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choicesmonthlychallenge · 2 months

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Choices March Challenge 2024

I asked and you answered. It seems like flowers and spring are prompts you are interested in for the March Challenge!

I hope you enjoy the prompts I chose. There is a mix of flowers, spring related words, March holidays, dialogue prompts, and visual floral prompts. I also posted some floral dividers that you're welcome to use.

Have Fun + Happy Creating!

Prompts + Guidelines below the cut!

Flowers (these are some possibilities, but all flowers are accepted)

Bleeding Heart Flower

Carnation

Chrysanthemum

Coneflower

Corpse Flower

Daffodil

Daisy

Gladiolus

Hydrangea

Iris

Jade Vine

Lavender

Lilac

Lily

Marigold

Moonflower

Nightshade

Orchid

Pansy

Peony

Poppy

Rose

Snapdragon

Sunflower

Tulip

Wildflowers

Spring

Awakening

Baby animals

Butterflies

Clear skies

Daylight saving

Fresh air

Growth

New Life

Outdoor activities + sports

Picnics

Rain boots

Rainy days

Renewal

Spring cleaning

Sunny weather

Warm temperatures

Longer days

Umbrella

March Holidays (these are some possibilities, but all March Holidays are accepted)

March 01: National Peanut Butter Lover's Day

March 08: International Women's Day

March 09: National Barbie Day + Get over it Day

March 11: National Napping Day

March 15: The Ides of March

March 16: National Panda Day

March 17: St. Patrick's Day

March 18: Awkward Moments Day

March19: First day of spring

March 23: National Puppy Day

March 30: National Take a Walk in the Park Day + Doctors' Day

March 31: Easter

Dialogue Prompts

"The flowers in the park seem to have a secret language, don't they?"

"Why does every spring bring back memories of that garden?"

"I can't believe you kept that secret from me all these years."

"Why do you always have to be so stubborn?"

"I never thought I'd see you again."

"Do you believe in second chances?"

"I thought we were in this together."

"You're not the person I thought you were."

"Sometimes silence speaks louder than words."

"Is it too late to start over?"

"I don't know who I am anymore."

"We're running out of time."

"Why are you really here?"

"Your laughter is my favorite melody."

"If our love story were a book, every page would be filled with the softest words and the sweetest kisses. What chapter are we on now?"

“Will you please shut up”

“Of all the things i love about you, this is my favorite.”

Visual Prompts:

If one of these inspire a creative work from you feel free to use it. You can list the prompt topic + # (ie: Rainbow 3)

Guidelines + Rules

Submitted works will be featured on a weekly masterlist

Every form of creative work can be submitted: fanfiction, drabbles, moodboards, edits, drawings, poems, songs, sketches, and more—all are welcomed.

Work from any book and story from the Choices (and Pixelberry) universe are welcome (new and old alike)!

You can participate as many times as you want during the month

Clearly list the prompt your used

You can combine submissions for this event and others

Please add a cut to avoid long posts and exposing other fans to triggering/disturbing content.

If your work is NS*W please label it as such and use appropriate warnings. Adult content should be hidden under the page break.

You can get creative with the prompts. It can be a variation of the word and/or concept. It doesn’t have to be exact or literal. If the word inspires a train of thought that led you to something different, put that in the notes and send it in! Have fun with it! Make them work for you! The ultimate goal is just to find joy in creating!

Please tag @choicesmonthlychallenge and if you’d like to add me you can do so as well~ @lovealexhunt (feel free to DM me your work too since Tumblr tags are fickle)

Please do not submit work that has been created with AI. Works that contain AI will not be reblogged. If reblogged inadvertently and I find out they have AI, they will be deleted.

Late entries will be accepted through April 5

#choices #choices game #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices monthly challenge #choices march challenge #choices march challenge 2024 #choices monthly challenge 2024 #march2024

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inlocusmads · 2 months

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"mama, didn't mean to make you cry" ~ trystan thorne, viktoria thorne

Before Trystan leaves for a second time, (this time willingly), he must have a difficult conversation with his mother. (Crimes of passion)

wc: 3k, no warnings but mentions of toxic parental relationships involved.

A/N: Yes the title references Bohemian Rhapsody, which I hc is Trystan's favourite song that resonates with him the most. Well. Now you know why. Written for @choicesmonthlychallenge - prompt: "cyclamen flower" which symbolises resignation.

Banner art: In the Garden by Denis Sarazhin

Trystan stepped into the large balcony, tucking his phone in with an email for the next day's charter flight back to New York. His mother had a flute of wine - a glass made of the most verdant material possible, studded with dripping diamonds and golds. She took a small sip in between her nightly watch - fixated on the spot in the sky where the sun had set.

“I am leaving tomorrow.” he spoke in Drakovian.

His mother didn't respond. She took another careful sip, but her silence beckoned Trystan to join her.

“Your father is very disappointed.” Mother said, after a break of silence. “But - he seems to understand. He thinks your American education has made you more jaded than usual, but he hopes when the time comes you will understand.”

“Is that what Father said or is it what you want him to say?” Trystan asked.

“He has been quiet but do not take his silence as acceptance.”

“Are you implying that I might change my mind one day?” Trystan asked.

“One hopes that their children will also yearn and fight for the throne as they have, in the past. But times are changing. The future is, as embarrassing as it is for me to say, uncertain and your sister cannot bear the precarious throne all alone. One day she will need her family and I hope she can count on you to not run away from your responsibilities.”

“I'm not going anywhere, Majka.”

“Don't give me promises you cannot keep, Trystan.”

Another sip of wine. Mother looked concerned. She had stress marks all over her eyes, from the days of sleep deprivation. She refused to show any sign of vulnerability, fearing her son might capture onto that to draw it out even more, like an expert weaver. Viktoria Thorne could hold up the skies and pick out the lies simultaneously, but she would break at the mere mention of her son showing her empathy and kindness. She didn't allow herself to crumble at his feet, to beg him to stay and let them move on as a family. There was no family to begin with.

“I won't. I'll come back home one day.”

“How is New York?”

“Well.”

“I hear you have new companions.”

“They are fine.”

“Refreshing I see, to engage with regular people. You must be tired of politics.”

“I think I am more honest with them.”

“Than your own family?” Mother expressed prudent surprise.

“I believe so, yes.”

“You must have a tarnished opinion of us.” Viktoria took generous sips of her wine. “Had you shared it with us earlier, it would have stopped all of this.”

“How could it have stopped all of this?” Trystan raised his voice immediately. “People still died, Mother. People -- good people were -- I cannot believe you would insinuate that my doubt is so large that it could have single-handedly predicted what Vasili would have done. Am I not allowed to have faith in us?”

“That is where the problem started, Trystan. You cannot pick and choose what you like and avoid the others. Had you expressed your doubts more clearly, we would have been able to forestall all these terrible happenings. Your jaded faith mixed in with your disloyalty birthed this tightrope dance we are all caught up in. And now -- it is easier to leave it behind, is it not?”

“Mother, if you think this is my fault, you are wrong.”

“Eight years in America rid you of all your responsibility. God knows if you will ever come home.” Viktoria sighed deeply, clutching the railing of the balcony to compose herself.

“Do not use my loyalty as a weapon.”

“Nobody is perfect, Trystan. It is you who sees everything in black and white. Perhaps if you had attempted to understand Juliana better - outside of your pre-marital squabbling, maybe we would have gotten somewhere. But, now isn't the time to look back.”

“Are you saying this is all my fault?”

“No. I didn't say you were an accomplice, did I? It is just that--” Viktoria took a deep breath, “It is always difficult with you, Trystan. Difficult and different. Perhaps it was me. You were my first, you see? A favorite. Unfortunately, it didn't work out so well. Might as well make some progress with the others had I given them a chance. Now nobody will talk to me. It is sad.”

“Lydea does.”

“She doesn't. A right-hand man, they all say.” Viktoria shrugged. “You have been gone for far too long and yet, I found it in my heart to favor you anyway.”

“The sham trial you organized did not do it justice.”

“It was a way to bring you home. I had no intention of hearing anything from the Georgescu family. It was merely a litmus test to see how many people favor you as I do. Clearly, not many. Jean Luc Everheart was a plant. A seed in a bigger operation and his nonchalance to making a strong case for you only heightened my theory. And yet -- you had to come home with so much faith in your heart while using the same tongue to condemn your family in front of the Americans.”

“They were my friends, Mother.” Trystan snapped. “And they had little to no larger role in the kind of faith I have in my heart as you so falsely imply.”

“Right, which is why you are in such a hurry to go home tomorrow?”

“New York.” He corrected her.

“Home. To you. Not a problem. I am not going to question your decisions.”

A pause.

“Detectives are seldom trustworthy creatures.” Viktoria began. “Let me explain. Someone with no nuanced understanding of a place, assuming a position of some sort of an advisor is -- appalling. I have nothing but her heritage to blame. The American dream cultivates so much hope and faith and this righteousness that your word cannot be challenged. Naturally, such confidence will make you fall prey to any school of thought. Your father was one such sentient being, with an education from Harvard. Prestigious school. I learned to never see Maksim the same way twice.”

“Are you saying that somehow Nora influenced my decision?”

“Doesn't a cat run to a patch of catnip? A moth to a flame?”

“A mother to a lost childhood?” Trystan added.

“You don't get to speak now.”

“Strange. I thought you favored me.”

“You’re more different than the one I raised.” Viktoria shook her head. “It was difficult, Trystan. Those years of your absence. I knew you could not be involved in Juliana's death. You couldn't have. The Trystan I raised would never allow for this to happen, no matter how careless and charismatic he might appear. It is saddening but what else can I do, but wait? What else could I have done?”

“I haven't changed, Majka.”

“So you tell me, Trystan.” Mother sighed, exasperated. “Those eight years -- I will never be able to scrub them away from history. Your father was of no help. The family was torn apart without your presence. I thought when I first had you, you would be a unifying idea. A goal. Now when I think about that time, it makes me want to scold myself for being so naive. They say it's important to look towards the future, but I don't know how far I can run without looking back once or twice. I cannot run alone.”

“I am here, Mama.” Trystan placed a hand on his mother's palm. “You know I am not going anywhere. I might have made a -- difficult choice, but I promise this isn't a withdrawal from the family. It is what I consider best for me. Best for us. Lydea had eight years - just eight to make Drakovia’s progress chart a linear course upwards. Imagine the time she will have now.”

Viktoria ignored his words of hope. Trystan's encouragement fell on deaf ears.

“You will always be my favorite, Trystan. I hope you know that.”

“I'm still leaving Mama.” Trystan swallowed with great difficulty, almost struck with disbelief that it was his words that supplied a hard truth and he could no longer take it back.

He could no longer afford to have regrets about his abdication, no longer could afford to be a human being who could look at it without the black and white filter. Who couldn't afford to pledge loyalty to his roots whilst critiquing the empire it had cultivated. Every word in Drakovian that he enunciated from the depths of his throat felt like his first foray into the English language upon setting foot in North American soil eight years ago.

“One day I might tell you about the plans I had for the country -- our family, had you expressed an interest in us. But - it is too soon now. I must let you grieve.”

“You don't have to be so understanding, Mama.” Trystan replied. “I don't think any of us are expecting you to offer sympathy, when we should be doing that to you.”

“No. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. My pessimism is not an excuse for you to take a somber feeling of disapproval back home. Your father wants the best for your future, regardless of where he sees you practicing it. I would know better than to defy his wishes.”

“I don't think Father has a plan.” Trystan confided.

“Hm?”

“Might be speculation, but -- I doubt he has a plan for the future. Something to leave us with. I could be wrong-”

“Yes. Yes you are.” Viktoria retorted immediately, squashing the lingering seed of doubt that her son might otherwise take back, only to cultivate it in the Land of Further Questions. “You are not the heir anymore. I assure you, the country is in safe hands. You said so yourself. Must you concern yourself with these matters now, given you have a cushy life waiting back at home?”

“No, I have a responsibility -- I-- You told me to!”

“I'm disappointed, Trystan. I thought you would have grasped your place in this now. It's remarkable how your previous choices have clouded you in this sea of comfort. It's complicated to answer your questions and downright insulting when you think this is how you show concern. To speculate wildly about your family and carry all the wrong assumptions home and make a fool out of everyone who has carried this country as their responsibility!”

“I don't think you can tell the difference between the country and our family anymore.”

“Strange. I think you ought to review your definitions. It would give your stuffy mind more questions to occupy with than questioning the legitimacy of our legislature.” Viktoria snarled. “Perhaps then, would you have left earlier?”

“My departure has nothing to do with the current political climate of Drakovia.”

“Of course. Perhaps you are leaving for love, then. What a privilege you have, my son. To love. To forge a new path for yourself, selfishly while everyone else burns the midnight oil. What a privilege it is to simply walk away, in the name of love out of all things.”

“If you want me to stay, I can stay.” Trystan grabbed his phone.

“You came to talk to me. You approached me with the question.” Viktoria shrugged, setting her empty glass down. She gingerly removed her rings, placing them on a tall table, preparing to go to sleep. “And yet you question your father's insecurity in his decision-making. Trystan, you have turned into a fool. You know only I am capable of telling you this, because I want the best for you. Give me a reason to favor you.”

“You're my mother. Not God.”

“Perhaps you need to review that as well.” Viktoria sat down on the plush velvet couch, watching her son obscuring the view of the horizon. “I am merely admiring the benefits you have. Is “selfish” not an appropriate word, these days? Can't I offer an opinion without being accused of playing God?”

“I'm always going to disappoint you, aren't I?”

“You always disappoint the ones you love.”

Viktoria seldom was a woman of generalization. Trystan knew it was a recurrent problem with him and his mother had just supplied him with a word of caution. Perhaps he should count his days before he could disappoint more people. Sleep with an eye open as she did. If it was so easy to let his mother down - the woman who raised him, who watched him fail at everything his hands could touch, who saw and did nothing yet hope and hope in utter silence, with mere faith in her heart that contributed to the rot the family could never move past from - then how long would it take for him to carry on and on, before he could disappoint Nora?

“You think too much.” Viktoria observed. “At least, perhaps when you come back one day - from your little pilgrimage to the West, you might realize things aren't so black and white -- now don't be so angry, dear. You are only proving my point even further.”

“Which is?”

“You know you can only show your anger here. To me. Can you do the same back at home? Can you offer your frustrations and be considered an honest voice?”

Trystan thought for a while. “Yes.”

“You're lying to yourself.”

Viktoria stood up, placing a hand on her son's shoulder. “There is a place for you here. Whatever you say or do, someone will clean it up. That's what parents do. A parent. A somebody. It is unlikely you will ever want children of your own. Then again, I suppose your dog is easier to take care of.”

Trystan's heart leaped to his throat. He freed himself of his mother’s hand, dismay etched on his face.

“I'm leaving. If you have some decency left in you, you would want to say goodbye at the airport.”

“But I don't, according to you. I am part of something unpleasant you would most likely want to forget.” Viktoria said, bluntly. “It must be easier for your Nora. A traumatic past is easier to forget than a model, golden upbringing that derailed a few many years ago.”

“Don't bring Nora into this.”

“I don't want you to lie to yourself, Trystan. It means I have failed as a mother. Everything I did, I did for you.”

Viktoria picked up one of the rings she'd carefully assembled on her table. The gemstone was a deep rich color - that of the cyclamen flower. Many had misconstrued it with that of a pale rose, but it was Mother who had sat Trystan down to tell him the differences one carefree afternoon. The cuts were deep, intricate, precious - the simplicity contained within the band, rather than the additional carvings royal pieces of jewelry were usually commissioned to.

“Keep this as a token of memorabilia. I would like for you to hold onto this and let it be there with you when you experience a change of heart.”

“You say that with a concerning amount of certainty.”

“It would be cruel of me to expect you will simply let me die alone.” Viktoria chuckled. “Go. Tell me when your plane lands tomorrow.”

She dropped the ring into his palm.

“And close the door when you leave.” she added. “Goodbye. I hope this satisfies your need for a send-off.”

“Thank you.”

As Trystan carried the ring downstairs to the inner sanctum of the palace, he searched for a sign of his friends. Nora would have been given a different room for accomodation or perhaps, had already left for New York on a different plane. He sent off a quick message to one of the palace staff to ensure the luggage was on board for tomorrow and one to Nora - hopefully she was still awake. He crossed the threshold of the court, the Drakovian throne sitting prominently in the middle - clean and polished in its entirety.

The throne drew him in. He felt the plush velvet cushion, the gold and silver - the seat that his father, his great grandfather and his many ancestors had once sat on before the throne was permanently retired; given a symbolic position as the permanent cycle of ascension. The throne represented a martyr, placed upon a land to pay homage to the ones that died for the land to prosper. Refusing it would be criminal. Refusing it would fracture him with a wound enough to have the damning curse of all of his ancestors on him. Refusing it as a result of a series of sinful acts, despite his indirect involvement would be an insult. Then again, refusing it in its entirety erased him from the country's history. Poets would stop writing in his name. His gravestone that his family had selected long before his generation would lose all meaning, thereby scrubbing him entirely of his existence.

Trystan Thorne would no longer exist the moment he got on the plane. His Mother was right. He would be nothing without the Family. His window for a second chance had long been shut off and now the space he had once occupied - the bedrooms with their drawings embedded into the wallpapers, the kitchens echoing the loud sounds of a prince who had merely wanted to help, a court with a podium; the acoustics a reminder of the most powerful speeches from the lungs of a child. All would be lost. And for what? For hope? For a new path? For love?

Viktoria was correct to question it.

And yet Trystan didn't have an answer except the angry drawings in the bedrooms that reflected a past he'd wished to bury within the walls. Except the kitchens and their clutter, the fear of expressing discontentment knowing that he was edging closer to the hot stove with every passing question. Except the lungs of a child that had once provided a country with eclectic hope was also the first to disagree with it; to look back at the words and despise it for what it had become.

Trystan placed his mother's ring on the seat of the throne. I refuse, I refuse, I refuse.

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A/N: this is my attempt to make some reasoning out of why Viktoria was the dicey character she was, because she was I guess, a lot more involved in Book 2 as a parent figure to Trystan? There was a lot more there. I just wish canon did something about it and put these things to rest but eh, should know it by now PB actively kills sequels.

Also yes I've been working on this for a WHILE now lmao. This was a concept in my head for a long time and it didn't see anything past the outline. Eventually I figured out how to knit in the symbolism and I don't know if you've noticed the subtle switch in how Viktoria is addressed. In the moments she offers genuine concern - or Trystan thinks she is, she's highlighted as a Mother. Where she supremely feels like a mother, she's addressed as "Mama" or "Majka" and in the moments she's well, not being a good parent, she's plain old Viktoria. I love adding little bits of symbolism in my writing! If you caught that, here's a cookie 🍪

I'm so SO glad this is out because this is just the biggest fic I had problems writing. Finally I can retire the angst train and move onto some other pursuits lmaoooo.

Thank you for reading if you've reached this far. I'm eternally grateful for you guys, because I doubt I'd have kept this interest far if not for the encouragement. Life has been pretty sucky lately and I hope some frequent writing might rectify that, take my mind off things and I really really appreciate you guys taking time off of your busy lives to give this a read. I'm super sorry if I haven't been responding to your comments - once again, I'm trying to cut back on screentime a little, but I promise I definitely will get to your lovely comments. I still eat them up tho lmao.

You can catch me going through old comments and going "holy shit people liked this stuff??" So thank you SO SO MUCH even if you're a casual reader or a reblogger or someone who's just yknow, in it for the ride. It means literally the ABSOLUTE WORLD to wake up to encouraging, thoughtful comments that makes me want to jump off the walls.

Tagging:

Thank you so much.

Perma: @stars-are-within-me @tessa-liam @thosehallowedhalls @quixoticdreamer16

Crimes only: @jerzwriter @ao719 @peonierose @cassie-thorne @moominofthevalley @trappedinfanfiction

#trystan thorne #crimes of passion fics #viktoria thorne #w:inlocusmads #crimes of passion #choices march challenge

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vampirkit · 2 months

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"I picked these for you, something to cheer you up" / "You cheer me up"

Kamilah x Lucy doodle, bcz im rewatching merlin and this scene made me think of them

daisies (ish LMAO) for march ! @choicesmonthlychallenge @choicesficwriterscreations

#kamilah x lucy #kamilah sayeed #lucy west #kamilah x mc #bloodbound mc #bloodbound #choices #playchoices #choices march challenge #choices fic writers creations #choices fanart #my art

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lilyoffandoms · 2 months

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Ava Cunningham for @choicesmonthlychallenge

Snapdragon: magic, truth-telling, & broken curse

My Art ish Tags: @storyofmychoices @aallotarenunelma @twinkleallnight @thosehallowedhalls @dutifullynuttywitch

Thanks to whoever suggested her with snapdragons (I can’t remember sorry 😅)

#my art ish thing #i polish nothing #ava cunningham #choices ilitw #playchoices #choices monthly challenge #choices march 2024 challenge #weekend portraits

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paladin-panoply-of-pax · 2 months

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“Use your gifts and your talents to greatest possible effect while you can. Spread joy wherever possible. Laugh at jokes. Tell jokes. Make puns and bugger the embuggerances. Read books. Read my books. You might like them. You might find something else you like even more than them. Look for these things in life.

Question authority. Champion good causes. Speak out against injustice. Do not tolerate bullies or bigots or racists or anti-intellectuals or the narrow-minded. Use your education to challenge them. Broaden their perspectives. Make the world you interface with a happier place.

These are your choices. Choices you have been fortunate to have been given, so don’t waste them while you have them. Don’t look back in years to come and wish you had grasped a fleeting opportunity. Grasp it now with both hands, Live. Strive. Love.”

from A Little Advice for Life taken from ‘Terry Pratchett: from birth to death, a writer.’

—Sir Terry Pratchett; April 28, 1948 – March 12, 2015

One of the greatest compliments I've ever received is that I resemble Sam Vimes.

Mind how you go.

#sir terry pratchett #terry pratchett #gnu terry pratchett #discworld #mind how you go #how do they rise up

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sofullofloveicould · 1 year

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march writing challenge 2023 - day 28

a song you'd play at a party

People say I'm indecisive, running around in circles in my head. If I hate something one day, I'll like it the next. My breath stutters in my throat, and I face two paths. One leads to certain doom, I assure myself, and the other, a fate somehow worse.

It's him or him, you or me, how loud to scream or how beautiful I should try to be.

I find myself holding my breath, waiting for that perfect moment when the answer will come to me in a vision as if from heaven, bundled in olive garlands and sent to me in a halo of light.

I pick at my nails, then rip out my hair, and cover the bald spots with curls and my mother's color-correcting conditioner.

I get bangs and then I get anxious, crying and rocking, making a fool out of myself.

I take it back, I think later. That wasn't the real me, I change my decision.

I do not know what the right answer is, not when approached by friends or when staring blankly at an application form.

What has been your greatest adversity in life?

Losing friends or abandoning family? Empty wine bottles or scissors in my desk drawer? (myself?)

It taunts me.

I kiss her, laying in sleeping bags one night, but the pit of regret in my stomach grows into a cavern unscalable, and our conversations crumble in my hands.

I made the wrong choice.

I take it back, I take it back!

With every bite, my stomach turns. I start counting, and everything tastes like bile now to me, and the numbers dance in my head at night and when I close my eyes.

I made the wrong choice.

I am stuck on this road, I am stuck in this body. I take it back.

I cut them off, but I always come crawling back. I am weak, and human nature is strong.

Decisions turn gummy on my tongue. I try not to make them now. I know I will always look back on what could've been.

The world rushes on. Deadlines pass, and people fade. If I never pick a path, do I live in the in-between forever? The crossroads between my childhood and adulthood will never pass. My boots are too deep in the muck.

There is no turning back.

I would fix me, but I might regret it.

#not sure about my song choice for this #but I don't exactly go to many parties.#this one has ok vibes #mental health #30dwc #30 day writing challenge #march writing challenge #yes & no #xylo #Spotify

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leclerc-hs · 5 months

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fille stupide - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: request from anon, in which you don't know French and a stranger helps you find your way back home Warning: 18+, SMUT, mean charles, degradation, some French (badly translated please correct me if needed), smut, smut, smut.... Word Count: 1808 Author's Note: I can't stop writing smut??? I think I hit every area the anon wanted!!! xo hope you like it lmaoooo also I wrote this so fast so it might not be my best work but I couldn’t sleep so I decided to write to pass the time. UPDATE: Also I just want to give a major shoutout to @dannyramirezwife for checking the translations for me!! It seriously means the world to meeee PART 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

DESPITE MONACO'S REPUTATION as one of the smallest countries in the world, you found yourself defying expectations by getting lost. The common assumption that such a compact place would be easy to navigate proved to be a misconception, as Monaco’s intricate streets and unique layout presented a challenge, turning what seemed impossible into a reality. Your reality.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The murmur of students passing by echoed, their conversations blending into a linguistic symphony of French, a language foreign to your ears. The decision to pursue the International University of Monaco, a place where the native tongue was French, felt like a bold and ambitious choice at first. The picturesque landscapes, the allure of the Mediterranean, and the prestigious academic reputation had drawn you in.

However, as you stood outside the building, the reality of linguistic barriers hit you with full force. It seemed like every conversation, every announcement, and every piece of information was enveloped in a language you struggled to comprehend. Although, most knew English, it wasn’t the standard, and you were not yet adjusted to it.

Panic surged through you as you hurriedly navigated the winding sidewalks, desperately trying to locate the building housing your apartment. Your focus was solely on scanning the towering buildings, hoping to spot a familiar one. The urgency of the situation compelled you to dart forward, not paying mind to those surrounding you. It was a recipe disaster, leading you to collide right into the body of another person.

“Mon dieu,” My God. The man said with a slight annoyance in his tone. “Regarde où tu marches!” Watch where you’re walking!

As the words were proclaimed, your eyes locked with a man’s gaze. He was the most stunning individual your eyes have ever beheld. His physique was tan, sculpted and taut, with biceps stretching the seams of his t-shirt. A pair of black sunglasses perched confidently on the bridge of his nose, adding an extra layer of allure to his presence.

You had absolutely no idea what he was saying. Although by the look of his furrowed eyebrows and tightened jaw, it was evident he was far from pleased. He removed his sunglasses, unveiling a pair of narrowed eyes.

Embarrassment tinged your cheeks as you stammered, “I’m so sorry!”

Under his scrutinizing gaze, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of smallness. His eyes, which you presumed to be green, were veiled in fury, making it difficult to discern their true color, yet undeniable captivating in their intensity.

“Tu parles Français?” Do you speak French? A sly grin stretched across his lips slowly, reveling in your bewilderment. “Stupide, stupide fille,” Stupid, stupid girl. he added, savoring the moment.

Gazing downward, you focused on your feet, idly brushing your hands across the bottom of your white sundress. The garment was short, adorned with a little tied bow between your breasts and flower details.

“I’m a bit lost.” You muttered. “Would you be able to help me find my place?”

“I ne sais pas,” I don’t know. He persisted in speaking French, despite knowing you couldn’t understand. It felt as if he aimed to humiliate you, to provoke a sense of frustration or anger deliberately.

“Évidemment, je peux. Fille stupide.” Of course, I can. Stupid girl. He was mocking you and you didn’t even know it.

You let out an exasperated groan and sidestepped to make way for him, muttering a small ‘nevermind.’ However, as you moved, he followed suit, intentionally blocking your path and halting your movement.

“You shouldn’t be wearing dresses so short,” his fingers gently toyed with the thin strap of your dress. “It’s a bit windy for them.”

You felt the goosebumps rise on your skin from his touch alone. You frowned, “So, you do speak English?”

“Oui, la plupart des gens le font.” Yes, most people do. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he continued speaking in French. While you acknowledged the need to learn the language, it felt like he was intentionally being cruel rather than helpful. “Are you in University?”

You nodded briskly, eager not to waste any time, especially since he finally seemed willing to be helpful.

“Most of the students live this way,” he mentioned, his hand wrapping around your wrist as he began to walk, essentially pulling you along with him. The touch of his skin against yours stirred butterflies in your stomach. Despite the fact he was insanely hot, you struggled to concentrate, almost forgetting the fact that he was behaving like a total asshole.

He muttered French phrases to himself throughout the entire walk, small laughs escaping his lips while you remained clueless about what he was saying.

“Je veux te manger.” I want to eat you out.

“Tu t’habilles comme une salope.” You dress like a slut.

“Je vais te détruire.” I’m going to wreck you.

You weren’t sure what it was. Whether it was delusion from exhaustion or simply the undeniable sex appeal of the guy, the words, even though you didn’t understand them, strangely aroused you.

Guiding you through the streets, he steered you into a lobby of a building that finally seemed familiar. “What number are you?” he inquired, referring to your apartment number.

“Why would I give a stranger my apartment number?”

He scoffed, “I’m Charles. Not a stranger anymore. What’s the number?”

You didn’t give him the information because he convinced you that easily. It was more because he knew the area better than you.

“0217? I think.” You replied, not entirely certain. The rush of your first day at university had left you with little time to settle in and memorize details. He didn’t seem to have much patience as he led you quickly up the stairwell and in front of a door with the numbers 0217 on it. You pulled out your key and unlocked the door, smiling as you finally pushed it open with success.

“Come in and have some water before you go,” You offered. It was the least you could do to express gratitude for his assistance. Your apartment was sparsely furnished, with only a mattress on the floor and several boxes scattered about.

“Sorry for the mess,” you bent over to pick up two water bottles from the case of water, your lace underwear with tiny hearts all over them peeking out for Charles view. He groaned loudly and unashamed.

Fatigue weighed heavily behind your eyes, but a persistent ache tugged at your stomach, insisting on the need to fulfill it.

“Mon dieu, j’ai besoin de t’avoir.” My god, I need to have you.

You rolled your eyes at the man as he said yet another sentence in French, handing him the water bottle. Rather than taking the water bottle from your hand, he grasped tightly onto your forearm and pulled you into him, the shock of his grasp causing you to drop the water bottle.

You felt your stomach tightening with need as his hands were on you once again. It was sick really. How this big of an asshole could turn you on so much.

“Rule number one, you can only roll your eyes when my cock is stretching your tight little pussy.” The scent of his cologne made your knees week. It was embarrassing. How quickly he was able to affect you.

A soft gasp escaped your lips at his words, and your heart raced rapidly in response. He towered over your small frame, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at your flushed skin. A dead giveaway to how badly you were aching for him.

His hand swiftly pulled the strings of the dress, giving him full access to your breasts. He slipped his hand into it, pinching your nipple between his middle finger and thumb.

“On the bed.” His tone was demanding and authoritative, treating you like you were the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. Treating you like the slut that you were. “On your hands and knees.”

You rushed over to the bed, falling to your hands and knees, turning your head to look up at Charles behind you. Once he makes his way over, he grabs your hair and pulls you so your back is flushed to his chest, pulling your mouth to his. His tongue slips its way into your mouth, devouring you. The process is not entirely sexy. It’s urgent. Frantic. As if neither of you could have enough of one another.

He pulled away and spoke gruffly, as if he was angry with you. “Doesn’t even know a lick of French, stupide fille.” Stupid girl. He remarked, switching off between French and English.

Your dress was so short that he didn't even need to move it to see your panties. The dainty little hearts had him foaming at the mouth. So fucking cute.

“Fucking salope.” Slut. He pushes you back down, letting you fall back onto your hands as he pulled his pants down, freeing his cock.

You felt your mouth water at the sight. Just like him, his cock was beautiful. Perfectly smooth and dripping with pre-cum. You moaned as he pressed the head of his cock to your lace covered pussy, teasing you with it. You felt yourself growing needier, trying to push yourself onto his cock for more friction.

“You’re so fucking wet,” He groaned, pulling your underwear to the side, and spitting directly onto your pussy. He did it as if he was spitting on the sidewalk, with no care and no respect, shoving two fingers into your heated center. He wasn’t gentle in the slightest. He was greedy, taking whatever he wanted from you. “Pathétique,” Pathetic. He sighs, shaking his head, "Such a cock slut."

Loud moans left your mouth as he stroked where you ached with his fingers before removing them and replacing them with his cock.

“So fucking tight,” he hisses, his fingers grabbing onto the skin of your ass to add leverage as his continues to push deeper. To push harder. Your pussy squeezes him harder as he utters the words. “Tu aimes ça?” You like that? He muses on, “You like hearing what a tight pussy you have?”

“Dirty fucking slut.”

His hand reaches out and forces your head down onto the mattress, limiting your breathing. He’s completely unhinged. His hips relentlessly pounding into you. Fucking you like he’s mad at you. Fucking you like he hates you. With every thrust, a loud moan escapes your lips, echoing off the empty apartment walls.

“Come on my cock,” he demands. “Squeezing me like you’re going to come.” He states. You can hear the smirk in his voice.

You feel yourself choking on your moans as it hits you. You’re now leaping over the edge of your orgasm. “That’s it,” he soothes, talking you through as you release all over his cock, but he doesn’t slow the roll of his hips into you. He pulls your face up from the mattress, his hand holding you up by the back of your neck. You’re completely limp, practically nothing but a toy for him to use.

“Charles,” you’re yelling his name repeatedly.

At the sound of your voice yelling his name, he quickly pulls out and comes undone, releasing all over your backside. He collapses beside you, both of you trying to catch your breath. You both lie there, unmoving, just staring at each other.

“You should really learn French.” He laughs, a smug smile forming on his lips. You can’t help but laugh in response.

“Maybe you can teach me?”

“Peut être.” Maybe.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #fillestupide #Fille stupide

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angelltheninth · 8 months

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hiii !can i request sum mahito smut hcs ? the new ep made me wanna give him head loll :/

Just general headcanons? Sure, been a while since I didn't write anything too specific.

Pairing: Mahito x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, possessive sex, choking, cum marking, scratching, making out, ruined orgasm, control, begging, power dynamics, mean dom!Mahito

A/N: A real good friend of mine loves Mahito so I hope I do him justice.

Aftercare is... pretty much non-existent with Mahito, he knows what it is but he never seems to bother with it in the slightest

Having sex with him is a gamble if you're gonna be coming or not, he will for sure, he always does but your orgasm depends on his mood

Wants you to wear short, revealing skirts that show your legs so he can grab your thighs and ass whenever he wants, and so his sharp bites are visible

You have to buy new underwear all the time because he rips them all of you in his horny haste to get you naked

Your body is his canvas to paint with his cum and you don't get a say in that, he will make sure every demon within miles can smell that you belong to him alone, that he is the one who gets to fuck your cunt every night, no any time of day he wants

Mahito's libito is very, very high and somehow gets higher after he killed someone

Having sex with you while he's still covered in blood is no issue for him

Loves to leave deep scratches, gashes on your stomach when he fucks you from behind, these are only you for you to see, because the moment someone else mentions them he'll know that you've been showing your body to someone else, and of course he can't have that

Those marks are further proof that his is your one and only

Mahito doesn't fuck anyone else while he has you either, he brags about them though, or tells you how easy you are to replace if you don't know your place, don't do as you're told

He has ways of punishing you when you mess up too, he can fuck you within an inch of coming, fill you with enough cum to get you pregnant and then press on your clit while telling you not to come

Can do so once, leaving you waiting for him to come back or he can do it many times in one sex session and never let you come, have you begging, torn between disobeying him, touching yourself and listening to him

When he's bored of a meeting he'll leave without saying a word, march into your room and start to make out with you

If anyone interrupts he'll flip them off while making a show of ripping off your panties and hand the torn piece of clothing on the door handle, that's something that's become pretty much a warning sign not to be disturbed

No one would ever call you a slut to your face except for Mahito despite everyone knowing you fuck on a nightly basis and enjoy every degrading thing he does to you

He loves to have your legs around him while you kiss, it makes him feel like he's the one with no choice but to get out of this by fucking you, it makes him feel like you're challenging him to fuck you hard enough for your legs to turn to jello

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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 7 months

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One thing I do like about TOTJ's take on Dooku's fall is that it really highlights that the Dark Side makes you absolutely masochistic. (Mega long post ahead).

One thing TOTJ establishes is that Qui-Gon's death is absolutely on Dooku (no matter if the show itself doesn't seem to be aware of it).

His tone is concerned and his attitude sympathetic and supportive, but he knows. He knows it's a Sith Lord (he even knows Maul's name). He knows Qui-Gon almost died and is marching right into another trap, but he asks questions anyway and affects ignorance.

"I've been warning them about the coming darkness for years," he says, "never to be taken seriously." Using the Council's skepticism as an occasion to complain about how they didn't believe him while lying by omission is a great case of that hypocrisy Dooku loves denouncing in others. Dooku would rather Qui-Gon share his disillusionment with the Jedi than actually do anything to help Qui-Gon. The Council don't believe him? Okay, Dooku, but YOU DO. You can just tell him what's going on.

But he doesn't.

On some level, Dooku has to be aware of what's about to happen. Qui-Gon is walking into grave danger, and Dooku's response to that - before it happens, when there is still time to stop it - is to put the blame on the people who don't know shit while not doing shit himself. (Why can't Dooku be there to protect Qui-Gon, other than because he's already slavishly loyal to Sidious' plans?)

And this moment puts every subsequent action of Dooku's throughout the Prequels in perspective - particularly his relationships with Obi-Wan, Ventress and Yoda.

Dooku is a glutton for punishment.

I've written here about why I think the 'Box' from TCW 4x17 is meant to parallel Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's mission on Naboo. The dioxis, ventilation shafts, the catwalks and lightsabers, the ray shields, the fire pit... Dooku's idea of a test to find the best mercenaries around is to have them survive what killed Qui-Gon (what he allowed to happen).

During the challenge, it's pretty obvious he starts to suspect Hardeen is Obi-Wan.

Or at the very least, he's taking an interest in the man who supposedly killed Qui-Gon's own apprentice - Dooku's spiritual grandson (see RotS novelization), whom he's been trying very hard to either recruit or kill himself. And what does he do with that interest? Tries to push "Hardeen" to kill Eval in anger.

Dooku, who still mourns the Padawan he knowingly let walk away to his death, watches a pantomime of his Padawan's death, while putting in mortal danger all he has left of said apprentice. If he knows Hardeen is Obi-Wan (and it's pretty obvious that he does), he tries to get Obi-Wan to Fall (or potentially die) in a scenario reenacting Qui-Gon's death. If he doesn't know for sure, then he's encouraging his all but grandson's killer to win the tournament because he admires him (for killing someone Dooku wanted by his side).

Whatever the outcome, Dooku chooses to relive his guilt and chooses to make the same choice to kill his loved one all over again, even though we know he hates that he made this choice:

He misses Qui-Gon and needs him but tries to kill or destroy Obi-Wan, whom he needs and wants by his side. (I haven't counted just how many time he does try killing Obi-Wan in TCW while still expressing his indefectible admiration for him - it's frequent, the Box just stands out to me as one of the most noteworthy occasions.)

And he keeps doing stuff like that!! He keeps choosing the path that causes him the most pain. He does it with Sifo-Dyas, he does it with Yaddle, he does it with Yoda and he does it with Ventress.

Just look at him confronting Sidious about Qui-Gon's death:

He KNOWS following Sidious got Qui-Gon murdered and he KNOWS Sidious will continue to kill or order him to kill people close to him. And yet he's quick to reassure Sidious that this doesn't change anything. Securing his position with Sidious matters more than his rage and grief. The ONLY WAY this behavior makes sense is if Dooku is fully aware that he had a choice about Qui-Gon's fate, and decides that this is the path he's on now: Sidious might make him kill everyone he cares about, but he's going to do it. Every time, things will play out the same.

Sidious tells him to kill Ventress, his new apprentice? Sure, why not!

(And it's not even out of true loyalty for Sidious, because he constantly tries to double-cross him later on. It's pure self-destruction:)

He hates it, Sidious promises him more of it, and he goes along with it!

This is why Yaddle's attempts at bringing him back don't work, in my opinion:

"Whatever lies he's told you, whatever you have done, you can make up for it now by bringing him to justice." This might convince a man who is looking for atonement, except Dooku isn't. He is looking for punishment.

Killing or harming those close to him leaves him broken, furious or in pain? He'll just keep doing it.

Sidious offers him nothing more than agonizing slavery? He'll keep on kneeling.

That's when Yaddle literally offers him the Light - the light that is so much more powerful than the Dark that it has Sidious cowering, the light that can save him if he wants - Dooku just strikes her down, even though he was heartbroken over thinking he had killed her just a moment ago.

He chooses to kill her, regrets it and hates himself for it, and chooses to kill her again. HE KEEPS MAKING THE CHOICE THAT HE KNOWS WILL HURT.

His remedy to guilt is to pick a shovel, because by God if he hasn't hit rock bottom yet he's going to dig!

#long post #meta #dooku #darth sidious #obi-wan kenobi #qui-gon jinn #yoda #yaddle #tales of the jedi #count dooku

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choicesmonthlychallenge · 2 months

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Below the cut are some floral dividers you may use if you'd like during the month (or whenever) 💛

[March Prompts Here]

#flowers #floral #dividers #choices monthly challenge #choices march challenge #divider

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imagining-in-the-margins · 2 months

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🎀 CM KidFic Challenge 🧸

Hey everyone, I’m back with another monthly challenge! For the months of March AND April, I am formally challenging any willing writer to take a stab at writing fanfiction including children, babies, or pregnancy (biological, adoptive, animal, etc.) using their choice of Criminal Minds characters! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed! Please check out the Rules below the Keep Reading.

(**This is NOT a request list for me—this is a prompt list of other writers! Feel free to request from someone else, and be sure to let them know about the challenge!)

Prompts

Child says their first word(s)

Child becomes an older sibling

Character stands up for their child

The couple enjoys trying for a baby

Characters are fantastic platonic co-parents

Child is starting to act a lot like their parent(s)

The couple announces their pregnancy to everyone

The couple fosters a teenager preparing for college

The couple takes their child to college/their own place

The couple thinks they’re having twins… but it’s triplets

Character runs into their ex who has a child that looks just like them

The couple realizes how different things are the second, third, etc. time

Character needs reassurance about the fact they don’t enjoy being pregnant

Character finds that being around Child helps them heal their own inner child

The couple babysits together, which leads to a conversation about their future

Character struggles with the fact that their teenage kid has their first partner

Character is very attentive to their pregnant partner... almost irritatingly so

Character witnesses a quiet moment with their partner and their baby during a night feeding

Character, chronically single, asks their best friend if they’d be open to having a child with them

Child realizes that not every kid has two moms/two dads and they have a lot of questions about it

The couple takes Child to daycare for the first time but they can’t make themselves leave the parking lot

Child is having a hard time at school, so Character picks them up from school for a day of quality time together

Pregnancy cravings lead to a very dramatic late-night grocery store trip that makes Character fall more in love

Anything else you can imagine!

Childfree/Pregnancy-Free prompts below + Create your own!

Childfree/Pregnancy-Free Prompts

Character is the fun uncle/aunt

The couple adopts a pet together

Character gets to meet their partner’s (judgmental) pet

Character reveals that they don't want to have children and their partner's reaction surprises them

A child the BAU saved comes back years later to thank them and show what they’ve done with their life

The couple decides to give up on becoming parents and they learn how to have a fulfilled life without a child

Rules

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check.Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

The Masterlist of fics will be posted around May 1. If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!

Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️

Happy Writing!

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lilyoffandoms · 1 month

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Tyril x Kassandra for @petalouda85 for the @choicesmonthlychallenge

Camellia (pink): long for you

Camellia(red): you’re a flame in my heart

This took me forever and I’m so sorry about that but thanks for letting me borrow Kassandra. I think I finally got Tyril to not look like a blueberry but ugh, I’m still not happy with his face. Faces are hard yall!!

My Art Ish Thing Tag (Choices Edition): @storyofmychoices @aallotarenunelma @twinkleallnight @thosehallowedhalls @dutifullynuttywitch

Tyril Tag: @liviusofpella @starlight-starfury

#choices monthly challenge #choices march 2024 challenege #my art ish thing #i polish nothing #pose ref used

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staretes · 8 months

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to sail a ship

synopsis: when you first boarded the express, you immediately managed to become close friends with the archivist of the express. but march doesn't miss the softness in dan heng's eyes, reserved only for you. likewise, march watched as you awkwardly tried to make conversation with him, tinges of red dusted on your cheeks. ever since then, march has made it her personal mission to get the both of you together thankfully for you two, march has the knowledge of hundred of romance shows at her disposal.

tags: dan heng x reader, fluff w.c: 1.5k a/n: aaah first oneshot ^_^ reader is gn, however, they are described by himeko as pretty

phase one: get both of you to recognize your feelings for each other!

"so (name), what do you think of dan heng?"

"huh?!"

march's question's caught you off guard as you started scrambling for an answer. the both of you were in the express parlor car, sipping on juice, when march suddenly popped the question out of the blue. "he's great. i mean, he's a pretty reliable member of our team." you laughed nervously, familiar hints of rose creeping up your face.

"well everyone knows that, but would you date him?" march pressed on.

"uh…" march could practically see the gears turning in your head. but once march saw the small shift in your eyes and the light roses on your face blossoming into crimson petals, she knew her work was done.

"oh no!" march gasps "i totally forgot, i promised to do something for himeko!" she stood up. "bye bye! let's chat again another time, okay?" and before you could get a word in, march had skipped off to her room giggling, leaving you to mull over your thoughts.

however, dan heng proved to be a little (a lot) more challenging.

“hey dan heng, what do you think of (name)?” march inquired after barging into his room after “needing help” with her camera. “they’re a good friend.” dan heng responded curtly, keeping his eyes locked onto the data bank. “if you don’t need anything else, please leave. the archives is not a place for chitchat.”

after march was forced to leave sulking, she had no choice but to drag himeko into it.

himeko manages to corner dan heng after a meeting with the other express members. “dan heng, how do you feel about name? aren’t they pretty?”

after hearing that last part, dan heng’s ears turns scarlet, and he only manages to muster out a small “mhm”.

himeko watched him stumble over his words, and teases, “it’s obvious you like them a lot, you should ask them out! you two look cute together.”

march, watching dan heng excuse himself with his face glowing red from afar, silently promises to treat himeko to a large cup of coffee

phase two: help both of you pursue each other!

you used your shirt to polish the little keychain that you bought at a souvenir shop at a planet the express stopped at that day. as you awkwardly stood outside dan heng’s room, you couldn’t help but remember how you got here.

you were shopping for souvenirs for pom pom with march, when she excitedly tapped you on the shoulder. “hey, doesn’t this cat look like dan heng?” you squinted at the keychain of the cat. the little white cat had red, black and teal spots and a grumpy expression carved into its face with gold. besides the cat, there were little maple leaf charms hanging from the keychain. it really does look like dan heng, you smiled softly. march, noticing the awe on your face, giggled, “you should buy it for him! he’ll like it a lot!” “you think so?” you looked at her apprehensively “if its from you, of course he’ll like it!” march laughs, pretending not to see the faint blush on your cheeks as she pushes you towards the cashier.

as you stand outside the door dan heng’s room, hesitating before knocking on it softly. the door swings open, and dan heng looks surprised to see you.

“ah, (name), i was just looking for you.”

“huh?” you looked at him in confusion. “do you need anything?”

“it’s nothing important. it’s just…” he holds out a small phone charm. your breath hitched. it was made of sparkling beads of your favorite color and at the end, there was a little cat charm that bore a resemblance to you. "you mentioned once that you were fond of cats, so i thought you would like this phone charm.”

you take the phone charm and cradle it gently in your hands, before tenderly attaching it to your phone. “ thank you. i'll cherish it forever,” you whispered with a small grin on your face.

noticing his gaze fall on the keychain still tightly in your grasp, you suddenly felt heat rise to your cheeks and neck. you almost forgot! , “i got you something too! i was at a shop with march and it reminded me of you, so… here!” you ramble hurriedly as you put the keychain into his hands, ignoring your racing heart when your hands make contact. “thanks for the phone charm, i really like it! sorry for disturbing you, have a great night!” you bow to say your goodbyes as you hastened to return to your room.

dan heng, who was left at his doorway in a daze, shuts his door as his hands are gently clutching the keychain. as he carefully inspects it, he smiled softly as his heart flutters in his chest. his cheeks are red as he furiously typed a long thank you to himeko for helping him pick out the phone charm.

phase three: wait for the confession!

dan heng was unable to sleep that night.

his head was filled with thoughts from his interaction with you. his heart is still beating wildly at the sight of you holding the phone charm he gave you as if it was the most previous thing in the world, before giving him something because it reminded you of him. he feels his lips form a small grin endearingly. aeons, he really did like you a lot. he tosses and turns before giving up and goes to the parlor car to try and put his mind to rest.

his heart skips a beat when he finds you sitting there, looking into the blank space absent-mindedly. he greets you with a small “hello.” as he sits next to you

you snap out of your thoughts, and smile nervously, “hey. can't sleep either?"

he nods, and you both sit awkwardly in silence before dan heng speaks up "i realize that i never thanked you for the keychain. thank you. i like it a lot."

you beam, and dan heng feels his heart melt. "it's no problem. actually, march helped me pick it out" you admit. "although i didn't expect you to remember that i liked cats."

"you mentioned it once. of course i remember. " dan heng responds, amused.

you bring up the topic of how the little cat on the end of the keychain you gave him was a calico cat, and you liked those because you found them cute, and dan heng once again remembers that it reminded you of him. the two of you chat late into the night, dan heng's eyes growing softer and softer as he watches you passionately rant to him about everything that piqued your interest recently. you were just so captivating.

"how about you? what's on your mind recently?"

"you."

the word slips through his lips and before he realizes what he said, your face has turned completely red.

he stammers as he tries to pull himself together, "i apologize, i didn't mean for it to come out that way i-"

"you've been on my mind recently too."

you whispered softly, looking anywhere else but him. "hey, we still have a six days before the express leaves this planet, and i saw a small café in the main city when i was hanging out with march. do you want to come with me tomorrow? "

dan heng's heart soars as a small flicker of hope alights in his chest. "yes, i would like that." he nods, ears still a shade of crimson.

"great!" you smiled in relief. "as for the meantime though-h…" you yawned, stifling it into your mouth.

"are you tired? it's late, you should head back to your room" dan heng furrowed his eyebrows. "come on, i'll walk you." he stands up.

you nod sleepily, eyes half lidded, as he puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you to your room. as he watches you lie down on your bed, he can’t help but think about how soft your bed looked compared to his mattress. reluctant to leave you, he tells himself that you needed to rest, so he wishes you a good night and begins to leave.

"please stay."

he hears your sleepy voice behind him and pauses. "you can sleep in my bed tonight. i don't mind.

he hesitates, before lying down next to you. pillows and stuffed toys are scattered throughout the beds. it's cute. he smiles tenderly. he feels you inch closer and closer to him until your head is on his chest. he relaxes as he cards his fingers through your soft hair. "good night, (name). sweet dreams."

the next morning, march peeks through your door, intending to talk to you about dan heng, and instead finds the two of you fast asleep, dan heng's arm wrapped around you, legs intertwined together. the plan worked better than she intended, she grins smugly and takes a picture to send to himeko, never intending to let the two of you live it down.

mission accomplished!

#[✦ - archives!]#dan heng x reader #dan heng fluff #hsr imagines #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #dan heng imagines #hsr fluff

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 2 months

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1970 Dodge Challenger

The legend returns: Unveiling the powerful 1970 Dodge Challenger ‘Black Ghost’ with its iconic HEMI V8 engine

Posted on March 4, 2024

Emerging from its mysterious past as a street drag racer piloted by a police officer, the 1970 Dodge Challenger “Black Ghost” has now claimed the title of the most coveted classic Mopar.

Honoring its legacy, Dodge has introduced a contemporary tribute based on the 2023 Challenger Hellcat Redeye Widebody. In addition to this homage, the enigmatic “Black Ghost” is gearing up for its moment in the spotlight at an upcoming auction.

Captivating audiences at Kissimmee 2023 in January, the “Black Ghost” was proudly displayed alongside its contemporary counterpart. For those eager to witness its numbers-matching 426-cubic-inch (7.0-liter) HEMI V8 come to life, YouTube’s “DtRockstar1” recently shared footage of the legendary vehicle making its grand appearance at a few classic car events.

Although the video doesn’t showcase drag racing or burnouts, the striking all-black 1970 Challenger, now road-worthy after years in storage, is a breathtaking sight. Remarkably, the car remains in near-original condition, save for a few upgrades like a rebuilt brake booster, new carbs, radiator, master cylinder, and tires.

But what truly sets the “Black Ghost” apart from other classic cars, and how did it earn its intriguing moniker?

The original owner, Godfrey Qualls, was a Detroit police officer by day and a secretive drag racer by night. Risking his career, he would make unexpected appearances at local gatherings, dominate quarter-mile races, and then mysteriously vanish.

While Godfrey’s Challenger wasn’t entirely stock during its racing heyday, he kept modifications minimal, opting for a muffler delete, an aftermarket coil, and slick rear tires on stock wheels.

The HEMI V8’s impressive 425-horsepower output was more than enough for him to claim countless victories before disappearing for good in 1975. By then, the “Black Ghost” had already secured its legendary status in Detroit.

The enigmatic Challenger driver’s true identity remained a secret for decades until Godfrey revealed his thrilling drag-racing tales to his son, Gregory. Inheriting the car when his father passed away, Gregory brought the “Black Ghost” to light in 2017, sharing the astounding story of officer Qualls and his legendary vehicle.

Beyond its captivating history, this Mopar is an exceptional rarity from the golden age of muscle cars. Of the nearly 77,000 Challengers sold in 1970, a mere 356 were equipped with the formidable 426-cubic-inch HEMI V8. Godfrey’s choice of a four-speed manual gearbox further refines the car’s status to one of just 136 produced.

But the exclusivity doesn’t end there. With the added SE package, it’s one of only 60 Challengers ordered with the bundle. Considering the color and other options, it’s possible that fewer than 10 such examples were ever made.

In summary, this Challenger is the epitome of rarity, boasting a captivating story worthy of a book. It stands as a highly collectible classic that could very well be more valuable than any other 1970 Challenger in existence.

#dodge challenger #hemi #car #cars #muscle car #american muscle #mopar #moparperformance #moparnation #moparworld #dodge #challenger

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chateautae · 1 year

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to turn a bad thing good | jjk. I (teaser)

➵ summary: jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.

↳ part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing: ceo!jungkook x law student!reader

➵ genre: series, arranged marriage!au, fwb!au (?), haters to lovers!au, smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating: 18+

➵ word count: 590 (full first chapter, 13k)

➵ warnings (teaser): swearing, angst, mentions of sexual content

➵ release date: jan. 20th, 2023.

« TEASER »

“Wow, you’re like a fucking angry kitten. Unaware of her size in the world and yet still slashing her claws.”

“Shut the fuck up. I am not a kitten.”

He breathes a tight laugh as he eyes your height, clearly finding you ridiculous. So what if you’re shorter than him? You are not a docile kitten, you’re a lioness ready to pounce on anyone who fucks with you.

Jungkook’s cadence is leveled, his voice condescendingly honeyed over as he folds his arms. “We have to get married, little kitten. We just have to, we have no choice.”

“Well, I don’t want to marry you.”

“And I don’t want to fucking marry you either!” Jungkook suddenly explodes, his eyes wild as emotion overtakes him. “But for fuck’s sake, I have to take over my father’s company! I have to marry someone and prove something to him! I have it the fucking worst, the worst, and yet I’m still trying. I’m still compromising.”

“You have it the worst?” Your voice cracks, tears brimming your eyes. “I was fucking ambushed by my mother, the woman I trust most in this fucking world! She betrayed me in front of your family, you can’t possibly have it worse than I do!”

“Please,” Jungkook laughs, his tone cutthroat. “You did a Google search on me? Well I did one on you, too. You’re the daughter of a wealthy lawyer couple with a famous law firm. You were fed everything on a silver spoon, too. How hard could you have it?”

Rage boils inside you, having half the mind to not march over and slap him across the face. He knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing. Indignation becomes your friend, gritting at him. “Says fucking you.”

Jungkook appears exhausted now, shaking his head. He sighs again, hands perching onto his hips as he peers up at the inky black sky. “Look, I don’t care if you don’t want to marry me. You’re the only way I’ll get my parents off my fucking back, so be a doll and just do what you’re told, yeah?”

Now’s the time you truly can’t stand the man, approaching him with angry steps to invade his personal space. “Don’t you dare call me a doll, and what? You’re just gonna use me like you did the other night? Leave me once your needs are satisfied?”

Jungkook becomes formidable then, shoving himself in your face with mere inches between your heated, angry bodies. You hate that you focus on his height in comparison to yours, large enough that he could easily manhandle you. He towers you, sexily so, and you use every ounce of your strength to fight back your arousal.

“If I recall correctly, you’re the one that had four orgasms that night, kitten, so whose needs were really satisfied?”

The rumble of his foreboding voice shoots electricity through you, shoving down the urge to remember those four wonderful orgasms he made explode in your body. His words still implant disgust within you, ready to shove the man overboard for sure.

Jungkook seems to notice the way you swallow, his lips curving smugly, eyes dancing with amusement. “And here I thought you forgot about that night.”

You grind your teeth, hating his stupidly gorgeous face and sexy smirk. “Still doesn’t give you the right to use marrying me for your own benefit, you bastard. I want nothing to do with you.”

“Like fucking wise, wifey.”

“Don’t you dare call me that.”

“Then don’t you dare call me a bastard.”

You’re at your limit, hanging on by a fucking thread as Jungkook refuses to drop your gaze. He stares dauntingly, challenging you with his unmoving look. He’s still in your space, the gap between you two small enough to be closed by a single step. Your body reacts stupidly, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

And something about being burned intrigues you beyond explanation.

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#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #fic: to turn a bad thing good #jungkook series

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