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struggling-with-drivers · 1 month

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Under the Opulence - Max Verstappen

⋗ Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader

⋗ Summary - Your family isn't kind to you, and in fact, they all think Max would be a much better fit for your sister. Max likes to differ.

⋗ Word count - 3.4k words, hurt/comfort

⋗ Masterlist - This has been finished for some time, but I've only gotten around to given it a name Feedback and reblogs are appreciated

The grandeur of your family's foyer, adorned with polished marble and intricate chandeliers, set the stage for Max’s introduction to the world you came from. As you and Max entered, the echoes of your footsteps reverberated through the opulent space, the air charged with excitement and anxiety, but most noticeably on your side, dread.

Gabriella, your sister, emerged from an adjoining room, her presence demanding attention. With her radiant smile and effortless poise, she seemed to glide into the scene like a queen entering her court. She was the star of the family, the golden child who effortlessly commanded attention and adoration. With her striking looks and sharp intellect, she had always been the one to effortlessly charm anyone who crossed her path. Even your past romantic interests had succumbed to her allure, leaving you with the bitter taste of never good enough.

"It's okay, we're sisters," Gabriella would nonchalantly reassure you. "They weren't good enough for you if they wanted me more."

Her eyes, adorned with an air of confidence, locked onto Max, acknowledging his presence with a subtle yet unmistakable hint of curiosity. Bluntly scrutinising Max, she drank him up with her eyes, then she battered her long eyelashes a few times before slotting into the role of the perfect twin sister.

Max, a bit taken aback by the unexpected encounter, met Gabriella's gaze with a polite smile. That was all your sister needed before stepping forward, presenting her hand gracefully, a subtle gesture that belied the underlying power dynamics at play. Max, being the gentleman he was, reciprocated the greeting with a warm shake. However, as the customary exchange lingered for a moment longer than expected, you felt an unspoken tension building.

“Gabriella, but you – my dear – can call me Gabbie.” Her voice sang in the foyer, bouncing so wonderfully off the walls. You wanted nothing more than to leave. Their hands were still intertwined.

Instinctively, you began to withdraw your hand from his left, realising that you were caught in an awkward silence. Gabriella's grip on Max's hand tightened imperceptibly, and you hesitated for a split second, torn between asserting yourself and avoiding a confrontation. Finally, you reluctantly released Max's hand, a subtle concession that felt like surrender.

However, your parents made their grand entrance, drawn by the commotion in the foyer.

Gabriella finally let go of Max. She stepped back, allowing a brief respite from the charged exchange.

Your mother, an elegant woman with an air of sophistication, approached with a warm smile. "Oh, there you all are! We were starting to wonder when you'd make it to the heart of the festivities."

As she spoke, her eyes lingered on Gabriella and Max, a subtle but knowing gleam in her eyes. It was as if she sensed the unspoken currents beneath the surface. Your father, a more reserved figure, stood beside her, observing the scene with a discerning gaze.

"Mom, Dad, this is Max," you introduced, trying to steer the conversation away from the palpable tension that lingered.

With an air of practised nonchalance, Gabriella returned her attention to Max, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Well, Max, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," she purred, her words leaving an ambiguous trail of intentions.

She tried to grasp his hand once again, but instead, he started helping you out of your coat to keep his hands busy.

Max, still wanting to leave a good impression, responded with a friendly smile. "Likewise, Gabriella. Your sister here has spoken highly of you too," he said, casting a glance in your direction, before he extended a polite hand toward your parents, exchanging pleasantries as he tried to steer the conversation towards the two newcomers in the foyer.

Gabriella subtly positioned herself beside him, a silent claim reaffirmed. The atmosphere remained charged, your parents seemingly ignorant of the intricate dynamics playing out before them. The dreadful feeling returned to you as your mom made eye contact with you once more. You averted your eyes.

Gabriella, seizing the opportunity, looped her arm through Max's, as if marking her territory. "Max, let me give you a tour of this magnificent place. There are so many things you haven't seen yet," she exclaimed, her tone holding a mixture of innocence and mischief.

Your heart sank as you watched them disappear into the lavish corridors of your family home.

“Let them go, honey. I’m sure he will be quite interested in our family’s history.” Your mother commented, foregoing the formality of any other type of recognition or greeting to you as she and your dad disappeared after Gabriella and Max.

Leaving you on your own in the opulent foyer, you wished to leave once more.

Determined to regain some semblance of composure, you wandered into the adjacent parlour, a room adorned with plush furniture and rich tapestries. The soft glow of antique lamps cast a warm ambience, but even the comforting setting couldn't dispel the growing unease. You settled into a chair, the plush upholstery offering little solace for the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. The room seemed to close in on you as you anxiously waited for Max and Gabriella to return. The dreadful feeling intensified with every passing moment, and your mind raced with unsettling thoughts.

Finally, the door swung open, and they entered the parlour. Gabriella's laughter echoed through the room. Max wore a polite smile, seemingly having enjoyed the tour, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Gabriella was orchestrating an elaborate performance.

"This place is quite… something," Max said, casting a glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance or acknowledgement. You tried to smile at him. Gabriella, however, continued to dominate the spotlight.

"We have quite the family history," she replied with a sly smile, her eyes flickering between Max and you. "It's a shame you won't be able to hear all the juicy details."

You forced another smile in response, but the unease gnawed at you. As they settled into the room, Gabriella strategically took the seat next to Max, her gestures and expressions aimed at enchanting him right before your eyes.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, a dance of words that excluded you from its rhythm. You felt like a mere observer in your own home, watching as Gabriella captivated Max with tales of the family's past, her laughter ringing like an enchanting melody.

Your attempts to engage in the conversation were met with fleeting glances as if your presence were an afterthought. Gabriella was ever so quick to recapture Max’s attention, despite your valiant efforts to seek a way into the discussion.

Desperate for a reprieve, you finally excused yourself under the pretence of attending to something in the kitchen. As you escaped the room, the weight of the evening bore down on you, and you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this family gathering had become a stage for a performance in which you had no choice but to play a reluctant supporting role.

In the kitchen, you busied yourself with trivial tasks, the rhythmic clinking of dishes providing a brief respite from the orchestrated drama in the parlour. The tension that had followed you from the foyer to the parlour lingered like an unwelcome guest, and you desperately sought a moment of solitude to collect your thoughts.

As you absentmindedly stacked plates from the dishwasher, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing expression. It was as if she could sense the turbulence beneath the composed facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of concern.

You forced a smile, attempting to deflect the obvious discomfort. "I'm fine, just needed a moment away from the chatter in there."

Your mother's eyes softened, but there was a glint of curiosity. "Well, I must say, Gabriella and Max make quite the pair. They look so good together, don't you think?"

The question hung in the air, a subtle prod at the heart of the matter. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you processed the implications of your mother's words. It was a commentary that cut through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

"Oh, Mom, they're just chatting. It doesn't mean anything," you responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

Your mother, however, seemed undeterred. "I don't know, dear. They do seem to have a certain chemistry, don't you think? They'd make a handsome couple."

The weight of her words settled on you like an anvil, and you struggled to find a suitable response. The kitchen, for a brief moment, had been a sanctuary, but now felt like a confessional where you were forced to confront the complexities of your feelings.

"I...I don't know, Mom. It's just an introduction," you stammered, your attempts to maintain composure faltering.

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, and then she sighed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, sometimes we find unexpected connections in the most peculiar places. And if they happen to find something special tonight, well, we should be happy for them, shouldn't we?"

You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness.

“It’s such a shame his looks just aren’t quite there, but he certainly has other features to make up for it. Wouldn’t you say so as well? Yes, a shame, but Gabriella has always been so kind-hearted. I’m sure she doesn’t mind either.” Your mother continued, before finally smiling at you.

Her message was loud and clear, as she had expressed her approval of Max as a suitable match for Gabriella.

Your mother wanted you to break up with Max and hand him over.

It was as though Max was a commodity to be exchanged, a possession for your sister to play with until she grew tired and moved on. It made you feel sick to the stomach.

“Dinner is all ready, your father just put down the roast on the table.”

You followed your mother into the dining room, the scent of the roast filling the air. The grand table, adorned with fine china and polished silverware, became the stage for the next act in this familial drama.

As you took your seat, Max seated next to you, your parents strategically positioned Gabriella opposite Max. The tension in the room was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that every word and gesture would be scrutinised.

"So, Max," your mother began, her eyes flickering between Max and Gabriella, "how did you find our home? Quite exquisite, isn't it?"

Max, thankfully pr-trained, nodded appreciatively. "It's a stunning place with so much history."

Gabriella's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and you braced yourself for what would come next. Your mother, however, wasn't finished.

"And speaking of history," she continued, casting a pointed look at Gabriella, "our family has quite a rich one. Gabriella, why don't you share some of the highlights? Max might find it fascinating."

“It’s alright, I think I heard enough earlier,” Max told your mom, “I would much rather hear childhood stories about her.” He turned his head, making himself able to look into your eyes, and you felt the dread spread. Despite the way he looked at you, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing your parents would not deliver what Max was expecting to be told about.

Max's genuine interest in hearing about your childhood seemed to momentarily disrupt the carefully choreographed performance. Your mother, however, skilfully manoeuvred to maintain the narrative she had meticulously constructed.

"Oh, Max, you're sweet," your mother said, offering a polite smile, "but Gabriella's achievements are the true highlights. She's always been the shining star of our family."

Your sister, seizing the opportunity, began to regale Max with tales of her academic triumphs, artistic pursuits, and social accomplishments. As she spoke, you felt the distance between you and Max widen, a chasm fuelled by your parents' insistence on casting Gabriella as the focal point of the conversation.

Max, sensing the discomfort, tried to redirect the conversation toward a more inclusive narrative. "I'm sure there are some other stories you could tell, perhaps some that aren’t about Gabriell-?"

“Please Max, do call me Gabby.” Gabriella interrupted Max.

Your mother exchanged a knowing glance with your father before responding, "Oh, there are plenty of stories, but I think Gabriella's achievements are what make our family truly special. Don't you agree, Max?"

Max hesitated for a moment, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. However, not wanting to create a scene, he nodded uncomfortably, "Yes, I guess Gabriella is quite accomplished."

Gabriella shot you a coy smile, her triumph was evident in the subtle control she exerted over the narrative. As the conversation continued to revolve around her, Max's attempts to steer it in a different direction seemed to hit an invisible wall.

Your parents, seemingly oblivious to Max's growing discomfort, continued to extol Gabriella's virtues. The room buzzed with the clinking of silverware and the murmur of praise, all while you sat there, a silent observer of your own family dinner.

As dessert was served, Max couldn't hide the subtle tenseness in his shoulders. He glanced at you, a mix of empathy and frustration in his eyes. Despite the challenging circumstances, you appreciated his efforts to bridge the gap.

When Max tried to ask about your childhood again, your mother skilfully redirected the conversation. "Oh, Max, we can talk about that another time. Let's focus on the present moment and enjoy the evening."

Your sister, seizing every opportunity to keep the spotlight, interjected, "You know, Max, I've always been curious about your interests and aspirations. Tell us more about yourself."

The shift in attention to Max was noticeable, but it wasn't the genuine interest he had hoped for. Instead, it felt like another tactic to steer the conversation away from you. Max, his patience waning, briefly shared short anecdotes about his work, nothing he hadn’t already told to the media. However, his eyes kept returning to you, his fingers intertwined with you. As though you were oblivious to the way your sister's feet – under the table – were trying to urge Max to look at her.

The night wore on, and Max's frustration continued to build, a silent storm brewing within him. The genuine smile he had worn upon arrival had now transformed into a tight-lipped expression, betraying his growing discontent.

Your dad had taken it upon himself to serve a glass of whiskey to him and Max, while your mother brought forth an array of finger foods and other light and savoury snacks. Your family settled around the nice fireplace in the big sitting room, it’s even more extravagant and opulent than the smaller parlour room you had tried to take refuge in earlier in the day.

When your sister, seemingly oblivious to the tension, leaned closer to Max, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "You know, Max, we're so thrilled to have you here. It's not often we get such distinguished company."

Max, no longer willing to play along, shifted uncomfortably on the beige couch. "Thank you for having me. It's been... quite an experience," he replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge.

Your father, still under the illusion that the evening had gone splendidly, raised his glass. "A toast! To family and new beginnings."

Max's frustration reached its peak as his eyes locked on your dad’s raised glass. Max abruptly stood up, the sound of him slamming his glass down echoing in the sudden silence. The tension in the room was palpable as he looked directly at your parents.

"I appreciate your hospitality, but I can't ignore the blatant disregard for your own daughter," he said, his voice measured but firm. "I came here hoping to learn more about her, but it seems the spotlight is reserved for someone else."

Gabriella's eyes widened in feigned innocence, a practised mask that Max wasn't buying. Your parents exchanged uneasy glances, finally sensing the budding cracks in their carefully constructed facade.

"I won't be a part of a charade that dismisses her existence," Max continued, his frustration now laid bare. "If you can't appreciate the amazing person she is, then I want no part in this. Goodnight."

Without waiting for a response, Max pulled you from the couch. As you both retreated from the sitting room, leaving behind the echoes of tension and shattered illusions, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow.

Max led you through the ornate hallways of your family home, the grandeur of the surroundings now feeling suffocating. The air outside was cool and crisp as you stepped onto the front porch, the distant sounds of the night providing a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere within.

He turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to be like this."

You managed a small smile, appreciating his genuine intentions. "It's not your fault. Thank you for trying."

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Your family... it's not what I expected."

You nodded, feeling a lump forming in your throat. "It's never been easy."

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but you deserve better than this," Max said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

As Max navigated the darkened streets, a palpable tension and heavy silence filled the car ride home between you and him. The glow of streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his determined expression, the lines of worry etched into his brow.

You sat beside him, lost in your thoughts, the events of the evening replaying in your mind like a broken record. The weight of the strained interactions with your family weighed heavily on your shoulders, a burden you couldn't shake.

Max glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence that had enveloped the car.

You sighed, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I don't know, Max. Tonight was… a lot. I’m sorry for Gabriella."

“They shouldn’t have said any of that.” Max ignored your comment, “that’s not- even I know that’s now how you treat family.”

“I’m sorry for Gabriella.” You tried to tell him once again, instead finding his hand reaching out to tangle it into yours.

As Max's hand intertwined with yours, a comforting warmth spread through your fingertips, grounding you in the present moment. His touch was a lifeline, offering solace amidst the turmoil that had consumed your family gathering. You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating the silent support he offered.

Max pulled the car over, letting him turn to you and gaze into your eyes.

"I know you're sorry, love," Max whispered, his voice laced with understanding. "But you can't take responsibility for someone else's idiotic words. Gabriella's actions were uncalled for, and it's not your parents should have stopped it, not… Encouraged it."

His words resonated deep within you, reminding you that you were not solely accountable for the strained relationship with your parents. The weight on your shoulders began to lighten as if Max's presence alone could alleviate the burden.

You turned to him, finally meeting his concerned gaze. "Thank you, Max. Your support means the world to me."

He smiled softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, alright?"

A surge of gratitude washed over you, grateful for the unwavering love and understanding Max consistently provided. You squeezed his hand once more, as he pulled out of the ditch.

The car continued to glide through the darkened streets, but the heavy silence had transformed into a comforting embrace of shared vulnerability.

As the glow of streetlights continued to cast fleeting shadows, you realised that it was in the darkest moments that the strength of your relationship with Max shone the brightest. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you knew that together, you could weather any storm or awful family dinner.

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, sorry that it took so long to post this one

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forteafy · 10 months

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3 + max!

MV1 x 'You and your stupid smile...Get that shit away from me.'

I've NEVER written for Max before, but I'm low-key in my enemies to lovers arc with him.

Loosing your paddock pass was bad; the rain tricking down the back of your neck was worse.

Working behind-the-scenes of Formula 1 came with some incredible perks; good pay, cooperate outings & the anonymity of your life; you’d seen it go really bad for some couples which had gone public. The same had gone for you and your ex-boyfriend, the golden child of Christian Horner.

After a few weeks of cold stares and silence, the press had died down on your part, leaving you alone whilst the cameras were continuously shoved into Max’s face; his stance was to keep his head down, his target solely being his third championship. Eventually, you faded back into one of the unknown faces of Red Bull Racing, a whisper sometimes crossing from a rival team; you. It was you. The ex-girlfriend of Max Verstappen.

Albeit, being well-known may have helped you in your current situation. Instead, you were stood in front of a security guard, arms folded as he waiting for you to pull out a pass. In all fairness, how many women showed up in team attire, playing the card that they had ‘forgotten’ their pass? Your phone was still at the hotel; a silent regret you had thought of, imagining your pass laid atop of it on your mad rush to leave that morning. Fuck Christian Horner for moving the meeting two hours earlier.

You were on the verge of admitting defeat- you would have admitted defeat, if not for the sudden eyebrow raise by the security guard and the voice emitting from behind you.

“She’s okay. She’s with me.” He nods, pulling his cap tighter to his head upon the weather becoming heavier. There’s a gentle pressure at the small of your back; after giving a thankful nod towards the security guard, Max leads the two of you through the barrier, waiting until you reached the other side to raise his eyebrows at you.

“No pass? That’s not like you.” He hums; his voice seems almost a ghost, having barely spoken more than ten words to one another in the past few months.

“No. Blame your boss.” You huff, feeling your clothes dampen by the minute. On top of the triple header, it seems you’re going to be carrying a huge cold through Austria and Silverstone. “Who moves forward a meeting at four in the morning?”

Max can’t help the smirk settling on his face; he’d miss this. The upmost sulking. The sheer black-cat energy that emitted from you. Everybody had been used to seeing him as the grumpy trope, anybody who knew the two of you understood it was so, so different.

“Don’t.” You snap, the wind only getting heavier, now soaking through the Red-Bull shirt you’d freshly steamed that morning.

“Don’t what?”

“You and your stupid smile…get that shit away from me.”

You’d not been able to get his grin out of your mind for weeks. Interviews, meetings, press conferences, nights out. It was always there, a reminder he wasn’t the cold, heartless brute the media could paint him as.

Your mind is drawn out of its trance of thoughts when you feel a sudden warmth pressed around your shoulders, vision darkening as something covers your sodden head; Max had wiggled out of his own windbreaker, slipping it around your body, pulling the hood up to cover your head. The man waits patiently, and at this point your body is so cold, it will take anything.

It’s clearly not thinking either, as once you’ve adjusted the garment, you automatically reach out to clasp Max’s hand, breath catching when you feel nothing but raindrops and cold air.

You prey he hasn’t noticed, ready to simply thank him for his gesture and walk on. What you didn’t expect, was for his hand to find yours, motioning forward, hands interlocked for the first time in months. And you couldn’t be mad, not truly. Not when you looked up at the man whom sacrificed his warmth and dry for you.

And especially not with that smile. A smile that emitted when Daniel walked past, eyes widening at seeing his favourite couple reunited for the first time in months.

Max says nothing, but his smile says it all.

#MV1 #Max Verstappen #Max Verstappen x Reader #Max Verstappen Imagine #Max Verstappen One Shot #Max Verstappen x Y/N #Max Verstappen x You #Max #Lestappen #Verstappen #F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Formula 1 x Reader #Red Bull #RBR #Red Bull Oracle

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ofstarsandvibranium · 8 months

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Unexpectedly Yours: Part 1

Fandom: Ted Lasso (Regency AU)

Pairing: Roy Kent x F!Reader

Summary: Lord Roy Kent still has yet to marry. He hates the notion that marriage is a way to ensure your status in society. You have delayed your debut to society for years because of the same idea. So what happens when two people who hate the idea of marriage are constantly drawn to each other?

A/N: inspired by my post here. probably gonna be 2 or 3 parts max mini series.

You thought you'd have more time. You thought you'd be able to enjoy your youth for just a bit longer, but your time is up. Now five and twenty, your parents can no longer let you delay your debut to society any longer. Tonight, your debut ball, is probably going to be the worst night of your life.

__________________________

Lord Roy Kent wasn't too keen on moving from London to the small town of Richmond. However, after his brother-in-law's passing, he understood his sister's need for a change of scenery. So he bought an estate in Richmond for him, his sister, and his niece to live in.

Not long after their move, the Roy and his family were already being invited to take part in society, albeit, a small portion of it, but still a notable population of it.

"We should go," Lord Kent's sister, Clara, insists after viewing the invitation over her brother's shoulder.

"Why?"

"We should socialize, Roy. We didn't move here just to be holed up in the house all day. Come on, it could be good for us." Lord Kent groans, and Clara nudges him, "Fine. Don't go. Phoebe and I will go ourselves. I'm sure there will be some children there she could befriend."

Hating the idea of his sister and niece going by themselves gave Lord Kent the push he needed, "Fine. I'll go."

Clara beams at her older brother, "Wonderful!" she plucks the invitation from her brother's hand, "I'll send back a reply that the three of us will be attending."

_________________________

The day of the ball, your mother was fussing in a way you have never seen before. You and your young cousin, Cecelia, watch your mother flutter about ordering servants and cooks in a very frightening manner.

"I don't like who auntie is right now," your eight year old cousin whispers to you.

You snort, "Just wait until you debut, I'm sure it'll be just the same. Maybe worse."

Cecelia grimaces and then sighs, "Do you think other children will be attending? I've made sure all of my dolls look pretty if they do."

"I'm sure a few will come, Cece."

"Is Keeley coming? I like playing with her."

You softly smile at Cecelia, "Yes, but she won't be able to play with you, darling. She has to socialize with everyone and, most importantly, keep any potential suitors away from me," you give your cousin a joking nudge.

Your attention is suddenly on your mother as she starts scolding one of your handmaidens. You rush over to them and step in-between them, "Mother, what happened?"

"The flower arrangements are all wrong! They don't look how I want them to. They-"

"Mother," you place your hands on her shoulders, "Breathe." You then nod to your handmaiden and she scurries away. You guide her to a nearby bench and sit beside her, "I've never seen you so stressed before. You've planned balls prior to this."

"Yes, but this is especially important. This is your debut. The time for you to finally find a husband. Potential suitors will be here and everything needs to be perfect! Most importantly, Lord Kent and his family will be attending."

Your brows shoot up in surprise, "Really?"

You've heard news about the new lord and his family. They moved to the small town of Richmond due to Lord Kent's sister's husband passing away. She has a daughter around the same age as Cecelia.

Lady O'Sullivan, Lord Kent's sister, and her daughter, Phoebe, have been seen out, but there have been very few sightings of Lord Kent. He's, essentially, an anomaly, a mystery that everyone is trying to solve.

You? You have no particular interest in him at all, even if he is attending the ball held in your honor.

"Mother, I'm sure however the flower arrangements turn out, it'll be fine. Everything will be fine."

_____________________________

When Lord Kent, Lady O'Sullivan, and Phoebe arrive, there are already many guests present. As soon as they step foot into your home, your mother is rushing up to them.

"Lord Kent, it is an honor to be your host for tonight."

Clara steps forward, "Thank you so much for the invitation, Lady L/N," she thanks your mother with a curtsey. She then gestures to her brother, "This is my brother, Lord Kent and my daughter, Phoebe."

Your mother curtsies to Lord Kent and smiles at Phoebe, "Hello Phoebe. My niece is upstairs with other children. If you go to Jane," she points at the woman at the bottom of the stairs, "she can take you to them."

Phoebe looks up at her mother and when she receives a nod, she hastily rushes to Jane, ready to play with other children.

"I hope you enjoy the ball," your mother says, "My daughter, Y/N, is somewhere here, either mingling or hiding," she gives a sorry expression and then moves to greet other arriving guests.

Lord Kent groans as he enters the ballroom and Clara elbows him, "Behave. Go converse, mingle." Lord Kent slowly turns his head and glares at his sister, who then snorts, "Or stand in a corner and look menacing." She leaves her brother's side, heading for the h'orderves.

Lord Kent assumed his intimidating stature. His hands clasped behind his back as he walks around the ballroom. It was much smaller than ones he's been in when he lived in London. Still, it was impressive for a home in a small town.

"Sir?" a servant offers a tray of drinks and Lord Kent takes one. He sips the beverage, still wandering around the room, a looming and intimidating presence.

__________________

Your dance card had filled up quick. Left and right were you pulled around the dance floor by different prospects of men. They were all so...boring.

After another dance, you drag your body to the corner where Keeley and her fiancé, James, or Jamie as he liked to be referred to, stood in the corner talking and drinking.

"So?" your best friend asks with hopeful eyes.

"Just as boring as the last," you say as James offers you a drink, "Honestly, I don't understand how you dealt with this for years until this numpty finally turned himself around," you gesture to Jamie.

Jamie shrugs, "I'm just lucky she was willing to give me another chance," he kisses Keeley's cheek lovingly and you inwardly sigh. You always hoped to have a love like theirs. Yes, it was rocky at the start, but Jamie had changed himself around to be the man Keeley deserved.

"Yes, well," you lift your now empty glass, "I'm going to get another one of these." As soon as you turn around, you bump into a man, causing his drink to spill over him.

Your eyes widen, "I'm-"

"Watch where you're going," he rasps out.

You're taken aback, "Excuse me?"

"You need to be more aware of your surroundings," the man says with a frown.

You scoff, "Well I didn't know you were right behind me, so maybe it's you who needs to be aware of your surroundings and not stand so close to people!"

The man's brows furrow and just as he opens his mouth to retort, your mother appears by his side, "I am so sorry about this, Lord Kent. I'm sure this was an accident, right, Y/N?"

"Yes, an accident," you say, glaring at Lord Kent.

"We will happily pay for a new coat," you mother says and you roll your eyes.

"It's fine," Lord Kent mumbles and turns on his heel, going back in the direction he came.

Your mother turns to you with a stern expression, "You best hope you didn't upset Lord Kent too much."

"It was an accident, mother. Besides, he stood too close to me. How was I suppose to know he was right behind me?"

__________________________

After the ball ended, you were so exhausted. The dancing, the mingling, all of it was too much. Several men had asked to call upon you, but you had declined, to your mother's dismay.

A week later, you thought you would have a break from your mother's meddling in your future. However, you were very wrong.

Your mother had called you in and surprised you with a guest.

"Lord Kent?" you look at him confusedly and then give your mother a questioning stare.

"Lord Kent accompanied his niece, Phoebe, here so she can play with Cecelia."

"How...thoughtful," you clear your throat and smooth out your dress, "Well, I'll let you two talk while I go back to reading," you move to step out of the room, but your mother stops you.

"Wait, darling, can you keep Lord Kent company for a moment? I just need to check in with the kitchen for lunch. It'll be only for a moment." she looks at you expectantly. You know exactly what she's doing and you don't like it one bit. She's already been on you about rejecting several suitors. A part of you regrets that now because, maybe if you hadn't, you wouldn't be forced to sit here with Lord Kent.

"Very well," you slowly lower yourself onto the bench beside your mother.

Your mother jumps to her feet excitedly, "Lovely! I will be back shortly!" you watch her scurry out of the room but not before giving a nod to your handmaiden.

You sigh and turn your attention to Lord Kent whom is sitting up straight, face void of any expression. His dark brown eyes staring back at you.

You wiggle in your seat, slightly unnerved with his gaze, "So, are you enjoying our little town, Lord Kent?"

He gives you a grunt and after cocking a brow at him, he speaks, "As much as I can. It's very quiet. Society is still just as nosey here."

You snort, "You have no idea." You clear your throat again, "Have my parents bought you a new jacket to replace the one I ruined?"

"No."

"Oh? Why not?"

"I told them not to. The jacket wasn't very important to me to begin with."

"Seemed rather important enough for you to snap at me," you can't help but say the statement with a little disdain.

"I...apologize for my behavior. I had a distasteful encounter with someone prior that made me upset. I'm not excusing my behavior, but providing some context to what led to it."

You nod, accepting his behavior, "Who did you encounter? Was it Lady Radcliffe and her daughter, Lavinia?"

Lord Kent rises a brow at you, "How did you know?"

"They always stir trouble. I told mother not to invite them but she didn't want to look bad for not," you shake your head, your nose scrunched up, "All that family cares about it maintaining a higher status."

"Doesn't everybody?"

You shake your head, "Not me. I don't care about any of it. I dislike how dishonorable and ingenuine people become when they find out you have a high place in society. I know I'm privileged to have enough money to live comfortably, however, I don't like the theatrics of it all."

Lord Kent leans forward, resting his elbows over his knees, "You sound very passionate about this considering you just held a ball to do just that."

You scoff, "Please, as if that was truly what I wanted. I've pushed my debut back for years. I couldn't delay it anymore."

"No one caught your eye last night then?"

"Not anyone in the slightest," you sigh, "What about you then? I imagine many ladies throw themselves at your feet because of your status. Doesn't it get tiring? Doesn't it feel like you're being used?"

Before Lord Kent can answer, your cousin and Phoebe are rushing into the room, "Y/N, we need your help!"

"With?"

"We want to play princesses and dragons!" Cece answers excitedly.

"You want me to play the dragon?"

"No, you're playing the princess, we're playing the dragons, and Uncle Roy will play the knight that rescues you!" Phoebe replies, pointing to everyone and giving them their roles.

"Oh, um," you glance at Lord Kent, "I don't think your uncle-"

"Let's go," Lord Kent says as he stands to his feet.

"Really?!" Cece looks up at him with excitement.

"Really?" you ask him in surprise. He shrugs, causing you to then stand, "Alright. Let's go."

"Yes!" the two young girls cry out as they rush out of the room and up the stairs to Cece's play room.

You and Lord Kent follow at a much slower pace. Lord Kent, walking besides you, leans in and whispers, "Phoebe's been struggling to make friends since we've moved. I'm happy she found a friend in Cecelia."

"I can't imagine how hard it must've been. Losing her father and moving away."

"It hasn't been easy, but I've been doing my best to see to that her and my sister are well taken care of."

You place a hand on Lord Kent's arm, "You're a good brother and man, my Lord. I don't know many men who would do the same."

Lord Kent, glances at your hand and then you pull away, mumbling a 'sorry', before rushing to Cecelia's play room.

Lord Kent proceeds to follow you at the same slow pace. His fists clench behind his back where he clasps them. There's a fluttering in his chest that he's never felt before and he's sure he's going to have a heart attack.

#roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine #regency au #ted lasso au #ted lasso

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tfcaptions2 · 8 months

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In the heart of a vibrant college town, the sun hung low in the sky, casting its warm golden hue over the bustling streets. Laughter and youthful exuberance filled the air as students soaked in the leisurely vibes of a weekend afternoon. Amidst this lively scene walked two friends, Joseph and Mike, their carefree spirits riding the tide of youthful revelry. They were college buddies, sharing not just academic burdens but also the joys of camaraderie that made the college experience truly memorable.

On this particular afternoon, the duo found themselves separated from the rest of their friends, a result of their boisterous laughter and their inability to resist an enticing game of "truth or dare." As their friends disappeared around a corner, Joseph's mischievous grin grew wider. "Hey, Mike, I've got a dare for you," he said, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint.

Mike raised an eyebrow, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "What is it?"

Joseph's grin only intensified. "See that bar over there? 'The Stache'? I dare you to go in, just for a moment. Who knows what kind of adventure might await you?"

Mike's eyes widened as he glanced at the bar Joseph pointed at. "The Stache?" he repeated, his voice tinged with uncertainty. It wasn't just any bar; it was a gay bar, a place he had never even considered entering before. His heart raced as he hesitated, his mind running through a flurry of thoughts. He was straight, after all, and stepping into such a place felt like venturing into uncharted territory.

Joseph nudged Mike playfully. "Come on, it's just a dare. What's the worst that could happen?"

Mike bit his lip, his nerves warring with his curiosity. After a moment's hesitation, he took a deep breath and nodded, his resolve firming. "Alright, fine. I'll do it."

Joseph's eyes gleamed with excitement as he slapped Mike on the back. "That's the spirit! I'll wait right here."

With a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, Mike walked towards the entrance of "The Stache." As he stepped inside, the air seemed to change around him, charged with a different kind of energy. The low hum of conversations, the dim lighting that painted everything in shades of mystery—it was all so new, so unfamiliar.

The bartender shot him a knowing smile as Mike approached. "First time here?"

Mike nodded, feeling a flush creeping up his cheeks. "Yeah."

The bartender leaned in, his voice low and soothing. "Relax, honey. You're in for a treat. What can I get you?"

Mike's eyes scanned the array of colorful bottles on the shelves behind the bar. "Uh, just a beer, please."

As the bartender fetched his drink, Mike's gaze wandered, taking in the eclectic mix of patrons. Men of all types, ages, and styles filled the space, each exuding a sense of confidence that seemed to transcend societal norms. He felt both out of place and strangely drawn in by the palpable aura of acceptance that surrounded him.

As the cold beer slid into his hand, Mike took a sip, his nerves gradually giving way to a sense of intrigue. He looked around, his gaze landing on a group of men in the corner. Their laughter was infectious, their camaraderie genuine. One of them caught his eye—a man with a rugged, mature charm that exuded confidence.

The man smiled at Mike, raising an eyebrow in invitation. "You look like you could use some company," he purred, his voice a rich melody that resonated within Mike's core.

Mike's heart raced as he felt a strange pull towards this stranger. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. He took another sip of his beer, trying to steady himself.

The man's companions joined in, their teasing playful yet inviting. "Come on over, handsome. We don't bite—unless you want us to."

A nervous chuckle escaped Mike's lips as he found himself moving towards them, his curiosity overpowering his initial hesitation. The group welcomed him with open arms, their laughter and warmth enveloping him. They introduced themselves—names like Max, Leo, and Chris—each with a story that seemed to reflect a tapestry of experiences.

As the afternoon sun cast long shadows through the windows, something within Mike began to shift. It started subtly, like a faint tremor beneath the surface. He felt a tingling sensation at the back of his neck, a sensation that rippled down his spine and settled in the pit of his stomach. He tried to ignore it, attributing it to the excitement of the moment.

Yet, as the minutes ticked by, Mike's surroundings seemed to blur, the edges of reality softened by the haze of alcohol and the company he was in. He took another sip of his beer, only to find it tasted different—richer, deeper. It was as if his senses were heightened, attuned to a different frequency.

The man named Leo leaned closer, his lips grazing Mike's ear as he whispered, "You're in for a transformation, handsome. Just go with the flow."

Mike's heart raced, his pulse quickening as those words reverberated through him. He tried to speak, but his words faltered, lost in the maelstrom of sensations that flooded his being. The room seemed to shift around him, the lights flickering as if dancing to a hidden rhythm.

And then, it began.

Mike felt a subtle constriction around his chest, as if an invisible hand tightened a leather band around him. His clothes—the casual college attire he had worn—began to change. The fabric shifted and contorted, molding itself into something entirely different. His jeans transformed into tight leather pants, hugging his legs in a way that felt both foreign and strangely alluring. A thick leather belt cinched his waist, its weight grounding him in this surreal experience.

He looked down, his heart pounding, and saw his hands covered in leather gloves, each finger encased in supple warmth. He raised his arms, noticing the leather bands that adorned his wrists, their presence both comforting and thrilling.

The man named Max chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Looks like someone's embracing the kink," he said, his voice dripping with innuendo.

Mike's cheeks flushed, his confusion mingling with a growing sense of arousal. He tried to protest, to demand an explanation, but his voice remained trapped within him, as if the transformation had claimed even his ability to resist.

As Mike's body underwent its gradual metamorphosis, his skin tingled with newfound sensitivity. He felt the sensation of hair sprouting across his chest, a carpet of dark fur that seemed to bloom beneath his fingertips. The texture was unfamiliar, yet strangely intoxicating, as if each strand of hair held a secret promise.

Leo's fingers traced the curve of Mike's jaw, his touch igniting sparks of sensation that danced along his nerve endings. "You're becoming something extraordinary," he murmured, his lips brushing against Mike's skin.

Mike's breath hitched as he felt his body growing older, each passing second etching the passage of time upon him. His muscles seemed to firm, his frame broadening as if sculpted by the hands of experience. His shoulders squared, his posture shifting to one of undeniable authority.

And then, as if in response to a symphony of desires, Mike felt the tickling sensation of hair sprouting at his temples, his once-youthful hairline beginning to recede. A mirror caught his eye, and as he turned to look, he saw his reflection transformed. The man staring back at him exuded an aura of rugged masculinity, a seasoned allure that went beyond the years he had lived.

But it wasn't just his appearance that had changed. Mike felt a shift deep within, a transformation of his very essence. Desires that had once lain dormant now surged to the surface, unabashed and unapologetic. He felt a hunger, an ache for the intimacy and connection that had once seemed foreign to him. His heart beat in time with the pulsating rhythms of the bar, syncing with the beat of his newfound identity.

The room seemed to pulse with a different kind of energy, an energy that resonated with his own. He gazed around, meeting the eyes of those who had become his companions, his allies in this journey of self-discovery. Their knowing smiles and encouraging nods told him that he wasn't alone—that this transformation was as much a part of him as it was a part of the world he now inhabited.

And then, in the midst of this sensory whirlwind, Mike felt it—the final flourish of his metamorphosis. A tingling sensation blossomed above his upper lip, the sensation of a mustache sprouting forth. It grew rapidly, thick and luscious, framing his lips in a way that felt as natural as his next breath. As he touched it, he marveled at the texture, at the way it seemed to embody his newfound confidence and allure.

The man he had been, the straight college guy who had hesitated at the threshold of this bar, was now a distant memory. In his place stood a middle-aged leather bear, a man of experience and desires that ran deeper than the surface. He met his own gaze in the mirror once again, and there was no trace of hesitation, no flicker of doubt. He was reborn, transformed, and fully alive in this newfound identity.

Minutes later, as Mike left "The Stache," a confident smile played upon his lips. The man who had entered only moments before had vanished entirely, replaced by this mustachioed figure who exuded a magnetic energy that drew gazes and stirred desires. He looked around, his eyes locking onto a college boy waiting on the street corner, the same corner where his transformation had begun.

Their eyes met, and the mustachioed man's lips curved into a knowing smirk. He beckoned with a single gesture, his fingers curling in invitation. The college boy's heart raced, a mixture of curiosity and excitement coursing through him. He took a step forward, crossing the threshold into a world that promised exploration, connection, and a transformation of his own.

And as the door to "The Stache" closed behind them, the world outside faded into the background, leaving only the pulsating heartbeats of desire and possibility that echoed within those walls. The story had come full circle, the transformation complete, and a new chapter of exploration was about to begin.

#male transformation #male transformation caption

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snickerdoodlles · 20 days

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Loved your answer to the: "How would you rank the Theeranyakapuls in terms of clinginess?" ask. Can we have Kittisawats as well please?

(prev) (and ❤❤!!)

if the theerapanyakuls are "everything i've let go of has claw marks" boys, the kittisawats are "i will cling until it shatters in my grip"

Porsche: man does not let anything go except grudges. the only reason why he doesn't hold grudges is because he's too busy trying to hold onto EVERYTHING ELSE. Vegas is shooting him but Porsche refuses to lose a friend. Kinn fucks up crossing lines but Porsche won't let go of his cute smile. absolutely never would've taken up Kinn's demand he runs away because it'd mean letting Kinn go. bows to mafia recruitment before giving up his childhood home. Porsche is still holding onto a promise he made to his mother when he was like six years old max. i maintain the only reason why Porsche tells Arthee to go away is because he was already negotiating his mafia contract in his head and couldn't risk anything on Chay's safety because he knew he wouldn't be around, he never would've let Arthee just walk out of their life without those special circumstances. honestly this is such a large part of why Kinn and Porsche work together so perfectly, neither of them ever want to let go of their people and they collect people under their umbrellas at a downright alarming rate.

Chay: also clings to things until they shatter except he is extremely choosy in what he clings to. he has to be, he doesn't have a choice given how hard he loves and how little he has. as furious as he is with Porsche leaving him to join the mafia, he will bow and accept all of Porsche's choices so he can keep his brother. there's no other choice to him really. Chay's already shown he's willing to give up everything else for Porsche, from their home to his dreams to their uncle, and he can't have already drawn that line and then give up Porsche too right after he got him back. he clings to Kim just as hard until Kim shatters it-- i will always maintain Chay approaching Kim after the mafia reveal was just to confirm if he was reading Kim's feelings correctly (he was). Chay would've accepted the mafia and the scheming in a heartbeat so long as Kim's feelings for him were real (they were). Kim walks away from him then, but even then, that isn't what shatters them-- when Kim interrupts him at the club, Chay lets Kim pull him away. he is more than willing to hear Kim out then, he just wants to know if Kim cares (he does). except instead of explaining himself when Chay demands an explanation, Kim says "fine, i'll stay out of your business from now on." that's when Chay gives up Kim, because Kim keeps showing that he cares but claiming the opposite, and Chay can't hold onto someone to his typical degree of sacrifice if he doesn't think they'll stay in the end. that's why he blocks Kim. that's why "why don't you stay" is the perfect apology-- the song that first brought them together, the song they worked on together, the song where Kim lays himself bare to say "i have nothing to offer, i can't drag you into my mess, i desperately want you to be here with me anyways." of course that would reach Chay, who's only wish in life is that his two people stay with him through hell and fire and let him take care of them as much they take care of him. of course that'd open the door back up with Chay, who just wants Kim to explain how he cares and stay.

the kittisawats' clinginess is actually the heart of one of my most favorite kp story concepts ever, which is pushing the mafia aspect to the point where it shatters something in Chay and he has to leave. because Chay will give up so much to stay with Porsche. if he's pushed to the point where he leaves Porsche, either Chay has Kim to fall back on or Chay has nothing, and both options are so much fun for different reasons. and then for Porsche...oh my god, Porsche. Porsche holds onto everything, but his top priority is still Chay. a large part of why he can hold onto everything else is because Chay works so hard to make himself okay and hold Porsche back, so having Chay hit a point where he can't would destabilize Porsche so bad. sure, he has everything else, but what does that matter if he doesn't have Chay? Porsche and Chay are so tightly intertwined and so desperately clingy in the same way that even just straining their relationship brings all this out. "what happens when you can no longer hold onto the person you'd give up everything for?" is a delightfully crunchy story question and so good for these two especially ❤

#kinnporsche #kimchay #wow hi i still have SO many feelings about chay esp <3 #but seriously i love how fiercely porsche and chay love #they're 10x more clingy than the theerapanyakuls if only because the mafia boys *had* to learn how to let things go or otherwise shatter #porsche and chay would lose their hands before they willingly let go #i love these boys <3<3 #ask game: headcanon gacha

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1caru · 2 months

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1k followers celebration let's go!!! 🎊

I can't believe there's a thousand of you here even after filtering out bots lol

Anyway yeah, thanks a ton!! I'm not really sure what to say, I've never been one to care about numbers but this is still an honor to see! I'm glad y'all enjoy my art and have decided to stick around in this little corner of the internet. It's been so much fun sharing my work and reading every response, so thanks again for the support!

I'd say this calls for a special event, so I'm opening art requests for a few days! If there's something you want me to draw, shoot me an ask and I'll whip up a nice little colored sketch for you!

Some rules for this event:

One request per person (anon asks will temporarily be disabled so I can enforce this easily).

I will draw for any fandom I've previously drawn for (Legend of Zelda, Linked Universe, Kid Icarus, Genshin Impact, Fire Emblem, Pandora Hearts, Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle, etc). You are allowed to request art for fandoms other than these, but I can't promise that I will fulfill your request.

Max 3 characters per picture.

Ships are allowed as long as they follow the next rule.

No nsfw, incest, pedophilia, or excessive gore please.

Requests will close on Sunday, March 10th at 12am EST, so get your asks in before then!

Thanks again!!! <3

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cherry-blossom-qf · 2 months

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BEHOLD!! THE AU I'VE BEEN COOKING UP FOR MONTHS!!

DIGIMOM CODENAME: DREAMLAND!

Basic Story Info: Susie is the daughter of Max Haltmann, the CEO and founder of his own computer company. (kinda like the original Susie lol)

But on her 18th birthday, a bunch of Digimon came through a portal and kidnapped her father and half the employees of the company. And it's up to Susie to save her father from whatever evil Digimon is behind all of this.

Accompanying her as her digital partners are the first two friendly Digimon she met in the Digital World. Marxamon and Magomon. Two sneaky little scam artists that Susie saved from an angry mob.

Once they heard her story, they both (eventually) agreed to help Susie find her father and protect her from the dangers of the Digital World, with Susie mysteriously gaining a Digivice in the form of a wrist watch as a symbol of their friendship.

Together, the three of them traveled all across the Digital World, fighting battles, solving mysteries, exploring new areas, you get the idea.

-------

Info on Susie: A young girl from the city of [insert place in Japan that isn't effing Tokyo]. She's a headstrong go-getter and intelligent gal, who's a major tech wizard, finding comfort in machinery and modeling. She has a weakness to cute fluffy things and sweet treats. She's a huge "papa's girl", as her loving father is the best dad (and only parent) a girl could ask for. Which makes finding him even more important to her.

-------

Info on Marxamon: A silly little jester bat digimon that shares DNA with the Demon Lord of Gluttony, Beelzemon, and a childhood friend of Magomon. With a "gives no shits" attitude and a craving for mischief, Marxamon is always up for a good prank or two. His special move "Spiraling Scream" has been known to leave even the strongest of champions feeling dizzy and temporarily deaf.

His Champion evolution, Jecksmon, is no different. Growing bigger wings, longer legs, and an even bigger taste for mischief than before! Having the ability to create mirrored copies of himself with his special move "Mirror Dance", and shoots blasts of chaotic energy from his mouth with his other move "Soul Cannon", he truly becomes chaos reincarnated!

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Info on Magomon: A little bell-shape feline magician that shares DNA with the Demon Lord of Greed, Barbamon, and a childhood friend of Marxamon. Although somewhat timid, his cunning and clever nature shows no bounds, treating almost anything like a performance he must perfect. Shrouding his secrets in veils of lies that he swears to never unravel, as it might bring unwanted attention, (aka: this bitch's got MEGA TRAUMA and is keeping it all a secret). His special move "Gemtastic Bombs" has him throwing multiple bombs made of different types of gems, usually Sapphire, Ruby, and Emerald.

His Champion evolution, Galormon, gives him a huge confidence boost and some card tricks up his (metaphorical) sleeves! With the ability to spin around, creating a tornado of cards and fire with his special move "All-In-Spin" and sucking in enemies into his hat with his other special move "Hatter Hole", his performance on the battlefield makes this fancy Digimon a sight to behold!

----

The other evolutions are gonna be left a mystery for now, cuz I haven't drawn them yet, lol.

So yeah, I hope you like this new AU!! I worked my ass off to figure this stuff out, and I hope it was worth the wait!!! ^w^

#my art #APOLOGIES FOR ANY SPELLING AND GRAMMAR MISTAKES IN THIS POST #Digimon Codename: DREAMLAND #'where tf is kirby in this kirby au?' I'LL GET TO IT EVENTUALLY!! JUST SIT TIGHT!!#digimon au #digimon digital monsters #kirby au #kirby susie #kirby marx #kirby magolor #kirby super star #kirby return to dreamland deluxe #kirby planet robobot

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torra-and-the-toons · 6 months

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"C'mon, smile or I'll make ya!"

A birthday gift for my dear friend @cringetownusa!! I've never drawn Max before lol.

#my art #yax #yakko warner #max goof #warners in real life (and max)#I gave it to them on their birthday I just forgot to post it until now lol

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youarethedancingdean · 11 months

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Day 7 of @steddie-week

Prompt: Free Space

It all started February, 8th. Eddie found a card in his locker after lunch. It was plain except for a comic-style bumblebee and a speech bubble with the phrase 'Bee mine'. First he thought this was some sort of stupid prank by his band mates, Gareth would come up with something like this. But after opening it and reading what was written in it, he wasn't so sure anymore.

Eddie.

I know, it's not Valentine's Day yet, which is why I'm not asking you to be my valentine. But be sure, I will come the time.

Isn't the bee cute?

The handwriting was too neat to be any of his friends'. God, what if this was some delusional girl with a crush on the school freak, the gay school freak. He better start finding the words to let her down easy.

Two day later, Eddie found a card in his backpack. What the hell, who had put that there? This one wasn't one you could open. The front was white and said 'Save the Date' in baby pink, cursive letters.

Of course, I'm not planing our wedding. I'm not that insane. But, you do have a date on the 14th. Make sure you're free, will you?

Tacos or pizza?

Tacos all the way, but who was this? Eddie had never had a secret admirer, let alone a date. Was this really for real or just a stupid prank in the end. He found, that he was hoping this was real. Even if he'd let down a girl, at least someone had been interested in him this way for once.

The 12th came around and so did the third card. He came home from band practice to find it in the mailbox of his uncle's trailer. The envelope it was in was plain white, the only thing on it was 'Eddie.' written in the by now so familiar handwriting.

The card was hand drawn this time. It was a sleeping bat hanging from the branch of a tree and a small red chested bird on the same branch. The drawing wasn't extravagant, but still pretty damn good. The inside read a joke that only a true nerd would really get. Maybe his admirer was nerdy, too? This was getting pretty interesting.

Be the bat man to my robin ♡

On Valentine's Day Eddie expected someone or at least a card to pop up at every corner. All day, though, he didn't get anything. He didn't even know where his stupid date would be, so he needed to get something, right?

It was 6:30 pm, when he heard a knock on the trailer's door. He jumped up excitedly, only to be disappointed when he opened the door to see Steve Harrington. Don't get him wrong, he thought Steve was beautiful and– GOD– he would date the living shit out of him. But there was no way Steve 'Straight Boy' Harrington had a thing for him. Hell, they barely exchanged nice words.

"Kids aren't here. Didn't they specify where to pick them up again? I think it's Max’ this time," he mentioned instead of greeting Steve, pointing at the trailer across the street where Max and her mother lived. "Not here to pick up the kids, here to pick up you," Steve responded with a cheeky smile, which left Eddie's face with a frown of confusion.

He was handed a small bouquet of flowers, all of them unique and unusual and definitely not some cheesy ones like roses. "Who put you up to this? I need to know, man. I've been getting these cards all week and I need to tell her... well, I need to talk to her. Steve only smiled wider, pointing at the small card in the bouquet. It finally read 'Be my Valentine' and contrary to the others he'd gotten it was just a basic, red and pink Valentine's Day card you could get anywhere.

You want tacos, don't you?

- Steve

Eddie’s eyes widened as he looked back up at the man in front of him. "You're straight," was all he said, quietly and calmly. He had to prepare himself for a disappointment, this had to be a prank after all. "Thank you for the diagnosis, Dr. Munson. But, I think you're wrong there. Look, maybe I shouldn't have made it this cheesy and silly, but I that's how I am, okay. And it's better you know that before you agree to go out with me. So? Tacos?" Steve was clearly pretty insecure and nervous, but he was also dressed nicely and his hair was looking even better than usually. And he knew he would pick tacos. "You're into me? You wanna date me?" Eddie asked, still in shock from it all. Steve nodded. "Let me get my jacket, you're driving," Eddie responded instantly, earning a relieved chuckle from Steve. "And, of course, were having tacos!" he called from his bedroom over the noises of someone looking for something specific in a huge mess.

#steddieweek2023 #day seven: free space #i decided to go with whatever i want #steddie #fluff #eddie munson #steve harrington #late entry cause i was busy #my writing

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dollarstoreartsupplies · 24 days

Note

for the colour palette challenge, mayhaps ‘Fightfight with God?’ paired with Max Jägerman? I feel like it’d suit him

hide ur girls,,,, hide ur nerdy prudes,,,,,, here comes max,,, babey

~~~

this one was honestly really intimidating because I've never drawn a max before lol but I think this is actually one of my favorites of these i've done!!

(original drawing ask post)

base sketch below because cut I think it came out very fun:

#click for quality 🫡🫡#palette challenge #max jagerman #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #starkid #my art :)#hatchetfield #hatchetverse #tw dismemberment

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lovingperfectionsblog · 2 years

Text

Get Off

Pierre Gasly x Reader

Summary: A simple mishap with seating leads to some shocking confessions.

Warnings: Mentions of smut, language, mentions of a hard on, awkward moments. Pierre wanting to not be alive. If I've missed something, let me know.

Word Count: 2300

Authors note: Bless, nothing makes me happier than an awkward little Pierre. Hope you enjoy it :D Also I did not proof read, sorry :D

______________________________________________________________

“Y/n, just get in the car!” Max shouted at you as you stood staring at all the taken seats.

“And where exactly am I meant to sit Max?” you knew you were going to have to sit on one of the boys’ laps, and you were secretly hoping it was going to be Pierre, your long-standing crush. He obviously didn’t feel the same, but you couldn’t help having fallen for one of your best friends. Dumb, yes, you knew, these things never ended well, and you were already considering distancing yourself to help you get over it.

“Just sit on Pierre’s lap” Charles suggested. Both you and Pierre shot Charles a look, wide eyed and angry.

In truth, Charles had been the only one to know both of your secrets of liking the other and he was getting really tired of hearing each of you talk about the other without either of you having the guts to do anything about it. So him making the suggestion was his idea of finally pushing you both into action without physically outing you both. And if he was going to have to force this, then so be it.

“No I couldn’t-“

“She can sit on someone else’s lap”

So he definitely doesn’t feel them same then.

Shit, so I guess she definitely doesn’t feel the same.

“Could you two please stop and grow up, Y/n, he’s the closest, get in so we can go” Max was getting impatient, knowing this drive could be a little long and he wanted to get going on the hike before it got too late in the day.

You hesitantly climbed in, situating yourself on his lap. Pierre instinctively helped you on, gently holding your waist as you got comfortable.

“Sorry” you gently mumbled an apology, meaning it more in the sense that you were sorry that you were the one sitting on his lap.

“No problem” he returned in kind, definitely meaning it more in the sense that if this was the closest he got to be to you, holding you like this, he could live happily for the rest of his life if it was all he ever got.

His opinion was about to change as soon as they hit the gravel roads.

As conversation continued in the car, all of you excited for the day off to just go and hike together, Pierre sat silently, all his attention focusing on keeping his composure as he felt you bouncing on his lap.

Fuck how bad were these roads?

“Pierre” he was too lost in his thoughts to have even heard.

“PIERRE” Charles had drawn him back with a whisper shout in his ear, noticing how uncomfortable his friend looked.

“I’m going to kill you” he whispered back, not even looking at Charles, instead focusing on a spot on your back.

Fuck you smelt good.

No, no. He can’t, not now. For all intents and purposes, you were his grandmother sitting on his lap.

“What did I do?” Charles knew exactly what he did, what he didn’t realize was the extent to which he had made his friend suffer. And what he really didn’t realize was how delicate this entire situation had suddenly become.

“You know exactly what you did” Pierre spat back, a little too loudly.

You suddenly shifted to turn around, wanting to find out what Charles and Pierre were discussing, quite literally behind your back.

Pierre gripped your hips in between white knuckles, only sinking his fingers in deeper as the moment continued. You froze at his action, the rest of the car completely oblivious to the interaction between you, Pierre and Charles.

Charles watched as Pierre slowly closed his eyes, taking deep even breathes, head dipping forward. What the fuck was going on with him?

“Stop the car” Pierre demanded through nearly gritted teeth.

“Mate, we are nearly there, I’m not-“

“Stop. The. Fucking. Car.” Pierre left no room for argument. The entire car silent as Max pulled over, no one daring to ask what was wrong just yet.

Pierre finally peeled his hand away from your side and without opening his eyes pushed the car door open.

“Get off”

“Pierre”

“Get off now”

You scrambled out the car and only then did Pierre open his eyes, shooting Charles a deadly look, but not moving. Just sitting there, trying to even out his breath and making Charles wish it was the devil himself he was facing instead of his friend.

Next minute he was climbing out the car himself and moving away from you, down the road, leaving you standing outside of the car, confused and feeling a little rejected.

“Okay, what the fuck was that?” Lando piped up, watching Pierre walk away from you all, you just shrugged, just as confused.

“I knew that would be a bad idea” you began lecturing Charles, upset that he had put you in that position, feeding into your embarrassment.

“In my defence-“

“Oh my god so you did do it on purpose!” you stuck your head into the car, readying yourself for the heated argument you were about to have with Charles.

“It was about time that you did something!” Charles defended himself, still believing what he had done was the right thing.

“Okay, explain what the fuck is going on” Max demanded, twisting in his seat to stare at you both, with George and Lando encouraging the explanation.

“Y/n likes Pierre”

“Charles!”

“Oh yeah we knew” George informed you, far to casually for your liking.

“YOU KNEW?” your mind began racing, if he knew, then chances of Pierre knowing was pretty high.

“Everyone knows” Max confirmed, “it’s pretty obvious”.

“Do you think-“ you began asking, panicked. You were never going to hang out with any of them again. Was it too far for you to walk back now?

“He definitely doesn’t know” Charles sounded irritated, “man is way too oblivious, trust me”.

“Both of you are actually” Max confessed, shrugging when Charles shot him a questioning look. What did they all know that you didn’t?

“Stand up fucking straight or get in the car fully” Pierre shouted at you from a fair distance away, turning away again as the entire car turned to look him bark orders at you. Not entirely understanding why he couldn't have you bending over like that right now.

“What’s his problem with me today?” you turned to the rest of the car, trying to understand what you had done wrong to upset him so much.

“Is he talking to himself?” Lando asked, squinting, as he watched Pierre kick a stone in the road as he looked as though he was rapidly having an intense discission with himself.

“Oh no” Charles spun round to look at Max, and as if on cue all the other boys in the car burst out laughing as one.

“No, no, no, fuck” Charles was forcing his was out the car, “move, move now” he pushed past you, the howling laughter of the other boys confusing you as Charles hastily made his was over to Pierre.

-----

“I am so sorry!” Charles began as he finally got to Pierre, the latter throwing his hands up, questioning Charles on what his plan was without uttering a word.

“What did you expect to happen?” Pierre was dumbfounded at how stupid his friend had been.

“I don’t know, get either of you to admit you had feelings for each other?” Charles shrugged, fully aware that he had just confessed your secret but honestly, it was about time.

“Oh yes Charles, the best way for me to tell y/n that I like her was by her sitting on my lap and me getting a fucking hard on, every guys dream confession to the girl he loves” Pierre was livid. Could he just walk back to the hotel from here?

“Stop laughing, I swear to God,” Charles couldn’t help it, this entire situation was absurd, “Mate, I had to think of my grandmother”.

Charles was doubled over in laughter. He’d met his grandmother. Never had he felt sorrier for Pierre than now in this moment.

Pierre was crouched down, head in his hands, groaning at how badly this situation had absolutely messed up everything.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘for either of us to admit we had feelings for each other’?” Pierre looked up at Charles, praying his friend hadn’t spoken incorrectly.

“Jesus, finally, was wondering how long it was going to take you to click onto that one” Charles let out a sigh, finally feeling that he was truly free from this secret.

-----

“Okay, so I am going to need someone to tell me what is going on” you had your head popped into the car again, demanding an answer from them all now.

“Can we invoke the bro code?” Lando really didn’t want to be the one to have to explain what had just happened.

“Fuck your bro code, explain, now” you were completely unwilling to give this one up.

“He likes you and got a boner when you sat on his lap” Max was way too nonchalant for your liking when he had just shared information that had the possibility to change your life.

“Loves” George corrected him.

_____

Pierre and Charles spun their heads around to face the car as they heard a loud bang, presuming it came from you, considering you were holding your head and the accompanying “FUCK”.

“Are you okay?” Pierre shouted out to you.

“Did you get a boner from me sitting on your lap?” You shouted in return.

Silence. Enough silence that you could hear Pierre’s heart beating in his chest from being called out.

Even the other boys couldn’t believe you had just blatantly asked.

“Do you like me?” Nope, Pierre can't just derail your question with a question like that.

“Do you like me?” You mimicked his question.

“Love” George added in, leaning out the passenger window.

“I asked you first”

“And I asked you if you got a boner”

“Please don’t make me answer that”

God Charles wished he had stayed in the car.

“So, I take that as a yes” you answered for him, this really isn’t the answer you wanted to know, you really wanted to know if he liked, no loved, you, but for now, this was good enough.

“Jesus, yes y/n, I got a fucking boner from you sitting on my lap because you were like there, and it was the first time I ever got to hold you like that and it was overwhelming and fuck, and it just kinda happened” Pierre fully admitted it, he didn’t entirely mean to, but they were standing on the side of the road shouting at each other in front of their friends and this was all too much for him.

What was even worse was the fact that you hadn’t said anything.

No, Pierre took that back, what was worse was the fact that he just saw you laugh.

“Did you just laugh?”

“No!”

“You just fucking laughed!”

“It was a mistake! I’m sorry! You got a boner and its, I don’t know, funny?” another giggle slipped out immediately after that.

Every single one of the boys felt true sorrow and pity for Pierre at this exact moment, because every single one of them knew he was truly living their nightmares and they were all here to bear witness to his shame.

“I want to die” Pierre was defeated. He was never going to recover from this.

“I want to fuck you”

Charles really wished he had stayed in the car.

“Sorry, what?” There was no way you had just said that.

“I said I want to fuck you” you shrugged like you weren’t just admitting something phenomenal that was going to forever change they dynamic of your relationship, “because I like you and I kind of want you to be my boyfriend”.

“So, you do like me?” Pierre needed the clarification; he still wasn’t entirely sure he had heard you correctly.

“I mean, yeah, I just said I did, didn’t I?” you weren’t liking the fact that he hadn’t reciprocated your feelings yet and you were praying you hadn’t made a mistake.

“Yeah I like you too” he shouted back, why did it come out sounding so frustrated? He was fucking ecstatic.

“Okay, well good!” You shouted in return, neither of you moving closer to each other during the entire conversation.

“So, will you be my girlfriend?” why was he still shouting? This was nothing like how he had pictured this moment, but it seemed to be going well so might as well continue?

“Yes!” Jesus, were you guys suddenly dating? Were you going to faint? “are you going to kiss me?” why had neither of you moved yet? This was not what you had dreamed of this moment being.

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you?” Pierre was feeling far more confident for someone that was still too nervous to approach you just yet.

“You aren’t going to fuck in my car!” Max had finally popped out, suddenly very concerned at what might happen next.

With a laugh Pierre and Charles were finally making their way back to the car and the second you were close enough to him Pierre was dragging you into his arms. God he was thankful he could finally hold you like this.

“Well in you get, boyfriend” you nodded towards the car once Charles had gotten in, fully intending on climbing back onto his lap the second he was settled.

“Please, just, I just, I really don’t want to sit next to you two like this” Charles quietly admitted.

“Nickie Not it!” all the boys shouted in unison, scrambling to be the first to place their finger on their nose so they wouldn’t have to be stuck next to you lovebirds for the rest of the ride to the hike.

#pierre gasly #f1 #f1 fanfic #monaco #f1 imagine #max verstappen #charles leclerc #pierre gasly imagine #formula one imagine #pierre gasly x you #f1 x reader #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly fanfic #lando norris #formula 1 #george russell #pg10

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pedropascalsblog · 2 months

Text

My savior Raider!Joel

Warnings:Raider!Joel, Mentions of abuse and death

A/n: I can’t believe I got a request! It means so much to me, especially being a new writer! I’m sorry if this isn’t as good as you were expecting but I hope you enjoy it!

@josephquinnswhore thank you so much for the idea 🙏🏻

I never thought I would survive the outbreak of cordyceps. But here I am, 2 years later, traveling with my boyfriend, Max, through the abandoned and desolate streets. We've been surviving the best way we can, scavenging for food and shelter, constantly on the move to avoid the infected.  Max is a tough guy, or at least he tries to be. He's always been mean to me, but in this new world, his cruelty has escalated. I've lost count of how many times he's hit me and left me bruised and bleeding. But I can't leave him, he's all I have left. Or so I thought.  We stumble upon a small camp, with a few tents and a fire pit. Max immediately starts rummaging through the supplies, looking for anything of value. I try to help, but he pushes me away, telling me I'm useless. I sigh, keeping a look out by the fire, trying to keep warm.  That's when I see him. He's been watching us from the shadows, his hard and stoic expression never changing. He's a raider too, we are considered to be the most dangerous and unpredictable people who roam the streets, taking whatever they want by force.  I can't help but feel drawn to him, even though I know he's dangerous. There's something about him that intrigues me, something that makes me feel safe. I watch as he moves closer, his eyes never leaving mine. I can feel Max's anger rising, but he knows better than to mess with another raider.  “You two seem to be doing pretty well for yourselves,”The man says, his voice low and gravelly.  “We've been surviving,”I reply, trying to sound tough like Max.  The man chuckles, but there's no humor in his eyes. “Well, I'm afraid I'll have to take some of your supplies. It's nothing personal, just business.”  I watch closely as Him and Max negotiate, but I can see the tension between them. Max is trying to be tough, but he's no match for him. In the end, he takes some of our supplies and leaves, but not before giving me a lingering look.  After the other raider leaves max finishes picking the last tent, but I can't stop thinking about him, about the raider. I know he's dangerous, but I can't help but feel drawn to him. Max, on the other hand, is fuming. As we are walking down the streets he starts taking his anger out on me, hitting me harder than he ever has before. Pushing my shoulder causing me to fall and bust my knee on the road. Max walks past me shoving back down, walking ahead. I let him get a few feet ahead of me before standing up again following him like a lost, beaten, puppy home.   A few days later, we come across another camp. Max immediately starts to raid it, as I keep a look out. I could see a tall broad shadow in the distance, watching us. Could it be him? I move closer to it. Slowly making my steps as quiet as I could. I know what he wants, I could see it in his eyes that day we first came across him, and I can't deny that I want it too. As Max was busy loading up our supplies, I made eye contact with the raider and he motions for me to follow him.   We sneak away from the camp and find a secluded spot. Once he made sure no one is around he gestures me to sit. He pulls out a bandage and wraps my knee up. He is surprisingly gentle with me, and for the first time in a long time, I feel safe and cared for. “What happened?” He asked, finishing wrapping my knee and moving to my busted lip. “I tripped” I lied. “We both know that’s a lie” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “What’s your name?” I quickly asked changing the subject. “Don’t have one” he says. “We both know that’s a lie” I mimicked his words from earlier. “Joel” he says helping me up. we heard branches crunching from the way we came. Joel pulled me behind the tree, when we saw Max walking in our direction and calling out my name.  Joel lays his index finger over my lips signaling me to stay quiet, and I listen to his command. Joel slips away from the tree following max until they are out of sight. I knew deep down what was going to happen. This is the world now. I should feel scared, but I feel relieved. I'm finally free from Max's abuse.

After a few minutes Joel walks back to the tree a cut on his lip and a few gashes on his knuckles. “I-is he dead?” I asked quietly. Joel grabs the backpack off the ground. “You coming?” I nodded my head following him. 

“Thank you” I say walking a bit faster to catch up with Joel. “What?” Joel turns a little to his right. “I was just saying thank you, you really saved my ass back there.” I smiled Joel lets out a small grunt. “You’re like my savior” I joked, causing Joel’a face to scrunch up. “Far from that, you just got lucky I was here to save your ass.” Joel mumbled back. We stay silent walking back to where he’s been sheltered up.

 It’s been two weeks since Joel took me in, and for the first time since the outbreak, I feel like I have a chance at survival. He has become my protector, my savior. And even though he's a dangerous raider, I can't help but see him as my big hero. Because in this new world, sometimes it takes a hardened and stoic man to show you what love and protection really mean.

#joel miller #pedro is daddy #pedro pascal #joel miller the last of us #joel x reader #pedro x reader #hbo joel miller #joel miller loves big girls #joel tlou #raider!joel

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