was what sold the tickets, the director just hopefully had to make something good enough people would leave the cinema glad they saw.

Tarantino's argument is the Marvel model - - hell, even the new Star Wars properties, turned the franchise into the star, for better or worse, which means original films can't compete because nobody knows the IP. Back when Harrison Ford was at the top of his game, his name was what helped original films including smaller, standalone works like Witness find an audience, but the studios have changed that. Capitalism has changed that.

Properties with existing audiences and deep pockets for merch were prioritised, only now those franchises are faltering and you've got a generation trained that 'cinematic events' are reserved for blockbusters in established universes, instead of taking a risk on a new film because you know you love an actor who's in it.

Do I think we could go back?

Maybe, but probably not.

I think the place we are now in the history of cinema / TV / 'content' means you can't make a movie star anymore because I think the industry is simply so different that no actor can break through in the same way that even Leonardo DiCaprio could 30 years ago. That industry doesn't exist anymore, actors aren't guaranteed draws (Bones and All proved that for Timothee Chalamet, and Wonka I think could go a similar way), or they have to heavily rely on other industries to become household names which I think dilutes them as a pure 'movie star' (Zendaya's a great example of this - I like her a lot, but how many movies has she even been in? They built her career up in peripheral industries long before they tried to sell her as a movie star, and frankly, I'd question her even as a leading actress yet given she's typically only either been in ensemble casts or clear supporting).

It's a whole new world, and yeah, I think the movie star is dead.

[aphrodisicc]

hi! i'm lexi. i'm thirty, live in the est timezone, and i love to write smut! below are a list of some of my kinks, limits, and faces i like. the bolded ones are my favorites! as far as muses go, i enjoy playing most dynamics (top/bottom, dom/sub/switch) and males and females. i don't have much experience writing nonbinary muses yet, but i would love to! i do try to tag triggering things, but this is in general a blog that will contain triggering and dark content. if you would like to rp, please feel free to dm me or ask for my discord!

kinks. abusive dynamics. aftercare. age gaps. anal. begging, bdsm. biting. body worship, bondage. cockwarming. dd/lg. dom/sub. dubcon. hair pulling. impact play. incest. marking. orgasm control/denial. power differences. praise. rough sex. spanking. taboo subjects. teasing. toys. 24/7. open to most.

limits.  anything involving minors. beastiality. blood play. needles. scat. vore.

favorite femme faces.  abigail cowen. adelaide kane. adeline rudolph. adria arjona. ana de armas. arden cho. ayça ayşin turan. brittany o’grady. camila mendes. chloe bennett. danielle campbell. demet özdemir. fivel stewart. florence pugh. gemma chan. haley lu richardson. hande erçel. jamie chung. kaylee bryant. kiana madeira. lindsey morgan. laura harrier. lily james. madison bailey. madelyn cline. margot robbie. melisa pamuk. mishti rahman. naomi scott. natasha liu bordizzo. olivia holt. shay mitchell. simone ashley. summer bishil. sydney park. sydney sweeney. zendaya. zion morena.

favorite masc faces.  aaron tveit. alex fitzalan. can yaman. charles melton. charles michael davis. charlie hunnam. chris evans. garrett hedlund. henry cavill. henry golding. froy gutierrez. jacob elordi. jeffrey dean morgan. jensen ackles. jesse williams. john boyega. jon bernthal. michael trevino. michiel huisman. oliver jackson cohen. oscar isaac. pedro pascal. peter gadiot. rahul kohli. regé-jean page. richard madden. scott eastwood. sean teale. sebastian stan. taylor zakhar perez. theo james. tom hardy. tom holland. tyler posey.

favorite nb faces.  liv hewson. lizeth selene. nico tortorella.

[gffa]

hi lumi! pls don't feel pressured to answer this but i'm currently reading Phasma by delilah dawson (i'm loving it so far) and i was wondering if you would know some nice sequels' books and comics to get into (preferably the ones that delve more into the first order but anything works tbh)? I know your thing is mostly the prequels (it's more my thing too tbh) but i was wondering if you could help me or perhaps if you would know someone who could help me with it?

Hi! I actually do have a handful of sequels-centric content that I've liked! When the expanded world of SW comics and novels was first getting started, there was a lot of focus on the sequels and a lot of it was genuinely delightful and to this day I still heartily recommend them! Phasma is one of them (I loved that that book was just so joyfully batshit in exactly the way a Star Wars book should be) and my recs for other stuff you'll hopefully enjoy are:

Captain Phasma by Kelly Thompson (comic) - Gorgeous art, a solid story, and even some Feelings if you've read the Phasma novel, because it features some flashbacks from there.

Poe Dameron by Charles Soule (comic) - In addition to being one of the best SW comic runs out there, it's also a great look at Poe's character, has gorgeous art, and is just a fantastic read all the way around, I would put it at the top of my recs list.

Aftermath, Aftermath: Life Debt, Aftermath: Empire's End by Chuck Wendig (book) - I always recommend that I think this series almost MUST be in audiobook form, that I could not get into it in novel form, but the audiobooks were such a fun adventure. This does the most establishing of the galaxy after the Empire falls, it gets into several of the characters that would go on to help form the First Order. It's mostly a set of new characters (that I grew to love) and the OT characters, but I think it helps set the world a lot, so if you don't mine the lack of ST characters, it does lead into ST worldbuilding.

Bloodline by Claudia Gray (book) - Is a Leia story and is mostly about why she stops being a Senator and founds the Resistance, but it helps tell the foundation of the New Republic (along with the Aftermath trilogy) and the rising of the First Order. It's still quoted a lot for some pretty iconic Leia moments, but I think if you're looking for ST worldbuilding (as opposed to sequels characters), it's good for that, too.

Star Wars Battlefront II (game) - The story of Battlefront II is focused on the OT characters, but I like recommending it because it does a lot of great work in connecting the OT to the ST, including moments of how the First Order came to be, and has some really great Luke characterization. You can look up a "movie" version on YouTube and watch it that way!

Spark of the Resistance by Justina Ireland (book) - I hesitate to recommend this one whole-heartedly if you're not already hip-deep in SW books, because it is very referential to other SW comics/books, but I genuinely enjoyed it as connective tissue between the ST movies where it showed all the characters coming together in this fight. It was cute and charming and had some delightful moments of the main cast!

Resistance Reborn by Rebecca Roanhorse (book) - Is much in the same vein as Spark of the Resistance, it does a lot of good connective work, is a charming read, and has good focus on the main ST characters!

Age of Resistance by Tom Taylor (comic) - This was a series of one-shots focused around several main characters and they're solid, fun highlights of the characters. I remember especially enjoying the Rey and Rose ones!

Star Wars Adventures by various authors (comic) - There are two volumes of this (they rebooted the title a couple of years ago) and basically any issue that has the sequels characters is a fun read. I mean, the whole entire series tends to be really great for any era, but the sequels ones are fun--including a darling one from the first volume with Poe and Rose interaction that has forever made me pine for more team-ups with those two.

Allegiance by Ethan Stacks (comic) - A mini-series set post-TLJ where they're trying to gather allies for the Resistance and has some lovely character moments, I especially remember feeling a lot for Leia in her scenes of trying to rally people to stand up against the First Order, now knowing it was her own son leading them.

Join the Resistance by Ben Acker and Ben Blacker (book) - This is a cautious rec because it's set during the time of the Resistance, but it doesn't really have a lot to do with them or even particularly strong worldbuilding, I just REALLY FELL IN LOVE WITH THOSE KIDS over the course of the series.

Star Wars: Resistance (TV series) - This show isn't for everyone, it's much more kid-friendly and the animation doesn't do it for everyone, but I adored the characters (especially Kaz, the main character) and their main antagonist is the building First Order, as well as occasional guest appearances by Phasma or Kylo Ren. It had a lot of heart, it was really charming, but it's a cautious rec despite that I loved it very much.

Hopefully, this should help you find some stuff to read!

[camillafanfiction]

Love changes everything - Chapter 9

03.12.1975, Buckingham Palace

“I don’t see any use in this, Philip!,” Queen Elizabeth said firmly, her eyes on her husband, and put her china cup down. “Why should we send him away again? He has just settled in so nicely again. He seems to be very content these days and, dare I say it, it makes me rather happy to see.”  

The middle-aged duke crinkled his nose, he wasn’t quite used to getting backchats from his wife. “He’s still a sissy,” he stated harshly, showing as less affection for his eldest son as he had. “Dickie and I just think it’d be best - for him and the country, Elizabeth.”

“Oh right, Dickie again!” Elizabeth’s face darkened. She knew of her husband’s close relationship with his uncle and the particular affection Lord Mountbatten seemed to hold for her son Charles - and vice versa. She herself, like her mother, had never thought as highly of him as her husband and didn’t quite get what Charles saw in him. “Don’t you think he has had enough participation in his upbringing? For God’s sake, Charles is 27!” The Queen felt a rather unknown anger in her chest and, though she usually was very composed, felt like she had to express it. Why did everyone from her mother to her husband’s uncle think they had a right to decide what to do with her son? She was his mother after all - not the mother she had hoped to be, but still. Charles had just turned 27, he was a good-looking, clever young man with amazing ideas and thoughts, though she didn’t always understand him, and in her opinion he had a right to decide what he wanted to do next - in the limited aspects that were possible.

“Yet he acts like a child. He’s a dreamer, Elizabeth!,” the Duke of Edinburgh fumed. “He needs guidance and strong men around him. Two or three more years in the navy will do wonders.”

“He is not like you, Philip!” The monarch stood up from her chair and put her hands on the table. “I’m sorry you couldn’t be in the navy for as long as you’d hoped to be because of me. But don’t push Charles into this, he’s his own person. He has plans on his own and I am proud of the man he has become, Philip.” Her voice had become sharper with every word.

Philip grinned, he liked the fire that arose in his wife. “You’re being fierce today, Lilibet.” He moved towards her to kiss her, but she moved away.

“You and your uncle won’t do anything without mine or Charles’ approval,” the Queen stated firmly and with that walked towards the door without another glance at her husband. To say she was angry would be an understatement. 

“Your mother wants it, too, Elizabeth,” Philip called after her. It felt like a dagger stabbed into her heart.

X

05.12.1975

Charles had gotten his way and had convinced Camilla to go to a musical show with him. Charles had decided on “Thomas and the King”, though the reviews weren’t quite that good, but he thought he’d give it a go.

She had left Tom with a nanny, though it had broken her heart a little bit, and felt nice all glammed up with a bit of makeup on and in a sparkly black dress. They had arrived separately and left through the back entrance - it had been her condition - but had sat next to each other throughout the show. To her very surprise, nobody seemed to have noticed Charles and so she really enjoyed the night out. Neither she nor Charles had quite understood the negative reviews about the show, it seemed quite entertaining to both of them, but then again maybe it was just the thrill of being out and about together. Deep down her soul Camilla felt some issues about going out so soon after Andrew’s death, but she tried to push away that uneasy feeling and to focus on having a baby-free night instead.

Camilla had actually planned on going to her parents’ London flat, but Charles had insisted on taking her to his Buckingham Palace apartments. Though she had been there before, Camilla felt uneasy about going there. She’d last been there shortly after her marriage to Andrew and the situation had, of course, been tense. Charles had been on a furlough and she’d just wanted to meet with him briefly to talk about the things that had happened between them. She’d been too much in love with Andrew to realise what her heart had told her about Charles even back then…

But now it was different. They sat side by side in an understated Vauxhall Fierenza and held hands in a restrained manner all the way from Her Majesty’s theatre to Buckingham Palace. Eagerly Charles had promised there were no strings attached to her accompanying him to his home and that he’d bring her to her parents‘ flat any time should she wish for it. Tomorrow morning she’d return to Bolehyde Manor anyway before he‘d join her on Saturday evening and on Sunday. Camilla didn’t want the nanny to see her with the prince and Charles himself had things on his mind he didn’t want to bother his beloved with.

He’d have some meetings with Trevor, his loyal private secretary, while Camilla would do the two-hours drive back home. In fact, Trevor had saved him and his plans, at least as far as he was concerned. Trevor was well connected throughout the several royal households and, even if by coincidence, had heard of the phone call between the Queen Mother and Lord Mountbatten back in mid-November. Within the wink of an eye he’d taken action and informed the prince about it. His master, of course, had fumed with anger about the ambush of the two people in his family he thought he could trust. But together with Trevor and the unsuspected help from his sister Anne, he’d kept cool and formed out a plan.

Charles had made a step he’d never really thought he‘d take: he had talked to his mother. He had told her about his charitable plans – a project he had in mind for quite some time now, but had only ever talked about with Camilla -, his role in the family as a working member and that he had plans to settle down in the not too distant future. He hadn’t given any more details, just that, and, due to Trevor’s advice, had also left out the uncomely story that Uncle Dickie and his grandmother had teamed up against him. The Queen had seemed to be very pleased with the outcome of the conversation with her heir, had lauded him and, very unusual for her, had given him a tight slightly awkward hug.

Seemingly, the plan had turned out to be good since, according to Trevor - who really had his eyes and ears everywhere in the palace -, his mother had spoken up for him on this matter against his dreaded father. There surely would be more talks to come but as of now Charles thought himself in safe waters.

“It’s strange to be here again,“ Camila said as they entered the apartments at Buckingham Palace. “You have refurbished quite a bit, haven’t you?“ she remarked as her eyes wandered around and Charles nodded, only having eyes for her.

She looked to die for in her black, flowy dress and with her lips coloured in a shade of red that almost was way more than he could bear. And though she had only used little eyeliner and mascara her eyes looked deeper and more blue than ever.

With a small sigh of relief Camilla got out of her court shoes. “I wonder how some women can walk around in these things all day…,“ she shrugged apologetically and gave Charles a smile that almost made him swoon.

“I can carry you to the sofa if your feet won’t walk anymore,“ Charles smirked and attempted to pick her up, but she squealed and hit him softly.

“Idiot!“, she laughed. “I can walk perfectly well, thank you very much.“ Though still laughing, she leaned towards him to kiss him. All of a sudden she was very aware of his hands on her hips, holding her tightly. It felt good and safe and the kisses he returned were so tender and sweet that she thought she might melt in hands. They had kissed like that before, innocently and lovingly, but this felt different and she didn’t know why. “Please carry me to the sofa,“ Camilla heard herself saying with a voice that was far sexier than she’d intended it to be, not quite sure where it was coming from.

Charles felt like dreaming when he lifted her up with ease and carried her like the treasure she was to him. Her scent was intoxicating and her deep blue eyes pierced through his marrow and bone. He was obsessed with her. Utterly, willingly and wonderfully so.

Camilla wasn’t sure if it had been by intention or if it was just something that had happened when she found herself on the princely bed instead of on his sofa, but decided to push that thought away. Charles thought of himself as a gentleman and though he could be very naughty he usually acted like one. She just wanted to kiss her favourite little prince again, she wanted to feel him close to her again. Charles made her feel so loved, so wanted – she could easily get lost in his caressings, in his susurrated words and his sweet whispered nothings. Yet she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it mentally. A mere 8 weeks had passed since everything changed, but being with Charles just felt so right, his body on top of her’s and kissing fiercely felt so right.

“I love you so much,“ he breathed against her mouth before trailing light kisses from her chin down to her neck. He wanted her, but he didn’t know how far he could go. Of course, he had heard her quiet moans, but… 

Camilla untucked his bow tie and with her delicate hands opened the first few buttons of his shirt. Her fingertips touched his chest and Charles was electrified.

“Do you have something here?“ she asked, her blue eyes almost glowing in the dimmed light. “A condom,“ she specified with a kiss when she saw his confused face. They weren’t quite down to it yet, obviously, but she wanted to be sure before they got lost and it’d be too late.

“I…,” Charles stuttered, his mind swamped by these simple words. “I… yes!”. He couldn’t recall having ever used condoms with her, but it didn’t matter now. He had some and they were near, so he kissed her quickly before he rolled to the side and fished them out of the bedside table. Then his mouth was on hers again and this time, both of them knew there would be no turning back. There were no walls this time, Camilla had blocked all the small doubts that had previously stopped her. Their bodies wrapped together as Charles tenderly tried to get her dress off with shaking hands while Camilla tried to get rid of his shirt.

As more clothes came off, Charles couldn’t stop marvelling at her beautiful body. It had slightly changed since he’d last seen her naked, but she’d only become more beautiful. He wanted to savour each moment, every little part of her body but at the same time he just wanted her completely. 

Camilla’s mind swirled, Charles took her breath away with every kiss on all the right parts of her body, with every breathy word, with the endless respect and love he showed towards her. Their bodies just seemed to click like they’d done from the first day on. Charles bedded her on clouds and, indeed, as their bodies became one it was as if heaven had opened up for both of them. It was wonderful to be loved like that, to be worshipped and adored like that. Camilla realised just now how much she’d been missing this boundless love the past three years. And when she looked into his eyes, she could see without a doubt that Charles loved her more than anything else in the world, that she was his salvation, the same way that he was hers. 

[bride-of-dracaenca]

First of all: thank you so much to those who made nice comments about the first part of this list (right over here)! I’m glad some people enjoyed my nostalgic rambling, but much more importantly, I loved hearing your thoughts, too! I would see other fans’ own lists, so much.

So without further ado, here is the rest of:

MY TOP TEN BRINKY MOMENTS (FROM THE 1990s): #3-1

(Content warning for one kind of bad word below, and worse, I vaguely mention Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue which...shudders.)

I remember Tom Ruegger and Peter Hastings, probably the most influential voices in creating Pinky and the Brain, saying something to the effect of, “It goes there sometimes, but we didn’t want to just do the old ‘a jerk and an idiot’ story,” several times. Although I’m actually a big fan of Abbot and Costello, Laurel and Hardy, etc. and the “Vaudeville Comic Duo” thing is indisputably the kernel this franchise grew around, in my opinion, it was deliberately grown into something more.

A while ago, I listened to an Animanicast where one of the PatB Spin-Off writers (Charles M. Howell) mentioned that he thought that Pinky and the Brain were more complex as characters than the old vaudeville duos, and even said he was getting teary-eyed thinking about the characters because they made him emotional. It’s been a while, but I remember hearing another story where one of the spin-off’s writers recounting talking to an executive with a fellow writer about the characters. Supposedly he was saying, “These two mice…they’re REAL,” and he joked that they thought the guy was maybe uuuh losing it, but said actually, he understood what he meant.

I think that’s probably why most of the Brinky moments I hold dear and remembered through the decades came from the spin-off. The og Animaniacs skits were very funny and cute, and my absolute favorite thing about them was their classic Looney Tunes short tone and sensibility. Still, their spin-off is really where the true humanity of the characters and their relationship was able to develop.

…okay, I know what I sound like, here. I don’t actually think that the show was some brilliant work of high art or anything. There are many weaknesses, it was silly and inconsistent (sometimes very much on purpose, sometimes not), it had a famously troubled production with the network not truly valuing it making these things less surprising, blah blah blah, etc. Still, all I’m saying, as I said in part one of this list, is here are the characters being more complex and unique than people might expect or than many people (including me!) usually remember.

More importantly, here’s their relationship being different than people would expect or are likely to remember, and deeper, too.

#3: “The Pink Candidate” and “Inherit the Wheeze” – Pinky Stands Up to Brain

TL;DR below, but a summary: Once the mice get fleshed out as characters, if Pinky has a problem with something that Brain says or does, he just tells him. If he doesn’t want to go along with something, he just doesn’t. Brain doesn’t attempt to “make” him, and he wouldn’t be able to, anyway.

This might seem like a strange choice. Also, full disclosure: this part is much, much more about “The Pink Candidate” just because it was (in my opinion) the much better episode over “Inherit the Wheeze,” and also because American Drug PSAs from this period in general have…real-world related issues imo. Still.

(As far as I’m concerned, above didn’t happen and was just a bad dream.)

I thought back to these when I was trying to figure out why I never really thought of Pinky/Brain as an unequal relationship, at least not in the particular way I think it might been seen as sometimes. Again, they have massive, massive issues; I think these are so obvious there’s not much purpose to my pointing them out, even. But what’s more surprising is that, even though Brain doesn’t seem to either realize or want to acknowledge this, they actually really are PARTNERS, in my opinion. At least, once their characters are properly fleshed out.

This is more depth than they had at first, while their characters were still being worked out; while it’s a great short with amazing animation, “Brain Meets Brawn” is an example of an early story where the dynamic between the two mice is more “just what you’d expect,” and I’ll be honest with you here, there are a few nice moments in the short that are big exceptions but I mostly just don’t like it! “It” being the dynamic between the mice in the short; I very, very much enjoy the short itself – just not the core relationship in it, mostly.

This brings me back to little summary I wrote before rambling. They’re partners. Brain isn’t forcing Pinky to help him take over the world. Brain wouldn’t even be able to!

“The Pink Candidate” is a really great episode for Pinky’s character, and I could go on and on about it. But it actually shows some of the nuance of Brain’s character, too, which is why put together, it shows some of the nuance in the RELATIONSHIP. I just re-watched it and was again really struck: Pinky’s even less of a frivolous doormat than I remembered, and Brain is even less dismissive or pushy. And this depth doesn’t sacrifice the show’s humor; in my opinion it’s a funny ep. – just that fact that Brain ends up on trial partly because he’s in the Splash Zone of Bil Keane’s Campaign of Vengeance against Pinky for saying that The Family Circus isn’t funny, and that that’s a REAL plot point, sends me.

By the way, Pinky’s right: The Family Circus isn’t funny. ANYWAY.

Pinky stands up to Brain (despite actually CRYING during this scene) and gives well-reasoned points for doing so. This is my favorite take on Pinky: both more aware and, yes, “intelligent” than one would think, but also genuinely a good person. One of the reasons he supports Brain’s efforts is because he thinks that Brain’s leadership genuinely would be “what’s best for the world.” If that changes, he doesn’t stop supporting Brain as a PERSON, because he loves him. But he does stop supporting his actions and he stands up to them and says exactly why.

Brain’s actions in this episode get a “condemning with faint praise” framing from me here, but actually, it really does show how different he is here from a shallow archetype. For starters the principles that Pinky gives as reasons to stand up to Brain are ones that Brain just taught him, and Brain seems to genuinely believe in them, even if he’s not practicing them. Brain actually concedes Pinky’s two points to him in their argument scene, and sincerely (if…”wackily” and not very well) tries to address Pinky’s concerns. Obviously, his idea that an absolute authoritarian dictatorship is compatible with democracy is either hilarious or scary depending on the tone of a story, but well, delusional as he is, Brain genuinely seems to think so. Brain’s response, which is basically to have a tantrum and storm off, also isn’t commendable, but by Looney Tunes standards might be downright constrained. He doesn’t belittle, threaten, lie to, or insult Pinky here. He just tells him honestly that he’s going to do it alone and walks away. That’s it.

Of course, Pinky is going to choose Brain’s friendship over the Presidency, just by itself. But again, I like how Pinky’s reasoning here is actually deeper than even just that. Pinky mentions (to the Abe Lincoln statue, lol) that Pinky is only President because of Brain. If Pinky did what they wanted him to, and claimed to not know anything about their “Take Over the World” schemes, it would be an outright lie. Pinky is only President because he knowingly was a part of one of those schemes.

Pinky’s scene in court is also great. “I take full accountability for everything that happens in my administration.” Ironically, Pinky is impeached for doing exactly what a President SHOULD do in this situation.

The little interaction between them in the courtroom scene is nice and telling. When Pinky starts to talk, Brain shouts, “Pinky, NO!” Again, you might expect him to have blamed (or at least implicated) Pinky already or want to be saved here, but he’d rather go down alone. He doesn’t want Pinky to be impacted or take any of the blame. And again I can’t stop thinking about how, though Brain is at fault for Trying to Take Over the World TM, in some ways he’s taking the fall for Pinky here because this happened because Bil Keane wanted revenge against PINKY, and again I’m sorry but The Family Circus really isn’t funny.

Pinky also responds by cutting Brain off with, “Brain, let me handle this,” which shuts Brain right up. I often think of this when people think that Pinky just had no power or say in the relationship. Pinky has lots of issues (including with standing up for himself at times), and they and his strengths are inconsistent in this comedy cartoon. But Pinky CAN advocate for himself and he CAN take charge sometimes. I mean yeah, it’s easier when you’re the President, but this is only one of the times that Pinky puts his foot down or steps up, and Brain listens to him or follows his lead.

(One other thing is Pinky is just…weird /pos. So much that others would find insufferable, he either doesn’t mind or loves, so he wouldn’t want or need to put his foot down about it.)

“Inherit the Wheeze” might be more notable in showing just how much Brain actually does value Pinky’s opinion, despite claiming otherwise: Brain actually calls off the whole plan there, and a big part of it is Pinky’s words. While he doesn’t do that in “The Pink Candidate,” the episode actually ends with Brain thanking Pinky for standing up to him, and reminding him of principles he actually does value, even if he’s incredibly, comically bad at putting them into practice (cue “What are we gonna do tomorrow night?” joke at the end).

Anyway, I could go on and on, but the point here is:

The Family Circus is not funny.

#2: “A Pinky and the Brain Halloween” – Pretty Much the Whole Thing. There.

After rambling on and on too long about the last “moment,” this one is going to be short because it’s just so straightforward. The whole episode almost feels like it’s been written to just say, in big, bold letters:

BRAIN CARES ABOUT PINKY MORE THAN HE CARES ABOUT TAKING OVER THE WORLD.

This episode just makes that incredibly clear-cut. He chooses Pinky outright over, not just losing control of the world (again, he is ACTUALLY ACTIVELY RULING THE WORLD in this episode, and he gives that up), but EVER trying to take over the world again. I think Brain has an “I can do it myself!” attitude towards taking over the world that both seems kind of admirable (see him turning down the Devi-Walt Disney, and ripping up his contract right in front of him!) and also…actually kinda also isn’t, when you think about it (more massive ego stuff at work there), and I could almost see him giving up rulership for that. So he can say he wasn’t just literally handed the world.

But it’s not JUST that that Brain is willing to sacrifice for Pinky, it’s his entire dream, and his supposed goal in life and reason for living.

It's everything.

Brain is also willing to brave He-HADES in the first place. The fact that he briefly is selfish and doesn’t rush to Pinky’s rescue immediately, again, is part of how he’s still extremely flawed in this episode; Pinky made the deal he made, in part, because Brain literally, callously called him worthless. That’s really horrible, but the sheer lengths he goes to for Pinky here show why Brain is a complex (and, imo, pretty great, all things considered) character in the spin-off. It shows how much Brain cares and can demonstrate it through his actions, he just can’t bring himself to say it out loud.

Oh yeah, Pinky also sells his soul to the Devi-Walt Disney here, and that’s NOT because he was tricked. It’s because he thinks it’s a fair trade. ☹

He thinks it’s worth it to give his best friend in the world what he wants. It’s both heartwarming and sad, like so many things about Pinky. But the end is happy: Brain shows through his actions here that Pinky’s reasoning makes no sense.

What Brain really wants is HIM.

;_;

#1: “A Pinky and the Brain Christmas” – “Dear Santa, hello, hah hah, narf...”

I know I know how shocking and original, what a surprise. OK.

So I’ve often thought that if EVERY episode of Pinky and the Brain exploded except for the Christmas special and “Bubba Bo Bob Brain,” I’d be just fine. And if I had to choose between the two, it’d obviously be this one. And honestly, kind of…yeah. If this entire franchise was nothing but a beloved, perennial family Christmas special classic and fond childhood memory that also won a flipping Emmy, I’d still love it. And pretty much, yeah.

It's all about the ending.

I don’t know what I could say about That Scene (plus the coda, where Pinky gives Brain the world ;_; ;_;) that hasn’t already been said. The performances by both Rob Paulsen and Maurice LaMarche here are brilliant, the score is excellent, and of course the rightfully famous Tokyo Movie Shinsha Co., Ltd., animation is AMAZING. Those camera shots, those pans, those tears!

LaMarche’s delivery of “I don’t care about your STUPID LETTER!” is a great moment where the show really clearly and effectively shows the difference between the mice’s for the purposes of comedy vaudeville duo banter and Brain actually being way over the line. He sounds vicious and cruel there, and it’s not funny at all.

Despite that, I always think of what Brain does in this episode. He’s actually ruling the world, albeit for a brief time, here. He has everybody in the world under his control, in part due to the Christmas special rule that for the special’s purposes everybody in the world celebrates Christmas, but anyway.

But all his does with it is to make everybody genuinely happy, while getting nothing back for himself. Not even acknowledgement. People don’t even know that Brain is why they feel like having a Merry Christmas. They just do.

In this one moment, Brain proves that he can be who Pinky believes him to be.  Pinky just described him as this in his letter: someone who “only wants what’s best for the world.” In this one moment, he gives the world a very happy holiday, without getting anything for himself. He made the world a better place.

And it’s all because of Pinky.

As for Pinky’s character in this episode, there I really don’t know how to express what hasn’t already been said. This is part of what makes Pinky one of my favorite characters of all time, why I even think of him as one of the “best,” instead of just the amusing but unthinking sidekick he could have been, instead. Pinky’s letter is really quite eloquent and insightful – and well written! It shows again his utter selflessness, but also his awareness of what’s going on.

And Pinky’s not even crying because he’s mad at Brain, it’s because he’s upset with himself for not getting his letter to Santa Claus. ☹

This whole scene could easily have fallen flat. But the fact that Pinky and Brain get fleshed out into “not JUST an idiot, not JUST a jerk” is what makes this, and the other moments on this list, work for me. If they were that simple, Pinky wouldn’t have been able to write such a letter in the first place, and Brain wouldn’t have cared about it except to think it was stupid.

It’s the way that their relationship follows by not just being “jerk leader and idiot sidekick” who don’t care about, or even hate, each other like people generally expect.

Instead, they love each other. In their own way, they are a family. They come to understand each other very well. They are well aware of each other’s flaws; though Brain is absurdly overly critical and condescending about it, while Pinky wears massively thick rose-colored glasses, even Pinky can be brutally honest with Brain about his flaws (from “Hoop Schemes,” basically - Brain says, “I’m sorry I was such a jerk,” and Pinky says casually, “That’s okay, Brain. I’m used to it.”). But both of them see the good in each other, too. ( “Lets just say that your extra jumbo sized heart more than makes up for your little free sample sized mind,” a jerky way to say it? Yes. Brain’s crummy, tsundere, socially incompetent way of saying he knows that Pinky’s pretty great? Also yes.) They care each other, anyway.

That this scene works at all shows how the mice and their relationship have been expanded into something more touching and human – the heart of the show.

[camaro-and-smokes]

Pretty (wo)man

Chapter 11: Monster out of my head

Tags for this chapter: Some fluff, bad omens. See rating, warnings and other tags for the whole fic on AO3. General warning: This work as a whole includes themes related to and mentions of prostitution, sex work, and sexual abuse. I will add tags with every new chapter and notes when anything particularly nasty is being depicted, but if this kind of content isn't your cup of tea to begin with, please move on. Consider yourself warned.

Read other chapters on Tumblr >> / Read on AO3 >>

Moodboard by the talented @a-redharlequin (who's taking commissions btw)

Summary: Wedding party time. Everything was perfect: sweet revenge on Amanda, good food, even better company. But beneath all the perfection lay an ugly truth.

::::::::::

The sun was already saying its goodbyes to the day and melting into the horizon when Billy and Steve arrived at the front deck of the ship. The other guests had already arrived, the men in their finest suits and the women in elegant gowns, all of them chatting among themselves in anticipation of the upcoming ceremony.

Billy could feel everyone’s eyes on him, just like on their first night on the ship. The difference was that on the first night he’d been an actor on a stage, tonight he was himself. The change felt good.

They sat down at their table and Billy scanned around at the people, smiled widely at Heather, who grinned back at him, and then he turned his gaze up at the string of lights that lit the front deck of the ship. He smiled, and moved his gaze down at the captain of the ship, who was already standing in the ship's front, ready to wed Amanda and Tom as soon as they would arrive. Then his eyes landed on Charles Hamil, glaring straight at Billy.

Billy’s smile vanished, and he looked away quickly, taking a deep breath.

Steve leaned closer to him. “Everything okay?” he asked.

Billy swallowed and glanced at Steve, seeing him genuinely concerned. “I’m fine. I’ll survive.”

Steve raised Billy’s hand on his lips and placed a kiss on his knuckles. “You’re safe, I’m here, baby.”

As strange as it felt, Steve’s words made him feel a little more at ease. “Yes, you are,” he whispered and squeezed Steve’s hand a little tighter. Just one more night. He could pull this through.

The sound of the ship's horn broke the moment, signalling the sun vanishing behind the horizon and the wedding ceremony to start. Everyone looked to the doors of the deck and soon Tom and Amanda came out.

Tom was wearing a dapper suit, and Amanda was wearing an elegant white silk gown. Exactly something you’d expect from two young, wealthy and beautiful people.

The ceremony was brief, just a few words from the captain in addition to the vows and the other mandatory parts. Tom was moved by Amanda’s words, but Amanda kept glancing in Steve’s and Billy’s general direction throughout Tom’s emotional declaration of love where he promised her the sky and the moon and all the stars.

To Billy's surprise, he felt jealous of her. He had never felt a need to commit to anyone like that. Not that he’d had anyone he could’ve even considered committing that way, either. But over the last week, something had shifted and now he didn't find the idea of committing to someone like that so bad. Apparently, it was a question of the person to commit to being the right one.

Billy looked at Amanda, who was scanning the room as she walked towards the front and smiling at the guests. Her smile didn’t falter until she saw him. Her gaze bored into his neck, seeing the emeralds laying on his collarbones, then in his ears, before she looked at him in the eyes. Billy placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder and leaned closer to him while smiling at her with a smile that told her without words sorry girl, your trash turned out to be my treasure.

Steve must’ve noticed Amanda’s gaze, since he wrapped his arm around Billy’s shoulders and gave a peck on his cheek. “Mission accomplished,” he murmured into Billy’s ear.

While listening to Tom’s vow, Billy felt bad for the man and leaned in to whisper to Steve quietly, “Do you think it’s necessary to tell him tonight how bad Amanda is?”

Steve glanced at Billy and squeezed his arm a little tighter around Billy’s shoulders. “Do you want me to leave it be?” he whispered in return.

“Him marrying her sounds like a punishment enough, wouldn’t you say?” Billy asked in return, his eyes on the couple.

Steve’s gaze rested on Billy’s profile while he waited for Billy to register his words. The curl on his forehead, the long lashes, the curve of his nose...the way his lips parted a little before he turned to look at Steve when his words finally hit home. The smile that spread on Billy’s face was infectious, and Steve smiled in return. “Your word is my command. Besides, he’ll learn, eventually.”

Once the wedding rings had been exchanged, the party started. The catering staff brought the food to the tables and drinks were flowing freely from a bar at the back of the deck. Not soon after, the guests were dancing and laughing as waiters passed by with trays of snacks and drinks. Steve grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to Billy. “Shall we have a one more?” he asked with a smile.

Billy took the glass, clinking it against Steve’s before taking a sip. “Let’s make this evening special.”

Steve leaned in and whispered, "Every moment with you is special."

Billy felt the warm fuzziness again grow in his chest and couldn't help a smile spreading on his face. He couldn't have imagined how perfect the evening was. The food was great, and the company was even better. The way Steve fed him the wedding cake way too slowly, trying not to mess his makeup or the dress. The way Steve's fingers lingered maybe a moment too long on his lips. The way he licked the cream from Steve's fingers, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"People are staring," Steve said, letting out a laugh.

Billy looked at him with a lopsided grin. "As if I'm the only one to blame for that."

"No, you're not," Steve agreed, placing his hand on Billy's thigh under the table and brushing the inside of it gently.

Billy's breath hitched. "Tease," he smiled.

Steve slowly gathered the hem of the dress up, up, up, and Billy's insides responded to it immediately. "Here?" Billy asked, swallowing hard.

Steve leaned in and whispered, "Where else?"

The hem was finally all up and Steve pushed his hand underneath, creeping slowly closer to Billy's groin.

“I didn't think you would’ve had this in you,” Billy whimpered quietly as Steve's fingers reached their destination.

Steve cleared his throat. “And I didn't think you'd go full commando with the dress.”

Billy bit his lip as Steve grabbed his testicles in his hand and squeezed them gently.

“Please,” Billy pleaded with a whine.

“See, who's hot and bothered now?”

“If you don't stop, we're going to have to take this somewhere else,” Billy said through his teeth. “And it's still early.”

“Okay, okay,” he said with a small laugh, and pulled his hand away. “Maybe another dance, then?”

“Not in a million years,” Billy laughed, trying to think all the thoughts that would get his boner to settle down.

“Maybe a bit later, then?”

“Definitely. Could you please be so kind and get me another glass of champagne? I need to calm down...my nerves.”

Steve chuckled and got up, smirking. “Sure.”

The phone in Steve's pocket buzzed when he was taking the full champagne glass from the waiter. He took the glass to Billy and pulled out his phone. "Let me check this quickly."

Billy pouted dramatically, pushing his lower lip out. "We’ve been together only for a short while and your phone is already more important than me," he said, mock-offended.

"Shit," Steve said when he saw Tommy’s name on the screen. He looked up at Billy. "I have to take this. It's really important. But I make sure it's quick and then I'll come right back, okay? We'll dance the rest of the night together." He leaned closer to Billy and gave a peck on his cheek. "On the dance floor or somewhere else," he whispered. Billy blushed and Steve swore to god he would never tire of making a blush raising like that on the cheeks of someone who had done dirty deeds for living. “This won’t take long. It’s just some info I asked for as quickly as possible, so I have to take this.”

“Fine. But no more calls tonight after this, you hear me?”

“I promise,” Steve smiled and left.

-oOo-

Steve had reached the side deck and was out of earshot of the party, about to answer the call when someone called his name.

“Steve! You asshole!”

Steve rolled his eyes when he recognized Amanda’s voice. He turned around reluctantly. “I don’t have time for your bullshit right now,” Steve said and waved the still ringing phone in his hand.

“Those were my stones! Mine!” she yelled.

“No, they were never yours. Not really," Steve said calmly.

“You promised you’d never give them to anyone else!”

Steve just shook his head. “You were the one who left. You. I found someone else who I wanted to give them to, someone who deserves them”

“A man, Steve! A man is worth them? I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I know that it’s not that cheap son of a bitch who’s worth them!” she screamed.

“Wow!" Steve said and raised his hand in placative gesture. "Listen, you just got married to someone else. What I do with my things and who I’m with is none of your concern.” Steve was already turning away when pettiness got the better of him, and he turned back. “They’re real, by the way.”

If Amanda had been annoyed so far, now her expression twisted into a grimace, and she slapped Steve’s cheek, hard.

“Hey!” Steve yelped and held his cheek. “You made your bed, now sleep in it!” he yelled and turned around. As he walked towards the stern deck to call Tommy back, he could hear less and less of Amanda's sobs.

Heather got up, and Billy was left alone at the table. He looked at the guests dancing and talking and looked up into the sky, seeing a few bright stars twinkling. Who would’ve guessed that he’d find himself in a place like this…

Billy looked after Steve until he vanished to the side deck. After a while, he got up, his boner now settled down a little, and visited the men's room. When he returned, he picked up his drink from the table and walked to Heather, who was sitting alone, sipping a margarita. “May I?” he asked, pointing at the empty chair next to her.

Heather patted the chair with a smile. When Billy sat down, she leaned on his shoulder and whispered, “You have any idea what seeing those stones on you did to Amanda. It wrecked her. Poor Tom had no idea why she was so upset until I told him. Now he, too, is pissed off at both of you.” She smirked. “It amuses me probably almost as much as it does you two.”

Billy laughed. “I honestly didn’t know about them before Steve showed them to me in the cabin. He isn’t inherently cruel, but that idea was all his. He’d planned on it from the moment Charles invited him to this party.”

“I’m not gonna lie, she deserved it,” Heather said and raised her glass and they clinked their glasses together. “So, are you doing any better? I mean, from yesterday?” she asked.

“I am. It was just a migraine yesterday.”

“That’s good. I was afraid that there were some dark clouds above you two.”

“What do you mean?”

“That maybe you had a brawl or something and that you’d broken up.”

Billy smiled at his drink. “I think we’re doing better than before, actually. As in, loads better.”

She smirked. “Yeah, I can tell. Steve can’t keep his hands off of you. I’ve never seen him like that before. Honestly. You really are special to him.”

“He’s special to me too, like no one before,” he replied and looked again at the opening of the side deck wistfully, hoping Steve would return soon. Even though he must’ve been gone for just five minutes.

“I’m glad you two found each other. You both deserve to be happy,” she said, smiling. Then she got up. “I’m going to have another. You need a refill?”

“No, I’m good,” Billy replied and raised his glass that was still half-full and emptied it. “I’m good.”

-oOo-

-oOo-

Steve rubbed his still stinging cheek still when Tommy finally picked up. “What did you find out?” Steve said not bothering to wait for a hello.

Tommy didn’t waste a breath, either. “Some serious shit you've gotten yourself into, Harrington. I thought I wouldn’t find anything but, man...”

“Go on.”

“Are you sure you want to hear? I mean, I’ve seen things, but even I’m disturbed by this.”

Steve felt his stomach flip. “Yes. I want to hear everything.”

“Dude. Umm...your friend who survived? Tell him I’m seriously sorry and that I’m happy that he survived.” He was quiet for a while. “And I won’t charge you for this. If you get this guy off the street...I’ll come and finish him with you. On the house.”

Steve was getting impatient. “Hagan. Just tell me.”

“Okay, so there’s a private hospital about fifty miles south of Chicago. It’s one of those luxury hospitals that provides all services one could need from one place if you have the money. And get this: they have a separate intensive care unit that guarantees privacy. None of the patients in the ICU or their visitors know else is there. Everything’s private, soundproofed rooms, entries, patios for exercising. Everything.”

“Right. Well, keep going,” Steve said, frustrated as he leaned onto the railing and looked out into the horizon that still showed hints of turquoise.

“Over the last four years, there’s been seven patients who have come in with the kinds of wounds and bruises you described.”

“How did you learn all this?”

“I have my sources. They heard a member of the staff talking about one case that was extremely brutal. Based on the description, the patient might’ve been your friend. So, anyway…”

Billy thought of everything that had happened in such a short time. From meeting Steve for the first time, falling in love like a fool with him, a client, and to so many other firsts he’d experienced over the last few weeks.

And now, here, tonight he thought it wouldn’t be so bad if Steve would be around even after the cruise was over. Or maybe for forever. He felt nauseous and reminded himself what he was. Nothing like that could be an option. They were from different worlds, and that was what they would forever be. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath to help him fight the tears that prickled under his skin.

Only that the nauseous feeling seemed to get worse with each breath he took. He rubbed his forehead. He hadn’t really drank that much, but maybe it was the champagne, he hadn’t drunk that for years. Not since that faithful night… He tried to look for Steve, but he didn’t see him anywhere. He was probably still on the phone.

He tried to stand up, and the world took a quick spin in his eyes, so he had to sit back down. Jesus Christ, I’m more drunk than I thought I was, he thought. He felt light-headed, and rubbed his forehead again. All the sounds and lights around him melted into each other in his head.

Heather touched his shoulder. “Billy? Are you okay?”

“No. I started to feel sick and dizzy suddenly. Can you see Steve anywhere?”

Heather looked around and then shook her head. “I think he’s still occupied. Do you want me to go find him?”

“No, don’t. He said it’s going to be a brief call, anyway. But I think I have to go to rest for a while,” Billy said. “Could you help me up?” He took off his pumps and when Heather helped him up, he stayed upright, and took a few breaths while he tried to clear his vision.

“Are you sure you can make it?” she asked, concerned.

He nodded, holding his hand on his forehead. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Could you please tell Steve that I went to the cabin?"

"Yes, absolutely," she said.

Billy started towards the door to the corridor that would take him to the staircase.

When he got there, he suddenly felt dizzy again and had to lean against the wall. What the hell is wrong with me he wondered, feeling the world spinning hard around him. He tried to blink to keep his vision clear, but everything kept getting blurry. He slid to the floor, feeling his limbs giving up on him.

Charles let out a small, dry laugh. “Why yes, William. We indeed have.”

He saw a figure approaching to him. It leaned down towards him and soon he felt an arm reaching between the wall and his body, then under his arm, lifting him up.

“Alright, William, let’s go,” a man said. He hooked Billy’s arm around his shoulder and started to walk, half-carrying Billy.

Billy didn't know what, but there was something oddly familiar in the man’s scent, his cologne. He couldn't quite pinpoint what, but it made his stomach tighten with a quiet dread. He tried to get the man to let go of him. "I...I think..." he slurred, "I think...I'm going to be just fine by myself. There's no need for you to..."

"No, no, William, I insist. You could've fallen on the stairs if I didn't come to help you. You're not in shape to go by yourself."

There was something in the words and the way the man spoke that struck a chord in Billy's mind. "Do I...do we..." Billy mumbled slowly as they progressed in the corridor. "Have we met somewhere?"

“I’m Charles. You’ve been on the boat with me for a week...”

“No,” Billy muttered. “Before.”

[bookeysnewsletter]

The Great Gatsby: A Summary of Fitzgerald's Classic Novel

Chapter 1 What's The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

"The Great Gatsby" is a novel written by F. Scott Fitzgerald, first published in 1925. It is considered a classic of American literature and explores themes of wealth, decadence, and the American Dream in the Jazz Age. The story follows the enigmatic millionaire Jay Gatsby and his love for the beautiful but married Daisy Buchanan. Through intricate prose and vivid descriptions, Fitzgerald paints a portrait of the excesses and disillusionment of the Roaring Twenties. The novel is a critique of the hedonistic lifestyle of the wealthy, as well as a reflection on the elusive nature of the idealized past.

Chapter 2 Is The Great Gatsby A Good Book

"The Great Gatsby" is generally considered a classic and well-regarded novel in American literature. It explores themes such as the American Dream, wealth, love, and the consequences of attempting to recreate the past. Many readers appreciate its lyrical prose, complex characters, and intricate storytelling. So if you are interested in these themes and enjoy well-crafted literature, then "The Great Gatsby" could be a good book for you to read.

Chapter 3 The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald Summary

The Great Gatsby is a novel written by F. Scott Fitzgerald and published in 1925. The story is set in the summer of 1922 and follows the life of Jay Gatsby, a wealthy and mysterious young man living in West Egg, Long Island. The novel is narrated by Nick Carraway, a young man who moves to West Egg and becomes Gatsby's neighbor.

Gatsby is deeply in love with Daisy Buchanan, a beautiful and wealthy young woman who lives across the bay in East Egg. Gatsby throws extravagant parties at his mansion in the hopes of attracting Daisy’s attention and winning her back. Throughout the novel, Gatsby’s obsession with Daisy and his desire to recapture their past relationship drives the plot.

As Nick gets to know Gatsby, he learns more about his mysterious past and his rise to wealth. Gatsby reveals that he was born into a poor family and made his fortune through illegal means. Despite his wealth and success, Gatsby is unable to win back Daisy’s affections, as she is married to Tom Buchanan, a wealthy and arrogant man.

The novel culminates in a tragic and dramatic climax, as long-held secrets are revealed and relationships unravel. The themes of love, wealth, and the American Dream are central to the novel, as Fitzgerald explores the consequences of pursuing happiness and success at any cost.

The Great Gatsby is considered a classic work of American literature and is often studied in high school and college literature classes. It explores the complexities of human relationships, the pursuit of the American Dream, and the fragility of social status and wealth.

Chapter 4 The Great Gatsby Author

F. Scott Fitzgerald released The Great Gatsby in 1925. Some of his other popular works include "This Side of Paradise," "Tender is the Night," and "The Beautiful and the Damned."

In terms of editions, the best one would depend on personal preference. Many readers and collectors prefer the early editions of The Great Gatsby, such as the first edition published by Charles Scribner's Sons in 1925. These early editions are highly sought after and can fetch high prices at auctions and rare book dealers. Additionally, there have been many special editions and anniversary editions released over the years, each with their own unique features and designs. Ultimately, the best edition would be the one that appeals most to the individual reader in terms of content and presentation.

Chapter 5 The Great Gatsby Meaning & Theme

The Great Gatsby Meaning

"The Great Gatsby" is a novel that delves into themes of wealth, class, and the American Dream. It follows the story of Jay Gatsby, a wealthy and mysterious man who is obsessed with rekindling a past romance with Daisy Buchanan, a woman from his past. Through the lens of Gatsby's pursuit of wealth and status, Fitzgerald explores the hollowness and corruption that can come with the pursuit of material success. The novel also critiques the superficiality and emptiness of the American Dream, suggesting that true happiness cannot be found in wealth alone. Overall, "The Great Gatsby" serves as a critique of the excesses and shallowness of the Jazz Age, while also delving into deeper questions about the nature of identity, love, and the pursuit of happiness.

The Great Gatsby Theme

The theme of The Great Gatsby revolves around the idea of the American Dream and the corrupting influence of wealth and materialism. Throughout the novel, characters are portrayed as chasing after the illusion of happiness and success through wealth, status, and superficial appearances. However, this pursuit ultimately leads to disillusionment, emptiness, and moral decay. The characters in the novel are driven by their desires for wealth, power, and social status, which ultimately cloud their judgment and lead to tragic consequences. The novel serves as a critique of the superficial and materialistic values that dominate society, highlighting the emptiness and corruption that can result from the relentless pursuit of the American Dream.

Chapter 6 Other Accessible Resources

1. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald - available for purchase on major online bookstores such as Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

2. SparkNotes study guide for The Great Gatsby - a comprehensive resource for analysis and understanding of the novel.

3. The Great Gatsby audiobook - available for download or streaming on platforms like Audible or iTunes.

4. The Great Gatsby film adaptation (2013) - directed by Baz Luhrmann and starring Leonardo DiCaprio, available for purchase or rental on platforms like Amazon Prime Video or iTunes.

5. The Great Gatsby ebook - available for download on platforms like Kindle or Apple Books.

6. The Great Gatsby scholarly articles and literary criticism - accessible through academic databases such as JSTOR or Project MUSE.

7. The Great Gatsby study group on Goodreads - a community of readers discussing the novel and related topics.

8. The Great Gatsby podcast episodes - explore podcasts like "The Literary Life" or "The Great Gatsby Series" for in-depth discussions of the novel.

9. The Great Gatsby quotes and analysis on websites like SparkNotes or Shmoop.

10. The Great Gatsby social media groups and forums - join discussions on platforms like Reddit or Facebook to share insights and connect with fellow fans of the novel.

Chapter 7 Quotes of The Great Gatsby

The Great Gatsby

quotes as follows:

1. "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

2. "I hope she'll be a fool -- that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool."

3. "I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life."

4. "You can't repeat the past."

5. "I wish I'd done everything on earth with you."

6. "There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired."

7. "Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us."

8. "They're a rotten crowd," I shouted across the lawn. "You're worth the whole damn bunch put together."

9. "Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope."

10. "I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy."

Chapter 8 Similar Books Like The Great Gatsby

1. "One Hundred Years of Solitude" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez - Like Pedro Paramo, this novel explores themes of solitude, family secrets, and magical realism.

2. "The House of the Spirits" by Isabel Allende - This novel follows several generations of a Chilean family and deals with themes of love, power, and fate, much like The Great Gatsby.

3. "Beloved" by Toni Morrison - This novel delves into the complexities of history, memory, and trauma, similar to the haunting atmosphere of Pedro Paramo.

4. "The Sound and the Fury" by William Faulkner - Faulkner's exploration of the decline of the Compson family mirrors the themes of tragedy and decay found in both The Great Gatsby and Pedro Paramo.

5. "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" by Ken Kesey - This novel delves into the lives of patients at a mental institution, exploring themes of freedom, individuality, and societal norms, much like the characters in Pedro Paramo.

Book https://www.bookey.app/book/the-great-gatsby

Author https://www.bookey.app/quote-author/f.-scott-fitzgerald

Quotes https://www.bookey.app/quote-book/the-great-gatsby

YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e6Iu29TNfkM

Amazom https://www.amazon.com/-/zh/dp/B093MYWTT5

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/4671.The_Great_Gatsby?ref=nav_sb_ss_1_16

[seasidepierre]

sunkissed face part 5 | charles leclerc

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS MASTERLIST

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

summary: Charles has showed up in London and you decide it's time to repay him the favor of a tour.

warnings: Will make you want to be bestie with Tom Holland and I'm not sorry for it.

words count: 7.7k

a/n: A very big thank you to @dansunflowers who's been hyping me up for this story ever since I started it and to @parkerbunny for her help with a bit of beta-reading! And mostly, thank YOU for reading my work and loving our fave sunkissed couple so much 🤍

You were pretty sure that your parents had always explained that heaven was not on Earth. As soon as you were of age of understanding abstract notions and when you’d asked what heaven was, they were adamant that it was not to be found while you were alive and that you had to be really good to get the chance to ever see it. You weren’t quite sure your previous actions on this planet would always be categorised as “good”. You had cheated on tests. You’d been mean, sometimes. You’d stolen a couple of items, mostly unintentionally when loading the groceries in the boot of your car and realising you’d forgotten to put something on the conveyor belt. You’re pretty sure you’ve been bad at some points, without even realising. And sometimes, you’d been plain mean, just because you’d been hurt and the only response you’d been able to give was to bite back.

So how did heaven crash with your little London flat, as you laid in your bed, comfortably settled between Charles’ arms and thighs? Surely, you didn’t deserve such good things. Surely, this was a mistake. But you lifted your head and your eyes met the cute button of his nose, nostrils flaring as his slow breathing gave rhythm to the rocking provided by his heaving chest and you truly felt in a place that clearly wasn’t Earth. You had abandoned the leggings yesterday night when you went to bed, letting Charles’ low whistle boost your ego when you climbed onto the mattress. Your bed sat on the corner of your room and you were used to sleeping on the side against the wall, leaving Charles with the open side of the bed, which meant you had to climb over him. As you stood above him, feet wobbling on either side of his chest, his hands had sneakily found a way to your calves and rose up your legs to end up on your thighs, pulling you down gently until you ended up straddling his lap.

“Hi,” He grinned.

“Hi,” You whispered back.

“Loving the look,” He explained, his hands spread across the top of your thighs, soft fingertips drawing little circles on your skin. “What did I do to deserve it?”

“You came here,” You smiled, arms raising until he sat back up so you’d be able to knot them behind his neck. “And that’s plenty enough, before you ask.”

“We only have three days left,” He sighed. “What have you planned for us?”

“Tomorrow, we’re going to town. There’s no way you leave without having had a tour.”

Your alarm clock didn’t ring that morning, being a Saturday and all, but you still did stir up at around 9. The sun was rising in the sky and a sliver of sunshine was sneaking through a little slit between the curtains of your window. The bedroom might have been uncomfortably hot and maybe, if you took the time to get out of it and re-enter, you’d find that it might have been smelling a bit funky too, but it’s not like you really cared about that, when you were basking in Charles’ warmth.

You stretched gently, careful not to poke your bed mate in the face and cringed a little when a couple of your articulations popped loudly, including your back, which made you see stars for a little while. You felt like your entire being had been realigned and, content with the current state of your body, you curled back up to Charles’ chest, wrapping your arms around his middle and resting your head right on his sternum. Your legs intertwined with his, calves against calves, thighs on thighs, warm skin against warm skin. Charles sleepily brought his arms around you, dropping a kiss on the top of your skull but you weren’t even sure he was actually aware of doing it.

“It’s still early, go back to sleep,” His raspy voice rumbled through your cheek, flush against his chest.

“Fine, sleepy head,” You whispered back, kissing his sternum in the process.

Charles hummed, visibly happy about the soft display of your affection. You nuzzled your way deeper into his skin, even if you were already as close as humanly possible. In his sleepy state, Charles’ arms rose around your shoulders, ending their course on the sides of your head, squishing you against him a little bit tighter, which made you quietly chuckle.

“I feel you laughing,” He mumbled. “You’re shaking against my chest.”

“I could be crying,” You teased.

“No.”

There was no doubt in his mind. Not when your body was flush against his and your heart finally felt at rest, back into his arms. He knew that perfectly well, since he felt exactly the same way. This felt like solace. This felt like rest, finally. He had been so tired, these last few days, navigating his life without knowing where you two stood, but being back to you felt heavenly. He had slept soundlessly for the first time in days. This had been the most rest he's gotten ever since you left Monaco. So he was pretty sure that the comfort he was feeling was too reassuring and intense to be felt only by him. You were just as content as he was.

“Where are we going?”

“I want to take you to all the very touristy places, but also, I want to show you my London,” You whispered. “The one you won’t see unless you’re with me.”

“I have a feeling this is going to be my fave part of the tour,” He hummed, eyes still closed.

“We’ll see.”

You knew your heart to be in its calmest state ever since Monaco. There was no doubt, no trouble clouding your mind. But as you slowly emerged from sleep, your mind took recollection of the day and what it meant.

Saturdays were pub quiz days with the boys.

Saturdays were usually meant for Tom, his brothers, Tuwaine.. And Harrison.

Harrison, that you truly didn’t want to see for now.

There was something about the very thought of Harrison that irked you and rubbed you in the wrong way. You still weren’t sure if it was the shame of having been caught in your blatant crush by the object of said crush or if it was the fact that he told his girlfriend and didn’t come to you with it. Had he been embarrassed by the whole thing to the point of not telling you anything about it? To be completely frank, he hadn’t been the same ever since he started dating his current girlfriend. Not that you were throwing her under the bus, but you didn’t really like her and it was fine by you both. She was with him and you had been throwing heart eyes at her boyfriend for the entirety of their relationship. It wasn’t really that much of a surprise that she was cold to you. But as their relationship had barely started, Harrison was still warm and nice to you, he was still.. Your best friend. It changed about three months into their relationship. At that point, Harrison stopped calling you to tell you the latest stupid joke he had found on the bottom of his yogurt pot or to explain his weird dream of the night. He didn’t lend you a sweatshirt anymore when you were obviously freezing (not that you were lacking in the clothing department, though, if it wasn’t Harrison, it would have been either one of the other boys) and his usual displays of affection, in the forms of exchanging foods you both didn’t like but knew the other did, didn’t happen anymore. Instead, you sat at the pub looking at your plate, wishing he could pick the pickle from your burger and you’d get his slice of tomato. Sad times. You didn’t want to think it was her doing, you didn’t want to imagine that she had anything to do with it. And if she did, then you had enough empathy to realise that maybe, your relationship to the boys might be a threat to another girl dating the boys. But then again, the twins’ girlfriends usually didn’t have any trouble with you hanging out with the guys. Tom’s girlfriends didn’t say shit to you, because Tom always made sure that you were part of the group they were getting into. You had met your fair share of celebrities who didn’t bat an eyelash at you, because you were always introduced as “the best friend”. But this time was different. Was it because Harrison was actually serious about this girl? Was it because they were really into each other and Harrison had tried to put some distance, just to give some peace of mind to his girl? Why were you the one being pushed away for a relationship that you clearly weren’t going to get and didn’t even want anymore? As much as you could empathise, it didn’t feel fair that you were the one being punished for it when you’d been here for longer than her. You loved Harrison to bits, even if it was just as a friend. He had been one of your best mates for literal decades. You two had fallen into a comfortable relationship and dynamic, established long before she even appeared in his life. So why were you the one pushed away when you had tried your best to accommodate his relationship status? It’s not like she found you cuddling Harrison on a couch. It’s not like she witnessed a hand on your thigh or kisses dropped to the top of your head. All of that had stopped when they started dating, which you had found quite normal, actually. But why did it feel so unfair that you were the girl who lost it all when you’d been the one helping him navigate Life for so long?

But as much as you had reflected on this, it truly didn’t seem to matter as much as it did, now that you had Charles.

The idea of Harrison as a boyfriend seemed so distant that you wondered how and why you had it in the first place. You had nursed your crush over the blond boy for literal years before you’d meet Charles, who obliterated the idea in a single eyelash batting. There was no comparison to make. Charles was the Sun and Harrison was barely a satellite in your eyes. You still knew your heart to contain love and fondness for Harrison, but as your best friend and that was it. Even if, as of right now, you were pretty mad at him and didn’t want to speak to him, nor even see him.

“I can hear you think,” Charles mumbled in your hair. “What’s going on inside your pretty little head?”

“Just thinking about my friends,” You stated, not wanting to conceal the truth in any way.

“Did something happen?”

“No, it’s just that Saturday nights are usually spent together, but with you here, I’m not sure what to do.”

“Do you want to go see them?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Is this about what happened in Monaco with Harrison?”

Charles didn’t stumble onto the name and you were quite sure that they didn’t talk to each other when they met at the track. Tom didn’t introduce them either and the only time he did hear his name was when you mentioned it, on the two odd occasions that you couldn’t just say “he” or “him”. But he had remembered it. He knew exactly who was who and which name to keep track of. It did tighten your heart a little and you wished you could have never felt what you did for Harrison, just so that you could reassure him and tell him that your heart didn’t hold any trace of Harrison, that it was his to take if he wanted it and his to keep, if he felt like it.

But instead, you were lying on the chest of a very doubtful boy who clearly appreciated you enough to take a private jet to London and to lie in bed with you without even trying anything. He was just content to hold you. And now you had made a little mess appear in a corner of his brain.

You sighed, guilt eating at your stomach. You rubbed your cheek against his shirt, wishing the simple gesture would appease him just enough. Anything to erase the thought creeping into his beautiful head.

“Yeah,” You whispered. “I’m kinda mad at Harrison and I also don’t want to see his girlfriend.”

“If Harrison wasn’t there, would you go?”

“I don’t know. I kind of like the idea of spending the night with you. They’d understand.”

“Maybe they would, but also, I don’t want to isolate you from your friends. I think you should go.”

The fact that he didn’t include himself in the outing was almost cute, if it didn’t send you spiralling into the idea that maybe Charles didn’t like the idea of you spending time with the boys, even if he had just said the opposite, really. Or maybe he just didn’t like them. It could be both, too. Before you knew it, your arms tightened against his torso, squeezing yourself against him even more than you already were. If you had to choose between your friends and him, you knew you’d be in trouble. Because you might like Charles a lot, but you loved your friends to bits. There wouldn’t really be a choice, actually. You knew you’d have to let Charles go, even if he’d break your heart. And you weren’t ready for that, no matter how recent your little fling with Charles might be.

“You need to breathe,” He whispered to you. “It’s okay, I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

You hadn’t felt yourself tipping towards an anxiety attack but here you were now, pushing it back with all your force. Charles had sensed it coming, though, and was currently trying his best to soothe you so you could escape it. You loved the fact that he already knew you were dealing with anxiety and how willing he was to help you through it. You also immediately loved his way to anchor you back to reality, through light fingertips on your shoulders, deep breaths inviting you to match your breathing to his, soft kisses on your temple and whispers that were just loud enough to pierce the overflowing thoughts crowding your mind.

It took you a bit of time to eventually calm yourself down, but this might have been the easiest almost-attack you’d ever had and you were convinced it was all thanks to the man helping you through it. Even Tom wasn’t as efficient and God knows he was the one who usually helped you the most through your anxiety.

“I’m not leaving you alone tonight,” You finally reacted to his previous sentence.

“I’ll guess we’ll both go to the pub quiz, then,” He shrugged. “You’ll have to explain to me how it works because I think I’m gonna be the worst team player ever.”

You kissed Charles’ sternum, so incredibly grateful that Life seemed to be a race track whose turns and path led you straight to him. You promised him you would try your best to make it as pain free as it could be for him and tightened your arms once again around his chest.

“Can we go back to sleep, now?” He mumbled.

“Yes, we can,” You smiled.

And you did.

*

Surprisingly enough, Charles had been pretty determined to get out of the flat after 11am. You sensed that he had taken on him to rest and enjoy the softness of your morning together but maybe this had been going on for too long, at least when this guy was used to high speeds and being constantly busy. It’s like a colony of ants had taken over each and every one of his limbs and he was ready to pounce at anything and everything, just to unload that high energy onto something. Or someone. And truth be told, while he looked like a completely nuts golden retriever puppy, you couldn’t deny that there was something nice about his grabby hands and the way he kept giggling into your neck at every chance he got to drag your body closer to his. You had been on the way to put your shoes on and suddenly, Charles was behind you, draping his torso against your back and surrounding your stomach with both his arms. It was super cute, true, but also super uncomfortable, for the both of you actually. He let go of you pretty quickly, before hopping to the next spot of interest to him, which had been the keys hung on your wall. He had grabbed the set of them, had pushed the door open and out and about you went.

Taking the tube was the easiest, because you couldn’t, for the life of yours, deal with the traffic jams you were sure to find in the very core of the city. Taking the tube was also the nicest, because even though there was enough space for you to occupy two seats correctly, Charles was adamant your legs should rest on his thighs, so he could have his hands on them, at all times. You particularly enjoyed this side of Charles, being all touchy and lovely, but a nagging thought kept popping up in the back of your mind, wondering how long exactly it was going to be until he got tired of you. So you made a vow to yourself to enjoy the small time you had together, as short as it might be, so that when he’d leave in a couple of days, you wouldn’t have any regret. You’d spend your time appreciating his touch, enjoying his gaze, basking in his warmth and then you’d try your best to survive the colder days.

You could do this.

You took Charles to the touristy stuff first. The London Eye wasn’t really that cheap but before you had a chance to swipe your credit card on the device, Charles had slid his in the slot, preventing you from paying for the both of you. You boarded a pod quite easily, as he had opted for fast track tickets, allowing you to skip the queue and for some privacy. It’s not like anyone expecting him in London and you thought you’d be fine, after having spent most of your days with Tom who was currently London’s sweetheart and one of England’s prime jewels, but you sensed that it was still all a bit awkward for Charles and you allowed him the extravaganza of paying more to skip the line. If he was happy at the end of the day, you’d be happy too.

The thirty-minute ride was spent faster than you’d remember it to be. You pointed the most obvious landscape elements to Charles, explaining a bit of history and context to each of them. That way, Charles became familiar with the House of Parliament and how it worked, with Buckingham Palace, with Big Ben and as the sky was clear, you even got to show him a glimpse of Windsor Palace. Charles was interested in the monarchy, having a prince in Monaco too, and didn’t comment on the oddity of still having a monarch. Some of Tom’s friends from the States or Europe still found it baffling that England wasn’t a democracy, per se. But you were glad to explain to Charles what the Queen was up to and what she did, which he listened to with great interest. When you got out of the pod, you felt like he was significantly richer in knowledge on the history of the city.. And richer in kisses too. Your lips were swollen and you weren’t sure your touch of lip balm before you left your flat had been the best idea, with hindsight. Charles, however, was ecstatic to discover more and wanted to see Buckingham from closer, so you indulged him, even though you knew the spot to be full of tourists. He took enough pictures to possibly cover an entire wall of his bedroom but the majority of them had you two in it. Dozens of badly framed selfies later, you took him to Trafalgar Square, ready for lunch and to sit just a bit. You ended up ordering sandwiches and eating them sitting in front of the fountain. After lunch, you could see that Charles was full of energy again, so you decided to rent Santander bikes to ride a bit into the city. You took him to some very known streets in Notting Hill and thought it would be nice to grab a double decker bus to get to the Sky Garden on Fenchurch Road, which you loved for the jungle feeling it gave you. You’d never gone further than the United States but Charles had visited Bali on a couple of occasions, so he told you everything about it and why you should avoid looking at monkeys in the eyes at all costs, while you sat in the middle of it, trees behind you and a stunning view of London across the window walls.

“What do you like so much about London?” Charles asked, your head resting on his shoulder and his hand tracing circles on the small of your back. “Is it your city like Monaco is to me?”

“I’m not sure. I love London, don’t get me wrong,” You sighed. “But it’s a scattered city. Everything is always about an hour away even though it’s still London. It’s where I grew up and it’s what I’ve always known. I’m fond of it, really. But at the same time, the traffic, the grey skies, the cold, the constant rush all the time.. It’s starting to get to me. I don’t mind the buzz of the city but I’m exhausted from feeling like everything’s buzzing around me and I’m just here for the ride. I wish I was truly a part of it, but most of the time, I end up riding the wave all the way back home and I lock myself in my little flat, ready for the day to be over and for the next one to be a copy of the previous one.”

“I get it,” Charles nodded. “It’s like everyone’s living their lives but not you, right?”

“Exactly,” You sighed with relief that at least someone understood. “And I really wish I was living, rather than just going through it all.”

Charles nodded, at a loss of words to reply. You didn’t really need him to, if you were being honest. Just the fact that he was there, that he was trying his best, that he was attempting to soothe you and make it just a fraction easier for you was enough. Him being there and providing a completely different weekend than the ones you were used to was enough. Every moment spent with Charles felt like Life was finally seeping back into your spinal cord, like you’d been hunched over for weeks and now, you were ready to finally stand up straight, relieved of a weight on your shoulders. Charles was a breath of fresh air in the polluted skies of London.

“If you could go anywhere else, where would you go?”

“I’m not really sure,” You admitted. “I don’t think I’ve seen enough of the world to know where I’d be happy. I think I’d like somewhere sunny and warm, possibly with the sea. But I’ve also never been to the mountains, so maybe I’d end up falling in love with the scenery and the snow, you know?”

“Where have you been, so far?”

“I’ve visited New York, it was amazing but I’m not sure I’d love it much more than London in the long term. It was too busy for a permanent place to live. I went to Los Angeles but this place is the most fake I’ve ever seen. I liked the beaches but it was too hot and people there are just extremely self-centred, I thought. And I went to Paris, which I loved too but same again, would the pretty buildings and history be enough for me to forget the busy metros and the feeling that people are always running everywhere?”

“And you’ve been to Monaco,” Charles ended the list, a smug smile on his lips.

“Monaco was amazing,” You whispered.

Charles laughed, making you smile even wider.

If you had to choose, maybe you’d go back to Monaco.

But for the time being, you’d go back to London’s busy streets and smog.

*

The pub you’ve elected to be the one you should always end up at for pub quiz Saturday was rowdy and loud. You knew it could be a little bit intimidating for a newcomer, so you warned Charles in advance, which resulted in him only slightly jumping out of the noise level there was inside. However, the pub was warm and cosy, with booths made of caramel coloured leather, inviting you to crash on it and appreciated the rough texture of the wood making up the tables. Those tables had seen better days, for sure. They were dented, they were scratched, they had traces of glasses rims and stains for numerous drinks spilled on them. But those tables were the ones you had smashed your hands on countless of times, laughing with your friends. They were the ones you sat at to have some fun and unwind from the long week of work you just had. They were the background of some of your fondest memories.

You wouldn’t trade them for the world.

Tom, Sam and Harry had scored the table you liked the most, right by the heater and close enough to the host of the quiz that you wouldn’t have to try your hardest to understand what was being said. It also was a big enough table to host all of you without you having to break into two different groups.

Two seats were saved next to Tom, which you guessed was his doing. He did text earlier asking if you were coming. You did answer that you wouldn’t be alone, without mentioning who was going to join.

The look of pure surprise on the twins’ faces was enough to make you giggle. Tom smiled at you, jumping to his feet to greet Charles, which was enough for you to thank him softly under your breath as Charles took the time to say hi to everyone. Tuwaine was looking rather smug, if you were being honest, probably yelling in his head about how “you should get it”, if you trusted the smirk he sent your way. One that truly didn’t look impressed, though, was Harrison. He was on his own, that night, dateless which happened quite often for pub quizzes. It wasn’t really his girlfriend’s scene, which you had respected so far. It also had meant that for one night each time, you didn’t have to be careful about what you said and what you did. It meant having the boys for yourself and not having to share them. Tonight, it just made things awkward, though.

Harrison did greet Charles, though, even if he hadn’t been as warm as the others. As soon as they were all sat, you took the space next to Tom, patting the rest of the booth for Charles to drop his cute butt next to you. Directly across you two sat the twins and in front of Tom was Tuwaine, leaving Harrison with the stool at the end of the table, which you knew he wasn’t really fond of. He preferred the booth. Too bad Tom had privileged your sake and Charles’ than his.

“So what the hell are you doing here, mate?” Harry asked.

“Nobody told them about Monaco?” You frowned.

“Wasn’t our story to tell,” Tuwaine shrugged. “You go ahead, Queen.”

“I met Charles at the Grand Prix,” You smiled to the twins.

“And I’m here to visit and learn about London,” Charles added, a hand draping your knee as he threw a look at you on his side, a small grin gracing his lips behind his facemask.

Sam was the quickest one linking the dots together, nodding with acknowledgment. Harry was quick to follow, his mouth gaping in a perfect “O” which made you laugh. It’s not like you could blame them for their surprise. You did have spent a long time single and rejecting the idea of any set-up date, waiting for God knew what. Or at least Tom knew what.

“Well it’s nice to have you here, Charles,” Tom grinned. “You ready to play?”

“I’m not sure I’ll be very helpful but I’ll try my best,” Charles scoffed, amused.

“First round is on me,” Tuwaine announced. “To celebrate our very own Queen finally getting herself a nice boy.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” You giggled.

“Just that last time you brought someone to a pub quiz, he was a complete tool. Damn Charles, you’re stellar, don’t get me wrong, but your competition was just abysmal.”

You cringed at his remark, wishing he didn’t bring your past love life to the table, figuratively and not. Charles had had enough of you projecting your past onto him for the day. He didn’t need to hear about your previous dates. The guy Tuwaine was referring to hadn’t even gone past that date. You brought him as a test because you weren’t sure whether to pursue that or not. When he saw the entire group of friends you talked so much about had been made of guys only, he had turned into the most insufferable guy you’d ever met. And he had tried to get Tom on his Instagram story, which truly was one of the reddest flags you could have gotten.

But Charles laughed at Tuwaine, turning back to you with gleeful eyes, wanting to learn more about it, to which you moaned that you would explain, just later. He nodded at you and let Tuwaine process into asking everyone what they wanted to drink. You opted for a simple lemonade, knowing you would most likely end up finishing some glasses at some points. When you were tipsy (or more), you stole the bottoms of everyone’s glass. You were a bit of a kleptomaniac when alcohol was involved. Upon seeing Tuwaine struggling with a shit ton of pints and glasses, Charles stood up and offered a hand, which you appreciated quite a lot. He was settling into the group, not just riding the wave.

The host of the quiz appeared, which brought the pub into a frenzy that made Charles laugh. You hollered at the poor guy, along with the rest of your table, which made the host sigh, once again. You were known for these antics. But the staff forgave you lot every time, because you did come every week and as much as you were loud, you also brought some sense of party to it. Pub quiz Saturdays without you were tamer, quieter and more boring, truth be told.

Didn’t prevent the host from being embarrassed anyway, which made you giggle like always. He did explain the rules and the concept because he could “see there were some new faces around”. The only new face was Charles’, so you loved the gesture even more for what it was: welcoming newbies and making sure Charles was comfortable and up to speed. They passed the answer sheets around and Harrison grabbed yours, though he passed it to you without even a word. You knew pens would be passed soon and not without missing a beat, Harrison chose the gel one that clicked loudly, even though it made Tuwaine groan thinking about the damn noise it made. Harrison gave it to you, ignoring the complaints of the rest of the table, but you did your little happy dance. This was your favourite pen out of the ones you could get and Harrison knew it.

“Why do you always indulge her and get her that damn pen?” Sam moaned.

“If I hear it click more than once, I swear to God..” Harry added.

“I have nightmares about this sound,” Tuwaine shuddered.

“Shut up, she likes that pen, she gets that pen, end of it,” Harrison stopped the debate.

That made Charles frown a little. Surely if you’d had to escape your hotel room because he had been a dick, he wasn’t meant to do something nice for you, was he? But you seemed happy with your little pen, brandishing it in the middle of the table before clicking it loudly several times, making all of the guys groan a few times more. Your smug face was enough to ease his heart but the fact that you leaned into him and wiggled a bit more, obviously pleased about him being there, truly made the whole incident insignificant.

The first round of questions was of 5, themed around history. Thankfully for you, Harry was a bit of a nutcase and knew dates and locations like no other. You debated the answers as a team, though sometimes Harry would be firm and say this was it. To your biggest pleasure, Charles tried to offer help and opinions, which were helpful in some instances. He was far from being as good as Harry, but he did make counter offers and enjoyed the debate. After the round, you had a little break, which meant that you had time to grab something to drink. You turned to Charles, asking if he wanted anything, but he hadn’t finished his pint yet, so you got up and got a rum and coke, asking for it to be lightly dosed. Your wish for the end of the night was to not end up completely hammered, though you knew Charles would take care of you if needed.

As you sat back next to him, he turned to you and smiled, facemasks having been dropped a while ago as the tables had been spaced out and you were all drinking.

“Are you having fun?” You inquired. “We can leave if you’re not,” You informed.

“I’m having fun,” He confirmed. “No worries on that side. I’m just happy to spend some time with you.”

“You’re the sweetest,” You hummed softly, dropping your head on his shoulder.

“Is there a specific reason why you’re the one writing the answers?”

“That’s because everyone at this table either has a hard time writing or just has shitty handwriting. So to ensure there is no frustration over putting our answers down or trying to read them back, I’ve been designated secretary.”

“You do have lovely handwriting,” He acknowledged. “I like how your letters are very round shaped.”

“That’s a weird compliment to give,” Someone reacted.

Sure enough, that was Harrison, sitting at the end of the table, not even looking at you but to the bottom of his glass pint. You frowned at him, not even trying to understand what the heck was going on inside his head. It’s not like the rest of the table even cared masking the fact that he had just spoken either. And the fact that Charles was starting to blush made you want to hurl the coaster underneath your glass at Harrison’s blonde head, frisbee style. Maybe if you did it hard enough, you’d realign some neurons in his stupid brain. Or maybe he’d just shut up, since he apparently couldn’t be bothered to string together more than 10 words that weren’t insulting.

“Well I do think she has nice handwriting, to be fair,” Tom finally reacted. “Like.. There’s a reason she’s the one writing and not you.”

“I appreciate the compliment, just so you know,” You turned back to Charles, dropping a kiss on his cheek. “That was sweet and since no one had commented on it before, I was happy to hear it.”

You stayed there, chin on the crook of his shoulder, just enough time to rebuild the little confidence he had lost through Harrison’s comment. You knew Charles was either super confident or super insecure. This had been something you’d understood about him from the first day you spent together and that had been reinforced through the whole DNS debacle. So if that man was about to sit in front of the guy you used to wish was your boyfriend, you sure as hell were going to hold his hand and prove to him that you had turned the page once and for all.

The second round of questions was pop culture and Charles turned out to be pretty helpful, coupled with Tom. He knew about music, Tom knew about cinema. You covered gossip with Tuwaine, because God knows you were a nosey, petty girl sometimes. Charles got a couple of answers secured, which truly made him feel better if you trusted his little tight fists shaking next to his chest and the most adorable “yes” escaping his mouth every once in a while.

The third round was about geography and Sam was the one you turned to. Charles, once again, had some insight to give. Your rum and coke had been traded for a mojito, which was colouring the tips of your ears with the cutest red hue, if you trusted Charles on it.

Between the fourth and fifth rounds, a longer break was declared, so that everyone could get a drink. Tom dragged Harrison away, which earned a grateful nod on your part. You didn’t dare to think about what idiocy could spill from his mouth again. As if the little digs he threw Charles’ way during the games weren’t enough.

“Are you okay?” You softly asked the driver.

“I’m great, don’t worry about me,” He smiled, softly kissing your forehead and resting his lips there, a bit longer than maybe you expected him to.

“So how did you guys even meet?” Sam inquired.

“Yeah because you’re adorable, don’t get us wrong, but I really don’t understand the whole.. Just.. How?” Harry somewhat slurred.

“We met at a Ferrari event,” Charles chuckled. “She ventured there on her own and I caught her, with her nose almost touching my car.”

“Naughty,” Harry giggled.

“I thought she was looking pretty cute in her little white and red dress, and she clearly was very interested in the cars and the history of the team, so I introduced myself and we got on pretty easily, I guess?”

“I thought you were pretty hot in your Ferrari teamwear,” You confirmed, nodding on his shoulder. “Charles offered to let me sit in his car,” You bragged.

“You sat in a Formula One car?!” Sam gasped.

“Wait what?!” Tuwaine reacted. “You didn’t tell me that!”

“Well, I did,” You stuck your tongue out.

“I really wanted to see what she looked like in my car,” Charles blushed.

“And?”

“She was stunning,” He laughed.

“That’s our girl,” Tuwaine high-fived you.

That was your turn to feel your cheeks burn and you hid on his chest for a couple of seconds, wishing you were back to your flat already. But you were so close to knowing if your answers were right and you selfishly wanted to know if Charles’ were better than Harrison’s.

Speaking of him, the knickerbocker cocktail dropped on the table right in front of your face was enough to drive a smile back on your face, until you realised who had brought it for you.

“Your fave drink, you’re welcome,” He mumbled.

“Thanks,” You forced yourself to utter, even though you really didn’t want to.

You had no idea what Harrison was playing at, but his constant displays of knowledge about you, pushed right down Charles’ throat, were not your vibes. For the rest of the game, you sat quieter, sipping on your drink reluctantly, until Charles exchanged his pint for your glass upon seeing you so uncomfortable about it. You slid your feet on his calf, gently caressing his leg to thank him silently, downing the last of his beer that Tom had bought him in one go, bottoms-up style, which clearly impressed him more than it should have.

Turned out, your team didn’t win that night, even though Charles’ additions to the answers had mainly been right and helpful. It was recurring, so you weren’t sad about it, but you did steal the raspberries at the bottom of your previous glass, which made Charles’ laugh before he picked them up with the wooden pick of the little umbrella that he had fished out of the drink, giving you the pick every time so you could nibble on them, without a care in the world. His eyes were somewhat glossy with alcohol, no doubt matching yours and your blissed out state, which ended up with you being mocked by the twins, telling everyone to keep their hands in their pockets so you wouldn’t go home with someone else’s phone “accidentally” like you had done a few too many times.

“Why should I worry about that?” Charles drunkenly laughed.

“She’s a klepto when she’s drunk,” Harry giggled.

“I’m not a klepto, fuck you mate,” You retorted.

“Didn’t you bring a glass home, last time?” Sam’s eyebrow teased you.

“I’m not a klepto but I can be violent.”

“Would love to see that,” Tuwaine scoffed. “Ten bills if you pound him.”

“Let’s not go there,” Charles joked. “I don’t need you to get hurt in the process, thanks,” He prevented you from getting up, lazily draping an arm on your shoulders.

You nuzzled onto him, closing your eyes for just a few seconds, to get your head a little bit straighter. It had started to feel cottony and swirly about half an hour ago and if Charles didn’t say anything, he did hear the slight slurring on your tongue.

The night went on a little bit but you all seemed exhausted by midnight. Tom was the one to end it, grabbing his brothers on each side and declaring it was time to “put the babies to bed”, to which they groaned, as always. You all stood up tentatively, testing your balance and your ability to walk before you finally made it outside.

In his inebriated state, though, Charles took a minute to drape his coat on your shoulders when you passed the pub’s doors, making Harrison’s eyes roll high. So high you wished they could stay stuck and he’d look like an proper idiot for the rest of his life. It would serve him right. You pictured yourself sticking your tongue at him but realised the biggest mockery you could send him back was to grab Charles’ hand and pretend like he wasn’t even there. Which you did. Tom saw it and asked Harrison to grab a cab, which gave him a reason to stand aside for a few, while everyone said their goodbyes.

You gave Tuwaine and the twins a quick side hug, wishing them a nice night and grabbed Tom for a longer one, whispering a drunk “fankiou” in his ear, which made him giggle and respond with “anything for you, Love”, which you appreciated to its fair value. You knew Tom was the best, it was a fact, it was a sure thing. He just continuously proved it, again and again.

Tom shook Charles’ hand, letting him know that he was looking forward to seeing him again, which the twins did as well, while Tuwaine was somewhat fangirling about going to another Grand Prix and maybe he could let Charles drive him around, just once? Charles nodded, said he would be delighted to receive everyone at Ferrari and Tuwaine was lost for good when Charles gave him a bro-embrace before clapping him on the back and promising that one day, they’d drive around for a bit.

It was nice to see Charles starting to blend with the rest of the group and you did appreciate him even more for that. Even though you didn’t make an effort to bid goodbye to Harrison, Charles did nod at him, confirming that he was apparently the more mature one. It was nice to see you’d made the good choice.

You grabbed a black cab without too much effort, giving the driver your address and letting him in charge of getting you both back home. You didn’t speak much during the drive back home, feeling a bit spent but blissful in each other’s company. Your back was against Charles’ side, his fingers wrapping in the tips of your hair, peppering some light kisses on your skull while he was at it.

You ended up back at your place, stumbling on your feet which made him chuckle a little before he decided he was the best suited guy to take care of the key to open your door. He did help you get out of your shoes, while you were struggling with the shoelaces and he did slip you into one of his oversized hoodie, packed in his getaway bag.

“You look good in my clothes,” He smiled, while you climbed in bed.

“I look good, period,” You scoffed.

“That’s true, I hope it’s not the alcohol talking, though.”

“It is,” You sighed, patting the side of the bed. “Get your cute butt in my bed. It’s cold.”

“Cute butt, huh?” He smirked.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know it. You have the cutest butt of all the butts.”

“Nice to know. I’ll make sure to add it to my resume.”

“You should. You’re like.. Offensively pretty.”

“Offensively?” He finally exploded in laughter, finally granting your wish of laying down next to you and immediately dragging you closer to him.

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be legal,” You mumbled, pushing your cheek on his chest. “God has favourites, and it clearly shows.”

“Okay, time to sleep,” He giggled.

“Stop being so pretty, first,” You sleepily retorted.

Charles didn’t have enough time to even try to comprehend what you were saying. One second you were being a smart ass on him, the next you were adorably snoring on his chest.

“Toi d’abord,” He whispered, kissing your forehead again, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

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[safetycar-restart]

Okay so I absolutely LOVED your little!drivers headcanons and I wanna expand on some…

Little!Max helping you out with other littles has actually melted my heart!! Like, I can picture him being such a good big brother, so caring and protective. Him and Lando would be an absolute hurricane together when they had energy & were playing, but when they’re tired or Lando drops younger, Max would be the sweetest little thing helping you settle Lando and tuck him in…..

Max and Charles are another chaotic duo when they want to be and you def have to warn them to play nice a few times when their competitive side comes out whilst they’re playing, but when they’re settled they are the cutest of things- wrapped around each other watching cartoons (Tom and Jerry- Max loves it too!!) & cuddling their stuffed animals…

With George, Max treats him like the most delicate China doll (which is good because little!George is very small and sensitive)- I also think Max loves to join in on feeding George, which is something that George obvs loves & Max giggles as George nips at his fingers… I also think this is when Max might lie about how old he is- he wants to be a good big brother for baby George but actually, he’s feeling kinda baby too and you realise and have two adorable little babies to watch…….

I’m just so soft for little!Max getting to socialise & being the cutest little thing!! -🐬

I am always up for more little!max content! And once again 🐬 anon, you have outdone yourself. Every time I think you won’t come up with a better ask.... you do just that. I would straight up die for you.

So yes! Little!max loves looking after other littles! Of course you’re always there too and you’re looking after both of them, but max loves helping so much and you’re never going to turn that down.

I can absolutely imagine that him and little!lando would get up to so much chaos together. I think that max is the loudest with lando? He laughs the most, shows the most affection, etc and of course you love to see that so much.

He and lando could honestly play for hours together.

I definitely agree that max and Charles might bump heads sometimes. Especially because I think that little!charles might say some things that upset little!max? Like max plays with one of his toys to Charles calls him bad and then max is very upset cause he’s not bad! He’s never bad!

But, they both adore their plushies. They each have one that they’re very attached to so every time they start to fight a little, you tell them that fighting makes their plushies sad and that they’re plushies want them to be friends.

Then max and Charles get along again.

And of course max treats George so well! You honestly don’t even need to tell max to be gentle with George, he just knows. Maybe max reads George some stories? George doesn’t say a word, just sits there, sucking his dummy and listening to max’s story. Except max usually gets bored of what the book says and makes up his own story.

I could definitely see max trying to hide how little he wants to regress to because of George. In fact, I think that in general, he would do that. He just doesn’t want to disappoint you. He wants to be a big boy!

But he isn’t always a big boy, sometimes he’s a little boy and sometimes he wants to be an ever littler boy.

You can always tell through. Once you learn his tells, you know instantly when he wants to regress to smaller. You always hold him and tell him that he can be as small as he wants, that you love him and will love him as a little boy too.

And him and little George together? Incredible.

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

gave away my trust for pennies

this fic is dedicated to the lovely @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas. happy birthday bestie!

this fic is a continuation of the latest snippet. as a warning, this got a bit darker than I intended. I see this fic as an escalation of how I've written Charles' behavior in the past, and he is undoubtedly Bad in this fic. A lot of it is told from Alastair's perspective as the one being abused. Please be safe! It does have a positive/hopeful ending.

content warnings: toxic relationship, emotional abuse, gaslighting, physical abuse, coerced sex

the fic title is from the song tears of gold by faouzia!

Masterlist | Read on AO3

Alastair was a bit surprised when it was not Charles who opened the door. In Paris, he was always very careful that he was the one to greet him.

Christopher grinned at him. “Oh, hullo, Alastair, you must be here to see Charles. I think he’s upstairs in his study.” In the few days that Alastair had frequented the Fairchild home last summer, Christopher had been a bit too distracted, or dying, to be around much, but over the past week, they’d become a bit more acquainted. At first, Alastair was worried about Christopher knowing, about him figuring out what he and Charles were, but Charles insisted he was too oblivious to notice. Alastair was doubtful that was the case, but he suspected that Kit just did not care. He seemed far more interested in Alastair’s love of history and his affinity for mathematics than whatever he and Charles were doing behind closed doors.

Alastair nodded and hung his coat beside the door. “Thank you, Christopher. How have you been?”

“I’m quite well, actually. I’m making great progress on that fire-message technology I was telling you about. Your advice was very helpful. In fact, it would be incredible if you had a few minutes and could come down to the lab and help me and Tom.”

Alastair felt the wind knock out of him at the mention of Thomas’ name. Of course he was here. It made sense; he was Christopher’s cousin. He knew from last summer that he typically spent quite a bit of time with him in the lab. And yet the idea of him here, in this house, just downstairs, was disorienting.

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to follow Christopher downstairs and avoid Thomas’ gaze and forget that there was anyone who actually lived in this house. He doubted that Charles would like that much, though. “Sorry, but I’m already running late. Perhaps next time.”

Christopher smiled politely and returned to the lab as Alastair made his way to Charles’ study. He knocked on the door gently before letting himself in.

Charles looked up in surprise. “Alastair! What are you doing here?”

Alastair ignored the pit of disappointment that fell through him. “I told you I was coming over today.”

He smiled warmly, in the way that always seemed to make Alastair’s worries melt away. “Of course. I- I must have lost track of the time.”

“What are you working on?”

“Oh, it’s just… Well, I’ve been trying to do more research on everything that happened… I just can’t get rid of this idea that it isn’t really over.”

In the week since Charles had nearly died, and he’d been plagued by nightmares ever since. He insisted that he was fine and rejected Alastair’s offers to stay with him as he slept, but he seemed to spend every waking moment going through the details of each case. Alastair understood, he was the same way, he needed knowledge to feel in control of the situation. For some reason, his father’s murder was the exception to the rule, but if it was to help Charles, he would do anything. “Perhaps I could help?” he asked.

“I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not; I’m offering. I’ve done some research of my own, you know, of similar patterns of crime. Even before you were hurt and before my- before Elias died, I had been researching Shadowworld and mundane crimes, in hopes that I could find something that would help.”

Charles laughed dismissively. “And how exactly would that help?”

Alastair gritted his teeth. “I don’t know, Charles. Perhaps it would make more sense if I explained.”

He scoffed. “Why do you always have to do this?”

“Do what?”

“Act so passive aggressive. I was only asking a question! Go ahead, explain.”

“No, you were right, it’s silly, forget I said anything.”

“I never said that, Alastair. Don’t put words in my mouth. I don’t understand why you came here just to pick a fight with me. You know how difficult it’s been for me since I was attacked.”

Alastair wanted to scream. He wanted to demand to know why he seemed to be hurting so badly but scoffed at any attempt he made to help. He wanted to go through the stack of papers in front of Charles and pull out the sheet that described Alastair’s father’s dead body and tell him that he wasn’t the only one losing sleep over what happened. He wanted to demand to know why Charles changed the subject every time he tried to talk about Elias, even before he died. Especially before he died. He wanted to laugh and cry and ask him how it was so easy for Charles to make him feel this bad.

Alastair didn’t scream. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t cry. He simply sat down. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll be here if you would like any help or want to take a break.” It was easier this way.

He took out the book he was reading and they continued in silence for a long while.

“Would you like something to eat?” Charles asked after a couple of hours had passed. “We could get something from the kitchen.”

Now that he thought of it, he hadn’t eaten in a while. He often forgot to eat when he was busy or upset or got lost in a good book, which were the three moods he typically cycled through, much to Risa’s dismay. “That sounds nice.”

When they arrived in the kitchen, it seemed as though Thomas and Christopher had the same idea.

“Oh!” Christopher exclaimed. “I was just about to come and tell you there’s food ready.”

Charles didn’t say anything in response, only picked up two plates and began serving them food.

“How are the fire-messages coming?” Alastair asked, attempting to make polite conversation.

“They still seem to be spontaneously combusting on occasion, but we’re working on it.”

“It’s nice that you and Charles are friends again,” Thomas commented with the most innocent face he could muster. “I know how close you were in Paris.”

Charles dropped the fork he was holding and it hit the table with a clatter. He turned sharply and left the room.

Alastair felt panic wash over him. “Yeah,” he said softly, quickly finishing gathering their dinner and returning upstairs, none of them saying a word more until he was gone.

He brought the food to the study, but Charles wasn’t there. He put the plates down and left to find him. He spotted him from the corridor and froze. He was so angry. He charged towards him, but Alastair couldn’t move. Charles grabbed his arm tight enough to make him flinch and pulled him back towards the study.

“Let go of me!” Alastair said, but Charles only held him tighter.

When they got back to the study, Charles slammed the door so hard it made Alastair jump, and before he could get his balance back, Charles shoved him into the wall. He reached out to steady himself, accidentally knocking over a small vase on a nearby shelf. He flinched at the sound. Had Christopher and Thomas heard? This wasn’t a townhouse, though. This was a large manor, though smaller than Cirenworth, but he could remember many nights his father threw liquor bottles at the wall behind him while Cordelia slept peacefully a wing away.

“What in Raziel’s name was that about, Alastair? Did you tell him?”

“What? Of course not! I would never!”

“If you didn’t, then how does he know?”

“He doesn’t know anything! He said we were friends, Charles! Everyone knows that we were friends in Paris!”

“That’s not what he meant and you know it.”

“Charles, please, I didn’t say anything to him, I promise,” Alastair begged. He tried to conceal how frightened he was.

“It must have been your sister, then. Raziel, I told you you couldn’t trust her! This is all your fault!” He turned away, running his fingers through his hair in distress.

“I’m sorry,” Alastair said before he could stop himself. He needed to calm him down. “If he does know, he won’t tell anyone. None of them will. It’ll be okay, no one will find out. We’ll just be a bit more careful. It’ll be alright.”

“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Charles refused to make eye contact.

“No- No, of course it’s not. I don’t want anything you don’t want. I was idealistic, hopeful for the future, but - Charles, I’m a Persian man from a disgraced family, I’m enough of an outcast already, you know this. I don’t want our affair to be discovered any more than you do.” I just want you to look at me.

“Promise me. Promise me, Alastair, you won’t talk to Thomas anymore. He already knows too much. Promise me you won’t tell your sister we’re seeing each other again,” he demanded.

Alastair hated it when Charles told him what to do, and was historically not very committed to keeping these promises, but perhaps this was one he felt he could answer honestly. “I promise. I promise, Charles, I won’t.”

After a long period of silence, Charles finally spoke, “Alright. You’re right.” He looked at the broken vase on the ground and shook his head. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry, you just showed up so unexpectedly, and then Thomas- and you know how stressed I’ve been recently. I didn’t mean to get so angry with you. It will never happen again.”

“It’s alright,” Alastair assured him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “I know, it’s alright. Maybe you should try to get some rest, darling. I’ll clean this up.”

Charles nodded and left for his bedroom.

Alastair picked up the larger pieces of the vase and swept the rest up in a few papers, like muscle memory from his childhood. He couldn’t shake the guilt that came to him so easily these days, sticking like layers of paint coloring his body and soul. He couldn’t stop replaying the image of Charles leaving, still not looking at him, clearly so upset.

With the vase picked up, he scanned the room. Their food sat cold and uneaten. He considered bringing the plates down for someone to clean them, but he couldn’t bear the possibility of running into Christopher or Thomas again. It would be someone else’s problem tomorrow. He turned off the lights and blew out the couple of candles Charles still liked to keep and headed towards the bedroom.

When he got there, Charles was waiting for him. He pulled Alastair close and kissed him deeply. They continued for several minutes until Charles reached to undo Alastair’s belt.

Alastair caught Charles’ hand in his. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said softly.

Charles frowned. “Please, please, Alastair, I want you. I need this.”

Charles’ hand was a paintbrush, covering him in another layer of guilt, and he knew that Charles would get his way. “I don’t-”

“Please, I need a distraction. You need to make it up to me, for earlier.”

Alastair swallowed and resigned. “Alright.”

***

When Alastair woke in Charles’ bed, it was still night. Charles was shaking him. “Alastair, you need to go. Before anyone sees you.”

Charles’ bed was so warm, and the night was so cold. “I could stay a little longer.”

“No, you need to go before anyone notices. Please don’t test me tonight.” Charles’ voice was so cold, so harsh, it chilled Alastair’s blood while making his heart race.

“Okay, okay,” he told him while hurrying to redress himself. He hesitated as he left. “Sweet dreams, ātashé del-am.” Fire of my heart. Charles didn’t respond.

Alastair raced into the night, nearly forgetting his glamour rune, trying to steady his heart and mind. He stopped at a small park near the Fairchild home and sat down on a bench, trying to push the prior night out of his mind.

***

By the time Thomas finally left the lab, it was late into the night. He hadn’t intended to stay so long, but they’d lost track of time. Christopher was staying in the guest room, but since everything that happened, Thomas’ parents worried if he wasn’t back home by morning.

He wasn’t quite ready to go home yet, though. He went the long way around.

The park was empty, as it usually was at this hour, but one person sat on a bench, looking down into his shaking hands. Even in the dark, he thought he recognized that silhouette. “Alastair?”

He put his hands down to stop them from shaking. “Leave me alone.” His voice was hoarse, as if he’d been crying.

“You’re upset. Did something happen?” He sat down beside him.

“Yes, Thomas. I spent a single night with someone and he can’t seem to leave it in the bloody past!”

“I- Do you mean what I said earlier? I didn’t mean anything-”

“Bullshit, Thomas. Your silly little letter before the Townsend’s musicale didn’t mean anything, either, did it? You wanted me to feel guilty.”

Thomas bit his lip. Of course, Alastair has always seen through him. Always. “Fine. Fine, yes, you’re right, of course you’re right, I’m sorry. I wanted you to feel guilty because you broke my heart, you walked away from me and directly towards another man, and it still hurts. I still miss you as much as I did that very first night. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, all the while, you’re with him, and I hate it. How did you move on so easily? Did I mean so little?” Thomas could feel his heart breaking, just as it did, over and over.

“No- I- I don’t know. I don’t-” He put his head in his hands, repeating one phrase over and over, like a mantra. Nemidanam. I don’t know.

“Alastair,” he said, and he reached for Alastair’s arm, trying to get him to look up at him, but when he touched him, he tensed, as if in pain. It was brief, but it was there. “Are you hurt?”

He felt so stupid for feeling so jealous, for not seeing what was right in front of him.

***

Alastair tried to shake off the pain when Thomas touched him, but he must have not been fast enough. He hadn’t even realized that Charles had grabbed him that hard.

“Are you hurt?”

He felt panic rising in his chest. “What? No, why would you think that?”

“You just flinched.”

“Maybe because you grabbed me!”

“I didn’t- Just let me see, please.” He pulled his witchlight out.

He should just tell Thomas to piss off and quit harassing him, he knew, but instead he reached for his sleeve. He doubted there would be much of anything there, anyways. His skin rarely bruised. When he pulled his sleeve back though, he could see in the witchlight what he couldn’t while getting dressed in Charles’ dark bedroom: the dark discoloration wrapping around his lower arm. He pulled his sleeve back down just as quickly, not daring to look at Thomas.

“Alastair, did he- did he do that?” His voice was a pained whisper.

Alastair spoke slowly. “I didn’t… He didn’t mean… It was… He’s never… He’d never… I shouldn't've… He’s just… He said… This was…” I didn’t realize that was there. He didn’t mean to hurt me. It was an accident. He’s never hurt me before. He’d never hurt me intentionally. I shouldn’t have instigated him. He’s just going through a hard time. He said it wouldn’t happen again. This was my fault. All of the words got caught in his throat. And then he started to laugh.

He laughed, and he said, finally, “My whole life, I’ve been terrified of becoming my father. I thought it was inevitable, and so I never thought too hard about all of the times Risa said, ‘Esfandiyar, to khili shabieh mahdarat hasti.’” You’re too much like your mother. As his mother had once defended Elias, he now defended Charles. He always thought that turning into his father was his worst nightmare, but now he could feel all the resentment he’d held for his mother, for her refusing to leave, even when he hurt them. Perhaps there was more than one nightmare, after all.

“You don’t have to be,” Thomas said softly. “You can change the story; you can change the ending.” He’d forgotten that he spoke Persian. “Please, tell me what I can do to help.”

He didn’t want help. He didn’t want to think about any of this. He wanted to be someone else, anyone else, anywhere else. He looked up at Thomas and pulled him into a kiss.

Thomas pulled away immediately. Of course he did. Why would he want him now? He didn’t know why he’d done that. The guilt was a wave now, crashing over him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, I- We can’t do this right now, Alastair. You were right; it’s not the right time.”

“I believe I told you that we would never work, actually.”

“Maybe. I don’t- I don’t know. Maybe we won’t. Maybe we’ll be better as friends than lovers. All I know is that this is not the time for us to find out.”

“Friends?”

“It seems like you’re missing a few.”

“And how would your other friends feel about that?”

“My other friends can mind their own bloody business. They don’t control me or my life or who I choose to spend my time with. I care about you, Alastair, I really do,” his voice broke as he spoke. “I want you to be happy. I want you to be safe. I don’t want anyone to hurt you, which I know is hypocritical because I have, too - me and my friends. And don’t tell me it was deserved, because we both know that it went beyond just what happened when we were schoolboys.”

Alastair’s voice shook. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Thomas.”

“Tell me you’ll be my friend.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll try.”

Thomas pulled out his stele. “May I?”

Alastair pulled his sleeve back up, past the bruise. Thomas’ touch was gentle as he traced the healing rune. It was a welcome difference from the night before. They both watched as the majority of the mark disappeared.

He pulled his sleeve back down as Thomas asked, “What are you going to do now?”

“I should probably go home,” he said lightly. “After, I don’t know… In the past, Charles hasn’t taken too happily to me leaving him.” He thought for a moment. “It’s ironic, you know, what you said. About me walking away from you and towards him. Because when I left him, I walked directly to you.” His voice barely more than a whisper.

“The engagement party,” Thomas realized. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry, too. I wish there was a world where we could have just been together, where I wasn’t… who I am, where it wouldn’t have been so messy.”

Thomas’ fingers brushed up against his cheek as he pushed a strand of hair behind his ear. “I don’t mind, Alastair. I never anticipated this being easy. It’s not something you ever need to apologize for. Will you let me walk you home?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. You spent more than enough time making sure that I got home safe.”

Alastair sighed but agreed.

They walked in silence for the most part, and when they did speak, Charles was never mentioned. It almost felt normal. When they arrived at his door, Thomas took his hand and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“Do you do that to all of your friends?” he teased. Even in the dark, he could see the blush rise to Thomas’ cheeks. “Good night, Thomas,” he said, letting himself in.

“Sweet dreams, Alastair.”

Thanks so much for reading! I know that got a little dark, but I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you thought!

Taglist: @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @awayfrmhome @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial  @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @thefoxandthefound @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in  @fortheloveofthecarstairs @life-through-the-eyes-of @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @hidethebreakables @shadowhunting-hooligans @melanielocke  @kiwichaeng @lightwoodsimp  @yozinha-z @ipromiseiwillwrite @skirtsandsweaters @goodoldfashionednerd @wagnerthedragon @americann-idiot @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas @jianming @jxmesfarrow

[spidernerdsblog]

Can I request reader going to meet mob! tom's friends and when tom gets there, everyone tells him about the hot girl who just walked in and how they wanna fuck her tonight and when he tells them it's his gf they are like 😳 oh and you know tom being the most fearless mobster has trouble controlling his rage and maybe both y/n and tom have some jealous sex. pls I hope this doesn't trigger you and only write this if you want to and stay safe

I literally listened to where you belong by the weeknd while writing this the whole time lol. Hope you like this.

Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings : 18 +, SMUT, mature content, dom/sub dynamics, light bondage, language, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Where you belong

It was like any other night where Tom had to attend one of those lavish parties thrown by the biggest crime families in the country after all he's the mob boss but this time it was little different as you were going to join him tonight. After dating for six months Tom finally thought to introduce you to his underworld friends. Tom was dressed as usual in his business clothes which was a nice ensemble from Prada looking dashingly handsome as always. On the other hand you chose to wear the skin tight dress which Tom liked the most according to him it brings out the best of you. 

Reaching the venue you stepped out of the car as Tom hands the valet the car keys to park his car. Just when you were about to go inside together Tom remembers that he had an important phone call to make.

"Love, you go inside I'll be right behind you" He says to you.

"Okay come fast" you give a smile.

"Yeah I will" after making the call Tom goes inside the hall to find you when he heard some of his friends call out to him.

‘‘Hey Tom!’’ He momentarily forgot about you and made his way towards them.

"So what's up boys?" He pats Michael’s shoulder taking a drink from the ushers. 

"Tom, mate, you have no idea what you just missed’’ he informs all excitedly. 

‘‘Oh really? What was it?’’ he asked, amused.

‘‘Ask who was it, she was a fucking bombshell man, who just walked right through that door!" 

"You should have looked at her ass mate god I just want to fuck her so bad" Charles added.

"Keep dreaming you suckers because Roy is already at it, look over there" Liam chuckles pointing out to them. Tom followed their gaze and his jaw clenched as soon as he saw you, smiling and talking to one of his friends, he inhaled sharply in anger at the fact that all this time his friends were just talking about fucking you in front of him. 

‘‘Damn Roy is gonna get lucky tonight just look at those tits’’ Michael remarks as everyone chuckles except Tom who was fuming with rage.

‘‘You say another fucking word about her and I’m gonna cut that filthy tongue of yours!’’ He spat at him.

‘‘Woah man, relax. What got you so riled up?’’ Tom turned to them with a death glare.

"Listen you morons I want to make this loud and clear, she’s my girl’’ everyone’s eyes went wide in shock as they gulped hard in fear because the last thing anyone would want is to piss off Tom ‘‘and if anyone of you even dare to have improper thoughts about her I’m gonna put a fucking bullet in your heads! Do you fucking get that?!’’ He growled as everyone hung their heads low in fear agreeing to him. He then strides his way towards you.

‘‘So all by yourself?’’ Roy asks with suave in his voice.

‘‘Oh no, I’m with my boyfriend, Tom Holland you might know him’’

‘‘You- you are Holland’s girl?’’ He stutters in fear knowing that he is good as dead if Tom comes to know that he was trying to bed his girl.

‘‘Yeah’’ you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear smiling.

"Hey darling" you felt a familiar pair of hands wrap around your waist possessively.

"There he is!" you chirped as Tom knelt down to plant a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Where were you?" you pouted.

"Sorry darling was just catching up with some friends" 

"Hey Tom" Roy says awkwardly trying to act friendly

"Hey Roy" Tom gives him a hard glare and turns to you.

"I think it's time for us to leave" He says pressing his lips in a thin line.

"But Tom we just arrived won't you have a couple of drinks" you frowned at the sudden change of plans.

"I think I actually had enough darling, let's go now" He says sternly, you noticed his hard gaze and stopped yourself from questioning him further.

"Okay" He literally dragged you out of the place to the parking area. You got inside the car and sat on the passenger seat as Tom sat on the driver's seat slamming the door shut with such force that startled you. 

The whole ride back was completely silent; you occasionally saw him gripping on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. You knew your boyfriend as the most feared mob boss who was also known for his short temper. And by the look on his face he seemed angry for some reason which you are unable to figure out. Surprisingly his angry demeanor was turning you on, you shifted on your seat uncomfortably as you felt heat pool between your legs which didn't go unnoticed by Tom. 

Tom didn't want the night to end like this but here he was furious and raging from inside. He was very well aware of his anger management issues and since the day you walked into his life he has tried to be the better man for you including keeping his anger in check because he would do anything for you. He was never the kind of man to be triggered with such petty things but when it comes to you he just can't control himself he couldn't get over the thought of his friends were literally eye fucking you in front him. It wasn't your fault though you were no doubt beautiful and he feels extremely lucky that he gets to call you his. But seeing you talking and laughing with Roy just lighted up his fuse. He knew you were just being nice to him but when he knows what Roy's actual intentions were with you just makes him see red. 

He just wants to be reassured again that you belonged to him and only him which he is going to make sure tonight. And seeing you getting all fidgety he knew that you were soaking with arousal making him smirk internally at the effect he has on you. 

You finally reached the driveway of your mansion as Tom pulled over the car. You couldn't take the silence anymore and finally spoke up. 

"Tom are you OK?" your voice was full of concern reaching out a hand to his forehead "You are sweating" He grabs your hand with a death grip making you swallow hard as your gaze shifted to his brown orbs which were now swirling with rage and pure lust, yes he was angry and you know exactly what is going to happen next you found yourself getting even more wet just at the thought of it. 

"Bedroom. Strip and wait for me" his voice sharp and dominating. You nodded and let out a small "Yes" 

"Yes what?" He demands. 

"Yes sir" you say submissively, the corner of his lips curl up to a smirk as he brushes your cheekbone with his knuckles gently. 

"Good girl" 

You got out of the car and immediately went to your bedroom. Without wasting any time you did just as you were told, taking off your dress, you sat on the bed on your knees in just your lace panties with palms laying flat on your thighs as you waited for him in anticipation. Every passing minute felt like an hour as you felt your nipples harden in the cool air and arousal pool between your legs, you rubbed your thighs to get some relief from the growing ache. 

He finally arrives after some agonizing moments later the tux he was wearing already discarded and some of the buttons of his shirt unbuttoned giving a nice peak to the solid abs underneath. 

"Such a good girl, aren't you princess?" he cooes as he walks in and sits in front of you. 

"Only for you Tommy" you say sweetly. He knelt down and grabbed your jaw roughly to capture your lips hungrily his tongue prys open your mouth exploring your mouth. He gently sucks on your bottom lip tugging it lightly before pulling away you look at him through your lashes gasping. He brushes his thumb against your swollen bottom lip which you eagerly wrapped your lips onto, sucking and swirling your tongue around it as you hold onto his arm.

"Now don't be so greedy" he purrs as you release his thumb with a pop. 

"Give me your hands" He demands as you reluctantly extend your hands to him. Tom knows how you hate your hands being tied up with how much you love to run your hands through his hair and hold him close to you making you feel safe in his arms but today he had to establish that you were only his, he takes out his tie that was stuffed in his back pocket and ties up your hands with intricate knots. 

"Is this OK?" he asks tugging on it.

"Yes" you affirm, he pushes you onto the bed as you fall back on the soft mattress with him hovering over you as he unbuttons the rest of the buttons of his shirt and takes it off in a swift move. 

"So beautiful and just for me" he says with hooded eyes while his hands trailed down your inner thigh as the coolness of the gold rings on his finger sent shivers right up your core. He pinned your tied hands above your head when you tried to raise them.

‘‘Uh uh princess I thought you were my good girl’’ He patronizes

‘‘I am’’ you whimper in his strong hold.

‘‘Then behave if you don’t want me to leave you like this’’ he says kissing down your throat. You let out a gasp when you felt his warm mouth latch on to your hardened nipple. He smirked and continued sucking, teeth grazing on your soft mounds making you moan. 

"How dare those bastards look at what is mine?!" he growls in between littering your skin with wet kisses and marking you.

You were so helpless and completely at his mercy. Writhing under him and craving him so badly, snaking a hand inside your soaked panties, "so fucking wet" he observed as he spread your slick around your folds, pulling a desperate whimper from you. He brings his fingers to his mouth. 

"Tastes so sweet every time angel" he hums sucking them clean. He then trailed kisses down your stomach, on your navel, before he found home between your legs as he hooks his fingers to the waistband of your panties and simply rips it off you. He stared at your bare, glistening pussy hungrily as if you were his last meal. He dives down right into it sloppily licking through your folds making you arch your back but he holds you down placing a hand on your stomach as he continues his assault. 

You felt dizzy, your brain barely able to comprehend your surroundings. The only sensation you felt was Tom and his calloused fingers which he expertly worked up your dripping cunt and threw you over the edge. When he pushed three of his fingers inside you, you felt delirious and came all around his fingers. 

Tom quickly gets rid of the rest of his clothes and holds himself above you resting his forearm on the side of your head one hand reaches down to grab his throbbing member as he swipes his tip through your slick folds coating it with your arousal before pushing it in your aching hole. You gasp as you feel his tip slide past your entrance and fills you entirely, the stretch making you close your eyes in pleasure. 

‘‘Always so fucking tight!’’ He grunts feeling your walls warm and snug around him. Your eyes shoot wide open as he pulls his hips back and slams right into you without even letting you adjust to him, drawing out a loud moan from you. 

You were writhing underneath him wriggling your hands desperately wanting to feel him and hold on to him. Tom finally took mercy on you as he snakes a hand to your wrists and unties your restraints. As soon as your hands were free you flung them to his back pulling him closer as possible, one hand went to tug on to the roots of his hair. You wrapped your legs around his hips, hooking them behind his back. You could never get enough of him, you needed him deep inside you exploring parts of you that no one could ever reach. He nips at your neck sucking on your skin harshly, making sure for everyone to see who you belong to.

"Who is making you feel this good princess?" His voice raspy and breathless.

"You…" your voice trailed off as he pounds into you mercilessly. 

"Didn't hear you princess" he reaches down to rub where your bodies were connected. 

"You Tom! You!" you shrieked out at the added stimulation.

"That's right baby, I’m the only one who can make you feel like this, no one can make you scream the way I do, no one knows where to touch you like I do" he rubs harsher circles on your sensitive bud and moves his hips to thrust into you deeper, your moans growing louder and louder boosting his ego as your walls clasp around him.

"Fuck! I need to make sure everyone knows who you belong to eh? Maybe put a baby in you, what do you say?" He reckons while he continued to rut his hips

"Yes Tom fill me up, fill me up with your babies" you nod your head furiously as the sound of skin slapping against each other fills the room along with your grunts and moans.

"You will look so pretty baby, all round and beautiful with our child" He brushes your hair gently from your sweat covered face, you were a babbling mess by now unable to form any proper words except his name, his words only spurring you on to your impending climax. He keeps pounding into you even harder than before as you feel your body tense up, toes curling as the coil inside your stomach tightened.

"C'mon baby cum all over my cock, make me fill you up and mark you as mine" He urges and you screamed out when you felt the coil inside you finally snap your walls tightening around him as you came undone raking your nails down his back while his lips captured your swollen ones swallowing your moans as he finally cums inside you filling you up with his warm release and collapses on top of you.

"Mine" he mumbles into your skin between ragged breaths. 

"All yours" you say reassuringly running your fingers through his hair soothingly catching your breath. 

..................................................................................

[ingek73]

Meghan a threat to the royals? That’s one way to sell a book of tawdry gossip

Catherine Bennett

The biographer Tom Bower makes no attempt at balance in a hit job on the Duchess of Sussex

Sat 23 Jul 2022 20.00 (CEST)

The respected biographer, Tom Bower, has been giving some extraordinary interviews about his new study of Meghan Markle and Prince Harry. His book, the calmly entitled Revenge, is not merely, we learn, a comprehensively negative assessment of the couple: Bower would like it actively to damage them. “This book may hasten a downward trend at which I wouldn’t be sad at all,” he told an enchanted Piers Morgan, “because they pose a real threat to the royal family.”

The public should not, you gather, be reassured by the Sussexes’ departure, some time back, for California. Nor deceived by their very minor role at a jubilee widely considered a triumph for the royal family. Nor taken in by the couple’s replacement occupation, now they are non-working royals, of supplying bland, homiletic content to US clients. It is not enough that every display of Sussex sanctimony is already made safe by Bower’s tireless allies in the UK media, with an answering volley from royal experts and body language professionals. Harry’s recent address to the UN was, for instance, immediately brought down with blasts of Sarah Vine and, still struggling to get over Meghan’s ghosting, Piers Morgan.

Bower still scents danger from the deceptively dormant Meghan, “a very scheming, very clever woman”.

After watching her with Oprah, he concluded: “This woman is doing something quite terrible to Britain and Harry has fallen in love with her, you know, in a ludicrous way, and has gone along as her accomplice.” If only Harry had fallen in love with the former actress in a sensible way, like, say, Prince Charles did with his now-venerated Camilla Parker Bowles.

So if Bower’s book, no less than the related interviews, seems suffused with a wild malice, perhaps it comes from a good and loyal place. It is to give the Queen a “final happiness” (that “Meghan and Harry seem determined to deny”) that Bower, as well as detailing Meghan’s ex-lovers, her early hustling for acting roles and determined forging of a personal brand, is compelled to supplement his case against her with insults. He volunteers, for example, that when the former Suits star was interviewed by Larry King, “Meghan looked unusually unattractive with greasy hair, rumpled clothes and peaky eyes”. Finding this still harder to accept than Bower’s conviction that reliance on notorious Markle-haters is a persuasive approach, I had a look. Judge for yourself, but to this viewer the contrast between Bower’s description and Markle’s actual (appealing) appearance is something his editors might, for the sake of reader confidence, have checked on. As it is, they must already hope that a response from one quoted detractor, Sam Kashner, published in the Times last week, will be the last to raise doubts about authorial bias. “I found Ms Markle,” Kashner wrote, “to be exceptionally warm and gracious and admired her intelligence and her remarkable courage, as I still do.” Bower retorts: “That just shows the power of Meghan.”

If the reader sometimes feels more balance might have strengthened his case, the experienced Bower perhaps felt a greater responsibility to awaken a nation yet to comprehend the threat of a controlling woman who is tellingly – a point not previously stressed – not tall. Schemingly, Meghan often wears high heels, but Bower is not fooled. If he’s not the only tall man to betray some pride in having grown himself so successfully, it’s still unusual to see this quality transformed into a royal threat-detector. At Wimbledon with Kate: “The physical comparison was unflattering to Meghan. On her own, Meghan’s radiance won universal applause but beside the taller, authoritative future queen the duchess appeared diminished.” Perhaps this could be deleted in any volume likely to be picked up by the Queen (5’3”), at this delicate point in her reign?

But no logic, in this protracted bitchfest, governs what Bower won’t gleefully cite in the Sussexes’ disfavour, while overlooking similar lapses among his favourites. Harry’s Oprah suit is “ill-fitting”. Thomas Markle looks… like Thomas Markle (the more than sartorial shortcomings of Princess Michael’s “blackamoor” brooch are likewise ignored). The Sussexes’ favourite journalist Omid Scobie, has a face, Bower adds by way of another irrelevant ad hominem, that “changed after working in Japan”. Presumably surgery is being referenced here, as opposed to the climate. “Some would say,” Bower adds, “that as the royal editor for Harper’s Bazaar, the Anglo-Iranian is a propagandist.”

Whether intended as an elegant malice-diffuser or handy gossip-vehicle the some said/would say locutions perform heroically throughout the book, as in one passage about a charity executive: “Some would even say he was besotted by her.”

Some would say, incidentally, that it’s unfortunate in a book that twits Harry for using a wrong word (“recipe” for formula) that Omid Scobie appears on one page as “Omar Scobie”.

To turn to the “explosive” new content promised by Bower’s publishers, the most prized revelations appear to be: Meghan was mean on a fashion shoot; the Queen was glad Meghan didn’t attend the funeral; the Vogue staff didn’t like her either; Meghan, with an outsider’s disregard for British niceties, vexed some of her betters with complaints about their hateful language.

Definitely new is Bower’s diagnosis, without any obvious evidence, of Meghan’s “terrible envy”. With his legal hat on, he suggests that an upheld judgment against a Mail newspaper’s publication of her private letter happened because, “as a class, Britain’s judges were unsympathetic to the Mail newspaper group”.

Returning to the facts, the author concludes that the couple’s messy departure for the US brought the Queen, Charles and William together. “They were forging a united front against the Sussexes.”

Some would say – to borrow again from Bower – that this observable royal resilience makes a further nonsense of his claims about vengeful, Montecito-based “agents of destruction”. As for his book’s contention that the whiny – though threatening – couple never had a thing to complain about: if they didn’t then, they do now.

• Catherine Bennett is an Observer columnist

[don-daygamerz]

Announcement (Requests...Support...)

I want to thank everyone for their love and motivation to keep writing. The likes and feedback for my stories have become so overwhelming. I didn't think my ideas or contents were any good perhaps basic at best but it's nice you enjoyed them. I am an avid reader here on Tumblr and have managed the time to share my stories with you.

I would also like to point out that I will be taking any requests based on the character of your choice (from my list only but that will soon be updated).

Request any post type like:

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Character list:

Ben Barnes

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Prince Caspian

Sirius Black

Chris Evans

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Other lists:

The Lord of the Rings

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All in all, my stories are yours to read, share, comment on, and inspire from. Thank you

[writingisartdarling]

Good afternoon, my dearest friends!

A while ago (quite a long while actually) I bought this Downton Abbey magazine and promised here on Tumblr that I would translate some of the Chelsie bits for you from Finnish to English. And now that I've got one free afternoon in my hands, I finally took it upon myself to get on with this task!

Now, shall we?

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I'll put the photo of the actual page here, scroll down to get a better view!

And now for the rough translation...

'Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes'

'The romance between the leaders of the downstairs bunch Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes burned with a soft flame for years. Signs of the couple's close relationship were seen as the series progressed, including when Mrs. Hughes suspected she had cancer. When the suspicion proved unfounded, Carson, contrary to his character, was seen singing happily. Romance began to be in the air as the couple walked into the water hand in hand on a servants' trip to the beach.

When Mrs. Patmore bought herself a house for when she would retire, Carson decided to do the same and asked Mrs. Hughes to join him. She refused because she had no savings as the only provider for her family.

Carson still bought the house in both of their names and proposed to her, this time successfully. Although the couple had misunderstandings and disagreements about the venue of the wedding, they finally married in the spring of 1925.

At their wedding Carson was seen laughing happily againt his nature.

Hughes: "Of course I'll marry you, ye old booby. I thought you'd never ask!"

-from the "special copy" published with the Finnish magazine "Ilta-Sanomat" from the 27th of April 2022 onwards

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This is basically just things we've heard and read already, but I thought I'd share it nonetheless in case someone was interested. And if someone hadn't known these facts, then that's sorted out now :)

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Lastly I'll put the magazine's content list down below, let me know if there's any part you would like to see me publish about!

Characters:

- Violet Crawley

- the Crawley familytree

- Robert and Cora Crawley

- Tom Branson

- the worst conflicts between Edith and Mary

- the road to stars

- Thomas Barrow

- Daisy Mason, Joseph Molesley

- Charles Carson

- Isobel Crawley

The Fascination:

- the biggest love stories

- the royal fans of Downton Abbey

- What fascinates about Downton Abbey?

- the soundtrack

- most touching deaths

- "A New Era": the perfect hit

Britannia: the kingdom of mansions

- Highclere and it's thousand stories

- the fading glory of the mansions

- the hierarchy of the servants'

Behind the scenes:

- the fashion of Downton Abbey

- Julian Fellowes, the man behind it all

- the wild details of staging

- this is what the actors/actresses truly look like

- behind the scenes: peeks into the backstage

- who is who?

Entertainment:

- the most iconic quotes

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This post streched out quite a bit and I am sorry for that! You can congratulate yourself if you read it this far ❤️

Now, I hope you have an amazing day!