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coff33andb00ks · 2 days

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Rule Breaker - Pt 2

max verstappen x single mom!reader

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warnings: cursing, reader y/nsplains, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, logan tries to flirt, y/n's bestie is a tumblr girlie at heart, kiddo steals the show Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 6833 auth.note: thank you all so much for the love for part 1!!! ily all and i'm having so much fun writing this

The paddock was relatively quiet so early in the morning. Unable to sleep, y/n had left the hotel and made her way to the track. She was taking the opportunity to explore the settings on the camera and getting her bearings since she didn't have any work duties to complete until later in the day. She had expected Kevin to want to come with her, but he'd opted to sleep in with Ellie, who would bring him to the track later. So she wandered, exchanging the occasional greeting with others. Stopping to take a photo of a bird perched on the fence in front of pit lane, she backed up, crashing into someone.

"Whoop, s'cuse me, sorry," she said, turning to apologize properly. She recognized the two men by their faces but her mind blanked on their names.

"It's alright, ma'am. Didn't mess up your shot, did we?" His American accent was a happy surprise.

"I don't think so." Smiling, y/n lowered the camera. "My fault, and I'll blame it on being new."

"Marketing?" The other man guessed.

Australian. And suddenly she remembered their names. "Social media. I'm y/n."

"So great to meet you." Logan tipped his head slightly. "Carolina?"

"God, you can take the hick outta Carolina, but you can't take the Carolina outta the hick." He grinned and she laughed. "North Carolina, yeah."

Oscar stared at Logan. "How did you guess that? She just sounds plain American?"

"No, dude, it's the lilt. It's like when George got pissed we couldn't pick up on the different English accents."

"Can he pick up on the different American south accents?" y/n asked.

Logan rolled his eyes. "He knows Brooklyn, Midwest, valley girl, and just south."

"In his defense it's hard to pick out each individual one," Oscar pointed out.

Y/n shrugged. "You've got a point. I sound different from people that grew up just an hour from me."

"Yeah! And I know mine's been butchered from so much time in Europe." Logan nodded.

"You still sound more like home than anyone else I've met."

"I was gonna say the same thing – you sound like home." He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that had her smiling in return.

"And what do I sound like?" Oscar asked with a grin.

"A magical place far, far away," y/n told him. She covertly checked the time and wondered if hospitality had finished setting up so she could get some coffee.

"Hear that? I sound like Star Wars."

"She's using southern charm on you, dude," Logan snorted.

"Well it's working, I'm charmed."

A giggle bubbled up her throat and she let it free, raising her camera and giving them a hopeful look. "Okay?"

"Hang on—" Logan fussed with his hair, and y/n laughed when Oscar reached to help him, then they both had to fuss with Oscar's hair. "Think we're presentable enough?"

She nodded, moving so the sunlight was beside them. She got several photos and thanked them. "I'll send them to y'alls social media teams?"

"You can just send it to me." Logan began patting his pockets for his phone.

"Unbelievable," Oscar muttered under his breath, and y/n barely heard it, giving Logan her number and adding him to her contacts once he'd sent her a text.

"I should get going – Sorry for bumping into you."

"Don't apologize, I'm glad you did."

As she walked away she gave her head a little shake, smiling to herself when she overheard Oscar's grumbling that Logan had flirted with fuckin' Red Bull's social media admin. Something told her to glance back and she did, amused to see Logan watching her. Don't show interest, don't show interest, don't—

He gave a little wave. And she smiled, waving back.

Fuck.

Ducking around the corner, she wandered until she found hospitality, grogginess taking over as she made her way to the back to fix herself coffee. She recognized a couple engineers and mechanics that she'd met in Milton Keyes and greeted them, settling into a corner to drink and look over the pictures she'd gotten.

She was on her second coffee, had uploaded the pictures to her laptop, and was editing the first batch for a short video when the chair across from her was pulled out, taking her shoe with it.

"Sorry," Max said when she yelped, chuckling as he bent to pick up her shoe. "Didn't know you were attached."

"Bad habit I'm afraid." Taking the shoe, she shifted to put it back on. "Picked it up when I was pregnant now I do it without thinking."

"For the swelling?" he asked, sitting down and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah." After tying the shoelace she shifted, tucking one foot beneath her. "Good morning, by the way."

"Morning. Already working?"

"I'm gonna do a short photo tour of the track. I got some nice shots."

"You walked the track?"

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so… It's beautiful first thing in the morning."

Max nodded, picking up his coffee again. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

"Max, you should know that hotel beds suck. Especially with a three year old sleeping sideways and a snoring friend in the other bed. Is this where you tell me you slept great?"

"Haha, no. My sleep was shit but it wasn't because of the bed. I didn't get enough." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I was up late sim racing."

"Okay, explain sim racing to me," she requested, slipping one earbud in so she could check that the music she'd selected went well with the photos. Tweaking it as he began to talk, she realized she was barely paying attention to her work, exporting and posting the video to all the platforms then closing her laptop to focus on him. He talked with his hands. It was something she'd picked up on already, that if he was focused on the topic he used his hands. Maxplaining the fans called it. Finishing her coffee, she listened intently, propping her chin on one hand.

He smiled, almost shyly, as he finished. "It's something I truly enjoy. I'm not very sociable. I like going out once in a while, but I prefer to stay in, yeah? And I can spend hours in the sim without thinking twice."

"I spent the last few days watching a lot of interviews. Not just of you and Checo, but everyone on the grid," y/n said softly. "Leclerc talks about piano and his family, Norris talks about gaming and DJing, and Hamilton has his six hundred side projects."

"Yes?" He didn't look or sound impatient for her to get to the point, and she appreciated that.

"The thing is, they all have passions outside of racing. This – formula one, fastest cars, all that – is a goal, a dream, but they all have something else they love, that they can pursue now." She paused, meeting his eyes. "The only thing I've seen you passionate about is racing."

He blinked once, nodding his head. "Because it is my passion."

Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment. "You're very lucky, Max."

That must have surprised him, because his brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"Not everyone is able to be successful following their passion. Being able to do what you love for both a job and hobbies is almost unheard of, yet you're doing it. You break records and win races and yeah you've had a few setbacks but you're still in love with this. And on your off time you're training to be better and studying tracks and you go home and race on your computer." She shook her head in amazement. "You're incredibly lucky, that your passion is not only something you're good at but something you can be immersed in nonstop, and that you haven't lost your love for it."

"I guess I am lucky," he said carefully. "But luck had nothing to do with me getting into formula one."

"I know." She held up her hands, not wanting him to think she thought he was in the position he was purely by chance. "I can't imagine how much work you've done over the years, or how many sacrifices you've had to make. It's just… In my experience, passion doesn't always equal financial stability is what I'm trying to say."

"What's that saying? Do something you love and you never work a day in your life?"

Y/n snorted. "That's bullshit. I love sleeping and yet I still have to work."

That made him laugh and she rolled her eyes, even though she enjoyed the sound. "Surely you love more than sleep."

"I love a lot of things. Maybe that's been my problem all my life. I find things and fall in love with them and when I think hey this might be it something new and shiny comes along and I fall in love with that."

"There's nothing wrong with being passionate about many things," Max said gently.

"That's what I keep telling myself. And yet—"

"Are you saying you don't love your job?"

She froze, a wave of panic rippling through her. "Uhmm… Since it's technically my first day I can't answer that."

"Okay. Do you love your social media?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.

The table which was, suddenly, smaller than she remembered.

"I like engaging others. I like creating conversations and seeing my work appreciated," she finally said.

"You sound like a PR person. Do you love it?" He enunciated each word slowly.

She couldn't say yes. The answer wasn't no, either, because she didn't hate it. "I personally hate it. But you've learned how to make it work for you, yeah? How to word things to spark a conversation among followers? What type of content people appreciate?"

"I like to think so."

"Stop being so unsure of yourself. You study it, right? At your last job when you posted a video and no one liked it what did you do? "

She exhaled harshly. "I compare it to ones that did well and pick it apart to see why it didn't work."

"Why?"

"Why?" she echoed.

"Why did you pick it apart?"

"Because I wanted it to do well," she said slowly.

"And these conversations you want to create, do you join in or sit and watch them happen behind the safety of your screen?" He reached over, gently turning her laptop so he could see the screen.

"I engage. I reply and ask questions to make the viewers want to keep the conversation going."

"Why?"

"Because—" She clicked the mouse, bringing up the comments below the video she'd posted to Instagram. "These comments? Come from people that love this brand – or sport. Some of them are trolls who just want to start up an argument to make their boring lives more interesting for a few minutes, but for the most part it's people who care. People who want to see this team do well. People who had the dream of doing it themselves but life got in the way. People who watched it with their parents and still watch to stay connected to someone they love. It's little kids who want to be like you. It's people who spend their hard earned money on a t-shirt or a hat or a ticket to see someone they admire live out their dream." She took a quick breath, scrolling through the comments. "If I don't like or respond to them, they feel like their opinions don't matter. And maybe they don't in the grand scheme of formula one. But they want to be seen and heard. When I click and they see that Red Bull Racing liked their comment or replied with an emoji or whatever, they have a few seconds of elation, and their support of this team is cemented just a bit more."

Max blinked at her, and she continued even though she heard him draw a breath to speak.

"I know very well how horrible social media can be. However, I've seen how it fosters growth for a company. You're not stupid, I'm sure you've seen how TikTok challenges or Instagram livestreams have brought in more support. Not to mention money. If a post of you wearing your Red Bull shirt gets a million likes, I can probably pull the data and show you that a hundred thousand people went to view the shirt on the official shop and probably twenty-five thousand ordered one. A silly picture of you arriving for race day or a new helmet design pulls people in and gets them excited. And, yes, it makes money. Which in turn pays the salaries of everyone on the team."

"Y/n."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm—"

"Passionate," he whispered before she could say sorry.

"I know what it's like to enjoy something and never feel included," she murmured. "So, yeah… I guess I love what I do, because I like that I can include people in something they love."

His hand covered hers briefly. "For a moment there, I even loved social media."

She watched his fingers squeeze hers before they slid away, wondering why his touch lingered. "Yeah?"

"It's easy to forget that there are real people saying nice things. Sometimes all you can see is the negativity."

"Negativity only breeds more negativity—"

"And when you look at it, it's all you'll see," he murmured.

"Well… So far everything I've posted today has been met with positivity."

"That's good."

"Okay, a few comments about wanting to see Lando on the podium. Thank you for letting me rant about why I do what I do," she said, glancing at his hand without meaning to.

"You let me do the same," he reminded her. Lifting his chin, he waited until she looked at him again. "Are you too busy to see what I was talking about?"

"I don't have anything scheduled until after lunch."

"Perfect." He lightly drummed on the table and stood. "Do you want to see my rig?"

"You do know I won't have a clue what anything but the computer and monitor are, right?" Smiling, she stood and began packing away her stuff.

Closing her laptop, he handed it over, catching her earbud when it fell off the edge of the table. "Maybe you'll like it so much you'll want one of your own."

*-*

He was rambling, he knew he was, telling her about the setup and his plan for the 24 hour race over the weekend and how he had everything scheduled so he could do two of the things he loved most. But he could tell she was paying attention, actually listening, as if she really cared. Rubbing his palms against his thighs, he finished and looked up at her.

"So this is your actual job and the f1 thing is just a hobby?" she teased.

Laughing, he got to his feet and got himself a can of Red Bull. "It's just racing, y/n."

"And racing is life."

"Absolutely." He watched her muffle a yawn behind her hand.

"Am I allowed to mention it in my posts? Because it sounds so badass. Sim race stint then qualifying, chug a Red Bull, sim race stint then race."

"You can mention it, not like it's a secret." He watched her hide another yawn and cleared his throat. "Looks like you need a Red Bull."

She shook her head. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Nodding, he checked the time. Just over an hour before he had to meet with his trainer. "Of course."

"I hate Red Bull," she whispered.

He choked on a laugh. "You what?"

"I've tried so many times! I can just about stomach one of the flavored editions, but the original? Tastes like battery acid to me." She looked embarrassed and covered her face with her hands. "Please don't tell anyone."

"You hate the drink. So you accepted a job with a team owned by the drink company." He wanted to laugh. It was so absurd to him.

"Yes," she groaned.

"That would be like me taking a job at Instagram."

"I know it's so bad. What makes it worse is I love Monster—"

"Of course you do," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Please say you won't tell anyone. If corporate hears, I'll probably get fired. It's in my contract that I can only drink that while in pubic during race weekends which means I've got to either stick to water or learn to fake it."

"Your secret's safe with me," Max promised, breathing in the aroma of her perfume as she moved past him to get her bag.

"Thank you. I think Ellie would kill me if I told her I have to find a new job."

He didn't want her to go so soon. Ridiculous because he knew he'd see her in just a few hours. By the end of the weekend he'd be sick of seeing her. Sipping his drink, he finally sighed and cleared his throat. "You can take a power nap."

She whipped her head around, sending a wave of her perfume his way. "What?"

"A power nap." Before he could stop himself he was setting down his drink and taking her bag off her shoulder. "Thirty minutes, and you'll feel great."

"Max—"

"You need to be alert and focused, and I don't have a Monster for you to drink. Please, I insist." He motioned to his bed in the far corner, gently nudging her shoulder when she hesitated.

"You're sure?" she asked softly, and when he assured her he was she bent to take off her shoes, looking almost elated as she walked over to the bed. "Wait, I need to set an alarm."

"I'll wake you."

She lifted an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone to set a thirty minute timer. Satisfied, she sat on the edge of the bed, thanking him several times as she laid down and curled up on her side. "Thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes," he murmured, sitting on the couch to answer emails. It was fifteen minutes before she stopped shifting and kicking, and when he heard her breathing even out he knew she was asleep. Resetting the timer, he stood and carefully pulled the blanket over her, then returned to the couch and tried his best to ignore that she was sleeping in his room.

Her phone started buzzing on the table. She didn't stir so he ignored it, focusing on his email. That was impossible though so he cleared out his unread texts, one foot bouncing each time he heard her breathe. A mistake. It had been a mistake. He jumped up when her phone began to buzz again and, glancing from it to her, he realized she would undoubtedly sleep through it. He picked it up and was about to silence it when he saw the name on the screen. Ellie. That was her friend that was helping with Kevin… Something could be wrong, so he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, we just— Who's this?"

"Max. This is Ellie?"

"…Yes…" The woman sounded wary. "Why are you – Oh! Max! Right of course. Um, is y/n okay?"

Max looked over at her, smiling faintly when she shifted. "She's fine. Taking a nap, actually."

Ellie snorted. "Of course she is."

"Is everything okay with Kevin?"

As though aware of the question, Kevin began chattering in the background. "Yeah, he's perfect. I was calling to let her know we just got here but I ain't got a clue where to go."

"Are you at the main entrance?" he asked, slipping out of the room so he wouldn't wake y/n. Ellie told him where they were and he nodded as he pulled out his own phone to text one of the team assistants. "You're going to walk down to the turnstiles, scan your passes and come through. Someone will be there to meet you and bring you to the motorhome."

"Ok perfect. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. We'll be downstairs to meet you." Ending the call, he checked that the assistant was going to meet them then reentered his room. He closed the door and silenced his timer. "Y/n?"

She hummed in her sleep, and he smiled while he crossed over to the bed.

"Y/n," he called gently. She groaned, shifting to face away from him and it suddenly occurred to him that when he went to bed that night he would smell her on the pillow and the sheets. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea, but it was too late now.

Would he be an asshole if he had his sheets changed before the end of the day?

Leaning down, he gently touched her shoulder. She inhaled sharply and he saw her eyes snap open. "You have company on its way," he said softly, tugging the covers back in case she tried to get comfortable again. His eyes swept down, locking on the skin bared by her shirt, which had ridden up in her sleep. "Come on, you had a nice nap, time to wake up."

"This bed is so much more comfortable than the one at the hotel," she mumbled, slowly sitting up and turning to face him. Smoothing down her shirt, she stretched and sighed, blinking as she focused on him. "Oh! Ellie and Kevin!"

He laughed as she leapt to her feet, his hands immediately moving to steady her. "It's fine, they haven't even made it to the paddock yet. I've sent someone to meet them."

"Oh," she murmured. "Thank you."

His hands were on her hips, and he forced his breathing to remain calm as she rested her hands on his forearms. The space, which had felt roomy and open, now felt tiny with how close she was to him. He was painfully aware of the scant space between them and each place their bodies touched, but more so of her. That heady floral scent of her perfume and the softness of her palms against his skin. The gentle lushness of her hips. He could hear every breath as his gaze traveled up from her hands to her face, lingering on her slightly parted lips before settling on her eyes. "You good?"

"Yep."

"Right. Sorry," he mumbled, releasing her hips and taking a step back. "I'll get your shoes."

What was wrong with him? It hadn't been so long that he got turned on like a teenager just from touching a woman… As he bent to retrieve her shoes he counted back, dragging a hand over his face in humiliation. What must she think of him? He'd brought her to his room, showed off his fancy toys, then let her sleep in his bed. She probably thought he wanted to fuck her—

You do.

—which couldn't be further from the truth. He was just being nice. Because she was nice. That was all.

Wasn't it?

And why, he wondered as he handed her shoes to her and told her about answering Ellie's call, did he care what she thought? Not caring was his specialty.

"How do you feel?" he asked, finishing his drink in one gulp.

"Refreshed. Thank you so much, Max." She tied her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair. Her lips moved but he didn't hear a word she said, watching her gather her hair and twist and twirl it, securing it with a band from her wrist.

Witchcraft.

"That okay with you?" she asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.

"Of course," he answered automatically.

She clapped her hands together. "Great! I'll put up a post asking for fan questions."

Max blinked, pinching his brows together. "Fan questions."

"Well we can't do an impromptu Q and A without questions." She had her other phone out now, fingers flying across the screen. "We'll do it this afternoon? Just let me know the best time."

Fuck's sake. What had he agreed to? More importantly, how had she gotten him to say yes? Everyone knew he had a low tolerance for marketing. He could take it back and say no, he couldn't do it today. He could tell her to get Checo to do it, that he would do it another time. He'd gotten out of marketing and social media stupidity without a problem plenty of times before. But he was already opening his calendar, going over his schedule, already telling her the open slot he had at 5, and was already putting Q and A with Y/n in that space.

"Perfect," she enthused, shouldering her bag and heading for the door, her fingers still tapping swiftly on the screen. "They should be here about now, right?"

Nodding, he followed her out the room and down, smiling when Kevin came through the front door with a woman he assumed was Ellie. The boy dropped her hand and sprinted over to y/n, who dropped down to hug him tightly. Max looked on, chest squeezing, searching for something that had been lacking, as mother and son talked and hugged, their words overlapping. They both understood each other perfectly, though, and he smiled at Kevin's excited retelling of what he'd had for breakfast. Introducing himself to Ellie, he reached to shake her hand.

"Mister Max!" The boy squealed.

"Kevin!" He was down in a split second, Ellie forgotten and chest constricting tighter as Kevin hugged him like a long lost friend.

"I saw two cats and a horse!" Kevin tugged at his shirt, grinning as he showed off his Red Bull merch.

"You did? What kind of cats?" he asked, taking the boy's cap and beginning to roll the brim for him while the boy described the cats and then the horse. Returning the cap, he enthused over animals, telling him about his own two cats and pulling out his phone to show him a few pictures.

"I miss Cotton," Kevin said with a small pout.

"Is that your cat?" Max saw his trainer approaching and gave him a quick nod.

"Yeah. We can't bring him to Eng-a-lund so Aunt Ellie's sister has him." Kevin's pout melted into a faint smile. "But she sends lots of pictures!"

"That's good. And maybe you'll be able to get him soon."

"Mama says it's s'pensive." The boy sighed as though he had to earn the money to bring his beloved cat to England.

"I know," Max sympathized. "Go with your mum, yeah? I've got to go train."

Kevin's face puckered in confusion. "Train? Like Shang?"

Y/n cleared her throat. "We watched Mulan on the flight last night."

"What did Shang do?" Max vaguely remembered the movie, but it had been years since he'd seen it.

"He made a man out of 'em."

"Okay, doodle bug, we have to let Max get his workout in," y/n said, flashing Max a smile. "If you ask another question he'll start singing the song."

Max stared at her then turned his attention back to Kevin. "What song?"

Because he had to. Because hearing her groan as her son began singing a song about being a man was priceless. And the dramatic way she hung her head when Ellie joined in made him laugh. Kevin giggled, cutting off his singing and looking at Max hopefully. "Will you watch it with me?"

"I—"

"Mister Max is too busy to watch a movie," y/n cut in.

"We'll watch it this weekend," Max promised, hating the sadness in the boy's eyes. Relieved when it disappeared in a flash, he gave him a high five and stood.

"Yay!"

He exchanged a look with y/n, who sighed and nodded, reaching for Kevin's hand. "I'll see you later," he said.

"5 o'clock," she reminded him as he headed out.

*-*

"So…"

Y/n groaned at Ellie's knowing tone. Watching as Kevin was snatched up by Lando so he wasn't crashed into by Charles in the impromptu game of football, she folded her arms over her chest. "So?"

"He had coffee with you."

God, here we go.

"Showed you his private room and his expensive computer setup… Let you take a nap in his bed—"

"He's just being nice," y/n insisted.

"And he's gonna take time out of his ridiculously busy weekend to watch a movie with Kevin." Ellie hummed, taking a sip of her tea.

Ignoring her, y/n looked on as Lando, Oscar, and Logan pretended to fight back the others while Kevin kicked the ball towards the goal. They were all shouting, dramatic and over the top, and above it all she heard the sweetest sound of her son's laughter. When the ball rolled into the net there was a roar that rivaled a championship game, and she joined in the cheering and applauding.

"You could do worse," Ellie murmured.

"Would you stop?" Y/n rolled her eyes, giving Logan a thumbs up when he gestured to the football and Kevin, understanding they wanted to have another quick game.

"He's cute."

"They all are," y/n muttered without thinking, lifting her camera for a few photos for her personal collection. Recognizing Checo when he suddenly appeared in the viewfinder, she snapped more photos, lowering the camera to watch.

"You know—"

"I can't wait for you to start your job so I can come and try to partner you up with a coworker," she huffed, snorting when Ellie gasped.

"You wouldn't."

"In a heartbeat."

"Besides, there's only one person in that group that's technically your coworker," Ellie said.

"I'm not here for that."

"I know." Ellie leaned against her briefly. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't encourage a delusion, though."

"Yeah…" Y/n laughed softly. "It's my first day, of course everyone's already in love with me."

"Exactly."

It was what she loved about Ellie. No matter what, she could make her laugh. Grinning, she watched Kevin bump into Oscar, who immediately collapsed with an exaggerated howl of pain, holding the leg that Kevin hadn't touched. "And they're all so good with kids."

"Total dad material, every one of them," Ellie agreed. "Not a stepdad, a dad who stepped up."

She choked on a laugh, playfully swatting her friend's arm. Because she knew Logan had overheard them. "Stop—"

"And probably more than willing to crack your back—"

"Oh my god." Clapping a hand over her face, she sensed someone approaching. "I have to work with these people."

"Only until they fuck a baby into you."

"Hey, y/n, your kid's so cool," Logan said.

Her face burned but she slowly pulled her hand away, giving him a weak smile. "Thanks."

He propped his hands on his waist, breathing heavy as he watched Kevin dart between Lando, Oscar, Checo, and Alex. "He always this energetic?"

"Fify-fifty. He's either like this or so quiet I worry he's up to something."

Logan chuckled. "Is he a troublemaker?"

"Nah, if he's quiet it's because he's focused on his cars or studying a bug."

"Christ! Get it away from me!"

Y/n's heart lurched at the sudden shriek from Lando, and she barely saw him sprinting away from her son, who was holding something in his hands.

"It's a frog, mate!" Oscar shouted behind him.

"Don't care!"

Kevin slowly walked over to y/n. "Mama, look!" he said, eyes shining with excitement. His cheeks were a little flushed from the hard play and he was giggling. "Mister Lando scared of a l'il frog."

"He's just not a country boy like you, honey," she soothed. "But maybe we should put the frog somewhere he'll be safe?"

"C'mon, Kev, I'll help you," Logan offered.

"Hmm," Ellie hummed once Logan had scooped Kevin up, cupping one hand over the boy's to keep the frog from jumping away.

"Shut it."

"I didn't say a word."

"Please, that hmm contained at least two paragraphs, ten innuendoes, and a pointed reference," y/n said, trailing behind Logan. Looking on as he set Kevin down near the tree line, she got a few pictures of them releasing the frog. She cringed when her son wiped his dirty hands on his shorts but Logan didn't seem to mind, lifting him up and carrying him back to her.

"He's free!" Kevin squealed. "Thanks, Mister Logan."

"Anytime, Kev." He tousled his curly hair after setting him down, flashing a shy smile at y/n.

She returned the smile, eyes following Kevin as he ran back to the game. "He's gonna pass out as soon as we get back to the hotel."

"He could probably run circles around all of us all night," Logan chuckled.

"True…"

"So like…" He cleared his throat. "Are you married?"

God, she loved Floridians. "No," she answered, turning to look at him. "Are you?"

"God no." He made a face at the thought. "So you're single?"

She nodded, already formulating how she would turn him down if he asked her out. She was too busy. Not interested in anything romantic at the moment. It never hurt to be honest, right? She couldn't lie and say she just had a messy breakup or—

"Would you be interested in – I'm not trying to hook up or anything," he said quickly when she opened her mouth. "Just, like, as a friend? I know how it is to feel like a fish out of water here. I'm kind of used to it but I can remember feeling like I was alone and surrounded by people who didn't understand my Americanisms."

"Oh." Aw. Damn it, she couldn't say no to that. "I… Yeah, sure, I'd like that."

He smiled. "Awesome. Maybe we can do something tomorrow after practice?" he suggested.

"Sure, sounds great. Text me?" she requested. Her phone alarm started going off and she pulled it out to silence it. "I gotta go. I'll see you later."

She waved to Ellie and mimed that she had to get some work done, waiting for her friend to wave back before making her way to the garage. While walking she got a message from one of the mechanics that the cars were photo ready and quickened her pace, envisioning the photos she would get of the mechanics and engineers. As she worked she asked questions, truly interested in what everyone did, a small idea forming that she'd run by Mr. Horner later. She knew that she would enjoy mini profiles on the team, with just the most basic of information like their names and where they were from. Maybe how long they'd been on the team, what had brought them to formula one…

"Thanks so much guys," she said as she finished up, declining the offer of a cold Red Bull. Her alarm went off again – twenty minutes to get ready to meet Max in the lounge back at the motorhome – and she switched off the camera, waving bye and turning to leave the garage.

She slammed into a human wall, grunting in surprise as she stumbled back. Twice in one day, really? The bump had caused the camera to slam against her ribs and she rubbed the spot gently. "I'm sorry! Wasn't looking where I was going."

She expected a chuckle, a reassurance that it was a hazard of the job. Maybe even an apology in return. Instead, the older man sneered at her, looking her up and down in such a way she felt like a child caught misbehaving. "You need to learn your place."

She gulped, fear prickling through her embarrassment. And even though she knew she hadn't done anything wrong, she found her mouth opening to apologize. "S-sorry."

"Horner know better than to hire amateurs," he muttered, scoffing. "He obviously didn't hire you for your looks."

She bristled at that. "I beg your pardon?"

"As you should." He brushed past her.

She felt weak. Clammy and cold. Shuddering slightly, she swallowed hard and left the garage, heading straight for the motorhome, where she was able to catch her breath. Who the hell had that been? He'd been wearing a Red Bull pass, so he had to be on the team. He was obviously important. She couldn't imagine him being considered her boss, not when everyone else had been so nice and—

"Ah, y/n, are you ready to do the Q and A?" Max asked.

Y/n felt her lungs burn and sucked in a breath, staring at the cup of coffee she'd made herself. "Y-yeah, I'll meet you up on the deck?"

Please go up, please go up, please go—

"What's wrong?"

Goddammit.

"Y/n?" He looked and sounded concerned, and she ducked her head as he walked over. "Hey…"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"You're a terrible liar," he said, leaning against the counter. "What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm just overreacting." Rubbing her hand over her face, she shook her head and reached for the coffee. "Just a run-in with an asshole."

"But I haven't seen you in three hours." Max's lips barely twitched at the corner.

"Not you, a different asshole." She felt her cheeks burn and groaned. "I'm not saying you're an asshole!"

"You don't have to, I already know I can be an asshole at times." Folding his arms over his chest, he met her eyes. "Who was it?"

"That's the thing, I don't even know. I was coming out of the garage – You know, I went down to get pics of the mechanics? Anyway, I was about to text you about the Q and A and wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into him."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Older, kinda tall? Sour faced." She raised a hand to the man's approximate height. "I apologized and he told me I need to learn my place, then said I was an amateur and Horner obviously didn't hire me for my looks – I didn't ask his name because I was in shock. All I know is he had a Red Bull pass."

Max's brow furrowed, and she felt him tense. Then, to her surprise, he described the man perfectly.

"Yeah, that's him." She bit her lip. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered. "It's my dad."

"Oh." Y/n looked down at her coffee. "Sorry."

"Me too." He sighed, pushing away from the counter. "Don't listen to him, yeah? You have more right to be here than he does, and you're not an amateur. As much as I hate social media, even I can tell that you're excellent at your job."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I just… I've spent my entire adult life working to improve myself and discover my own worth as a human being, and I can give other women empowering pep talks, but I still freeze when a man that thinks he's better than me talks down to me."

"Fuck him," Max said simply. "He's not your boss, he can't control anything you do in your life."

"Either you're really trying to make me feel better or you really don't like your dad," she murmured. When he didn't reply, she slowly lifted her gaze. Seeing the muscle in his jaw twitch, she felt a pang of sympathy. If the man had been that rude to her, a stranger, she couldn't begin to imagine what he'd been like to his own son.

"If he speaks to you like that again, you let me know."

"I don't want to cause a fuss—"

"Not wanting to cause a fuss is why he thinks he can get away with it," Max pointed out. "I'll speak to Christian—"

"Max, no, it's literally my first week!"

"Which is why you have to set boundaries now. He'll either treat you with the respect you deserve or he'll be banned from the paddock."

Y/n blinked in shock. "You'd have him banned?"

"In a heartbeat." The look on his face told her he was serious, from the determined set of his jaw to the way he kept his eyes level with hers. "So either you mention it to Christian in the team meeting or I will."

"God," she groaned, knowing that this had to be just one tiny item among a long list of infractions for Max to want him banned. "Okay. I'll tell him before the team meeting tomorrow."

"Good. Come, let's do the Q and A. You ready?" he asked, taking her empty cup and throwing it away.

"Yeah." Grateful for the distraction, she walked to the stairs with him. "I did a clip of you looking confused and posted it on TikTok and Instagram that went viral because I captioned it When You Ask Max Verstappen About Anything But Racing. Oh and I found out Tumblr fans love making gifs of you laughing. Twitter likes making memes out of your face. Whereas Facebook is mostly a bunch of boomers commenting about how I'm ruining the integrity of the sport."

"I really do hate social media," he snorted.

"And that is why I'm doing social media," she teased. Halfway up the stairs, she slowed, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Max."

"For hating social media? You're welcome."

taglist

@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #my writings > mv > rulebreaker

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days

Text

Practice

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You need to practice

On the weekend, when you don't have games and you've finished all your homework, you have a kick about in the garden.

Or, rather, Momma and Morsa had a kick around and you save their shots.

Momma's better at shooting than Morsa but Morsa does better headers so it all evens out you suppose.

Either way, you get practice and they get exercise.

It's a win-win.

You're doing well with your academy training but not well enough. Since the time you rejected Germany's offer to have you play for their youth teams, no one else had called you up.

Not Denmark.

Not Sweden.

Some of your peers at Academy training had wormed their ways onto the youth teams, even for just one call up.

But you hadn't.

You don't know what you're doing wrong. You don't know why you're not good enough.

What you do know is that you want to be on those teams. Those teams are stepping stones to get to the senior team and the senior team is the road to joining the big clubs.

The European giants that you so desperately want to play for.

Wolfsburg is your destination, in big blinding lights in your head.

You want to play for Wolfsburg. You want to dominate the German League with them and, hopefully, the Champion's League as well.

But Wolfsburg won't look twice at you if you aren't on Sweden or Denmark's senior team.

Hence why you're practicing now, saving shot after shot after shot in your fancy new gloves, standing in the new goal set up in your garden after a drunk Morsa stumbled into your old one and broke it.

Another shot streaks past your outstretched hands and you kick your goalpost angrily, rolling the ball from out of your net and back to Momma.

"You're not defending properly!" You tell Morsa, arms crossed over your chest," You keep letting her win!"

Morsa laughs, like she can't see how important this is to you. "We're just playing around, princesse."

"We're not! I'm practicing!"

"Take it easy. It's not the be all end all."

"It is!"

You stamp your foot and Morsa laughs again, fondly ruffling your hair and you want to scream.

"You're not at training, princesse. It isn't that serious."

"It is!"

"It isn't."

"Magda," Momma says warningly," Leave her alone."

"Pernille!"

Momma grabs the ball and starts dribbling.

Morsa still isn't taking it that seriously, making a few attempts at getting the ball again but ultimately leaving Momma enough room to take another shot.

You catch it this time, falling to the ground to hold it against your body like Zećira has always taught you.

You stay on the ground for a while, drawing big deep breaths into your lungs.

Pernille sits in front of you, nudging you gently with her foot. "What's going on, huh? What's got you all high strung?"

You huff and mumble," I don't want to talk about it."

"You're not usually this short with us," Pernille says," Talk to me. What's going on?"

"It's stupid."

"If it's upsetting you then I don't think it is."

"Everyone else has been called up for the youth teams," You let the rest of your words go unspoken.

"You'll get there," Magda says, still standing nearby," It'll happen eventually."

"I don't want it eventually! I want it now! Everyone else has been called up! Everyone else is getting game time with the youth teams!"

"People develop at different times," Pernille's trying to soothe you, to talk you off the ledge," It's perfectly okay to not be going to camps the same time as everyone else."

"I should have accepted Germany's offer when I had the chance!" You say and that's when Magda and Pernille know you're being serious about this.

"Just because everyone else is going doesn't mean that you're a worse player," Pernille says to you," You shouldn't measure yourself against them."

You sit up. "Whatever." You grab the ball, angrily booting it all the way to the other end of the garden. "I told you it was stupid."

"Princesse-"

You move to go back inside.

"Come here," Magda says.

You ignore her.

"Don't ignore me! Come here!"

She's using her captain voice, the one she used to use when she played for Sweden. You know better than to ignore her now.

You stand in front of her, looking up.

"You worth is not reliant on whether or not you get into the youth teams."

You scoff. "Maybe not to you."

"Princesse-"

"But don't lie and say big clubs don't start picking out future players from the moment they lay eyes on them. No one watches random youth team matches at club level, not really. But they do watch it at international level. I know that. You know that."

"I know that," Magda echoes," But you have all the time in the world."

"Do I?" You say," Do I really?"

"You're fourteen. You have so much time."

You look away. "No, I don't."

You're growing up now, shooting up like a weed but Pernille's still taller than you, still tall enough to rest her chin on the top of your head and hug you from behind.

"Tell me what you need, princesse. What do you want out of this?"

"I want to be the best. I want you to help me be the best."

"Okay," Pernille says," We'll help you be the best."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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justlemmeadoreyou · 19 hours

Text

the date (part 2 to meet-cute)

read meet-cute here

Summary: after the smooth exchange of numbers with harry, he offers to take you on a date.

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: flirting, teasing, kissing, fluff

"I still can't believe you left your number for me," Harry chuckled into the phone, grinning uncontrollably. "That was smooth as silk, darling."

You giggled bashfully on the other end of the line. "Well, I had to take my chance when I saw it! Couldn't very well let you slip through my fingers now, could I Mr. Styles?"

"Just Harry, please love. And I'm certainly glad you didn't - I've been kicking myself for not asking properly."

"Mmm, well luckily for you I'm a modern woman who knows how to shoot her shot."

Harry threw back his head with a deep, rumbling laugh that had butterflies erupting in your stomach despite the phone between you.

"That's my girl! Speaking of shots though...how would you feel about letting me take you out to dinner this weekend? Make it an official date and all?"

You beamed so hard that your cheeks started to ache. "Harry Styles asking me on a date? However will I contain my excitement?"

"Is that a yes then?" You could practically hear the smirk in his raspy tone.

"Yes, oh impatient one! It's a definite yes. I'd love to go out with you."

"Brilliant! Say, Friday around 7? I'll make us a reservation somewhere nice but lowkey so we can just... talk and get to know each other better." His voice dropped an octave on those last few words, the graveled timbre making you shiver.

"Sounds perfect," you murmured, fiddling with the ends of your hair. "I'll be counting down the minutes!"

"Me too, love. Me too."

When Friday night finally rolled around, you were a desperate tangle of nerves and excitement. You'd spent far too long fretting over what to wear, determined to look your best for Harry but not like you were trying too hard. Eventually you settled on a flowy printed sundress with strappy sandals and loose curls framing your face.

"You've got this, Y/N!" you pep talked your reflexion in the mirror, smoothing down non-existent wrinkles in the soft fabric. "It's just Harry. The super famous, ridiculously talented, impossibly gorgeous Harry Styles who you've had a crush on for years and years and - oh god, what was I thinking?!"

You were seconds away from ripping the dress back off when a car honk sounded from outside. Stomach swooping with panic and anticipation, you did one last makeup check before slinging your purse over your shoulder and hurrying out.

The sleek black Mercedes idling at the curb made your heart kick into high gear. When the driver's side door popped open and Harry unfolded himself out, your mouth very nearly fell open.

Dressed in a slightly rumpled blue button-down and charcoal slacks, the man looked like he'd stepped straight out of a magazine spread. As his shoulder duster jacket fell open, you caught the peek of Gucci loafer adorning each foot. His hair looked artfully mussed with just a touch of his natural curl visible. It took everything in you not to openly gape like an idiot.

"Hi there!" Harry greeted you cheerfully as you approached, those sinful dimples peeking out on either side of his radiant smile. "You look absolutely gorgeous - take my breath away a bit there!"

Your cheeks instantly flushed to match the rosy print of your dress. "Thank you, you don't look half bad yourself," you managed to reply, willing your knees not to dissolve beneath you.

"Ahh, just 'not half bad', is it? Well I'll have to try harder than that to impress you, won't I darling?" he teased, voice dropping to that low register that never failed to make your toes curl.

With a wink, Harry opened the passenger door for you in a gentlemanly flourish. You couldn't resist shooting back a playful, "I guess you will at that, popstar."

You were rewarded with another one of his deep, husky laughs that vibrated straight through you in the most delicious way. Harry just shook his head in amusement as you settled into the plush leather interior.

"You're trouble already, sweetheart. I dunno if I'm prepared for this..."

When Harry slid in beside you with those mile-long legs you suddenly found it very hard to breathe. There was just something inescapably sexy about seeing a man like him in such a confined space. Like his raw masculine presence took up every available inch of oxygen.

"H-Hopefully not too much trouble," you quipped lightly, trying to recover some of your banter despite your wildly hammering pulse. "I do know how to behave and use my indoor voice."

Harry fixed you with a heart-stutteringly heated look through those unfairly lush lashes of his. "Oh, I certainly hope not, pretty girl."

The two of you held one another's gazes for a beat too long, the air sparking and thickening around you. Until finally Harry cleared his throat and faced forward, fingers visibly flexing on the steering wheel.

"So! Dinner at Luigi's sound alright?"

Mutely nodding, you tried to concentrate on taking some calming breaths as Harry guided the vehicle into traffic. You hoped he couldn't sense the myriad of butterflies currently swarming frantically in your belly. Already your highly anticipated date was shaping up to be just as dizzying and delicious as you'd always dreamed.

By the time Harry pulled up to valet, you'd managed to regain at least some of your composure. Not enough to avoid staring a bit too intensely when he rounded the car and gallantly offered you his arm to escort you inside. But honestly, you were beginning to question how anyone kept their chill around Harry Styles in person.

The interior of the restaurant was dimly lit with an intimate, cozy ambiance. Soft Italian music played from hidden speakers and the scents of garlic, wine and baking bread hung thick in the air.

As the maître d' guided you towards your private table in the back corner, Harry's hand rested securely at the small of your back. You fought not to shiver at the barely-there brush of his fingertips against your bare skin.

"This okay, love?" he murmured in your ear once you'd been seated at the small, candle-lit table. "Not too public or anything?"

You nodded quickly, struggling to find your voice for a moment. "It's perfect, thank you."

When the waiter came round with your drink orders, shockingly flagrant heart eyes and a request for Harry's autograph, you couldn't help the small giggle that escaped. Harry merely flashed the young man a tight smile and politely declined while squeezing your hand where it rested on the white tablecloth.

"Sorry 'bout him, darling," he murmured with a slight grimace as the waiter retreated with reddened cheeks. "Not exactly the most romantic welcome, eh?"

"Oh hush, you," you swatted his arm playfully. "Although I will admit it wasn't the most subtle 'hot for Harry' look I've ever witnessed."

Harry choked out a surprised laugh, green eyes dancing merrily in the soft candlelight. "A bit familiar with those kinds of looks then, are you sweetheart? Should I be worried?"

"Well let's see...how jealous do you get when Perfect Polly Instagram won't stop flooding my feed with thirsty tongue emojis every time you so much as breathe?" You quirked one cheeky brow at him over the rim of your water glass.

Harry's grin only broadened, clearly delighted by your unexpected brashnrss. "Well now, darling, sounds like I may need to have a few stern words with Polly myself. Letting the world know in no uncertain terms just whose girl you are."

A fresh blush crept across your cheekbones at his words and the undercurrent of possession laced through them. No matter how much you wanted to play it coy and unaffected, you couldn't deny the arousing trill of satisfaction at Harry considering you his.

Before you could formulate any sort of snarky reply, the waiter arrived to take your orders. Harry gallantly allowed you to go first, regarding you intently in the meanwhile. As soon as the poor man left again, he fixed you with such an endearingly besotted look the breath caught in your throat.

"Have I mentioned lately how stunning you are, Y/N? Because you truly take my breath away."

You rolled your eyes instinctively, though a soft giggle escaped along with it. "Pretty smooth there, rockstar. Though I suspect you've used that line on a few girls in your day

Harry let out an amused chuckle, not even attempting to deny your playful accusation. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, all loose-limbed grace as he regarded you with a tender warmth.

"Can't say it's my best material, I'll admit. But then, something tells me you'd be able to see straight through any less-than-genuine flattery, darling."

You arched one eyebrow teasingly. "Oh? And what gave you that impression, Mr. Styles?"

"Call it a hunch," he murmured, gaze dropping briefly to your lips before flickering back up to hold your stare steadily. "You seem like the type who'd appreciate a man being honest and upfront."

A delighted shiver coursed through you at his words - both the graveled timbre and the implication behind them. Before you could formulate a suitably flirtatious response, the waiter returned bearing your steaming entrees.

"Ah, perfect timing!" Harry exhaled with a crooked grin, deftly switching gears. "I don't know about you, gorgeous, but I'm famished."

As the mouthwatering aroma of seafood linguine wafted up from your plate, you realized just how ravenous you were as well. You'd been so wrapped up in Harry's charming presence that you'd nearly forgotten about sustenance altogether. Shaking your head slightly, you picked up your fork with an answering grin.

"Well then, we'd better tuck in before it gets cold! I want you to have the full authentic experience."

Over the next little while, you and Harry fell into an easy flow of idle conversation and shameless flirtatious banter. He peppered you with random questions about your interests and background, seeming to hang on your every response with rapt fascination.

"How does a gorgeous, talented thing like you end up gracing this city anyway?" he asked at one point, toying idly with the stem of his wineglass. "Surely some bloke back in Cheshire should've snatched you up ages ago."

You couldn't bite back your snort of laughter. "What, you don't think I'm capable of being a self-assured, independent woman?"

Waving a dismissive hand, you continued before he could protest. "I came down to Venice for uni, fell in love with the energy and creative pulse of the city. Never looked back really!"

Harry's dimples peeked out as his lips curved into an admiring grin. "That's my girl - chasing her dreams on her own terms instead of waiting around for someone else's validation." He topped off your wineglass with a wink. "Though I suspect you have a fair few blokes - and birds, let's be real - kicking themselves for not locking it down sooner, eh?"

You made a show of batting your lashes coyly even as warmth bloomed across your cheeks. "Well I certainly can't complain about the options in London..."

"Hey now!" Harry cut in with a laugh, pointing his fork accusingly. "Don't go getting too big for your britches just yet, missy. I'll have you know I'm quite the hot commodity meself these days."

"Oh I'm sure," you tittered, delighting in the back-and-forth. "Though sadly the panda fever seems to have passed me by. Do go on though, I'm all ears for these sordid tales of Harry Styles: Omega Idol."

Harry made a playfully outraged sound, clutching at his chest. "Omega?! Why I never...if anything, I reckon I'm more of a prime alpha specimen."

"Is that so?" You leaned forward slightly, resting your chin on one palm as you gave him an overtly assessing look up and down. "I don't know, popstar...I'm just not sure you've got the stride for it."

With a wicked glint in his eye, Harry pushed back from the table and stood in one lithe movement. He began slowly unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as you watched with rising heat, finally shrugging the jacket off his shoulders entirely and letting it pool on his vacant chair.

"How's this, darling?" he purred, voice like liquid velvet as he stalked around the table towards you with leonine grace. "Giving you more...alpha...vibes now?"

Your mouth went abruptly dry, eyes riveted to the expanse of golden skin and corded muscle on display now above his slacks. Harry came to a stop directly beside your chair, towering over you with one large hand braced on the table and the other settling on the back of your seat.

When you managed to tear your gaze up and meet his heated stare, your insides clenched with a molten thrill. Those emerald depths glittered with sin and challenge and something so magnetic it stole the air from your lungs.

"Well?" Harry's smooth baritone rumbled through you, lips curved in the most sinfully sensual of smirks. "Any other concerns about my...prowess, love?"

As if in a daze, you slowly shook your head. Your fingers itched with the fierce urge to reach out and map the hard planes of his chest and abdomen for yourself. To revel in the warmth and solidity of the man caging you in his orbit.

Just as you felt yourself leaning inexorably closer, chasing that gravitational pull, a discreet throat clearing had you jumping nearly out of your skin. You whipped your head around to find your waiter standing by with wide eyes and twin spots of color in his cheeks.

"Ahh, s-Signore Styles!" he stammered slightly, adjusting his tie with unsteady fingers. "Is there, ehm, anything else I can get for you and...and the signora?"

Harry didn't so much as spare the younger man a glance, languid eyes still burning into your flushed face with heated promise. His hand came up to toy with one of the curled tendrils framing your neck, featherlight touch raising goosebumps along your skin.

"No, mate," he rumbled, voice gone low and thick as smoke. "We're quite alright for now. Thanks though."

As the flustered water beat a hasty retreat, still blushing furiously, you let out a breathless giggle. "Poor bloke looked seconds away from a heart attack!"

Harry's teeth flashed in a wolfish grin as his fingers continued tracing idle patterns against your sensitive skin. "Can't say I blame him, love. I'd be scandalized too if I had to look at something as sinfully gorgeous as you for too long."

Oh good lord, how did he always manage to rob you of oxygen with the smallest comments? Knowing you had to regain at least a modicum of composure before this evening descended into a lust-crazed fiasco, you squeezed Harry's bicep gently.

"Right, well I'll kindly ignore your skewed vision for now, mister. But maybe take a step back before you give the other diners something to gawk at besides rugged good looks?"

Chuckling again, Harry obediently slid away, reclaiming his seat in one smooth motion. But not before dipping to brush the faintest whisper of lips across your blushing cheek.

When he straightened, that cheeky glimmer was back twinkling in his eyes like he knew damn well the effect he had on you. Still, you welcomed the brief chance to take a few calming breaths without his intoxicating presence overwhelming you entirely.

Over the next while, you and Harry continued your flirtatious back-and-forth in between sampling bites of dessert. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, keeping him on his toes while simultaneously swooning over every sinfully appealing aspect of him.

Mercifully, the arrival of your shared tiramisu dessert provided a temporary reprieve from the thick, smoldering tension crackling between you. Though you had to swallow down a fresh wave of want at the sight of Harry wrapping those obscenely lush lips around his first bite.

With a soft moan of appreciation, he closed his eyes briefly as the flavors melted across his tongue. "Oh darling, you have to try this...it's heavenly."

Hazily, you gave a jerky nod and accepted the offered forkful. The rich, creamy taste burst over your senses in a blend of cocoa, espresso, and perhaps just a hint of Harry's unique musk.

A slow smile curved your lips as you let out a moan of your own accord. "God yes, Harry...it's amazing."

Dinner finally devoured, you settled back with a contented sigh and studied him through your lashes. He was nursing the last sip of his wine, cheeks faintly flushed and hair deliciously rumpled. You'd never seen a more beautiful sight in your life.

"What?" he rumbled out, almost seeming to read your thoughts.

You shook your head minutely but allowed your smile to deepen. "Nothing, I'm just...really enjoying this. All of this. Thank you for tonight, Harry."

His features melted into an expression of such tender warmth your heart physically ached. Wordlessly, Harry reached across the table to thread his fingers with yours. The pad of his thumb traced slow, maddening circles over the pulse point of your wrist.

"No, my sweet girl. Thank you."

His voice was scarcely above an intimate murmur, vowels rasping with palpable sincerity that left you breathless. Those searing emerald eyes burned into your very soul as if entreating you to understand everything unspoken behind his simple words.

"Shall we take a little stroll before calling it an evening?" Harry suggested softly, though his gaze never lost its ardent intensity. "Work off a bit of dinner before dessert, so to speak?"

Those last few words vibrated between you like the richest melted chocolate - sultry promises in every syllable. You gave a small, dazed nod, utterly helpless to resist this man's charms.

"I'd love that."

Outside, the evening summer breeze was balmy and scented with the rich greenery of Hyde Park across the street. Harry looped your arm through his as you began ambling the quiet paths winding through the gardens.

For a few blissful moments, you simply soaked in the peaceful ambiance of being so intimately entwined with one another. Harry's familiar crisp cologne surrounded you, his strong bicep flexing beneath your fingers. Occasionally, he'd dip close to murmur some silly pun or observation that would have you giggling softly against his shoulder.

Coming around a bend, the two of you emerged beside a small, glassy pond with a quaint wooden bridge arching over. Tiny white lights had been strung across the handrails, casting a warm romantic glow across the entire scene.

"Oh Harry...it's gorgeous!" You breathed out in wonder, tugging him forward eagerly. "We have to get a better look!"

Harry chuckled indulgently behind you but hurried to keep pace as you practically dragged him along. The sound of your breathless laughter and happy footfalls filled the intimate little enclosure, echoing back from the dark trees surrounding you.

When you reached the apex of the bridge, you turned to face Harry with eyes shining brilliantly and smile beaming. A few loose tendrils of hair had escaped their soft updo to feather around your flushed cheeks. You looked utterly radiant in the ethereal lighting.

"Thank you for tonight," you sighed out, slipping your fingers through the soft hair at his nape. "It's been...everything I could have dreamed honestly."

Harry gazed at you with undisguised reverence, hands settling at the dip of your waist as he slowly pulled you flush against him.

"The pleasure has been all mine, I can assure you. Every second with you has been magical...you're magical, Y/N."

Then his mouth was slanting hotly over yours in a searing, drugging kiss. You melted into his strong embrace with a soft moan, fingers tightening against his silken locks. Harry's tongue swiped across the seam of your lips in a blatant request for deeper exploration that you instantly granted.

One broad palm pressed insistently into the curve of your lower back, arching your body even further into his solid heat. The rasp of his stubble abraded your skin deliciously as his mouth moved with skilled insistence against yours. You could taste the lingering notes of the rich Cabernet from dinner alongside his own uniquely masculine essence.

Only when your lungs were screaming for air did Harry finally tear away, foreheads pressed together as you both panted harshly. His eyes were dark as sin, heavy-lidded and smoldering in the low light.

"God, I've been wanting to do that from the first moment I saw you with paint on your nose," he confessed in a low rasp. "Nearly drove me mad, you were so bloody gorgeous."

Shivering at the rough timbre trickling down your spine, you nipped at his jawline playfully. "Is that so, Mr. Styles? I'll have to make sure to wear more paint around you in the future then."

Harry growled out a dark chuckle, flexing his fingers against your waist in a possessive squeeze. "You ought to be careful, sweetheart. This alpha has been on his best behavior...but only for so long."

Your mouth went dry at the heated promise in his words, desire throbbing through you like a physical force. Before you could even think to respond, Harry ducked in to capture you in another mind-melting embrace, this one deeper and more demanding than the last.

For long, hysterical moments, all conscious thought faded into a swirl of roaming hands and twining tongues. You could hardly tell where he began and you ended, your very essence tangling and melding most divinely.

"Y/N," Harry gritted out in a low, strained tone, pulling fractionally back. The stark hunger ravaging his expression would have stolen your breath away if his searing kisses hadn't already accomplished that.

"Yes?" You exhaled his name back like a respectful sigh.

Those mossy green irises you loved so dearly blazed into yours with naked yearning.

"Let me take you home."

***

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back2bluesidex · 3 days

Text

Seven Minutes - KNJ (18+)

Pairing: Namjoon X Reader

Theme: Major Angst, implied smut, fluff if you squint, Time-traveler Namjoon (?)

Wordcount: 1.1k+

Summary: Namjoon goes around the world in a day in just seven minutes.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, cock riding, creampie (it's a no no), death, very angsty, time travelling but not really. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: I don't know what is this honestly. I managed to incorporate rpwp tracks in the story but I hope you guys don't cry. let me know how it is if you want <3

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The first trail of winter is evident under the soft glow of sun.

Leaves are starting to turn brown, there is a chill in the early morning air, the last remnants of fog are still clinging to the dust.

But Namjoon can’t feel a thing, neither the chill nor the foggy air. He is not from this world or timeline after all.

Namjoon sees himself, the younger version, standing at the bus stop waiting for the vehicle to arrive so he can leave for his first class.

He used to be so sorted out even in his early twenties but that faded with time.

And then he sees you, the younger version of you.

Rushing past him you reach where the younger Namjoon is standing currently.

You look the same - just so beautiful.

It is the moment that younger Namjoon fell for you.

It is the moment everything started.

When he peeks he sees his younger self stealing glances at you. He smiles at the dumbfoundedness of the younger boy, who is very clearly taken aback with your beauty.

It was the very moment he fell for you.

But right now he feels like he has been the wrong person in the right place.

Only if it were someone else, you probably would have been happier than he had ever managed to make you.

Everything surrounding Namjoon morphes into black and gradually the scene changes.

Now he finds himself standing inside a wedding hall.

The wedding hall, where he got tied with you.

There are familiar faces everywhere, some of the faces he missed seeing, some of the faces he hated seeing, and some he never saw properly in the first place.

Then his eyes fell on your figure.

You look so divine, so gorgeous that he could start crying right away.

Your gloved hands are held by another younger version of himself, the one that claimed to be your groom.

He watches as you two take vows one by one, promising for a forever that he failed to keep.

And then the kiss.

Namjoon recalls he felt like heaven at that moment.

You felt like heaven to him.

Just as before, everything starts morphing into a blackhole again. The scene changes and now he is standing inside your shared bedroom.

The first thing he sees is the sunkissed smooth skin of your naked back, then his eyes drift down towards your hip. His younger self is clutching onto your waist as if his life depends on it.

The grunts and moans are mixing with the already tensed air and making things even worse.

He watches you ride the other him, your tits bouncing with every move you make.

You have always rode him like a pro, making him go nuts.

You release, triggering his own climax. He spills into you shamelessly.

“I- I love you so much” his younger self confesses to his freshly wedded wife, you.

“I love you too, Joon.” you reply ardently.

The scene changes with another rush of black.

This time he travels to a much recent time, only two years prior to his own timeline.

You two are now married for five years already.

The promises of loving each other have started crumbling down under the weight of busy schedules, unspoken truths and the monotonous routine of everyday life.

The love his younger self confessed of has turned into a habit.

He sees you waiting. You are sitting on the couch, staring towards the condo door as if you haven't seen him for years.

Namjoon wishes you could actually see the current version of himself, who is also desperate to reach out to you now.

But he knows it’s impossible. He doesn’t belong to this timeline.

The door opens. Another version of himself walks in, clearly tried and irritated.

“You’re late again.” your voice comes out thinner than the night-time air.

Younger Namjoon doesn’t give you a single nod and heads straight towards the bedroom.

He stands there, watching you as tear drops fall from your eyes one by one, roll down on your cheeks and soon turn into a downpour of heavy emotions.

Namjoon cries too, even when he can’t feel his own tears. He cries with you nonetheless.

This is the moment, he realized, he became lost for the rest of his lifetime.

This time the black is mixed with a little white, making things gray.

When the next scene appears, he finds himself, younger only by a year, sitting at his desk with his head leaned back and eyes closed.

You stand before him, crying, sobbing, almost begging.

The scene breaks his heart. But his younger self had been impressively heartless at that time.

“What do you mean you fell out of love?” you manage to speak in between the sobs.

“I said what I feel, Y/N. I need a break.” His younger self adds matter-of-fact-ly.

He hates it.

How could he be so blind? How could he not see what he was doing to you? How the hell did he manage to be such an asshole?

You break down at his words.

Namjoon turns his back at the scene. If he stays in this timeline for a second more, he will lose it.

And as if granting his prayers, the scene changes. The black nothingness gets even lighter this time.

Is this a sign of approaching the end of seven minutes?

This time he finds himself alone, the same one as himself, just a few hours prior.

He is sitting at an overpriced bar, clutching a whisky in his one hand, clutching his phone to his ear with another.

He is calling you.

“Come back to me, Y/N. come back to me.” he murmurs into the call.

If he remembers correctly, you cut the call as soon as he completed his sentence. You were unwilling to let him break you more, which he understands - appreciates.

Settings morph into a grayish black for one last time. And now he is back where he is supposed to be.

Namjoon’s soul stands beside the hospital bed, where his dead body is lying cold.

You are sitting right beside him, crying your eyes out.

Crying as if your heart has been ripped off and your blood is flowing ceaselessly.

Research says the human brain stays active for seven minutes after death to replay memories.

Is it a coincidence that he started his seven minutes with you and ended it with you?

Probably not because you have been his world, his most precious gain in life.

Even though he had caused you so much pain, you never truly left.

And see… you are here to mourn for his unfortunate, premature death.

Spending his last seven minutes with you is equivalent to going around the world in a day to him.

And this way Namjoon can bid you goodbye properly, even when you will never get to know about it.

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#bts angst #namjoon angst #bts smut #namjoon smut #rm smut #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #bts x you #namjoon x you #bts fanfictions #bts oneshot #bts drabble #bts namjoon #bts

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misty--nights · 2 days

Text

So I'm watching the show yet again (usually I struggle watching shows, I don't know how I've managed to watch it twice already and still want to watch it a third time), and here are some things that I've noticed in episode 1, after the read more because it got longer than expected.

Charles calls himself the brawn and the protector of the two, but it's Edwin who goes all serious and says "I would not let that happen" when Charles asks what they'd do if Death came for them. I'm sure/concerned that he'd try to fight her if she ever came to take them...

Edwin knits!! When they are wearing their disgusses to get the demon out of Crystal he knitts while Charles reads the newspaper. Granted, you can only see him doing for a short moment, so I don't know if he's doing it properly, but I like to think he is. I have many thoughts about this, but it would take over the whole post. I'm still willing to make a whole post for it if anyone is interested but yeah. Bottom line is, Edwin can knitt!

The tone of voice that Crystal uses when she first wakes up in the Agency and in her walk with Charles is really different to the tone she uses the rest of the season. In hindsight, it's pretty obvious that is her mean girl tone, but still, I just think it's a nice detail.

Edwin takes Crystal's coffee cup when she takes the mail? We've just stablished he's not going to drink it, so is he just being petty? Is he going to throw it away or hide it just to be a nuisance? Is he investigating what she got? This boy, I swear...

I know people have pointed out all the Clue boards in the closet, but there's also a ouija board there? Hilarious. Maybe some ghosts prefer communicating with that instead of speaking? Or Charles got it because he thought it was funny and then never got rid of it?

I like that the thing that convinces Edwin to take the Becky Aspen case is Charles asking if he's going to let a little girl die. But more importantly, the title card right after that says "three flights". I've had this question for a bit, but what do they do during those flights? Do the boys spend those just standing in the hallway next to Crystal's seat? Do they sit in the cockpit? Do they hide in the bathroom until someone comes to use it? Do they hope for empty seats they can use? I don't know, every possible version of their trip is so funny to me. I know ghosts don't get tired like alive people, but the idea of them just standing awkwardly off to the side for more than 10 hours is hilarious.

No big detail here, I just love Crystal's purple coat thing she wears in this episode. Never really noticed that it has like flowers embroidered at the bottom, and the color of the whole thing is so nice.

"Maybe he's our fucking demon now." Crystal I love you, that is one of the funniest lines in the episode. I also really like that she gets to be angry and scared. Even if later Jenny talks her down from the worst it, it's not her anger that she points out, it's the fact that people are just like that and how the boys act is nothing personal. Her anger is not directly attacked (except by Edwin, but that's just him being petty), because she gets to be angry about all that's happening to her.

The flashback to Edwin's life at St. Hilarion's changes the video aspect (is that the proper term for that? It makes the screen square like in older films is what I mean.) Also he card for that flasback specifies "Edwardian England" even while having the date at the bottom. I don't know, it made me chuckle that they felt the need to clarify the era even while having the date there. They don't put "modern day England" for Crystal's flashback.

With the way the cat reacted to the sardine, I'm willing to bet he would have told Edwin everything without the binding spell if Edwin had a few more fish for him.

When they're talking behind the shop and Crystal says she gets angry, Charles looks down and takes a bit to respond. I think this is the first time he relates to her. The first time he can call that pull twards her something more than mere attraction. He has this very vulnerable look when she says it and then immediately shows her his parents and tells her something he's never told anyone before? This boy saw his anger in someone else and thought maybe it's fine for him to be angry too.

Is it a trick of the light in the scene where she meets Niko, or does Crystal have a septum piercing?

"If you're sticking around, you gotta let us in." Charles, I love you, but you are the last person who should be saying this. Specially after that sad look he gets when Crystal says it must be hard not being able to talk or hug his parents. You just agreed to what she said, as if that were the truth of why you check on them, what do you mean "you gotta let us in"? (I do get that they haven't known each other for long so he's not going to open up about all his trauma, but precisely because of that, it's wild for him to expect her to do it.)

I never noticed Charles quickly returning the mirror to normal when Edwin comes. I'd noticed the audio cue for the mirror changing back, but I never noticed Charles moving to do it and he looks so panicked about it.

Considering how Edwin is about touch, the fact that he lets Crystal take his hand when she tells the that the case matters is huge.

Why are they planning down at the shop when they have Crystal's room all to themselves? Besides the ambiance, of course. I think Jenny's reaction is completely justified.

Esther leaves her turntable on when she goes to the post office. Is it for Monty? The atmosphere? Did she just forget?

Not a new discovery, just a reminder of something I really like. There's this very specific editing thing (like the quick cuts between the instruments and then the opened lock, I don't know what to call it) that they do pretty much every time Charles picks a lock / opens a door, and it makes me very happy each time. The sound they use for it is perfection.

Edwin's attention to detail is insane. The fact that he can recall one cupboard is further forward than it was in the plans is really impressive.

Charles sounds so done when he throws the magic backpack. "Put her in the bag-of-tricks backpack." Man, I can hear the eye roll in that sentence. Good to know Edwin isn't the only bitchy one in this relationship.

And that's it for episode 1. I think I might do this for the others as well as I watch them. It was really fun to do, and it forces me to pay attention to the details, so I think it's worthwhile.

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #jenny green #esther finch #niko sasaki #my writing

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666writingcafe · 1 day

Text

An Overgrown Puppy

Cerberus

It's really lonely down here.

I understand that most people are scared of a giant dog with three heads, especially when it's as loud as I am, but I don't mean them any harm. I can't help that I get excited easily.

Of course, when they start calling me names, that makes me angry. I suppose that's why I'm in this cavern in the first place: too much destruction on my part.

Still, it would be nice to have someone that wasn't afraid of me.

"Look, there's flowers bloomin' all over the place!"

As much as I want to begin jumping for joy, I must remain calm. The last set of people that came down here wanted to hurt me. I ended up with a couple meals out of the ordeal, but I wouldn't want to go through that experience again. For one, they tasted rather vile. It took me ages to get that out of my mouth, and even with that I can still taste them sometimes when I burp. It's rather annoying.

"Look how pretty we are..."

Oh no. Not the flowers.

Instinctively, I close all six of my eyes. If I can't see them, they can't tempt me, and my mind can remain clear.

Oh for fuck's sake!

That's not my voice. It doesn't belong to the other two heads, either. No, this belongs to someone else entirely.

This was meant to be a solo venture, but nooo. The brothers just HAD to tag along and make this more difficult for me. As it is, I doubt this creature is going to submit to me, anyway. I don't have anything it wants, but somehow Barbatos is convinced that I do.

Barbatos? They know him?

I like him. Unfortunately, he's too busy to take care of me properly, but he at least seemed sad to have to lock me away like this. Still, orders are orders; while the prince is a lot kinder than the king, he still has to worry about the fate of his people, and I've done too much damage to justify me continuing to walk free unsupervised.

Footsteps.

The flowers are still murmuring, so it's not safe for me to open my eyes and see who it is.

Oh. It's you. Hello, Cerberus.

Why are they acting like they know me?

They smell familiar.

Don't be ridiculous. We've never even met them before.

Listen, I know my scents, and I'm telling you, I recognize this one.

Here we go again. My left and right head arguing again. It doesn't help that one can see into the past while the other one into the future. Makes for way too many philosophical conversations that frankly give me a headache.

Then again, they do make sense sometimes. Like right now.

Let him sniff them.

Thankfully, the flowers shut up at this point, so I can finally open my eyes and see this person for myself. They're rather small. Maybe they would make a good appetizer, but chances are, they wouldn't fill me up, so there's no point in even trying.

The being before me extends their hand out towards me, and I lean down low enough so that my right head can sniff it.

MC! I knew it was you!

What's a person from the future doing here? Don't they know that their presence is going to change the timeline completely? They won't be able to return to the same place that they left.

That's a risk I was willing to take.

They can hear us?

I'm a little surprised myself. I thought our connection would be nonexistent here, but I guess you still know who I am. At least, part of you does.

I most certainly do! You give some of the BEST belly rubs and treats ever! Plus, you always come and soothe me whenever I can't sleep. I've missed you SO much, MC. It just isn't the same without you.

Please tell me they don't end up abandoning us. The idea of a good belly rub does sound nice.

No, no, nothing like that. In the timeline that I come from, you're primarily someone else's. I just help take care of you whenever I swing by to visit.

Oh, PLEASE! You're more than a mere caretaker. You're like my adoptive parent at this point. If I knew I wouldn't scare people up in the human world, I'm SURE we'd spend more time together, but as of right now, that simply isn't possible.

I can sort of follow along with the idea this MC being a human and yet appearing like a demon in this moment, but what I don't understand is this: if they don't end up being my owner, then who does?

This guy.

I totally didn't see him walk in. He's rather imposing with his wings spread out like that.

LUCI!!!

"Luci"?

It's short for Lucifer.

"Zephyr, what exactly is going on?" Lucifer asks, frustration evident in his voice. "Why are all of you down here in the first place? This isn't a safe place for you to be in. At all."

"Well, I came under Barbatos' instructions. Can't say the same about your brothers."

"Bullshit."

"You are more then welcome to talk to Barbatos yourself if you don't believe me, but I'm telling you the truth."

"Then why didn't you tell them to go home?"

"Because Mammon wanted to do something that would cause the other demons to finally shut up. He's tired of you all being treated like shit simply because you used to be angels." Lucifer slowly blinks in shock. "Believe me, I had every intention of sending them away, but I also wasn't about to argue with Mammon when he's that passionate about wanting to improve your situation here in the Devildom."

Six more demons appear, but they hover around the entrance, too afraid to step inside. Lucifer turns his head and looks straight at me, appearing deep in thought. It's clear that he's not the same person that my right head recognizes. Not because of his appearance, but rather his personality. He seems way too cold and rigid to love an animal.

Then again, I've heard that sometimes, those that appear that way end up being the ones that care about others the most. Maybe he's just putting up a emotional barrier at the moment, and he'll open up eventually.

"I suppose there's not room for him at your place, is there?" Lucifer finally sighs, maintaining eye contact with me.

"Unfortunately, no," MC/Zephyr answers. "And I don't want him wandering the woods by himself. He could get hurt." Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I really don't want to do this, but he seems rather attached to you, and it would be cruel to leave him here without knowing if and when he can see you again." He pauses. "He can stay at the House of Lamentation with us, but he's your responsibility, Zephyr. I don't want to hear you complain about having to take care of him, and you're certainly not going to push him onto one of us. If you can't manage that and still complete your duties as our attendant, then I'll have no choice but to put him back in here." MC/Zephyr nods their head.

"Understood." There's a slight glint in their eye, but either Lucifer doesn't notice it or is simply choosing not to comment on it.

It doesn't really matter in any case, because I'm about to be free of this cave! Oh, to breathe fresh air again!

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr

#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me cerberus #obey me mc #obey me lucifer

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ikamigami · 2 days

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THE CYCLE OF TRAUMA

In this post I'll try to explain how Sun is trapped in a cycle of trauma and I'll try to answer the question whether he can escape it or not and how he can escape it if it's possible.

I think that I know the answer to why Sun is often pushed aside and doesn't even feel like MC in Sun and Moon Show sometimes.. it's because the show is telling two stories.

One story is the one that we see. The one which follows mostly what happens with Moon because Moon does more things than Sun. Sun is doing his own things in the background. Or he's a gag character in most of funny lore episodes. This story is the surface level of watching it and seeing the obvious parallels between events.

It's not a bad way to engage with the show but it's more like watching MCU - easy story to follow with foreshadowing, payoffs and parallels.

But there's also a second story.. a story hidden in details and subtle hints and lines which are echoes of the past events.. and the main character of this story is Sun who is a traumatised victim of abuse.

This is more deep reading of events in the show - we could say it's meta interpretation of it.

I'm not going to lie to you that I found it weird and a bit repulsive how awfully Sun is treated as a victim of abuse.. because his trauma was never addressed properly - Sun could never talk openly about what happened to him and no one even helped him with that.. sometimes they didn't even want to listen to him..

I didn't want to accept that Sun healed off-screen or just even got better off-screen because of how much he went through and things like that just don't magically disappear.. all this trauma couldn't just disappear.. especially if Sun never had a break. His life is traumatising event after traumatising event after traumatising event..

"Stop! How can you say that Sun didn't have a break when he literally did while Solar and Moon took care of everything?" you're probably asking this right now. And my answer is: yes, you're right, Sun literally had a break. Literally - a surface level of watching show.. a story that we see..? You probably don't know what I'm trying to say. But this is exactly why I'm making this post.

Today's episode helped me realize that what's happening right now is just another face of Sun's trauma.

Moon is not only acting similarly to Old Moon but he even tried to guilt-trip Sun and he minimized his trauma by mocking it which was the exact same thing Old Moon was doing during their fights.

Moon even said that only after two years Sun was able to grow a spine to stand up to Moon.. doesn't it sound familiar?

Old Moon said during one of their fights that Sun shouldn't apologize for yelling at him because he shouldn't apologize for having a spine.. hmm.. it's obvious parallel yet it's a reverse one.

Old Moon was trying to make Sun stand up for himself in abusive way.

Now Moon is trying to squash Sun's confidence by laughing at Sun's efforts of trying to stand up for himself which essentially mocks Sun's trauma.

And later when I was watching mgafs episode it dawned on me. Sun went to Monty for help when Moon is dangerous.. doesn't it sound familiar?

The last time Sun went to Monty for help was when kill code reactivated in Old Moon.. but before that Sun went to Monty for help when Lunar was pretending to be Old Moon and they couldn't switch places.

But who told Sun to go to Monty for help if situation with Moon would be too much to handle for Sun? Old Moon.

It seems that Old Moon's words still have an impact on Sun.

But there's more.. Sun locked Moon in a cell just like Old Moon did to him a year ago. Sun decided to use shocks to keep Moon from doing something stupid and harming himself.

It really seems that Sun was influenced by Old Moon's actions.

But also the only helpful thing that Sun knows is talking to Earth because Earth was the one who helped him back then.. so if Earth's words didn't help Moon what else can?

Old Moon never listened to Sun and now Moon also doesn't listen to him. So what left?

He went to Monty for help but it turned out that Monty can't help. Monty's words don't work anymore with Moon like they used to with Old Moon. Monty and Foxy's only solution is to forcefully snap Moon out of it by endangering Sun at expense of Bloodmoon's life cause who cares about Bloodmoon..

So the only answer is violence. But if you think about it Sun's life is filled with violence to the brim. Old Moon used to solve their every problem with violence. New Moon also tried to solve their every problem by killing whoever he deemed an enemy.

Sun tried to talk with Eclipse but it didn't work. The only thing that left was to expell him from his head which was a death of OG Eclipse.

He tried to warn Bloodmoon. It didn't work and he killed them in self-defence.

He tried to listen to V2 Eclipse (Eclipse with the star) but Eclipse could only threaten them and told them to kill Lunar. So the only thing that left was to push Eclipse through the portal and Moon killed him.

He tried to talk to New Bloodmoon but it didn't work either and the only thing that left once again was violence.

He convinced Moon to help Ruin which turned out to be Solar's and trillions of others' lives doom. So what left? They had to lock Ruin but it created more problems - Molten trying to kill him and now Ruin is once again working with Bloodmoon and we can only imagine that they're up to no good. So they'd most definitely have to use violence.

Sun tried to resolve things differently. He tried to help. But none of this worked. His help only made things worse. And everyone's answer seem to be only violence.. violence violence violence violence violence violence violence..

So it's not surprising at all that Sun is doing what Old Moon taught him. Even if it isn't what Sun wants. And the worse thing is that now others are trying to force him to make a decision that will have an impact on everything. It'll either work and things will get better or it won't and everything will get worse.

You may say that Sun has Earth and Lunar as a support. But while it is true that he still has them they already expressed that they don't want to help. And let's be honest, neither Earth nor Lunar did much to help Sun with his trauma. They aknowledged it but that's it. Lunar never talked about it with Sun. And the only thing Earth did was apologizing to Sun for making him sad by mentioning Old Moon's death because she knows how hard it is for him.

But it isn't what Sun needs. He needs help. You may say "why he doesn't talk to them about his trauma?" The thing is he tried. But when he needed help the most - after Old Moon's death - they told him to move on or Moon straight up yelled at him for just simply mentioning Old Moon.

So it's not surprising that Sun doesn't try to open up about it anymore. Because he learned that it's better not to do that. And that's why he thinks that his issues are less important than others' problems. Because no one cared to help him. But because Sun knows that they love him so there's only one reason why they didn't help him. And this reason is that his issues aren't that much of a big deal. Why should he bother others with his issues when others don't seem to care that much? They probably don't care that much because these issues aren't real problems.. I bet that this is what Sun thinks about that.

Let's get back to the main topic of this post. Sun is trapped in a cycle of trauma. From the beginning of his existence the only thing he knows is trauma. First with Old Moon who abused him physically, mentally and emotionally. Later Old Moon promised to change yet he left Eclipse in Sun's head which created another trauma for Sun and Old Moon didn't stop being abusive. Later when they thought that they defeated Eclipse another problem appeared - Bloodmoon. But it wasn't enough because it turned out that there's new Eclipse who activated Old Moon's kill code reopening Sun's trauma.

Eventually Sun's already poor mental state worsened even more and he experienced psychotic episode. And what others did at that time? They abandoned Sun and because he was too detached from reality he wasn't able to stop himself. And in such state he did things that he regrets. But even if he regrets them he can't do anything about it. He has to live with consequences of his actions even if he wasn't at fault for neither Old Moon's nor Lunar's death. But it only deepened his trauma.

At that point Sun thought that the only solution is to die hoping for fresh start like Moon had. Hence why he decided to be conduit for star's power and tried to sacrifice himself. Thankfully he survived and Eclipse was gone. Things seemed to get better. Unfortunately Sun's family didn't help him with his trauma at that time. Even if it was the best time to adress his issues considering that he was still suicidal back then.

Though Ruin already was a threat. After all he kidnapped Sun and the way Moon dealt with it wasn't the best - reminding Sun of his trauma once again. Yet back then Ruin's threat seemed so distant. Until he decided to bring Bloodmoon back. And also Solar's appearing disrupted dynamics in the family regardless of this being unintentional. Then Ruin blew up the Daycare and Sun and Moon were sent to Ruin's dimension.

And even if later things seemed to get better once again it wasn't long before Bloodmoon completely mauled Earth's body and they had to deal with them and also Stitchwraith threatened that if they'll try to interfere he will do worse things then simply kidnapping Earth.

At that time Sun seemed very distanced from everyone. He had serious memory issues and he wasn't answering any messages and calls. It didn't seem good.

And then Eclipse returned once again. And we all of a sudden found out that Sun was feeling great until Eclipse's return.. it doesn't add up.

And later Sun decided to leave everything to Moon and Solar to deal with while he was spending time alone in their house, drinking wine and relaxing with his cats.. and he seemingly got better. He just needed a break.

It doesn't make much sense when you consider everything Sun went through. Yes, on surface level Sun seems to be doing much better and break helped him.. but is it actually true?

If we look at it deeper through lense of a story of very traumatised victim of abuse.. it seems that this was Sun's another attempt at breaking the cycle of trauma. The first attempt was sacrificing himself. Second was to try and avoid getting engaged with anything. After all when he tried to help everything got worse. So he naturally tried to do the opposite.. which turned out even worse.

Solar died because of Ruin's plan and he wouldn't be able to do it if it wasn't for Sun convincing Moon to help him. Moon is now losing his mind because of Solar's death and like Sun said he wishes that he said more to Moon when he had mental breakdown. And now Moon is acting worse than Old Moon and Sun is basically reliving his trauma. Sun is trying his best to keep his family together but is he actually able to do that?

You may think that he is.. but when you consider Sun's mental state - depressive psychosis and delusions centered around guilt and unworthiness making Sun feel like he's the one who is bad.. it doesn't seem likely.

You can disagree with me but there's plenty of evidence that support my claim. Also Moon told Sun that he has a little bit of Eclipse in him still.. and not so long ago Eclipse told Sun that he would make a good Eclipse when this is exactly what Sun was afraid of a year ago. And Lunar back then told him that he's acting exactly like Eclipse.

I'm pretty sure that it's affecting Sun. As much as he tries to say otherwise. That Moon's words doesn't have any impact on him anymore. It's not true. After all, we can still see how much Old Moon's words affected him.

Having all of this in mind, I wouldn't be surprised if Sun ended up blaming himself for what happened. Also considering that things will get worse soon. After all, Taurus is after Lunar and he'll either execute them immediately or put them to test.. which probably won't be anything nice. And Earth is hiding that she's friends with Eclipse and she trusts him more than her family because she tells Eclipse things that she wouldn't say to them. And who knows what Ruin and BM will do. And lastly.. Sun will find out soon that Dazzle is victim of July 16th incident. It doesn't look too good for him.

Even if Sun keeps going for his family. Will he be able to take more of this?

I don't think so. Because why then showrunners didn't let things to get better even if a bit? Why everything seems to get worse?

But is there a way for Sun to escape the cycle of trauma? He tried to sacrifice himself which even if it'd ended with him being dead he still would do something good, right? He'd protect his family. He tried to distance himself from everything to not make things worse with his help. But it ended up making everything even worse. So is there any option left for Sun to break the cycle?

Yes, the help of others. Unfortunately it doesn't seem likely. Even now when Sun is clearly suffering he still chose not to talk about his own feelings but focused on Moon. Even when he's hurting so much that Monty and Foxy found Sun crouching outside Monty's house. Yet he didn't say anything. And what they did to help him? They told him that he needs to make a decision that he isn't capable to make in the state he is right now.

But what about Earth and Lunar? Like I said Lunar will have a much more concerning problem soon enough. And when Sun will find out about Earth's secret.. I doubt he'll trust her to talk about his own issues. You may say that he can change his mind about Eclipse. Maybe normally he could but not now. Not when he's reliving his trauma and his mental state is threatening to worsen. Sun isn't in any condition to deal with his own issues with Eclipse unless Eclipse will surprisingly not insult Sun and will be able to convince him that he wants to help. But Sun isn't in the right state of mind to deal with it, to rethink everything between the two of them and try to forget about trauma Eclipse caused him and his family.

And when Sun will learn the truth about Dazzle.. I wouldn't be surprised if it'll be a final straw for him.

So what else left? How can break the cycle? The answer is he can't. He could with a help of his family but it really seems not to be an option.

Though there's one thing that will stop the cycle of trauma once and for all. And it's death. You may say that Sun already tried to do that. Yes but also no. Back then Sun thought that he'll be lucky if he get reset and if not he'll at least sacrifice himself to protect his family.

But what about now? There's a plan to put Sun in dangerous situation that will cause Sun harm in order to snap Moon out of the state he's in. But if it won't work Moon will kill Bloodmoon and then I doubt that he'll stop at that. And then what?

This plan is messed up because no one can be sure if it'll work and there are very high chances that Moon's mental state will worsen either way. I bet that Sun will try to help no matter what.

Edit: I forgot to mention that Foxy wanted Sun to decide when he'll say enough is enough and he let them kill Moon which isn't an option for Sun - imagine keep going with this in mind that the life of your brother depends on your decision.

But when things will get worse will he be able to keep going? After all he wasn't able to help anyone, to stop anyone, to comfort anyone.. he tried everything yet things only got worse. And because of Sun's mental issues I'm pretty sure that he'll blame himself for everything. So even if Sun will still have Earth and Lunar (maybe).. can he be sure that his decisions won't end up harming the rest of his family?

I wouldn't be surprised if Sun will consider taking his own life as an answer to how stop this madness. If he thinks that all of this is his fault and he even expressed that himself that he was wondering if it'd be better if Moon and him never separated.. and even if Sun went to dimension where they separated but Eclipse never happened and they seem to have happy lives. That Moon didn't help Sun that much and even if he said that deep down Moon still cares.. now Sun learned that it isn't true. Sun can't handle this anymore.

Sun's mental state seems to be not good but considering what is about to happen it'll only get worse. I doubt that Sun will be able to think it through and stop himself from doing it while everything around him is collapsing and he thinks that it's all because of him..

I won't say that he'll succeed because there's high chance that someone will stop him or even if he'll attempt it he may end up heavily injured or in a coma and not dead dead.

But seeing how showrunners keep making things harder and worse for Sun and knowing that Davis wanted to include topic of suicide but previously received backlash for that though it seems that the issue either got resolved or they decided to implement it anyway it seems highly likely that Sun may try to kill himself.

I'm not saying that he'll do that but this is just my hypothesis based on the analysis of events in the show and meta analysis of Sun's character and that his character represents a story of traumatised victim of abuse. I'd rather have them addressing it even if it'd mean that Sun will attempt suicide then them completely ignoring it showing viewers that "screw victims of abuse".

We may argue about whether VAs are doing good job with portraying this things in the show but I don't want to immediately say that there's no hope and that they just don't care about the fact that they made Sun to be a victim of abuse.

I'm trying to be positive about this and I hope that Sun's trauma eventually will be addressed. I'm trying to trust the process. Maybe I'm a fool for doing so but whatever. I don't care about it.

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britt-kageryuu · 3 days

Text

An unusual amount of people are watching Donnie doing some programming. He had explained that he was challenged to make a game within a relatively short time frame, but hadn't explained what the game was supposed to be about yet.

His model is seated at a desk, and only seen from the torso up. Wearing a very comfy looking purple hoodie with a few pride pins, Nonbinary, Ace, and Progressive Flage, his mask, and his goggles/headphones.

"Okay, so I know what I'm planning for this game is way more than it needs to be, and I don't have a good chunk of the 'story' figured out. But I had a burst of inspiration for the game. I just need to make it actually make sense, even in this very obviously fictional setting." Donnie explains as he continues to switch between the programming screen, and a section of the environment filled with lots of random notes of what the area might be for.

The chat is tossing around their speculations of what the game is about. Especially since one of the Notes says "Need to finish mock up model, and check for potential copyright issues."

Donnie is now very focused on part of the program that has a tag saying it's for a enemy AI, and a reminder to not go to far. "Before anyone asks about these notes and tags. I need to remind you that Shelldon started as an AI assistant that could control some devices like the Roomba through bluetooth, and look at him now! My handsome robot Son who is very very very smart." He continues to gush about Shelldon and River for a few minutes, "I almost forgot my point, SHELLDON had a glitch early on that caused him to stop listening to anyone, and almost lead a Roomba army out onto the world... He was fixed very quickly, and I only had to deal with him acting like a teenager for a few weeks as a side effect."

As he talked he opened a file titled 'VT Game Assets WIP', there were multiple files each labeled like 'coffee shop', 'studio AB', 'stage 1-5' and looked through a few different 'enemies' folders to figure which one he should use in the environment labeled 'New Start Entertainment'.

"Though really the only reason I'm getting through this as quickly as I am, is because we have a huge library of random props, outfits, and of course environments. All made by Mandarin and I for no real reason other than 'just incase'." Donnie takes a moment to stretch after sitting still for like 3-4 hours. "This game as a whole would probably be judged for how quickly it's coming together and assuming it's not worth their time."

He then pulls up the fighting system- a plain mannequin fighting what could be described as a feral possessed plush toy. Once again catching some more attention and sparking some more debates in what the game was about if it needed a combat system to continue.

"Well that seems to be working properly for now, we just need to adjust for the other parts of the main setting. And actually finish the protagonist and other characters models so I don't just have a mannequin placeholders. It looks too much like we're copying that one cartoon that's getting big."

Donnie gets hyper focused on the programming and ignores chat and donations for the next hour. With the occasional muttering about what needs to changed, or they need to redo some of the textures and art assets because they aren't lining up properly.

Chat somehow never figure out what the game was about, and still continued to cheer Donnie on for working on the game.

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

Masterpost Part 2

#vturtles!#vtuber au #rottmnt au #tmnt au #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #rise donatello #rise donnie #rottmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanfiction #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2018 #rise tmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt rise #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt

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greenqueenhightower · 3 days

Note

https://www.reddit.com/r/HouseOfTheDragon/comments/15nfr5o/the_loss_of_aemonds_eye_was_everyones_fault/

There's whole threads dedicated to the night Aemond lost an eye and where the hell was everyone including Criston who was meant to be on guard duty. He personally comes with some lameass excuse why he was not at his post. Where is he specifically that night when he's meant to be guarding the royal family? He was meant to be on watch and he wasn't. I wonder how he got away with such dereliction of duty. I'm guessing B &C he does it again, just wandering off. I don't know what part Alicent plays in it properly but he has a certified history of deserting his post.

Criston was meant to be on guard duty yes, but where exactly? Outside the King’s chambers? Outside Alicent’s? Aegon’s, Aemond’s, Helaena’s? Because again, they are guests of the Velaryons. The Velaryons have their own guards (which are many more). The comment “You have the night watch, Ser Criston” that Westerling makes at Driftmark informs us that yes, Criston will be keeping watch at night, but he wasn’t the only one (as we see later on when there are guards present at the Velaryons' hall). It just means that Westerling won’t be keeping watch. If you remember, Westerling asks Viserys “Shall I look after Queen Alicent, Your Grace?” to which Viserys says no. Therefore, Criston is assigned that role. So Criston wasn’t meant to be guarding the whole Velaryon household, and neither would he get any near Rhaenyra’s and Daemon’s children. His position has always been with regard to Alicent, serving as her sworn protector. The fact that Westerling (and in armor) found the children first indicates that he had rather still not gone to bed, not that he had the night watch. He simply heard the commotion and ran. Criston was probably further away (as were Alicent and Viserys) when all this happened. If you take a look at the scene, Criston is not blamed by Westerling. He is questioned by Viserys but so is Westerling. Even if Criston was blamed by Westerling who is his superior, it could be explained due to their animosity as it is established throughout season 1. Westerling, if he put the blame on Criston (and he didn't) would have been looking for a scapegoat to blame in the heat of the moment just like Alicent did by slapping Aegon. All in all, I would not say that Criston has a “certified history for deserting his post” since Westerling, his superior, didn’t seem to think so.

#hotd driftmark #driftmark #hotd episode 7 #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd meta #hotd thoughts #hotd discussion #hotd discourse #ser criston cole #criston cole #harrold westerling #hotd season 1 #greenqueenhightower #greenqueenasks #alicent hightower #thanks for the ask!#team green #alicole

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lilacxquartz · 2 days

Text

Don't Make Me Feel Alive I Chapter 5

Kenjaku (Pseudo-Geto) × Fem!Reader

ABOUT: Diagnosed at an early age with an illness that slowly deteriorated your body; you went from being a promising sorcerer to a retired husk of your once former self until he found you, offering you an opportunity to live instead—not that you had a choice to refuse.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: After a night alone, he lets you out again with a new agenda in mind. Something you didn’t like at all.

Trigger warning: non-con elements/unaware reader.

Previous Chapter.

Upon returning to you the next day after having spent a good chunk of it thinking about the best course of action, he returned to you and activated the pendant at his own will, restoring your ability to properly utilise its function and in turn, feeling closer like yourself once again.

The sensation surely felt odd though—as if you were a machine, slowly rebooting after being turned off. You remembered his description from before, finding it oddly fitting.

Kenjaku otherwise ultimately ended up deciding on committing to the binding vow overnight, after all, despite his consideration for alternative options, because technically speaking, he had absolutely zero use for someone who refused to help him and if it wouldn’t have been a waste of time and resources, he could have just disposed of you overnight, regardless of your potential.

So rather than doing that, he instead decided to resolve his plans a different way instead and have the death painting fight in your place instead. He could simply just entrust Mahito’s alliance to oversee the plan otherwise and keep you behind as a trump card if need be.

After all, a lightning user that he had under his control could prove powerful and unpredictable to his opponents, especially given your potential capabilities. For one, it could help escape tense situations or to sacrifice you in case he faced something or someone that collided with his plans.

Or… should he scrap the sacrifice idea? His mind churned just a little at the thought, even if it was a joke in his mind.

The point still stood though, he needed to get you on board for something else. Something more serious, something potentially life changing—but only while you were still in such a malleable state.

You were vulnerable enough for anything.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, drawing closer as his fingers tweezed your chin, forcing you to meet his stare, “don’t look at me like that.”

You were giving him a certain type of look today and he didn’t like it, even if he could understand why you were being so guarded.

You relented his touch, forcing your sights downwards, “how else should I look at you?”

“Look, I went about it wrong, I do admit,” he replied, lifting your chin back up, “however, what if I offer something that could benefit both of us?”

“Then I wouldn’t buy it,” you replied, failing to move away, “not if it’s coming from you.”

“Ah, don’t be like that,” he smiled once more as he replied to you in a teasing tone, finding it amusing to keep winding you up, “I’m not that bad, you know.”

(But he knew that he absolutely was.)

There was a pause that followed as he awaited your response, seeming slightly disappointed when you never fulfilled his curiosity and kept quiet instead. Moving on without skipping a beat, he decided to unveil his grand offer.

“Anyway, I’d like to propose a binding vow. Nothing too serious.”

You blinked as you were taken aback. A binding vow was serious no matter how you looked at it.

“You’re kidding?” you asked.

“I am not,” he replied in a very sure way.

“There is nothing casual about a binding vow,” you sighed, feeling the corners of your lips sink into a frown. You already had an idea of what this strange guy was, so you had a feeling that by the end of this conversation, you’d be entangled in something you shouldn’t be because he wouldn’t let you back out of it.

“A binding vow doesn’t have to be dramatic,” he teased, “at least hear me out.”

You sighed in a resigned manner, feeling weary already, giving him a look that indicated that you were at the very least listening.

He smiled again, continuing, “Dedicate your efforts into helping me carry out my plans successfully and I’ll be more honest with you, only keeping the vow active until completion then I’ll… let you go,” he lied, his words sounding too good to be true but spoken smoothly enough for you to believe him, “sound good?”

“And if I don’t?” you asked, still not quite wanting to do something so serious.

“Then you can otherwise die, I don’t keep things around that are useless… or boring,” he replied as he laughed gently to himself, leaving you once again unsettled and tired from his demeanour.

You sighed once more, knowing that he knew just how much you wanted to live.

Feeling cornered by his proposal—the offer frustrated you.

“Fine,” you gritted reluctantly, at least considering it, “now what exactly am I agreeing to?”

“I’d like to keep you around under my control—let’s call it a puppet contract,” he explained as you hesitantly listened, “you’ll stay under the control of my strings and I’ll occasionally drop the cross for you to use your technique.”

“Wait, I won’t be able to use my own technique?” you asked, not liking the sound of the catch.

“It’s your biggest drain of energy,” he replied, having a genuine answer that wasn’t malicious for a change, “if I can control how you use your energy, then you won’t run into problems again.”

“And why would I agree to that?” you continued to prod.

“Because, I can teach you other ways of defending yourself, silly,” Kenjaku revealed, “you shouldn’t be fully relying on your technique anyway.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion as you stared at him. “But I'm a sorcerer?”

“Modern sorcerers are more about flashy combat styles and showing off their techniques,” he began to explain as his eyes widened for dramatic effect while he spoke, “but these things aren’t completely reliable, so I’ll teach you the fundamentals of close range combat.”

“Even in my state?” you warily asked.

His eyes flickered up and down before nodding, his lips parting with an already loaded answer, “Sorcerers who rely too much on their techniques are an easy target, you need to learn to at least block a close range attack.”

You sighed wearily again, already feeling exhausted the longer that this conversation unfolded. A stark contrast to his energetic self in comparison, seemingly getting a kick out of this whole discussion.

Kenjaku then closed the gap to your face with his own, enjoying the idea of bullying you into eventual submission, his voice suddenly low, “Besides, don’t you want to learn how to keep me off your back? If you don’t learn how to at least push me away, then I’ll just keep on teasing you forever.”

You pulled away from whatever that was and attempted to push him back. He let you, for now.

“Wouldn’t this slow you down?” you asked, attempting to further the distance between the two of you.

“You would only be doing so if you continue to avoid the subject,” he mocked slightly as he bridged the gap between the two of you, his fingers brushing around your face, “I wouldn’t want you to get knocked around by someone with more combat intelligence… unless it’s by me.”

You didn’t quite hear that last part that he mumbled, but you weren’t looking forward to anything he proposed to you regardless.

“So in order to keep you safe and more reliable for both yourself and me, I’d like to keep your technique on a leash and teach you something far more valuable instead,” he said as he drummed his fingers along your cheekbones, the action seeming slightly taunting yet endearing.

Once again, you felt conflict stir within you as you took the idea further into consideration, still not enjoying the idea of your technique remaining dormant, locked away in your body unless he had a say in it. The only appealing part was leading a somewhat normal existence, but in order to do so without your technique properly present, took a huge chunk of your identity away.

However, if it was all just temporary—then maybe it wasn’t actually so bad. You wanted to live normally beyond anything else, refusing to go back to a miserable existence of pure sickness and fatigue.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” you muttered.

“Then you’ve made the correct choice,” Kenjaku smiled as he continued to drift closer, fully aware that he wasn’t going to release you from the vow so easily because technically, his plans had no real end.

In fact, you would be stuck with him forever.

If only you truly knew what you just signed up for, though. He laughed to himself at the notion while you continued to stare at him in a confused manner.

However, in some ways, he couldn’t quite shake the thought that you were partially correct and were technically slowing down his plans due to his strange attachment towards you—ultimately otherwise concluding that as long as you continued to aid him in his success, that there was otherwise nothing truly slowing him down, after all.

So maybe this was all fine. It didn’t hurt to have a companion to bother as he pleased, knowing that you’d likely just listen against your will to whatever he subjected you to.

Besides, you were also easy on the eyes, so that much was a bonus.

After such an agreement, the days continued to pass you both by and your old dynamic was quickly soon reestablished, spending the days training with him just like before except now you also had the displeasure of learning how to fight with someone like him. Just as he wanted you to do so also, you found that you became embarrassingly reliant on him because he controlled just about every aspect about you.

Something that he secretly enjoyed a great deal.

So much that it wasn’t something that he could neither deny nor ignore anymore.

And so as the day finally concluded, you found yourself unintentionally falling asleep against his shoulder, leaning against his body without even realising that you were doing so. You were worn out from the training session and it was late, so you couldn’t help but snooze off. Kenjaku in response reluctantly accepted this, finding that he didn’t mind it a great deal.

In fact, it had been such a long time since he had experienced such innocent closeness that he almost missed it, feeling nostalgic for the sensation, even if it did feel different this time.

Curiosity took him over as he moved you slowly down onto his lap to admire the situation further, feeling quite odd about the whole thing. Initially, he chose to explore carefully, observing how the battery held up during sleep but then he started to feel more and more curious about certain things.

He watched you as you remained fast asleep and completely unaware of both what and who he truly was, not knowing that it was otherwise a miracle on his end that something in particular hadn’t happened sooner.

What was this feeling again?

Something a bit like lust, but dilated.

Even now, he chose to keep it contained, despite the mood suddenly feeling strangely different. He wasn’t one to feel regret or remorse for anything that he did in life, choosing to believe that a life well lived and experienced was from personal gain and yet, there was a faint hint of hesitation to continue.

Perhaps it was because you were his project, therefore an extension of his ideals. To keep you so readily compliant and willing to go through what he admittedly knew was a chaotic direction into the future felt like something he had to preserve in its current state.

His eyes once again drifted down and locked onto your sleeping form, the look that occupied his face utterly vacant as his eyes bored into you. Something however kindled in his coal black eyes as he moved his fingertips to trace against your face, seeming to enjoy having your life completely vulnerable and at the mercy of his own hands.

There it was. That was the problem. He spent a good amount of time investing his effort into you and he had the complete power to simply undo it all, just because he could. Regardless of how much your own life was left to yourself, he was the one who now ruled it and that filled him with a thrill beyond his comprehension.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he indulged after all. Your life was his now and he had the power to play with you as he liked.

You were lucky that he actually liked you, though. It could have been so much worse.

He continued to explore slowly, brushing his hands against your shoulders through to your back and around your waist, finding that he liked how it sat in his hands. His fingers wrapped around your side and squeezed firmly around it, as if trying to memorise every detail. Curiously, he felt around your ass next, squeezing his fingers around it and enjoying the feel of it.

His other hand proceeded to drift into his robe, gently parting the fabric and taking hold of his now excited length. He wouldn’t do anything just yet to you, instead choosing to simply test the waters of what he wanted.

Slowly, he stroked himself as he watched you continue to sleep against his lap, his other hand still brushing around your body as he continued to grow harder, realising that this particular feeling wasn’t going away.

He felt his cock grow completely fat in his hand and he quickly got increasingly comfortable as he adapted to a smooth motion in getting himself off. All the while he stared down at your unaware and fast asleep face as you did so, finding the sight of you being completely unaware to be strangely exciting.

He continued to pleasure himself as his breathing grew shaky and his legs tightened, continuing to stare you down, somewhat impressed that you didn’t awaken from the disturbance. The excitement felt almost painful as all remaining reason rushed along with his blood to his cock, making the session almost feel sore.

His eyes were relentless as they stared down at your sleeping form as his hand moved up and down his shaft, his breath shuddered as he got closer to pushing his limit.

His mind ran rampant with curiosity and wonder, imagining exactly how your slick warmth felt and just what sorts of noises you could make for him; his jaw clenching as he neared his end, shooting thick white ropes against his robes—seething a stifled groan to keep you perfectly unaware.

He’d have to wash those now, he sighed.

He dedicated his sights on you, the curiosity continuing to burn him away, distracting him from any other thought that he might have had. There was nothing more that he wanted other than to feel his skin mesh with yours, to push inside of you and to feel how you wrapped around him.

Maybe tomorrow he’d indulge in just that.

Knowing that such a feeling wouldn’t simply go away.

He would sleep on it for now though, momentarily leaving you alone on the bed to go and clean himself up. However, upon returning, he once again decided to share the bed with you and the feeling returned.

He stared at you as he laid near your side.

Knowing that nothing at all could possibly help or save you now. He was simply in too deep with his own wants and needs to back out now.

If only you knew what awaited you the next day, though.

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proshippers-against-censorship · 3 days

Note

I have these 2 OCs that are brocon (while it is portrayed as bad in the story, I still draw cute non-canon art of them sometimes cuz I love them lol), and my anti friends unsurprisingly have an issue with this, but I always tore down their arguments and explain why it isn't an issue. So, with these 2, one friend in particular (who we'll call K) decided that since she can't use the classic "fiction is reality!! you support incest!!" argument, she decided to instead complain that the characters were Jewish and I was thus disrespecting the religion

I am...Jewish? Why would I disrespect my own religion in my OC's 😭 Also, I contradict religion a lot in my stories lol. One of the characters is a Christian cannibal (which, while I don't know a whole lot about Christianity, I'm sure that's a sin for them lmfao), along with all of my other OC's who are religious yet are also murderers, terrorists, etc, and she seemed to not have an issue with that.

So, I explain K's hypocrisy to her (and how I'm sure literally no other Jewish person would be offended, nor care), she insisted I was just being antisemitic. Keep in mind 3 things with this:

1.) She is not Jewish, she worships Islam, so idk why she's policing me on what I do with my own beliefs and acting like she is an expert on it (I had to explain to her what a Synagogue was, so clearly she doesn't know much)

2.) She was super antisemitic??? K literally banned me from speaking about Judaism in any form in her old server because "it made people uncomfortable" (nobody except her cared)... but then let a legitimate Neo-Nazi stay in the server and just told me to "ignore him" as he would legit send propaganda in the chat

3.) She would contradict religion in her stories, too??? She never once drew her canonically-Islam characters with properly-modest clothes or hijabs (even going as far as drawing some of her characters in literal bikinis lmfao???), and when I would ask about this, she would say "It is fiction, so I have creative freedom, and I change the rules"... which like, yeah this is true, but why is it okay for you to do it and not me

So, as usual, antis stretching so far to find any reason to call you a freak, and once again being hypocritical. Good thing she is an ex-friend now.

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

TL;DR of the whole situation:

"It is fiction, so I have creative freedom with worldbuilding, so therefore my characters don't need to necessarily abide by the rules of the religion I canonically made them worship. WTF???? YOU CAN'T DRAW THE JEW BROTHERS KISSING NOOOO THAT'S BAD BECAUSE YOU'RE DISRESPECTING OTHER JEWS!!! Oh btw there is a self-proclaimed Nazi in my server, no I will not ban him for harassing you, but I will ban you for mentioning Hanukkah, I'm not antisemitic though!!" -K, my anti ex-friend, for some reason

She sounds like a hypocritical bitch, it's a good thing you distanced yourself from her 😬😬😬

#proshippers against censorship #jackal barks #proship please interact #proshippers please interact #proship positivity #proship #proshipper safe #proshipping #proshipper #anti anti #pro stance #ask #asks

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crazyfor-toby · 2 days

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Summary :: regular hcs for Ticci Toby

Notes :: hahaha😝 Ikik I'm finally back!!

Warnings :: none that I know of

Readers gender :: no reader in this(?)

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This hoe is crazy asf man good luck😭 because you're gonna need it if you come across this guy... especially older him

Even if he doesn't remember a lot of stuff from his past the trauma he went through stuck with him through everything and a lot of people still use that against him.

ok... so ik that canonically he doesn't know Masky or Hoodie but... I'm going against that for these head canons and even go against my personal head canons as well because... Idk

Masky tends to bring up his past a lot on purpose just to get this reaction out of him because he's and asshole and even goes out of his way to call him “Mr. Rogers”, “Toby Rogers”, or “Ticci Toby”

Toby(for obvious reasons) has ditched his last name and everything else that connects him to his past, the only thing that he carried into his new life is his first name and no. HE DOES NOT GO BY TICCI TOBY! He hates being called that because that's what he was called by a kid by his bullies... which bullied him so bad he had to be homeschooled

I can’t really see Toby making friends with people in the manor either but instead being more of acquaintances with everyone while also being very passive aggressive towards every being he interacts with.

When Toby first joined the manor though, he did have an on and off relationship with Natalie which left him even more messed up than before and now he has relationship issues as well

Toby tends to have a lot of stuff in his hair all the time (blood, leaves, etc.) and if we’re being honest, he probably doesn’t shower- jkjk he showers every time he gets the chance, though that's only really when he's at a victim's house and has time to spare.

He also doesn’t eat much due to being out in the woods all the time for Slenderman so the best thing he gets is also stuff he takes from his victim's house...

After killing someone they kind of just make themselves at home and catch up on everything they need to while taking some stuff with them to go.

Also, he's a STALKER. Not even intentionally at times but it's something he's taken with him from his very... unusual job...

He's got a midwestern style going on and has probably tried to pierce his ears and a bunch of other things before but it ended up getting infected.

He actually tries to take care of the cuts he gets on missions and his gash because when he was younger, his mom used to freak out about the littlest of things and when he'd get a cut or anything his mom would say if he didn't take care of it, it would get infected and fall off. And now he takes that to heart even if he didn't when he was younger and getting hurt all the time.

But his habits just don't let his gash heal properly and he continues to chew at it, never giving it time to heal.

But, speaking of getting hurt. He used to get hurt A LOT when he was younger but now, he doesn't. Because after coming back from missions hurt almost every time due to him being reckless everyone started refusing to help patch him up... So now he knows how to be more careful and take care of wounds!

But yeah... that's the end of these head canons lol I might make some more for this silly guy later on though

#creepypasta #ticci toby #toby rogers creepypasta #ticci toby creepypasta #ticci toby headcanons #ticcy toby #tobias erin rogers #toby rogers #toby erin rogers #tobias rogers #“ticci” toby rogers #toby creepypasta #creepypasta toby #creepypasta headcanon #ticci toby hc #toby rogers headcanons

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aliceisathome · 3 days

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Time for My Stand In - I'm ready with things nearby to grab depending on how traumatised/angry/sad I am. Currently we have a G&T, some chocolate, a punchable stuffie and some ice cream within reach. There's tequila in the kitchen if none of these work.

So here we are, new house and helper for mum to be paid for by spending a year doing whatever Ming demands, which is immediately sex of course. But Joe doesn't realise that Ming's concentrating on his back not because he's trying to replace Tong now, but because he's trying to replace Joe. Joe's a stand in for himself the poor sod.

It's interesting that Ming can't bring himself to have sex with New Joe though. It's guilt, yes, but also because he never really had sex with Old Joe - in his mind he was always having sex with Tong . In trying to get New Joe to stand in gor Old Joe, sex isn't going to work - what he misses and loved is , well, JOE. it's the companionship, the cooking together, sleeping together and just being together. It's the lights on when you get home and the smell of cooking. Does the spoilt, manipulated prince realise that yet? He might be getting a clue this episode though.

Also my brain hurts

I like Ming's green bedding. In fact I like all the green teal in his condo - the man's got good taste in furnishings if nothing else. Did he get them to redecorate his hotel room to match? Wouldn't surprise me - he's the sort of person who'd put that in his rider. I must go and see what @respectthepetty says about the colours in this.

So - Ming isn't going to realise that New Joe is Old Joe because he thinks OG Joe is still alive but he's suspicous. It could be that Ming won't let go of the fantasy that old Joe will come back to him until they find the body* Wut might guess soon though. And Sol, if Ming hasn't ripped his head off after he sees the music vid.**

OH they pretended that Tong did his own stunts for that first movie in all the press. OK, I get why Ming didn't put two and two together now.

Enter the bastard Tong. Man, he's a piece of work - jealous of Ming paying attention to another man (AGAIN) plus now he wants money from him as well. Don't do it Ming! Loved that he was too distracted by Tharn & Joe to listen properly. Still, I think he's beginning to see through Tong - especially when he won't acknowledge his culpability in Old Joe's death/disappearance. Loved his slightly weary dismissal of him as well.

Tharn - nope. Don't like him one little bit. He can join Tong in the Pit of Despair. They are both manipulative bastards.

All the flashbacks made me sad, especially the watch. And now I'm feeling sorry for Ming even though he's been a bastard and a fool because, well, he was twisted into that by Tong.

Gah - I can't wait for next Friday. The preview implies that the psychic might let Ming know that Joe's soul is in a new body but I think it's Sol's voice at the end. I don't think Ming knows enough to stake out Old Joe's parent's graves. This is why I try to save to binge watch.

Anyhow, the stuffie took some damage points whenever Tong or Tharn were on screen and the gin is gone. Could be worse, and I'm sure it will be at some point. This bloody show has me in its grip.

*I get it Ming, I hope his comatose body is being looked after and worshipped by jungle creatures and he'll get it back. Mainly because Poom's SO cute.

**for the love of the sweet baby jeebus if you're going to cast someone as a Kpop star at least get someone who can sing or use someone else's voice.

#thai bl #asianlgbtqdramas #bl drama #My Stand In #JoeMing #MingJoe #JoeMingJoe #I want Tong to BURN and take Tharn with him #Up Poompat #Poom Phuripan #I'm losing track of who's standing in for who now #My Stand In ep 7 #The Princess Bride

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onlylove4louis · 3 days

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So Armands backstory reveal, and the discussion/comparison to Lestats previous peak into his own... More in regards to why it happened, and how Louis'/DremStat subconscious reacted to it, etc...

This is one of the things that I've been wanting to post about, but I just don't have a solid enough grasp on my own understanding and perception of it. But then I came across this post, by/from @loustat-0 :

That helped me sort of uniform my thoughts on it a bit more, and I didn't want to hijack that post, so I figured I'd just make my own 👌🏽

@loustat-0 please let me know if you're not okay with me linking you're post here, or your post being associated with mine via reblogging or commenting. As I am not able to properly use or access my messages and can't seem to comment on literally any post I come across, I didn't really have a way to respectfully ask for permission first. And if you don't want it publicized either way, you may be able to send an 'ask' my way. And I won't post that, but just a way for you to privately communicate, if you need/want.

Now, to this scene:

With a quick input about this part of it:

While the bulk of it will be the parallel/comparison, to this scene/moment:

Now, I will say right up front, the point of this post is not directly about either backstory... as both of their pasts and past traumas trigger me rather bad, I will not be discussing specifics about that. All I will say about either is they're both being honest, both backstories are true, but both have been clearly adapted ever so slightly for reasons that will be made clear later. But it can be assumed to be changed just to better fit with the adapted characters, and the adapted story being told here. Now, lets dig in...

First, I want to talk about what I personally understand of the 'why's of both, as in why they each individually divested this painful part of themselves, and exposed these particular wounds. What they hoped to gain, and/or may have used/utilized it for. Primarily because I think it's the core to helping you understand why Louis reacted to and handled it the way he did. And why DreamStat essentially barked at it 😅

I almost fully agree with what was discussed and answered in the link above, especially the part about Lestat being "forced" to give that part of himself in that moment, vs Armand "offering" it himself. And why that effected how Louis perceived it, but I wanted to reiterate certain things from my own perception of it...

So with Lestat, I do think he still had the choice and made the choice to reveal that part of him/his past. So while I don't think using the word "forced" is wrong, I just see it more as; both Louis and Claudia needed this thing from him, and he realized that in order to basically be allowed back in (to his physical home, to his family, but especially into Louis' heart) he knew he had to give this 'thing'. I believe it does need to be understood that this is a very VERY traumatizing thing for Lestat, this is something that he deals with CPTSD from, etc. for the entirety of the Chronicles. So it's something that he himself would not have just offered. Because he does not like to think about it, remember it, give voice or space to it at all, even acknowledge how badly it did/does effect him. But that also does not change the fact that he did very much use it as a means to gain understanding from Louis, via compassion, sympathy and empathy. Simply meaning he did utilize a painful truth in order to get him access back into Louis' very gentle, human heart.

Which is what I believe Armand did as well. But the differences, in the circumstances and how it happened, are why it just didn't get the same reaction/response from Louis. And it's also because of this previous moment with Lestat, that Armands attempt simply wasn't as effective.

So with Armand, the sheer difference is (I believe), other than Armand himself offering it without being asked, is; I genuinely believe Armand did in fact go into it, in order to actively garner the compassion and sympathy from Louis... Think of it this way, as a kid you would have to go on errands with your parents (usually mom), not wanting to, but knowing that there's a chance you MAY get ice-cream. Or McDonalds, if you do. Ultimately making it worth it... Versus, knowing for a fact that you will get it, so you proactively agree to go, or even ask to go, in order to get those things.

-- I don't know if that's a great analogy, but hopefully it helped some understand what I'm trying to say.

And I think that's what made the most difference between the two, in how if effected Louis. From Lestat, it was a moment of reluctant vulnerability. Humanizing himself, for Louis specifically, and allowing Louis a chance to have a closer look in order to get a better understanding, of what makes Lestat the way he is. Which in turn bonded Louis closer to him. For Armand, it instead felt like... and this is going to come out harsh, I apologize in advance... but it felt like a manipulation tactic. 'Let me tell you this sad story so that you will feel bad for me, and stop being mad at me for doing multiple things that have upset you.' Both were clearly utilized in manipulation of Louis' empathic nature, but only one was so overt that it made it hard for Louis to look past the manipulative nature of it. Combined with the first time leaving Louis untrusting and more paranoid about it being done again. Specifically because of how much he "allowed" it to affect him the first time (with Lestat). It made him alot less willing to allow that again, and made him alot less susceptible to that particular style of manipulation. Simply put, he's been so manipulated in the past, that he's jaded now and not as open or vulnerable to it as he was before.

-> I want to interject right here real quick before continuing, because I have come across and am aware that some people think and have pointed out/posted about that they feel Claudias Bruce reveal, was the same thing. And while I do understand why they may think that, and why they may have perceived it like that. I personally don't actually agree. And it's why I'm not also using that moment as an example of past manipulations, that have worked on Louis. Now I'm not saying that Claudia has not manipulated Louis in the past, because she definitely has. I just don't see that moment as one of them. And I definitely don't want this post to become a discussion about that.

Now, moving right on... Before we talk about HalluciStats "HA!" bark, and what I think that was all about, I want to get to the surrounding circumstances:

So it can't be denied (although some clearly keep trying) that Louis has been keeping Armand at an arms length. He's actively not allowing Armand to get too close to him, he's not letting Armand in. And for good reason. But it's very clear that Armand is really struggling with it. He's struggling with essentially finding ways to climb over Louis' walls. He's actively pressuring Louis STILL, to if not join the coven then at least to make more of an effort to "belong". Which does include using the fact that he knows and is keeping their "secret" (we all know what else that alluded to/implied) as a means to manipulate Louis into coming around the coven more. Which is really just coming around him more... And then he's also treating Claudia in multiple ways that Louis is very much not okay with (again, regardless of what some go out of their way to "erase"), and flexing his powers in ways that's are only reminding Louis of Lestat (derogatory).

I am not going to go into, the parallel made to abusive relationships that happens here, and that particular type of manipulation tactic used by abusive people. Because again, triggering. But I point all of this out, to point out the circumstances that put Armand in a place of wanting and needing to both placate Louis, defend himself, but mainly to get back on Louis' good graces. As well as attempt once again to get Louis 'closer' to him, to get him to open up more. Basically a, maybe if I allow myself to be vulnerable to you if I show you a vulnerability, you will in turn trust me enough to let down your guard to/around me.

Now it also can't be ignored, that one of the things that Louis is impressing on Armand here as well, and has been. Is that he actively wants and needs Armand to show him some of who he truly is. He wants to see some of the real Armand. Some of what's behind/underneath the Coven Master, hat. And just like Lestat, Armand understands that this is something that he needs to give to Louis, in order to get what he wants, from Louis. He needs to give some of his real self, in order to be allowed in.

But all of this, combined with the fact that Armand took Louis here, to this museum, with a specific purpose. Which means most likely, it's clear to Louis that this is not happening organically. He did not just happen to reveal his backstory because the moment called for it, or they happened to stumble upon, the moment. But instead it's been planned ahead of time, which falls too close to being orchestrated. In order to get a specific result. Which would make sense as to why Louis would already be on his guard, and untrusting, and skeptical of Armand and this entire thing. And would also make sense as to why he'd be weary of the manipulation in it, rather than anything else. Thinking 'why are you telling me this/what's the real reason behind it', rather than simply reacting to what is being revealed.

And finally, why I had to be jump-scared ass early in the morning, by Sam Reid barking on my screen. Because ya'll, on the first initial watch, and the 2nd to be honest, I was so caught up and stuck trying to emotionally survive Armand bearing his mangled, brutalized soul. And almost getting lost in his trauma, that I wasn't even paying attention to Loustat in the background, until the "HAA!!". And I just about

It took me two re-watches to really pay attention to Lestat back there. And what I can tell, is that while he's clearly manifesting Louis' unconscious mind being very skeptical of the whole story, essentially 'are you believing this, really?!' type of energy. Very reminiscent of how Claudia reacted to Lestats backstory reveal. She didn't believe a single part of it, because all she could see was the manipulation in it (lets not forget, just because that's what she saw doesn't mean that's what it was, or at least "all" that it was. It's simply just an individual perception). But you can tell, that DreamStat doesn't actually start getting legitimately angry, and defensive by how he's crossing his arms so tightly... Until Armand mentions Magnus. As in it's not the whole story itself, it's instead that particular part of it.

Because what Armand does there, is casually lump Lestat in with Magnus, and the implication is that what Lestat did to Louis, how he turned him, was in any way similar to what Magnus did to Lestat (which I'll say right now, very much was not). That's what he was reacting to, and that's what he (aka Louis) completely rejected. Which I think, unfortunately also drastically than decreased the effectiveness of the entire thing. What I mean by that is, if a part of what you're telling someone, no matter how sincere and honest it may be. If even a small part of it garners or causes a negative reaction like that, then they're much more likely to reject the entirety of what you're saying. So I personally think that's more where Armand failed here, than anything else. He doesn't seem to be able to not bring Lestat into it, if I'm being honest it's almost like he can't help it.

It's like him in present day Dubai, feeling the need to say "Forty-seven more than he did with Lestat" 🤣 Because the point was, to get Daniel to stop comparing and contrasting Loumands relationship with Loustats. But in saying that, Armand himself directed it right back there anyways🤦🏽‍♀️👌🏽

I don't know if there was actually intention behind it, but in mentioning Magnus at all, and then the "conception" of Louis via Lestat... two things he has no business speaking on. He inadvertently diminished everything that came before it. At least in Louis' mind.

But phew, I think that's it. I'll end it here. If you made it this far, thanks for reading 🙌🏽

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #iwtv amc #iwtv s2 #louis de pointe du lac #armand iwtv #Loumand #fan discussion #Louis is an easy target for manipulation and gets manipulated by EVERYONE... so it only makes sense he'd start growing some armor #and learn from past experience

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