#it seems boring but it's the best thing for them
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Author’s Note: This fic is in response to this lovely ask and from @jakeyt and her sinfully lovely little blurb as well. I loved writing this. The way I would pay all the money in my bank account to be able to make Jake Kiszka whimper… Ah well, a girl can dream.
Content Warnings: Fem!reader, smut, unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, dom!Jake & sub!reader (briefly), sub!Jake & dom!reader, overstimulation, cum play, name calling (whore, slut, etc), hickeys, biting. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI
Word Count: 3.5k
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O how the mighty have fallen.
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For Jake Kiszka, being a famous rockstar has its perks – money, traveling, thousands of adoring fans screaming his name, not to mention getting to do what he loves for a living surrounded by his brothers… all the things that you know Jake is thankful for. He’s told you countless times how lucky he feels, how humbled he is by the band’s success and by how much their fans support and love them.
But there’s one thing that comes with the job that Jake absolutely despises...
Paperwork.
It’s not often that he has to do it – all the contract signing and label nonsense that comes along with being famous. But whenever he does have to do it… well, it always leaves him in a sour mood.
And that’s exactly what he’s upstairs at his desk doing right now as you grow more and more bored by the second. You’d already cleaned up from the meal you’d shared a few hours before, you’d dusted, swept the floor, and re-arranged the ridiculous number of throw blankets that you and Jake have somehow managed to acquire over the years. But still… Jake is busy. So busy, in fact, that he’d declined your earlier offer of a special dessert after dinner, claiming that this paperwork just had to get done tonight.
But you’re tired of waiting.
Deciding that enough is enough, you ascend the stairs to your shared bedroom where you know Jake is currently hunched over the desk in the corner as he reads through all the musical industry jargon that’s nearly impossible to understand. You quietly enter the room, bare feet welcoming the softness of your carpeted bedroom floor as you creep up behind him.
“Still at it, huh?”
Jake startles, whipping his head around to glance at you over his shoulder before turning back around.
“Yep.” He mumbles, a fingertip tracing down the page in front of him.
“Sure is taking a while.” You walk closer to him, hovering over his shoulder to glance down at the papers in front of him.
Jake only hums in response, flipping a page over.
“Any idea when you’ll be done?” You ask, lips hovering so, so close to the sensitive skin of his neck – the spot right behind his ear that you know drives him crazy.
“Sooner if you let me work in peace.” The words are accompanied by a huff – not quite annoyed but definitely not pleased with your interruption.
“Touchy.” You tell him, earning yourself a sharp glance from the corner of his eye.
Realizing that you’re not going to get anything from him with just words, you decide it’s time to up your game a little bit. Dropping to your knees next to his chair, you glance up at him through your lashes. The movement finally seems to draw his full attention as he swivels in his chair to look at you in confusion.
His jaw clenches as he fully takes in the position that you’ve placed yourself in. Success.
“Y/n. What are you doing?”
“Waiting patiently and quietly,” you say with a little shrug, doing your best to play innocent, “for you to be finished.”
His eyes narrow, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.
“Sure you are.” He says, voice a little lower and his eyes dilating. You know now that you’ve got him hook, line, and sinker. “Definitely not trying to tease me at all?”
“I’m not teasing.” You tilt your head, spreading your thighs a little bit. “Is me sitting here bothering you?”
Jake grins a little, spreading his own legs as he keeps his dark eyes fixed on you.
“Just giving me a few, very unhelpful and entirely too distracting ideas.”
Oh you’ve really got him now. You know that there’s no way in hell that he’ll go back to whatever he was working on before. His hips shift in his seat, the light gray material of his pants allowing you to see as his length begins to harden – twitching and straining beneath the fabric.
“What sort of ideas?” You ask him, heat flooding to your core at the sight of his very obvious desire.
Instead of answering, Jake reaches down and grips your jaw in his calloused hand – his thumb coming up to drag along your bottom lip. You bite back a moan as his hips shift again and his breathing catches a little, betraying just how badly he wants you.
“Thinking about your big cock in my mouth?”
The bluntness of your question clearly takes him off guard as his lips part in a barely there moan. But then his grin widens, eyes sparkling wickedly.
“Something like that.” He murmurs, chest rising and falling quickly. “You know I love it when you talk filthy.”
You nod, reaching upwards to place your hands on his knees and pushing to spread his legs wider. You scoot forward, placing yourself even closer to where you know he wants you. But you don’t move, hands staying resolutely on his knees.
“Do you want me to stop, Jakey?” You ask, already knowing his answer. “Don’t wanna distract you...”
“No.” The word is more like a growl and his grip on your jaw tightens. His hips rock forward again, as if needing relief so badly that the little friction his pants provide is better than what you’re refusing to give him. “You know good and well what I want, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” You smile up at him as you finally move to unzip his pants. He lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them fully down, leaving him in his boxers now. His cocks strains against them – his precum already leaving a dark spot on the fabric.
“Fuck.” He groans as you finally press your palm to his length, rubbing him through the fabric slowly. His cock throbs in answer and you can’t help but laugh a little at his desperation.
“Feel good?” You ask teasingly, rubbing your middle and pointer finger along his head in slow circles. The muscles in his thighs tense as he lets out a breath.
“Yeah.” You slide your hand back downwards, massaging his balls through his boxers and making him groan again. “Such a fucking tease.”
You laugh lightly, pulling your hand away from him completely and he whines a little in protest.
“I would never.” You answer, tugging his boxers down and finally setting his aching cock free. The skin is red from rubbing against the fabric and he twitches a little as the cool air hits him.
You rise up fully, bracing both hands on the tops of his thighs before sinking your mouth down around him completely.
“Oh.” He says through a moan, his right hand coming up to tangle in your hair as you swallow around him. “Fuckin’ hell.”
You rise up a little, keeping your lips wrapped around his head and suckling a little bit, closing your eyes and moaning around him. It does the trick and suddenly he’s thrusting upwards the best he can, fingers tightening in your hair as you allow him to fuck into your mouth like you know he’s been thinking about doing since you first sat down at his feet.
“Bet you’ve been waiting for this all day.” He says through clenched teeth, eyes rolling back as you moan around him again. “Just waiting to let me fuck your pretty mouth, haven’t you?”
You nod the best you can, gagging a little as the velvety head of his cock nudges the back of your throat mercilessly. Your fingers dig into his thighs as he gets a little rougher, his composure cracking completely as he nears his release. Clearly he’s been just as worked up as you’ve been these past few hours.
His groans begin to grow even louder so you pull off him with a ‘pop’ and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Y/n, fuck.” He protests, glaring down at you the way he always does when you push him too far. “I was so close.”
“I know.” You say with a shrug, backing up a little bit. You know you’re toeing the line – getting dangerously close to pushing him too far and earning yourself a delicious punishment. But you don’t want to back down. “But you have work to do.” A nod to the papers laying abandoned on the desk.
Jake growls, fisting his hands in your hair and tugging so that your head falls back, exposing your throat as he leans in close.
“Don’t,” he says darkly, lips hovering just above yours, “be a brat. Or I’ll have to punish you.”
You lean upwards as much as you can with the tight grip he has on your hair and swipe your tongue across his bottom lip and then drag it across his jaw slowly, leaving a trail of saliva smeared across his beautiful face. Jake’s nostrils flare as you pull away, fire lighting in his eyes.
Without warning, Jake stands quickly and yanks on your hair, pulling you to your feet roughly.
“Get on the fucking bed. Lose the clothes.”
You hastily rip your tank top and shorts off, tossing them to the floor before climbing onto the bed, completely bare before him. Jake yanks his own shirt off, revealing himself fully to you as well before instantly pinning you to the mattress beneath him.
“What, my dearest, sweetest, little angel,” he teases, “has gotten into you tonight, hm? Why are you being such a little slut?”
You relax your thighs on either side of him and roll your hips up into him, rubbing your slick folds against his aching cock. He groans then, his hand coming down to press heavily against your lower stomach to stop you from moving.
“Were you feeling ignored?” His tone is sickly sweet, mocking and husky as you writhe beneath him. “Is that it, baby?”
“Yes.” You answer him breathlessly. “Wanted your cock so bad.”
“Oh, yeah? Such a desperate whore that you couldn’t wait just a little bit longer for me to be done? Couldn't- fuck!”
You cut him off, scissoring your legs and throwing your bodyweight with them as you flip Jake completely into his back, You settle on top of him, straddling him and using your body to pin him for once.
“You were taking too long.” You tell him, loving the way his mouth has dropped open in complete shock at you challenging him like this. “And you talk too much.”
“You’re asking for it, angel.” He warns darkly, but the flush on his chest and the way his cock keeps twitching betrays how the roles reversing has affected him.
“Am I?” You ask, sliding your wet pussy along his length where it rests against his stomach. “I think you like this too much to do anything about it…” You place both palms on his stomach for leverage, relishing in the softness of him as you continue to slide up and down on his hard cock.
His hands come up and grip your hips harshly, his eyes fluttering shut as he guides your hips over him faster.
“Bloody hell, where has this been hiding?” He asks through gritted teeth.
“Fuck, I dunno. You made me wait for too long.” You answer, struggling to get the words out thanks to the way his shaft is rubbing against your swollen clit – the feeling made even better thanks to his precum and your wetness mixing together.
“Ride me, angel.” He begs, fingers digging into your hips so harshly you know it’s gonna leave bruises. “Wanna see you bouncing on my cock.”
“Fuck.” You whine, rising up a little bit as he fists his dick, helping to guide himself into you as you slowly sink down onto him.
You both cry out loudly, the stretch of him nearly overwhelming.
“Jake.” You whimper. “Oh my God.”
“So fuckin’ tight.”
You start to bounce, tossing your hair over your shoulder and keeping your palms on his abdomen. Jake thrusts up to meet you, sweat dripping down his temples.
“Shit, I’m not gonna last long like this.” His voice sounds just as wrecked as he looks, his cock already twitching and pulsing inside you. You’re teasing from earlier has clearly done a number on him but you’re right behind him too.
With his eyes rolled back into his head and his creamy skin shiny and flushed, he looks like the picture of sin. His throat bobs, looking all too bite-able. His hair is splayed out on the pillow beneath his head like a halo — though you're entirely certain that no angel would want anything to do with you and him right now. A fallen angel then, you think to yourself, lost in the throes of pleasure.
Overcome by the sight of him beneath you like this, by the sounds of pleasure that tumble from his lips with each roll of your hips, you lean downwards and attach your mouth to the column of his throat. Then, almost without thinking, your teeth graze the sensitive skin and Jake jolts beneath you, a loud moan escaping him as you bite down — pinching his skin with your teeth. You soothe the spot with a pass of your tongue, moving downwards a little to suck a purple mark onto his skin.
"Do that again." His voice sounds so unlike himself — needy and desperate. "Mark me." It's not a request — but a whiny, broken prayer.
There's no denying him now as you graze your lips over to the other side of his neck, sucking another bruise there. You can feel his cock pulse as you do so and his breathing quickens even more.
"So pretty, Jakey."
He whimpers in answer, plush lips dropping open and tiny little grunts and moans leaving them with every thrust of his hips.
His cock feels so good inside of you, the ridges and veins brushing against your walls in a delicious drag and the blunt head hitting against your sweet spot with each rise and fall of your hips. He's driving into you recklessly, coaxing you closer and closer and closer to your release. Your thighs begin to burn but you can't stop. You won't stop.
“Jake, ‘m gonna cum! Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
“Yeah. Fucking do it, angel. Oh fuck!”
Suddenly his thumb is circling your clit and then your orgasm is crashing through you. Your walls clench around him as you cry out his name – the burn in your thighs fading into nothing as you continue to ride him through your release.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jake is right behind you, thrusting up helplessly as he finishes, painting your walls with his release.
As your mind finally begins to return, as the waves of pleasure dissipate at last, you’re hit with a wonderfully devilish idea. You’ve gotten away with more than you ever have before tonight and… what’s one more thing, really?
You pull off Jake, climbing off to the side of his body. His eyes are closed, his face the picture of bliss. Giving him no warning, you wrap your hand around his spent cock. Jake's body convulses, eyes snapping open as he whines. Loudly.
“Y/n!” He cries out your name as you jerk him roughly, his poor cock valiantly beginning to harden again as you work your palm over him, yours and his releases making it slick and easy. “God.”
“Give me one more, Jakey.” You murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from him. He writhes, hands falling to his sides and fisting the sheets into his hands, fingers turning white where his rings dig into his skin.
“I can’t!” He cries out, head thrashing. “Fuck, it’s too much.”
He sounds so desperate, so broken and it sends a thrill through you. Oh how the mighty has fallen at last.
“Poor baby.” You tease. “Getting a taste of your own medicine, yeah?”
He whimpers in answer, body going taut as pleasure finally begins to overtake him again. He really is tasting his own medicine – experiencing first hand the sinful agony that he loves to inflict upon you. It’s always you.
But not tonight. No, he’s been flying too close to the sun for a long, long time and tonight he’s finally paying the price for it.
“Give me another one, baby.” You murmur, eyeing the way his hair sticks to the side of his face and his neck with sweat. “Show me how much you love me. Show me that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” He says through a moan, body beginning to tremble. “Only yours. Fuck!”
“Yeah, you are. You’re mine.”
His body goes completely rigid, muscles so tense you’re almost afraid he might hurt himself.
“Holy shit! Oh God, I’m gonna- fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
“That’s it, baby. That’s right. Being such a good boy.”
That does it. Jake’s whole body convulses, his eyes rolling back in his head as hot cum explodes from him. He screams – a sound so beautiful and full of pleasure that you’ve never heard from him before. You work him through it, watching as he completely succumbs to it all, chanting your name the whole way through.
Finally, his body relaxes slightly and he whimpers so you let go of him and reach up to swipe his hair from his forehead. You can feel his racing heartbeat as you place your hand on his chest, hoping to try and help him settle a little. Those gorgeous eyes of his finally blink open to look at you and a tired, satiated smile spreads across his lips.
“Okay?” You ask, trying to hold back your own grin after seeing such a display from him.
“Jesus. I think so.” He shifts a little, grimacing at the feeling of his cum drying on his stomach and chest. “Sticky.” He adds with a little pout.
You roll your eyes playfully and rise to grab his boxers off the floor and wipe him clean, carefully avoiding his abused cock where it lays spent against his thigh.
“That was fucking hot.” You tell him, settling down next to him in the bed. The lights are still on but neither of you seem to have the energy to get up and turn them off quite yet.
“Yeah.” He breathes out, laughing a little, “I think my soul left my body there for a minute.”
“Would do again, then?” You ask, grinning a little at him.
He grins back.
“Oh, fuck yes. I didn’t know you had that in you… taking control like that.”
You turn on your side to face him and press a little kiss to his lips.
“Me neither.”
After a long moment of comfortable, exhausted silence you ask, suddenly a little worried, “That paperwork didn’t actually have to be done by tonight, right?”
“Fuck.”
fin
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Not Strawberry
Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist
Pairing: ginger!female oc x Lando Norris
Warnings: Fluffy
Summary: She's been in London the last few years, doing long-distance with her boyfriend in Monaco, but when she's finally able to move in with him, people are shocked to learn Lando Norris has had a long time girlfriend.
Requested: NO / yes
Max had convinced Lando to stream tonight, weeks ago, before Lando knew his girlfriend was going to be moving in, and now, he's regretting it.
Max had met Rowan more than a few times during the relationship, and while he would have allowed Lando to not join the stream, a couple of other streamers were going to be on tonight, all of which Lando had promised to be there.
So, here Lando is getting ready to stream and also not wanting to let his girlfriend go.
"But baby, I don't want to," Lando whines to his girlfriend as he pushes his head into her neck.
"You are the one that promised, and you knew I was moving in this week," Rowan points out to her boyfriend as she runs her fingers through his curls.
Lando groans as he pulls away, whining the whole time to his stream room.
"I'll make dinner as you do," Ro calls after the groaning Brit.
She hears a faint okay from the room as Lando leaves the door open just a crack so he can hear if his girlfriend needs him.
In the kitchen, Rowan picks up her tablet, logs into Twitch, and turns on Lando's stream as she moves around the kitchen, getting everything she needs to make their dinner, which is Traditional Swedish Meatballs with mashed potatoes and roasted carrots and some dessert, which is Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte, or Black Forest Gateaux.
Also, she had been craving her mom's homemade cinnamon rolls, which she stole the recipe for before moving to Monaco.
Lando also made the request for cheesecake as he was bragging to Max about and she was going to make it happen.
She was bored and didn't just want to stand around and wait for Lando to be done.
She was watching the stream as she made the meatballs for dinner.
"Baby, that smells so good," Lando calls out as she gets them frying in the pan.
Rowan smiles at her boyfriend as she watches the chat of his stream go crazy about learning the rumors about Lando having a girlfriend.
Lando realizes what he said and that he didn't mute his mic as he did, and Rowan chuckles at the driver but not entirely loud enough to hear her.
"Yeah, I have a girlfriend and have for the last 5 years, but she was just now able to move to Monaco because of personal reasons. I will not tell you at this moment," Lando reveals as he continues to play with his friends.
"Max, does he really have a girlfriend, or is he just playing?" One of the other gamers asked the driver's best friend.
"Yeah, he does, and she's got some great red hair," Max answers.
The other streamer stopped for a second and looked at the camera, "Is she a natural red or like box die?"
"She's naturally a ginger. She's currently cooking because that's like her favorite thing to do aside from writing her novels," Lando says, still playing the game.
Rowan stands in the kitchen and for the life of her, cannot open the jar of condensed milk.
"Lando," She starts as she knocks on the door of the 'stream' room.
Lando stands and goes to the door and sees his girlfriend with her sad face and an unopened jar of condensed milk; Lando chuckles and grabs the jar and opens it for the girl, then she kisses his cheek and walks back to the kitchen.
Lando goes back to his stream, and the comment is going crazy about why he stopped in the middle of a round to go to the door.
"My girlfriend couldn't open a jar, and I just helped her; it wasn't long. It's fine," It may seem a little snippy, but he doesn't want a big deal made out of something he does for her because he just wants to help.
Lando stays on the stream for a little while longer before Rowan knocks again and says that dinner is done, to which he nods and tells the guys he has to go
Another thing that Lando promised is that while the two go to England to get a few more of Rowan's things, while Lando does some work at McLaren.
Another thing he wanted out of not yet wanting to share his girlfriend with the world, even if he does have to do so for her books.
Lando sits in the car and rests his head on the headrest, "Do we really have to do this?"
"Yes baby, you promised Max," Rowan says to him.
Lando looks at her and takes a moment before getting out of the car and then walks over to her side and opens the car door.
Rowan got out as Max came over, and he pulled the ginger into a hug.
"Ready?" He questions when he pulls away.
"No, I don't want to share," Lando whines as he pulls Rowan to him, and she tucks herself under his arm.
Max chuckles at the answer he got from Lando, and the two follow mate to where they are shooting the video.
"This your girlfriend?" One of the Quadrant members asks when they see the three.
"I thought she was going to be strawberry or box red, not actual ginger," A different member says.
"Not strawberry. Full, natural ginger," Rowan says as they get done speaking.
Lando chuckles at his girlfriend; he can't remember how many times she's said the same line whenever people see her hair color.
A/N: I would like to point out that I don't do Twitch, so let me know if I got something wrong. So, I have a quick question for those being tagged; what other drivers would you like to be tagged in that I have. There's Carlos, Max, Oscar, & Charles. What about F1 ships?
Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @hellothere9597
If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop
#lando norris#ln4#f1#formula 1#mclaren#lando norris x reader#lando imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris x oc#lando norris x you#lando x reader
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Never - Charles Leclerc
Words: 705
Summary: Charles finds out she’s never had an orgasm.
Note(s): Mentions/Talks of Sex, Bestfriends to Lovers, part of a kind of series that explores certain drivers finding out that reader has never had an orgasm.
Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund
“What?” She asks, smiling around the words as she catches Charles staring at her, his head propped by his hand.
“You are just very beautiful.”
She shakes her head with a small laugh, eyes falling back down to the coffee table covered in sheet music.
“You are.” He insists, giving her a nudge.
She looks at him from the corner of her eye. “I think you have to say that. I’m your best friend after all.”
He laughs, hand coming up to rub at his chest for a second. “I think Joris would have a problem with that. But I don’t have to say it.” Charles' face turns serious, though a smile is still pulling at his lips. “You are gorgeous. I still don’t know how you are alone.”
“Just,” she sighs, the inside of her lip catching between her teeth. “No one’s caught my eye.” She tells him, hoping he doesn’t catch the lie, but he does.
She can tell from the way he sits forward, nearly pitching off the couch in his hurry. “Someone has caught your eye.”
“No.”
“Someone has. Who? Tell me about them.”
“No.” She laughs, shaking her head. “It’s never gonna happen, alright? That’s just not in the cards for me.”
“C’mon, they are an idiot if they don’t feel the same way about you.”
Her lips press together as she swallows a harsh laugh. “That’s not it. I mean sort of,” she corrects. “But there’s a reason I don’t date and I don’t have one night stands and I don’t have relationships. I’m a nightmare, a horrible, lousy, stupid excuse of a woman.” The words are easy as they fall off her tongue, things she’s heard before. There’s more than wants to fall, but Charles is looking at her, horrified, and she winces. “I’m sorry, Charles. I just, I’m not interested.”
“Why would?” He pauses, brows furrowed, jaw starting to clench in anger. “Why would anyone say that to you, about you? You are not those things.”
“Not all of them.” She allows. “But a stupid excuse of a woman, absolutely.” She laughs.
He says her name and she stops laughing, her smile dimming.
“Charles, I’m not being mean to myself. I’ve come to accept it. There’s a certain something a good majority of people want from their partners, and I can’t deliver it.”
“Deliver what?”
She stands up with a laugh, shaking her head. “No. I said too much. I shouldn’t have entertained this any longer. New subject.”
He pulls her back down on the couch, uncaring of the way she protests, his eyes boring into hers. “Deliver what?”
She stares back at him, hoping that for once Charles Leclerc will know when to back down, but he doesn’t. “Orgasm.” She finally says and watches confusion spread across his face. “I can’t orgasm. I’m twenty-four and I’ve never cum once in my life. That,” she laughs. “Happens to be a bit of a turn-off or an ego bruiser.”
Charles looks at her, the confusion gone from his face and instead determination is there. “Then today will be the day you do.”
She rolls her eyes, scooting a bit away from him as she tries to ignore the way her heart seems to be beating double time and the burn that is starting between her thighs. “Very funny.”
“I mean it.”
“Charles.” She tries to continue but can’t. Not at the way he’s looking at her. It’s more than the set of determination lining his brow, the near glare in the squint of his eyes. It’s the combination with the set of his jaw and parted lips, the lean of his body into hers.
“Before,” he speaks, knowing she’s about to say he won’t be able to. “You say something about me not being able to. Let me try.” He then smiles, a giddy, disbelief filled thing. “After all I just did win Monaco.”
It makes her laugh, the comparison of him winning Monaco after seven years of trying, with her trying to achieve an orgasm for the same amount of time. “Are you saying you can break another curse?” She jokes.
“Monaco was never a curse and this,” his fingers dance across her covered thigh. “Isn’t either.”
#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc x areader#charles leclerc imagine#charles won Monaco so i speedran this
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Drider Mahito please mama I am begging on my hands and knees
The spider crawls forward, humming and tilting his head as he examines a few spots of his surroundings. A small bush here, a skittering critter over there, and of course a terrified bounding deer that’s trying to avoid the fate of the current one dangling and bleeding in the creature's mouth.
He’s so excited,the electricity thrumming over his skin. He wants to catch as many meals as he can, he’s sure if he catches the most then things will go just as planned!
Mahito was positive that all he needed to do was show he could hunt, gather, and track to be able to win your heart. He’s kept an eye on you for about a month now, watched you celebrate a holiday here and there, and was just in awe. You’re so intriguing. Most humans have boring and too bland of a life for him to care for, but you…You have a way about you. The way you carry yourself, the way you stand up to people despite their rank in your nest, the way you favor one thing yet despise another.
He wonders if you’re the kind to appreciate the beauties of eating one's family members. He could scoop up that pesky relative who questions too much, you seem to have an ire of sorts towards them.
Ah, maybe as a first courting sort of gift. For now he has to at least get his feet in the door!
Maybe you’d like that street cat as well? You cuddle the other ones though…mmm…No, best to leave it be. You humans have weird ways to show some creatures affection, and others horror and disdain.
Though, he supposes that's every creature.
Trudging around in the trees, he hums a small tune and waves to the other Driders and Nagas, finding their meals and their bones to chew on. Some wave with a smile, others move on with their eyes down or a soured look on their faces.
They’re smart. They see the markings that Mahito bears and know to stay a good distance. He has a reputation for mauling and using his venom just because some dare to look him in the eye. But that doesn't mean he’s a monster! What? He can’t have fun and play around?!
A crackle of leaves and twins makes everyone alert, and a wide, almost manic smile grows on Mahitos face. It's you! That scent, that heart beat, the heat he can see on your flesh-It’s you! Oh he can't wait! He can’t wait!
He scurries forward, blood and meat dripping down his chin and chest as he hurries toward you, pupils wide and wild as he manages to pinpoint exactly where you are. Ah! Now that he’s this close, he’s suddenly nervous!
But you look so pretty, so delicate, so easy to break and eat and devour if you were more of his prey….
Thankfully you’re his mate! Or, well, you will be! See, he isn’t keen on being told no to something he desperately wants. Be it food, territory, or a way to be with you every single day for the rest of his life.
You’ll accept, you’ll come home with him, learn his name and learn to stay inside at all times when he isn’t beside you. You’ll kiss and laugh and you’ll tell him how much you love him, how he’s such a good boy for you, how he’s such a hard working hunter who deserves your attention and love and-
He’s so lost in his excitement he doesn't hear the horrified screams you make as he drops the raw meat and bones at your feet. He just grins, a large tongue coming to swipe at his blood stained teeth as he waits like a dog for your answer and your praise. Surely you see how hard he’s worked on this right?!
Oh…you’re…scurrying away again?
Well that’s rather ungrateful don’t you think?
After everything he’s done?
His expression sours, but he doesn’t let you get away as he easily gets ahead of you, lifting you up with ease as you dangle in his grasp, begging for your life and terrified of the creature holding your life in his hands, literally.
“Insolent little wretch. I swear. I did all of this and you’re just going to turn away?!” he hisses, teeth coming close to nipping your skin as you feel your heart seize in your chest. Your voice, quivering and weak, speaks out as he dangles you higher, wanting to see the fear in your eyes for denying him your courtship.
“Please don’t kill me”.
What? What the fuck are you talking about?! Why would you assume-
It clicks. You see him as a predator on the hunt rather than a mate to be loved by. Huh. How did you ever come to that conclusion? It’s like you think he’d eat your bone marrow or something!
Then there’s a simple solution to this! He just holds you in his hand, tight and firm, carrying you and your wriggling body away to the dark edges of his territory as he explains how he’ll prove himself.
It’s easy! You just have to let him show you how much he wants you! Well, it's more of a need at this point. He went feral just thinking of you with some other mate, human or not. And if those Naga's want their tails intact they’ll know to keep their distance.
-Mommabean (I hope you enjoyed!)
#yandere drider#yandere Mahito#yandere jjk#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere exophilia#yandere x reader#yandere male#Mommabean
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lucky strike / CL16
Summary: Charles x American!female!reader - F1 comes to Sin City and you unexpectedly run into a certain someone.
Warnings: gambling, alcohol, cussing, use of pet names (A LOT), flirting, one moment of implied jealousy
Requested?: Sort of! Thank you to everyone who voted for Charles in the poll!
Author's Note: Charles won out in the poll, so here you go, everybody! (Of course I HAD to use The Charles Vegas Podium Picture). Also, I listened to Lucky Strike by Maroon 5 while writing.
one in a million ;
my lucky strike
Well, you thought the whole F1 thing was absolutely ridiculous. You couldn't care an ounce less about Formula 1, so you certainly weren't happy about all the complications of it coming to your city.
You would call yourself an all American girl, and you're proud of it. If any racing, NASCAR. Football is the sport with the brown ball you throw- NFL, not the white and black ball you kick. That's soccer. You have the greatest food, the greatest mix of cultures, the greatest weather. If you didn't know better, you'd say you have the greatest country, too.
You watched a Formula 1 race when you realized the whole Las Vegas Grand Prix thing was actual, and when you saw that (firstly) it was honestly pretty boring, and (secondly) the only American driver is basically the most sucky one, you decided it would be pretty hard to get into it.
You're a Vegas girl, and you're proud of it. You're actually from Los Angeles, California, but you moved to Vegas to chase your dreams and live the life you dreamed of a year ago with your boyfriend, and it was so worth it.
Now you identify yourself with Vegas even more than you do with the Los Angeles Rams, despite the fact that your boyfriend broke up with you seven months ago and left to go be a prodigal son in New York City.
You decided Vegas was perfect enough for your clever hand, and you'd continue to be a prodigal daughter right where you're at.
But now the Grand Prix is the newest thing, and you don't like it at all. All these people flooding in, like as if there's not already enough people. Just to watch some cars drive around in circles, closing up main roads? No, you're not into it.
Your girl friends all seem to think this is just the best thing, and you discuss it across the table with two of them. One says, "Honestly, the McLaren duo are the hottest."
"No way- Ferrari! Have you seen Charles Leclerc?" your other friend disagrees.
You snort in disbelief and say sarcastically, "How about neither? So you guys only care about this because the racers are hot? Give me a break."
"Well," one of your friends starts, crossing her arms across her chest, "They are hot. At first, I wasn't so sure, but, I mean, come on! Maybe we could get glimpses of them when they're in Vegas!"
"Or meet them!" your other friend pipes in.
You scoff. "Good luck with that. Aren't these guys self-focused millionaires with too much money for their own good? Probably all greedy idiots who hook up with every half-sexy girl who comes along. So if you're into that, sure, waste your time trying to meet some hot plutocrats, with the one percent chance you might get f*cked like crazy for a night before they forget about you and move back to their mansions across the world! F*ck, is race car driving even a real sport? It's f*cking driving cars. I could do that!"
Your friends don't really argue with you, because you're right. And clearly, they do only care about the hot racers, because you figure any real fan of the sport would argue with you.
Two days before the Strip is supposed to be closed up for the Grand Prix, you find yourself submerged in the vibrant energy of Wynn Las Vegas, the dazzling lights and sounds of the casino floor swirling around you. The scent of alcohol lingers in the air, a reminder of the drinks you've indulged in throughout the night.
You slip between two people to reach the roulette wheel, holding your newly bought chips, with money you've earned earlier in the night.
Bets are placed around the table over and over, as you earn more and more chips. You feel someone nudge your shoulder, and a cocky male voice comments next to you, "You're having a good night, huh?"
"Every night is a good night," you remark back, not even glancing up at the man talking with you. He seems to have some sort of accent that you can't place. Perhaps French?
Which means he's probably from Louisiana. Possibly Quebec.
Probably some rich idiot F1 fan who can afford to travel half way across the country for the Grand Prix.
You don't plan to even give him the light of day.
"Until it's not," he says as you watch the roulette wheel spin once more.
You smirk and feel his eyes on you as you collect more chips.
The game goes on, and you think he's gotten the message that you don't care to converse with him, because does shut up.
But now it's the last bet of the game. You take a sip from your glass and feel a stupid, risky streak in you.
Some idiot part of you that's drunk and wants to push her luck way too far.
You place a straight-up bet, all your chips on the number sixteen.
You can feel eyes on you, and the same man next to you from earlier says, "Are you stupid?"
You chuckle. "Possibly."
"You're going to lose all your-"
"No, I won't." You straighten your back, staring at the wheel. It's true, you've earned a lot of money throughout this game.
And honest, it is true that you're stupid.
But it's also true that for some reason, you're confident.
"So you're overconfident and risky? I like that," comments the guy next to you. "But you're going to lose all your money. All that good luck for nothing..."
"You'll see," you breathe, ignoring his little flirt. "It's going to land on sixteen."
"Sixteen, huh?" This man's hazel eyes sparkle, and something in you tells you that you've seen this guy's brown locks, bright dimples, and perfect stubble before.
You've seen him somewhere. Recently. Like some guy you could haven't been drunk with, but the memory is fuzzy.
But you weren't drunk with him.
Despite being sure you've seen this guy before, you're also sure you've never met him before, either.
"Yeah," you nod, looking away, staring as the roulette wheel begins spinning. "It's my lucky number."
You're not looking at him, but you can feel him grin next to you. "Your lucky number, huh? Just so happens, it's mine, too."
You snort, rolling your eyes. "Is that some lame attempt of a flirt?"
"No. It really is my lucky number." By his tone, you can tell that grin has downgraded to a smirk. "But if you'd like to see a lame attempt of a flirt, that's an option, too..." His voice lowers as you feel his arm snake around you, and his hand land on your waist.
You gently shove it off as the wheel begins to slow. You hold your breath, watching, this stupid French boy no longer even a fraction of your concerns. All focus is on your slight potential lucky strike.
And then the world stops as the wheel stops, too.
On sixteen.
And then it all comes flooding back. "Oh my God!" you squeal stupidly, covering your mouth as there's rounds of, "You've got to be kidding me," "No way," "It's impossible!" and "How lucky is this girl?"
You feel surges of shock and pride as you collect all your money. Once you've received it, after such luck, and earning a fortune, you decide you're going to have a drink. Or more than just one.
But when you turn, there's that guy again.
"What's up?" you ask, the grin on your face impossible to wipe off.
"How did you know it was going to stop on sixteen?" he questions, and he looks a little more handsome than he did before as this time he succeeds in taking your waist.
"Are you trying to pick my pocket?" you question warily, though, shoving his hand away.
"Not at all," he chuckles, "But you're a smart girl, aren't you? And I think I might be a lucky boy. Come on- I'll buy you a drink."
You snort. "No way, pretty boy! I can buy my own drink, after what just happened! How cocky are you?"
"Call me cocky, or call me rich, but either way, you're too sexy to have to pay for your own drink."
You scoff at this, but figure that you can't really let down an offer of free stuff. You'll be the first to admit you're greedy. Once of the biggest reasons why you gamble is because you want money- duh- and as much of it as you can get.
So soon, you're sitting at a table with this random guy, looking into his eyes, holding your drink in your hand. After barely a moment of hesitation, your curiosity finally gets to you, and you ask, "Who are you, anyway? I could have sworn I've seen you somewhere recently."
He gets a smug look on his face, which you don't like, before he says, "You really don't know?"
Your nose crinkles up in confusion, and for a second you feel ultra worried. Is this someone that I've met, that I should remember? Am I a terrible person for not knowing who this is...?
But then he says simply, "My first name is Charles. Charles Leclerc."
You stare at the taller individual, knowing you've heard that name, trying desperately to wrack your brain of it.
And then, suddenly, it hits you.
Loudly, in your head, in your friend's voice, in the exact tone she said it, 'No way- Ferrari! Have you seen Charles Leclerc?'
"Wait-!" you say in shock. You can see the satisfaction on the man's face, Charles, as you realize. "So, you're one of those F1 racers? Like, you race for the Ferrari team?"
He snorts and nods. "I'm surprised you didn't recognize me right away. Do you live here in Vegas?"
"Yeah," you say simply, taking a sip of your drink.
"So I take it you hate Formula 1, then? Because how else are you living in Vegas right now and don't know my name, or recognize my face?"
"You sound awfully prideful."
Suddenly, he smirks, and drags his finger across your jawline, pulling your face to look up at him in the process. "Maybe so. But clearly you're not so much better yourself, Miss Bet It All On Sixteen."
You cock an eyebrow at him and return his smirk with a challenging grin. "Sure, but I was right. I won what I wanted."
"Hmm... Well, what if I'm about to win what I want?"
"Oh, yeah? And what is it that you want?"
He leans in closer, so you can feel his hot breath tickle your ear as he utters simply, "You, baby."
You smirk. "We just met, buddy. I'm not that stupid."
"I think you're just playing hard to get."
"Or maybe it's just hard for you to get me," you counter.
"Well, I like your spunk. And your good luck. I think I might need a little bit more of that." He leans away a bit, and comments, "And I think I foresee a little bit more of luck in your future."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah," he smirks, leaning in closer. In barely any second, his lips meet yours, and though you know you should, there's no way you're pulling away now. He wraps his arm around you, urging you to lean into the kiss. You melt, letting him.
You don't know what it is.
But in this moment, you gently let your lips part, inviting his tongue to slip in between your lips, allowing yourself to, yes, make out with basically a stranger.
It wouldn't be the first time, but it also isn't something you do for fun whenever you feel.
When you finally force yourself to pull away, the first thing you breathe is, "How did you do that?"
He grins, and is clearly red in the face. But there's a look of shock on his face, too. As if his flirty cover was just confidence, and not because he gets tons of girls like this...?
Or maybe you're just reading too much into his expression.
Either way, he responds with, stroking your cheek, "No idea. Maybe I just have a way with you?"
You roll your eyes as you check your purse. No, he didn't pickpocket. He meant to kiss you. You stand up and say simply, "Well, I better get going n-"
"Sorry, what?" he suddenly snatches your arm back, pulling you back down to sit again with a surprised chuckle. "You just met a famous millionaire race car driver who bought you a drink after you won big money in roulette, let him make out with you, loved it, and now you're just going to casually walk off?"
You grin. "What? Do you think I was impressed by you? Think again, honey. Just because you drive cars fast and make ridiculous amounts of stupid money for it, and that you're insanely handsome- none of that means I'm any more impressed with you than I am with any other guys I meet on my night outs."
"Hm," he raises an eyebrow, and says, "What if you could get more from me, missy? Clearly, you're out for yourself and will do anything for a good deal. And you're f*cking sexy about it, too. So what if I had something else to offer you?"
You let yourself sit down at this, looking at him expectantly.
He smirks, clearly loving that he's 'won you over,' before saying simply, "Would like a free pass to the whole weekend, and a pass for the paddock?"
Your eyebrows scrunch together, and your eyes widen. "I- what?"
His smirk grows even bigger. "You heard me."
You inhale sharply, but cross your arms across your chest and come out sharply saying, "Unfortunately for you, I couldn't care less about Formula 1. In fact, I'm starting to dislike it a lot. But thanks for the offer."
His jaw drops, and his eyes practically pops out of his head, which gets a chuckle from you. For a moment, he's actually speechless, before he finally gets out, "Are you aware of the offer you just refused?"
You raise an eyebrow, not able to keep the cheeky grin off your face. "Probably not, but that's okay. Why, anyways, would you give a stranger such an opportunity in the first place? You probably have ulterior motives, and I think I can pretty much guess what they are, mister. You don't even know my name yet."
"Oh, God, you're right," he laughs, taking another sip of his drink. "Well, what's your name, princess?"
You roll your eyes, and tell him.
He grins. "It's been wonderful meeting you." He digs in the pocket of his light blue jeans, and pulls out a pen and a restaurant receipt. "I know you think you'll be able to forget me so easily, princess," he starts, scribbling something on the receipt, "but trust me- you'll be wanting this." He takes your hand and presses the receipt into it, before standing up just like that, and saying with a wave as he turns to walk off, "I'll talk to you later, angel."
You look down at the receipt to see a phone number scribbled on it in chicken scratch. But the numbers are clear. And though you walk out that night rolling your eyes at this Charles's boldness and cockiness, with an abundance of money you've earned that's a lot more worth the stupid grease-stained receipt, the moment you get back to your apartment, the first thing you intend to is putting that stupid number into your phone.
"This is stupid," you comment as you slide into the backseat, next to Charles.
He just rolls his eyes. "You won't be saying that by the end of this experience. Besides, you were the one who decided to text me, like I said you would. You were just playing hard to get."
You scoff. "Oh, shut up."
"You look lovely, by the way," he comments in a lower voice. "I like that skirt." You look down at yourself. You're wearing a matching crop top shirt and short skirt, your sunglasses holding your hair back away from your face, and brown sandals.
"Thanks," you snort, crossing your arms and looking out the window, turning your gaze away from the Monégasque driver. (Yes, you did, despite yourself, look him up last night, just to know who the heck this guy even is.)
(You also were sure to look up his salary.)
(Ridiculous.)
(But also intriguing.)
Soon enough, before you know it, you're walking alongside him, about to enter the 'paddock.'
Makes it sound like a bunch of horses racing.
But when you're there, surrounded by it, in the moment, you don't think rude comments like that.
You stop, taking in the high life atmosphere. The revving car noises, the lights of The Strip on the 'racetrack,' the crowds, the music, the richness, and the challenge.
Your breathing falters, and your heart beat quickens as your hand involuntarily finds Charles's wrist and grips it as you gasp, "It's... extraordinary."
You glance to Charles's face to see him softly grinning. His hand slips down to hold yours as he comments, "You seemed like the type of girl to love it."
Your smile widens. "I've been here so many times. On The Strip. But... it's not the same. How did they do it?"
He begins walking, pulling you along by your hand as you look around. "That's just Formula 1 for you. There's nothing in the world quite like it, Y/n."
He leads you by the hand toward the Ferrari garage. Once you're there, he says, "Want to meet my teammate, Carlos?"
"Don't know who Carlos is, but sure..." you say vaguely, taking in the large piece of machinery- the Formula 1 car- in front of you.
He chuckles. "You're f*cking adorable," he murmurs, before leading you away to see Carlos.
He's a well-built man with fluffy dark hair, tan skin, big brown cow eyes, and stubble. Pretty much looks like exactly how you'd imagine a Formula 1 driver to look.
He nods respectfully. "Hey, Charles," he says, and shakes your hand with a friendly wink. "This your new girlfriend?"
You look up to see Charles smirk. "Not yet."
One of Carlos's thick, dark eyebrows cocks up, and the suggestion of an amused smirk travels on his lips for a second. "Ah, I see."
"Charles!" you snap, your eyebrows scrunches together. "Not ever."
"Well, we'll see about that. So far, I've been the right one, now, princess, haven't I?"
"Pfft. I was right about sixteen, wasn't I?"
He rolls his eyes as Carlos says with a chuckle, "Well, it will sure be interesting to see how this plays out," before moving on with his life.
Charles takes the time to show you around, and halfway through the tour, you blurt suddenly, "So, this is all the Italian team and stuff. Isn't there an American team?"
"Hmmm," Charles snorts as his eyebrows travel farther up and he fights off a seemingly somewhat mocking smirk. "There is."
"Why don't you show me them? Don't they have an American driver? Like, Carlos is Italian, right? Isn't it protocol or somethin'? Anyway, isn't it called Williams, the American team, or something? Some guy named Logan something that's an American racer on there-"
At this, Charles can't seem to hold it together anymore, and doubles over laughing, essentially, at you.
"What?!" you demand indignantly.
"You really are clueless!"
"I-"
"Alright, alright, Y/n. Haas is the American team. They don't have an American driver- German and Danish. No, Carlos is not Italian; he's from Spain. Williams is British, and yes, Logan Sargeant races for Williams, and he is American. About the only thing you got right."
You roll your eyes with a shrug. "I told you I don't give a damn about this stupid sport."
"Whatever you say, Miss Starry Eyes."
So, first Charles takes you to Haas, where you learn, surprisingly, that not all the racers are young hotshots like Charles and Carlos at least seem to be. They're friendly enough there, but really don't care much to give you any of their time, so then Charles suggests to go to the Williams garage and see if there's Logan to bother. You agree to that, so soon, you're entering Williams.
As soon as you see Logan, you know he's the American. You can see it in his stance. You can see it in his golden blond slightly sweeped hair, gray blue eyes, and strong jawline. "That's Logan, isn't it?"
"How'd you know?"
You shrug, breaking off from Charles to Logan. "Hey! You're the only American 'round here?!" you ask with a friendly grin.
"Huh?" he asks, looking up, in the most United States of America way. "Oh, hi," he says in what you perceive as dumbly, with a friendly smile. Ah, that's more like it. None of these posh Monacan boys and hot Spanish men- this guy is just like home sweet home!
You can practically hear the eagles cawing over the Rocky Mountains!
"You're Logan Sargeant?"
He nods. "I am. And you are...?"
"Just some Vegas girl dragged here by Charles."
"Ah... so you know him?"
"Well, now, unfortunately, yes."
His eyebrows furrow, but he chuckles at the same time. Though this guy isn't nearly as handsome or charming as Charles, there's something about him you like a bit more-
Suddenly, a hand is on your waist, and hot breath says in your ear, "Got to be getting back to Ferrari now. Come on with me?"
You blush and nod. "Right, Charles."
You have no idea what to think of him.
"Podium?! Uh- is a podium good?!" you ask, eyes wide as Charles brings it home in second.
"Yeah, yeah, it's good!" some guy you don't know wearing red near you says.
"Oh- Alright, well- That's good, I suppose!" you respond a little manically.
As soon as Charles as the chance, he finds you. He still has champagne on his race suit and his face is glistening with sweat, and there's no way you can deny it- he's sexy. When he reaches you, he wraps his arms around you, and his stunning eyes seem to burn into you. He can't fight the grin off his face as he says lowly, "Get why my lucky number is sixteen, baby girl?"
"Ah, stop with that," you snap, your voice cracking. You don't know, but this seems- all this seems-
Way too important.
You reach up to touch the number sixteen on his hat, before taking it off his head and slipping it on your own, backwards, on impulse.
He grins. "You can keep it. Not like you'll need a keepsake. You won't forget me."
You bite your lip, giving a quick nod, still studying his handsome face. Your eyes linger on his light pink lips, which arch into a perfect cupid's bow, as you murmur absently, "You seem pretty confident about that, huh?"
"Of course I do. Looks like you might be my little good luck charm, hm? Can't be letting you run away from me, can I?"
"Hm. Well, we'll see about that."
"Still playing hard to get?"
"Not playing. I just am hard to get."
"Whatever you say, darling," he comments with a shrug, walking off.
The French accent is pretty sexy.
Your eyes flutter open, and the first thing you see are the big earnest eyes of Charles Leclerc, staring back into your eyes. "Morning sunsh-"
Your immediate reaction is to scream and promptly slap him across his pretty face.
He grunts as his hand flies to his cheek to cover it up, and he says, "Hey, hey, calm down!"
But your eyes scan the room. It's clearly a hotel room. There's only one bed: the one you and Charles are laying in right at this moment. You're wearing a large black T-shirt and big blue gym shorts very tightly tied to fit your waist. Charles is dressed in a grey hoodie and jeans with a white T-shirt underneath, his regular jewelry, and white sneakers. So clearly, he's already showered and gotten dressed. He smells like his rich cologne, and his hair is all washed and fluffy and clean. If you weren't in a slight panic right now, you'd have wondered if you could touch his hair and feel how soft it is.
But!
As you're about to gasp out questions, Charles sits up and gently sets his hand on top of yours. You become aware of the pounding in your head as you bite your lip nervously. Charles looks at you earnestly, and says calmly, "Hey, you don't have to worry. It's okay."
"What happened?" you exhale.
"Nothing," he soothes. "We went out. You got more drunk than any of us though you should. I didn't know where you lived, so I took you to my hotel room. Gave you clothes to change into, and we went to sleep. Nothing more."
You swallow an anxious lump in your throat. "How do I know I can trust you? Please, just be honest with me. I won't be mad. You didn't know any bet-"
"I didn't do anything. We didn't do anything. Okay?" he leans in closer, and reaches to cup your cheeks in his hands. "'Kay? Can you just trust me?"
You bite your lip, but slowly nod. "I suppose that's the only thing I can do."
Over six months later, you stand on the boat, staring out at the Mediterranean Sea, smelling the salty breeze in the air, feeling content, wearing a loose button down, light blue jean shorts with a brown belt, your slew of bracelets, white sneakers, and a headband holding back your hair.
Suddenly, Charles is up next to you. "Hey, princess." For months, you've had what you stubbornly call a 'situationship,' whilst Charles calls you his girlfriend.
Because you love Vegas more than you love Charles (or at least that's what you like to say), you refused to leave when Charles did. You like taking risks. Just not the 'travelling halfway across the world for a hot guy' kind of risks.
But you stayed in touch. Charles made sure of that.
Well, he meant it when he said he'd make sure you'll never forget him.
But then Formula 1 came back to the States, to Miami, and you knew you'd have to make the trip. The flirty comments and romantic tension thick enough to cut ensued as soon as you and Charles set eyes upon each other, like as if it hadn't been six months or so since you'd last seen each other last.
It just felt like-
Somehow fate is involved.
Well, when Charles invited you to the Monaco Grand Prix, that was an offer you felt you couldn't let down.
And, boy, was that the best descision of your life.
To see Charles win his home race like that, and to be there? Just thinking about it now gives you goosebumps. Charles had wrapped his arms around you after the race, his eyes a little damp, and you felt something more.
Like he really cared.
If you didn't know better, you'd say it was like he really loved.
Loved you.
But, no. Of course not. That can't be.
Can it?
Well, all night you partied. You were in on the fun. You also made sure to pay a visit to the Monte Carlo casino, as you obviously must.
You had amazing luck, once again.
On this thought, as you feel Charles approaching from behind you, you comment into the wind, "You know, I'm starting to think you're my lucky charm, honey."
He chuckles, coming up next to you. "Oh, yeah? That's what I said six months ago when I first met you, you know. I've been starting to think the same thing about you."
You snort. "Maybe so, Monaco race winner."
He smirks, and you can feel the pure joy radiating off him. He slips his hand into yours as he murmurs, "I was so lucky to meet you."
I smirk. "I am pretty awesome."
He rolls his eyes, but squeezes your hand. "So, do you like it here in Monaco?"
You nod vigorously. "Gosh, Charles, it's amazing."
"Better than Vegas?"
"Well- I don't know if anything is better than Vegas..."
He leans in closer and speaks lower. "Well, would Monaco be better if your good luck charm just so happens to reside here?"
"Hm..." you smirk, flushing a bit. "I'd have to think about that, prince."
"Yeah," he nod, his tone softer. "Why don't you."
There's some silence, as you watch the sun begin to set, reflecting off the sparkling water.
Charles leans even closer to you, his hands gliding around your waist, pulling you towards him. He leans down, gazing deeply into your eyes. Then that stupid flirty grin appears on his face again. "F*cking gorgeous you are, one in a million. I struck lucky with you. My lucky strike."
He closes the distance between you, his soft lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. The heat of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine, igniting a spark between you as your tongues dance together in a sensual embrace. Connected.
Maybe it's not fate.
But it is most certainly luck.
And in this moment, with the lips of the winner of Monaco sucking on yours, you feel like the one who struck it lucky.
#sports-on-sundays#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagines#f1 one shot#formula 1#formula one#formula1#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x you#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfiction#f1 2023#f1 2024#f1 blurb#f1 drivers#f1 fandom#f1 fic#f1 fics#f1 fluff#f1 grid x reader#f1 racing#f1 scenario#f1 scenarios#forza ferrari#ferrari#f1 oneshot#f1 oneshots
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Bridgerton shade of blue
Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
The Viscount is set on finding a wife this season, and you are trying again for your second season. While Anthony is dealing with trials between Edwina and Kate Sharma, you are dealing with trials of your own. Benedict Bridgerton is ever present in your life, but your pursuit to find a husband must come first. Society is ever so exhausting.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season Two
Chapter Twenty One - The one who sparkles
The next day, you find yourself at the Bridgerton house. Madame Delacroix is there with fabrics, so Violet may choose one for Eloise. Eloise could not care less about fabrics as she reads away on the sofa.
Francesca plays the piano beautifully in the background. You're standing by the piano watching her. She smiles as she plays, lost in her music. You loved that about Francesca. She was so different from her siblings.
Anthony was reading by the window quietly. He hadn't spoken a word since you got here. Not to you or his family.
Elosie and Anthony share a shirt discussion about ladies and gentlemen. Eloise finds all gentlemen a bore, and Anthony doesn't believe ladies can dance properly. His poor toes. He had spent all night dancing with no such luck as to finding his ideal wife.
Hyacinth makes a comment about how she thinks Eloise would be a wonderful diamond. Eloise looks at her youngest sister in her face and says, "I despise you."
They all chuckle.
Violet chooses the fabric she likes best, and Madame Delacroix packs her things. You don't even notice as she leaves that Benedict enters, greeting her fondly. The conversation is short, however, as Benedict's eyes land on you.
Madame Delacroix leaves.
Francesca finishes her piece on the piano and smiles at you when you clap softly. "Wonderful, Francesca. Simply, wonderful."
"Thank you."
Francesca leaves the room quietly, and you find a seat to occupy. Benedict, having been turned by Delacroix, decides to make his way over to you, but Anthony calls for him. Benedict sighs and makes his way to his brother with his sketchbook in hand.
"Are you and the modiste still, uh, making a stitch?" Anthony asks.
"Apparently not. Have you found a wife yet? Or are you planning to offend every girl until there are none left? Is mother aware?"
"Aware of what?" Violet asks, hearing them.
"I'm off to deal with our solicitor," Anthony states. "Have fun with your pretty pictures, brother."
You watch Anthony leave. Violet follows him.
You get up and take the seat Anthony was just in. You lean across the table slightly and look at Benedict.
"You're not playing with her anymore?" You ask, teasing him.
"What are you talking about?"
"Madame Delacroix."
"You know?" He asks, completely horrified by the thought.
"Yes."
"How?"
"Anthony told me. I'm not sure why. Who you fool around with is your business, not mine. You Bridgerton boys certainly keep yourself entertained." You chuckle.
"You seem rather calm about this."
"Why shouldn't I be? I'm not naive, Benedict." You glance at the others. "I'm aware of what some people do."
Benedict is stunned into silence as he stares at you. Seems there is more to you than he first assumed.
"It was just some fun," he says softly.
"I don't care." You tell him. "Do what you want, Benedict."
The smile you give him doesn't offer him much comfort.
At the next ball, the queen was expected to choose her diamond of the season. All ladies in white and gold were presented before her before moving alone. You and your mother curtsied. The queen barely glanced at you.
You both walk on.
"She did not look impressed," you commented quietly.
"She never does," your mother responds.
You sigh softly and stand off to the side. You watch people dance. Spotting the Sharma ladies, you watch them approach the queen and curtsy to her.
They walk away quite quickly. You're not sure what the queen had said, but Lady Mary Sharma didn't seem too happy.
"May I have this dance?"
You turn and find yourself face to face with a rather handsome gentleman. You smile politely and take his hand, letting him guide you to the floor.
Lord Baxtor was a friendly gentleman. He had a dashing smile and seemed very pleased to be dancing with you.
"I saw you at Lady Danbury's soiree," he says.
"Oh? I do not recall meeting you."
"No, I think not. You spent most of the evening rather close to Mr Bridgerton's side."
"Oh... Yes. I must apologise. The first ball of the season, I always find rather daunting. I find comfort in being close to friends," you tell him.
"Yes, I must agree with you. You looked beautiful that night, as you do tonight."
You smile. "Thank you. You look very dashing tonight."
He smiles.
As you both dance, you don't notice Bridgerton's arriving. Violet guides Eloise over to the queen, followed by the two eldest sons.
"Tell me, brother, is there anyone here you haven't rejected?" Benedict teases Anthony.
Anthony does not look amused.
"You're the artist. Do you see anyone remotely inspiring?"
Benedict automatically finds himself looking in your direction despite not knowing you were there moments ago.
"We shall have our diamond tonight, and I shall have a wife," Anthony declares.
The greet the queen.
Eloise manages to make the queen laugh quite loudly with a comment about emeralds.
They bow and leave.
"If the queen, in fact, names Eloise the diamond, who will you marry then, brother?" Benedict asks.
"Hush, you."
The dance comes to an end, and Lord Baxtor escorts you off the floor. You smile at him. He lets go of your hand slowly, almost reluctantly, but he is a gentleman. You watch him walk away.
This seems like a promising start, at least.
You spot Benedict across the room, and he smiles at you. You return his smile. You would go over to him, but the fanfare plays and realise the queen is about to choose her diamond of the season.
You wait with the other to see who she will choose.
"Your presence is noted, and your queen most appreciative. Allow it to now be my honour to present you the season's diamond."
The room is quiet apart from a few whispers.
"Miss Edwina Sharma."
The room fills with applause. You watch the sisters who both smile. You are happy for them. Edwina is elegant, beautiful, has a charming smile, and seems to be a very wonderful person all around.
She will certainly have her hands full within the ton.
You don't notice Benedict, who comes up beside you.
"Disappointed?"
You look up. "Hardly."
"Though, you do have an admirer, it seems."
You follow Benedict's gaze to find Lord Baxtor watching you from across the room. You smile and turn away shyly.
"Then you must make sure to keep your distance, Benedict. I don't want to scare away any potential suitors."
Benedict gazes at you with a slightly confused look. He's not sure what you mean by your comment, but he doesn't respond to it. All he sees is you looking at the other gentleman with a soft smile.
Anthony takes Edwina for a dance around the room, where he is no doubt questioning her preferences.
Kate Sharma seems very unhappy to see them together.
You, however, have a splendid evening. When Benedict realises he is not holding your attention for the night, he leaves. Lord Baxtor wastes no time in coming over to talk to you.
You do not leave his side the rest of the night.
The next morning, you sit in your drawing room with your embroidery. Tea is sitting on the table beside you, and your mother is watching the window. She will hate it if you point out how obvious she is being. With wvery gentleman she sees pass the house she gets excited, only to discover them going down the street to another.
You find it amusing. Your mother looked forward to the next season. She took great joy in all the chaos society provided. You do so adore her when she is like this.
"Is there still time?" You mother asks, coming over to the couches.
"Yes, ma'am." The butler replies.
Your mother sighs and looks around the room. She hoped she had made the house comfortable enough for visitors. She was keen to help impress a suitor for you.
There is a knock at the door, and your mother clutches the armrest beside her with a sharp gasp. The butler leaves to answer the door, and you chuckle at the way your mother begins to fuss.
The butler returns. "A visitor, ma'am."
"Let them in." Your mother stands.
You put your embroidery down and stand up alongside her. You wait a few moments and then the vistor enters. You smile.
"Lord Baxtor."
He bows his head. "My lady."
Your mother smiles from ear to ear and excuses herself to the other side of the room to watch from there.
You invite Lord Baxtor to sit with you. You both take your seats and smile at one another.
"Hello."
"Hello," he chuckles.
"I was no expecting any callers."
"No?"
"I expected them all to be with Miss Sharma this morning," you confess.
"Though she is beautiful to be certain, and I'm sure a wonderful lady, I find myself wishing to spend more time in your presence."
You blush softly as you look at him.
"I haven't stopped thinking about our dance last night," he tells you.
"Oh?"
"Have you... perhaps thought of me?"
"Yes. I must admit I have."
He adjusts his position on the sofa and looks at you rather serious. "I must ask, Bridgerton will not likely be an issue, will he?"
"Why should he be an issue?"
"As much as I love a challenge, I do not wish to be up agaiant a Bridgerton, of all men."
"He is a friend of mine, but should you wish to see where this goes, a can assure you, Benedict Bridgerton will not be a problem."
Lord Baxtor smiles. "Good. Then can I hope to escort you to the races this afternoon?"
You smile. "I would be delighted."
Your mother watches with keen interest as you used this gentlemen seem to get along quite nicely. It was a promising match if she had ever seen one.
@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333
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The day I swapped bodies with Kyle Walker was the best day of my life.
I'll start from the beginning. I was bored with my life. As much as I tried to improve it. I was going to the gym, thereapy, hanging out with friends and family. The lot. The only thing getting me through is the thought of Kyle Walker. I know he is not the most attractive man on earth. But to me, he's handsome. Whenever I'm down. I always think of him. How he always seems confident. I've met him a few times, and he's always really friendly.
I decided to go to an england game, and low and be hold, Kyle Walker was one of the players. I saw him train before the match. There and then, I had a thought. "What if I was Kyle Walker? What if we swapped bodies?". Once I regained my wear abouts. I realised I was on the pitch. I had a ring on one of my fingers. And some tattoos. They seemed familiar. But I have never been married, and I have no tattoos. Let alone on my hands. I put my hands to my face. I have a beard. I didn't have a beard a couple of minutes ago. I look down and see I'm wearing a yellow bib. Then I noticed I was wearing a blow sports shirt. Blue shorts. And football shoes. Then Jack Grealish came over and asked, "Kyle. Are you OK? We need to get back into the changing room now." Did Jack Grealish really talk to me? Did he call me Kyle? I thought. Then I looked up to where I was sitting and I saw my body. Having the same thoughts of how it got there. Then it hits me. I'm in Kyle Walkers body. I started walking with Jack. To the changing room. I don't get how he walks. Let alone run. His junk is massive. It's like it's got its own mind.
I played the whole game. No one suspected a thing. I'm passing the ball. Encouraging the team. I know when i walked to the changing rooms earlier, kyles junk was noticeable. But when I was running as Kyle. All I was feeling was his junk. Hitting my legs. It makes me horny. But the 1st half was amazing. During the half-time break, everyone congraglate me on doing well. Comments like "Kyle, you seem more relaxed" and "Kyle, you seem to be more on it today." Dont know why they are saying them things. I admire Kyle and think he's really good. But I'm taking all the compliments. The second half was even better. I had the ball a lot. Jack scored a goal. Harry Kane scored a couple. The other team scored the same amount of goals. But in the 89th minute, I scored a goal. I scored. I can't believe it. I scored a goal for England. But everyone thinks Kyle Walker did. But I know the facts.
The next day, Jack and I did a clip for England's social media. It was a laugh. It was like I knew Jack my whole life. He is helarious. Once we done this and went training. Jack and I went to the pub. He is a total lad. It's amazing.
After a week of being in Kyle Walkers body. I'm slowly getting used to walking around with his huge junk inbetween my legs. His strong abs as my own. His stort hair. Being called Kyle or Kyle Walker. His huge tattooed arm, as mine. So we have a photo shoot. I decided to cross my arm and stand confident. Then to look straight at the camera. The photographer took the photo. I looked at the photo. I never felt so confident in a photo, in my whole life.
We didn't win the competition but I have had so much fun. So many memories. But I'm happy that I done it as Kyle Walker. So I went back to his team. I went to Manchester City. As Kyle Walker. Walking around as Kyle Walker. Amazing.
I helped my team. I scored goals. I assisted with some goals. I trained. I helped with other their training. I motivated the team. All worth it. As we won the trophy. I was really exited. I helped Manchester City win. I have proved myself as Kyle Walker. I grabbed a flag and ran across the pitch
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Wolfstar and Anti-Wolfstar
So, as promised, I'm gonna get on everyone's bad side now:
The Wolfstar Fandom
I totally get why people who don't like the ship are annoyed with how popular it is. I am a wolfstar shipper and let me tell you something: I, too, am annoyed. Because part of the Wolfstar fandom seems to think that James and Sirius's friendship cannot coexist with romantic Wolfstar, so they play it down. Suddenly, Remus is Sirius's go-to person, suddenly Remus is the one who gets Sirius like no other, and Sirius runs to Remus when he runs away from his parents. James is reduced to some comedic side character without real importance next to the soulmates Remus and Sirius. (And James and Remus's friendship also gets played down). That massively annoys me because one of the reasons I love Wolfstar so much is that I feel it only adds to the love between the Marauders without taking anything away from James and Sirius, because they're up there anyhow, untouchable. So don't you dare touch them!
Besides, I don't think it's necessary, because romantic Jily can also coexist with James and Sirius being the closest of friends.
The Anti-Wolfstar Fandom
So I get all the frustration and the anti-Wolfstar posts (not talking about the latest post I engaged with though, that didn't feel all that anti), and that's fine. You don't have to like the ship. But I draw the line where the hate for the ship seeps into the depiction of their platonic friendship.
We don't have to argue about James and Sirius being the bestest of friends. But I feel that Wolfstar being so popular, and playing down James and Sirius's friendship, led to the anti parts of the fandom playing down Remus and Sirius's friendship - as some sort of counter reaction. Like now there's some resentment for Remus's character.
Remus and Sirius were close friends as teenagers and this is a hill I will die on (Remus and James were too, but this is about anti-Wolfstar, so I'm going to focus on Remus and Sirius). I really don't get how people can think otherwise. We got 'Snape's Worst Memory' and the information about the prank, and that's apparently enough to convince people they weren't really close as teenagers because how could Sirius have done that if they were?
Well... Sirius being dismissive of other people's emotions isn't reserved for Remus. He does it with James with that sarcastic remark after Lily turned him down before a bunch of bystanders, which James clearly hadn't taken well ('Reading between the lines I'd say she thinks you're a little conceited, mate'). He does it with Harry ('Personally, I'd have welcomed a dementor attack.'), he can even be deliberately mean to Harry ('You're less like your father than I thought'). Yet we don't see anybody questioning his devotion to Harry (obviously Harry was more important to him than Remus, we don't have to argue about that).
The truth is, both the prank and Sirius's 'I'm bored... wish it was full moon' are objectively insensitive. But the prank wasn't a big deal in canon and I think we're supposed to think the full moons, too, weren't - at least after they had become Animagi. Because Remus himself says in PoA his transformations were 'the best times of his life' (I'm not completely buying that but I think it's how he sold it, being so grateful that his friends had become Animagi for him and that he had stopped hurting himself at least). They planned 'next month's adventure' and so on. So I think Remus acted as if everything was fine in regards to the full moons (and his 'You might' was some passive-aggressive comment referring to the prank rather than the full moons in general). I really think we put too much weight on both of those things. But it doesn't really matter anyhow, because:
In PoA, they - Remus and Sirius - show such a deep level of trust and respect for one another that it's obvious they had to have been close friends as teenagers (not as close as James and Sirius though before someone thinks I'm implying that. I'm not).
Because where is this supposed to have come from? They didn't see each other for over twelve years (and before that Sirius thought Remus was a spy ready to sell out James). Yet Sirius lets himself be swayed by Remus not to kill Peter, although up to this point he had acted like the mad mass murderer he allegedly was. I've laid this all out before, so I'm not gonna repeat all the details, but he allowed Remus to take the lead, they checked for each other's reactions, they communicated nonverbally. And that's all true whether you see romantic Wolfstar or not. This is because they have some base with each other already, something they had built before Sirius's imprisonment. To me, this means they have to have been close at some point before.
Being close is always a matter of definition, of course. If you claim someone has to know everything there is to know about a person to be considered close to them, then, arguably, they weren't close. That's not my understanding, though
Do I think Sirius sobbed his heart out on Remus's shoulder about what happened at his parents' house? No. Definitely not. Do I think Remus opened up about how he really felt about his lycanthropy? No. Do I think Sirius - and to some extent James too, tormenting Snape after the prank had happened - were dismissive of Remus's emotions? Yes.
But I don't think that means they weren't close. They obviously cared for one another (becoming Animagi?), they cared for each other's opinion (Sirius listening to Remus in PoA and Remus having the power to make Sirius and James feel ashamed of themselves as teenagers already when they were both headstrong and arrogant - I think that's a huge deal).
To be honest I don't get the urge to rank their friendships and compare them all the time. I mean, I see where it's coming from with part of the wolfstar fandom being delusional - defending James and Sirius's friendship in turn, pulling up evidence why the two are the real deal. And I agree. But people are capable of having more than one close friend and friendships evolve with time.
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For some reason i feel like we don't talk enough about Hazel and Nico swords
I mean, the fact that bettwen the swordsmans 2 of the shortest characters are the ones with longer weapons is just crazy
This is not even a joke, Nico and Hazel swords are 3ft-blade-only, or in other words, that doesn't count the handle, that must've around the 7,8inch for hazel's spatha and 3.9 inch For Nico's sword ( which is something similar to a Kopis or a Falcata)
And something wild is that in Nico's case he has that thing since he was ELEVEN ( or twelve if we pretend that his age un hoo makes sense) that mf sword must be ¾ of his body at the time
Also, i feel that we need to make them justice and give those things a god name and maybe a new sword to hazel, because those are the most "average" weapons between the big tree kids, Thalia has a replica of aegis and a spear that takes form of a mace canister alongside the standar silver bow's of the hunt that also was bianca's weapon ( and that are pretty cool in my opinion), Percy has Riptide that doesn't need an introduction, and Jason used to have aegis and now has Juno's Gladius both being 2x1 weapons capable of being both a sword and a javelin
And then these two swords are just... Swords, at best Nico's is interesting due to how unhinged is the stygian iron (and that he seems capable of disappear and apear it of thin air/ shadows) but that's all, and hazel's is just boring, is just a standard weapon of the legion without anything special ( a completely nonsense since that she's one o the main characters of heroes of Olympus)
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The Thief and the Rake - Chapter 3
The Thief and the Rake
Chapter 3: Picked Like a Rose
Read on AO3
Thank you to @witch-and-her-witcher, @howlingcaptaincommando, and @wilde-knight for the encouragement and beta reads!
Summary:
Tea and a gargle of salt water, her mother’s voice lectured in Nesta’s mind, a queasy feeling creeping in. And don’t you dare falter for a moment. The phantom tingle of pain in Nesta’s thumb reminded her how horrified the Archeron matriarchs would be at any show of fatigue, of any sign they weren’t perfect and unflappable in front of this grand audience.
Nesta and Elain do their best to entertain the novel and curious gentlemen at their first ball. But the arrival of a familiar face threatens Nesta's best laid plans. Good thing Feyre is around to cause some chaos.
The Elucien is strong in this chapter! This is baby's first Elucien and as I've said...they are excited to take over. It's going to be interesting because they're in a much different dynamic than canon. So please cheer me on and give me your thoughts :)
A snippet of the chapter under the cut!
• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– •
Nesta’s cheeks ached with the strain of smiling. So much damn smiling for these tittering gentlemen. By the wide eyes of the one standing next to her, she was ceasing to do a convincing job.
Mr. Harding — the one next to her was Mr. Harding. And the blond one with the impressive sideburns was Mr. Blevins, and currently monopolizing Elain was Lord Rutley who had atrocious manners and seemed to be an inveterate gossip.
None of them were familiar to her now, but she was memorizing their names, their clothing, all the little tidbits they dropped as they stumbled over their feet to charm the lovely and mysterious Miss Elain.
Elain had danced five dances, and was engaged for three more. Nesta made sure to make pointed suggestions to her suitors about refreshments and breaks and made a mental note to find them good seats in the dining hall.
The gentlemen around her erupted into laughter and Nesta’s cheeks ached again with her smile.
“Oh but Miss Elain,” Harding was admonishing, all teeth and a flush Nesta thought had been from the room but was starting to suspect it was the wine, “Surely you’re not the kind of woman who would skip the opera for a silly play? I have box seats at Der Freischütz this week, and you simply must —”
“Harding, listen to yourself. The girl doesn’t need you dragging her to some musty German tragedy. Miss Elain, there’s a very modern pantomime at Covent Garden, and I think you and your sisters would just love it —”
Nesta saw the wearied look in Elain’s eye, the silent pleading. It was their first ball, and they knew too little of everyone to refuse an invitation. She would have to ascertain Elain’s feelings on sideburns when they were back in the carriage.
Lord Rutley cut through the conversation with a bored wave of his hand. ”I wonder what Scrivener would have to say about this ball. Too many gentlemen, and watered-down wine?”
”Scrivener?” Elain asked. Nesta noticed the hoarseness in her voice. None of them were accustomed to this sort of entertaining.
Tea and a gargle of salt water, her mother’s voice lectured in Nesta’s mind, a queasy feeling creeping in. And don’t you dare falter for a moment. The phantom tingle of pain in Nesta’s thumb reminded her how horrified the Archeron matriarchs would be at any show of fatigue, of any sign they weren’t perfect and unflappable in front of this grand audience.
Blevins and Harding exchanged a glance, but Lord Rutley smirked, his eyes assessing Nesta. “Oh, you are new in town. Just be aware we’re being watched. There’s a penny paper with a gossip columnist, they report on all the ton’s scandals.”
”People really care so much for that sort of thing?” Nesta asked.
”Oh, indeed,” Blevins said. “It’s hard to get a copy, they sell out so fast. But I wouldn’t expect you ladies to enjoy it. What with the sedition and — well.”
Elain and Nesta locked eyes while Blevins let out what one might call a tither.
Such a strangely contained gesture from a man with teeth like a horse. The gentlemen were quickly writing themselves off her eligibility list. Their requirements may be vain but Nesta wanted to at least be able to sit in the company of her brother-in-law for a meal or two. She scrambled for a polite way to get them into another conversation.
“Blevins, please. Not in front of the ladies.”
“What’s so scandalous that has you gentlemen blushing?” Nesta asked. Annoyed.
Lord Rutley’s cat-like smirk had thoroughly removed him from Nesta’s list of eligible men. She made note to be busy if he asked to call on Elain.
“Well you see, they also publish romance serials. Only this one has the society and literati all in a riot. Not only is it terribly salacious, the main character is a woman of the ton. One with quite wanton morals and a less than stellar opinion of her conquests.”
Nesta smiled, letting a bit of the wolf show. “How terribly improper.”
“Rutley,” hissed Harding. “You shouldn’t speak of such things in front of Miss Elain.” A stretch of silence. “And Miss Archeron, of course.”
“Oh,” Elain said, blinking uncertainly. Nesta could see her struggle to find a way back to more polite conversation.
Lord Rutley’s eyes wandered to Nesta again. “Apologies, ladies. As Mr. Blevins said, it is not a publication that elevates the mind.”
Nesta opened her mouth to respond when she was interrupted.
”Miss Archeron, Miss Elain.” The deep voice was still traveling through her consciousness when Nesta saw Elain’s eyes go wide.
When she turned she saw a flash of red hair.
Lucien Vanserra bowed deeply, rising with eyes only for Elain. Elain who squeaked.
“Lucien —”
“Mr. Vanserra —”
The sisters eyed each other as their words tumbled over each other.
“What an auspicious meeting. Who would have thought I would run into the Archeron sisters at the Sterling ball, of all places.” Lucien’s smile was soft with a hint of mischief.
Even Nesta had to admit she understood Elain’s sudden case of being tongue tied. Lucien, Feyre’s half-civil childhood friend who was equally likely to be covered in mud and twigs as he was to be dressed for dinner, looked every bit the storybook gentleman.
His red hair glowed even in the ballroom full of colors, pulled up into a tight bun that did nothing to hide the casual, rakish look about him. His green velvet jacket glistened with gold buttons and he wore knee high boots over his high waisted cream-colored trousers, with a simple black patch over his scarred eye. He had a new intensity in his gaze that Nesta did not remember, the look of a man with intention.
Resting his weight on one hip with a proud smirk, he was both the gentleman and some spritely creature that had followed them from the forest.
Read the rest on AO3
Tag list (comment or DM me if you'd like to be dropped/added!)
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#acotar#acotar fanfic#feysand#feysand fanfic#elucien#regency au#bridgerton vibes#jane austen for the girlies#my writing#feysand regency#elucien regency#elucien fanfic
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And now I have made a part 3 of the human Cookies, this time featuring the Legendaries
You know I’m noticing that recently I’ve been drawing a lot more. I mean I’ve drawn 3 pieces in the last two days and I drew stuff last week. Seems my medication is at least helping something, even if it’s not me doing actual work to get my life together like my parents hoped. But hey, it personally makes me happy I’m drawing more, so it’s at least somewhat of a win
I think I was spurred on to do this one because I was playing around with the Mii maker on my 3DS, and I was making Cookies and started making the Legendaries
I will say, the Legendaries are probably some of the more difficult characters to translate into normal humans, since their designs are more fantastical. Almost all of their hair is made of something not normal, like fire, grass or water, so I have to try and make it at least semi-cohesive. It also means a lot of hair dye
I admit, while Wind Archer doesn’t look terrible, he does look very boring, like a generic guy. But frankly I just don’t see him using hair dye, or getting a lot of piercings. He doesn’t feel like someone who would to me, and so he looks boring
On the subject of designs I’m not satisfied with, I think Sugar Swan came out the worst. I just legit didn’t know what to do with her design. I’m a proponent of short haired Sugar Swan, so I gave her that, but I don’t think it turned out the best. I also wasn’t sure how to incorporate all the wings and swan thing on her head. I got that but it’s not that great
Originally in Sugar Swan’s spot was Millennial Tree, but he wasn’t turning out great so I tried doing Sugar Swan in his spot. Maybe that spot was just cursed or something
I think my personal favorite of the bunch is Sea Fairy, I think she turned out fun. Honestly I can see her going either way with the hair dye, so might as well just give her the blue. The buzz cut thing was actually something I got from another Sea Fairy design that I really like. I was debating between her having black or dirty blonde hair, but I eventually settled on the blonde
Moonlight and Stardust were pretty fun. With Stardust, I wasn’t sure whether I should have him dye his whole hair blue or have him bleach the front of his hair. I asked on Discord and they said the latter, so that’s what I did. But also note, I realized that if I were to try and give him bleached front and also potentially blue tips, he would have had Yugi Moto anime hair, but just flattened down instead of all spiky. Like I’ve seen people draw Yugi with hair similar to it
I wasn’t really feeling it after Sugar Swan’s failed design, but Fire Spirit got my mojo back, I think he turned out good. And with that I was able to make a Millennial Tree design I liked a lot more (while also looking at someone else’s interpretation of his design and deciding to use locs as well). Maybe not the best but not as bad as it was before
I kind of threw in Frost Queen because last spot and also she is an elemental Legendary. With her, instead of her hair being dyed, it’s supposed to be that her hair has actually turned white from either stress or age, with a tiny bit of her blonde still there at the ends. Don’t know why I picked blonde other than light color though
In my head while I was drawing, I was trying to come up with human things for them to do, but I really only got as far as the Dessert guys and the Wizard guys
Moonlight is the heiress of the “Wizard’s” estate, and she lives there and is the self proclaimed custodian. I’m not really sure what Blueberry Pie and Sugar Glass are doing there, but they’re probably also here. I also don’t know what the estate really is, I just have the idea that it’s a big place that the “Wizards” used as a research place, until they just stopped using it or disbanded or died or something. Stardust meanwhile is either Moonlight’s half brother she didn’t know about, or they’re full siblings who were orphaned and then separated at a young age via the foster care system. Stardust’s journey there would be him learning of his sister and her location and then I suppose hitchhiking his way there until he arrived
Meanwhile, Sugar Swan owns this wildlife preserve, which is the Dessert Paradise (probably goes by another name but I can see “Paradise” still being in the name), meanwhile the Dessert guardians, including Wind Archer, are the other caretakers that manage and guard the preserve. Are they also Sugar Swan’s kids? Maybe, I don’t know. Wind Archer probably is though, and maybe Millie’s his dad, I’m not sure
Frost Queen I think is just an accomplished doctor who lives in a more remote area and takes care of patients with a rare condition that she specializes in the treatment of (and also contracted herself when she was younger). She also just kind of dresses like that I guess
Genuinely I don’t know what Fire Spirit does, he might just be like, Pitaya’s adopted son or works under Pitaya, I don’t know. I can’t see him with much of a job
I imagine Sea Fairy has some sort of job (that she might neglect), but I have no clue what that job would be, since it presumably impacts both Black Pearl and Abyss Monarch in some big way, so like, running an aquarium might be too low stakes. Her crush on Moonlight might be something like she met this cute astronomer one time at some sort of astronomy conference or something, but she doesn’t know where she lives and so doesn’t know how to meet her again. Moonlight also thought she was cute, but again, doesn’t know where she lives
And yeah, I think that’s about it. I hope you enjoy these designs
#cookie run#legendary cookies#wind archer cookie#sea fairy cookie#moonlight cookie#stardust cookie#sugar swan cookie#fire spirit cookie#millennial tree cookie#frost queen cookie#human cookies#my art
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Hi! I've seen all your lovely posts about your mice and I was wondering if you could help me?
I recently came into possession (they were dumped on me, yay! 🙃) of two baby male mice (both from the same litter), and while I've kept females before, I've never had males.
I've seen online that male mice can sometimes fight as they mature, even litter mates that can't see/smell females, and I'm a bit worried. Do you have any advice about how to avoid them falling out? Or is it just one of those things that might happen?
I'm also unsure of what the best option is when it comes to cage size. I have a smaller cage that's 55x39x29cm and a larger one that's 100x50x37cm. I know that bigger is considered better with most rodents, but again, I'm new to male mice, and I don't know if the larger cage might leave them feeling too exposed?
Thanks
I think a lot of people who raise only a small number of mice don't learn the difference between dominance scuffling and actual fighting, or how to tell if a mouse is actually stressed vs just experiencing an acute stress.
Male mice and even some female mice, will scuffle if a cage is ever completely cleaned. A lot of their social hierarchy is determined by scent and when you eliminate all of the scent from the environment, you wreak havoc on whatever social situation they've established and it must be re-established. This can seem like fighting! It can involve loud squeaking, physical scuffling, chasing, etc. However, social hierarchy scuffles should only last for a day or less. They do not typically draw blood. There shouldn't be tail rattling (no pet mouse should ever be a rattler, any ethical breeder will immediately cull a rattler). If all they are doing is squeaking, chasing, and tumbling about, it will calm down once they have figured out who is boss hog and who isn't, and be fine. Many people freak out about any scuffle and immediately separate because they think it's aggression or actual fighting and then they tell everyone else that male mice always fight. They don't. They can! But if they've been raised together and kept without females, the chance is pretty low.
If it lasts longer than a day or two, if blood is drawn (particularly if it's in more than one spot, or at genital locations, or on the fronts of their forelimbs), if they're popping and then freezing (as opposed to popping and then running about), if they are rattling their tail, that's aggression, not social drama. Those males must be separated, as they will almost certainly fight to the death if left together, and it can happen very quickly because aggressor males are relentless.
The other factor here is stress. Stressed mice are more prone to fighting, and even if they aren't fighting, having perpetually stressed mice is bad (it sometimes cannot be helped. Some mice stress about captivity regardless of any conditions which any ethical breeder should be paying attention to and culling/selecting to eliminate, in order to produce mice that are relaxed in a domestic setting). Heavily urine-soaked equipment is a sign of stress (and despite what some people will tell you it's not normal, they will tell you it's just males marking everything... It's not. If they're marking like this, it's because they're stressed. I work with thousands of mice daily and only some of the males do this, and it's always the ones showing other stress signs too, MOST of the male cages are not urine soaked). Food being chewed into dust. Popping and freezing. Tail rattling can also be a sign of acute stress. Frantic, twitchy motion. Poor coat quality, both in scruffy, dull coats but also over grooming. Sometimes this is just temperament from poor breeding, sometimes it's an environmental factor. This is where enclosure size and equipment can feature.
The "bigger is better" is only sort of true for mice. Most mice don't stress in a small cage as long as they have fresh food and water and a warm nest. That's the life! They have everything they need, they feel safe, they aren't stressing about having enough to eat or where to find water. They are simple prey creatures content to sleep and eat and be safe. Extra enrichment, like wheels, scent enrichment, various chews, climbing devices, alternating hides, treats, etc are all good too!
But what happens when most people increase enclosure size is that they don't also proportionally increase a) hides b) food sources c) water sources. So what you end up with is an enclosure where there's open space (bad, scary, stressful) that they have to cross to get to the one food or water source that may be far from their preferred nest. You can keep a mouse or mice in an enclosure the size of a house, provided you can cram it full of hides/equipment and provide enough feed and water locations that they feel as safe as they did in a cage the size of a shoebox. But people don't, so large enclosures end up being stressful as hell. Either of your enclosure sizes would work fine for your mice, it's just a matter of how much stuff you're going to put in. However much you think is enough when you set it up, add several more things. Then add some more.
As for what you can do, again the biggest factor with mice is scent. Never clean all the equipment at the same time. Never change all the bedding at the same time. If you need to clean the actual cage, pull most of the bedding into a bag, clean the cage itself, and put the bedding back. You can change the bedding a different day. Pick yourself up some ZuPreem fruitblend pellets to scatter around the cage as a forage treat after cage changes; they will be busy looking for those long enough they will often forget to even scuffle. You can get some dried lavender to put in the cage, there was a study done that suggested it has a calming effect, and even if it doesn't, it's good enrichment. Watch for signs of stress, and be prepared to separate if necessary, because you don't know their history or if their breeder cared about anything, but honestly it should be alright.
#mice#asks#anon asks#make yourself a wire feeder!#they're easy to make with some half inch hardware cloth#use a block chow#it seems boring but it's the best thing for them#I've helped a few local breeders switch to block chow#because they see my mice or back when i did rats saw my rats#and wanted to know how i got such nice fur#it's because block chows don't give them a chance to pick out only what they like#so they get complete nutrition
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i know i say it like every time i notice some new fuckshit but its crazy like. seeing in motion the weird corner cutty maneuvers they did with makoto in csex and then never went back and fixed or touched up or anything because the way she was added sure seems rushed
#crow.txt#blazblueposting#like its small things but they add up and once you notice them you cant really un notice#she has like 3 different little idle taunt things for if she sits there not doing anything#whereas everyone else has only one#BUT like... hers kinda choppy and dont transition to/from her normal idle stance well#her taunt itself is kinda weirdly lowkey and boring? also REALLY fast probably faster than hakumen and arakune's#theres a lot of points where it seems like frames were skipped like in her win pose where she wags her tail the way she leans down#is kinda choppy and unnatural looking#apparently the b + c versions of asteroid vision. the air ones. the little flip she does? uses frames from her air throw for some reason?#which seems. weird? idk that seems odd its not that uncommon for moves to reuse frames from other moves but thats a weird place to grab fro#and its imo kinda a stark contrast vs anything added post cs like overdrives and crush triggers etc. new moves like sirius jolt#sirius jolt is by far one of the best animated moves she has to me. they convey the like. force? really well#makoto if she wasnt rushed to be added in cs.......................#the like. 8th frame or so of sirius jolt is my favorite makoto frame like ever. she PUNCH
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idk how to explain it, but i hope hgsn eases off the infodumps? recently, each section seems to release with a cliffhanger that ultimately doesnt go anywhere and then there's a bit more infodumps and after a while i wish smth else would happen...
asako caught hikaru's monster form, then quietly was sad. yoshiki was able to easily talk to his dad abt hikaru's father and to trace of his previously foreshadowed vibe was present, his dad didnt even seemed that upset recalling the past. hikaru ends up at kurebayashi's house, but she doesnt give him much to work with, he ends up saying he wants to go back, she again cant say much about that, she considers doing some wacky spiritual stuff, but backs off, and hikaru leaves sad. hikaru declares he's leaving for real, and tanaka shows up and is like "no, lol." I'm assuming kurebayashi has some other stuff going on, but hikaru feels like the only thing in the series atm resembling conflict during these infodump sections. i just wish info was shown in some other way than a literal sit down usually
#personal#hgsn spoilers#?#i think yoshiki ignoring things is fine bc its clearly how he's (not) coping w things. and hikaru is clearly taking on the burden in respon#and i guess i get some of it is them trying to find out info and i cant really say what should be happening but im not really#on board w how it's been going? like either hikaru or yoshiki or both are sat down and explained to#the heads part was fine. hikaru's little guts spill was fine. and hikaru's current attitude is ok but i dont like the dad now#seemingly being nonthreatening at all and kurebayashi seems kinda v unhelpful for such a relevant character#the tsujinaka family resolution (?) seemed boring too. yoshiki coming upon clues jumping out at him also seems silly#it feels like when i dont know what to do but here theres opportunities that are ignored. maybe kurebayashi has the best#excuse but it doesnt look good alongside all the other moments
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Sorry for being negative, I’m just a bit disappointed that after looking through the Earthspark Optimus tags on and off on different occasions weeks apart, it seems like the only thing the fandom has to say about ES Optimus is finger snaps and dad jokes. :/ (And also a handful of people already trying to frame him as a bad person lmao)
Watch for it, when more episodes of Earthspark come out and a conflict with GHOST inevitably arises, people are going to be raging at Optimus for being “stupid” or “self-righteous” or “blind” for working with GHOST and start calling Megatron and/or the Decepticons right about everything because they spent so long focusing on “haha funny dad Optimus” that they forgot about the other parts of Optimus’ character like... idk, not wanting to colonize planets? Not wanting to start wars with entire species that didn’t want to be involved in the war in the first place? Being willing to make compromises even at risk to himself and his own because he wants to treat everyone fairly?
Idk I guess I’m just a bit salty because it genuinely seems like all this fandom wants is “funny dad Optimus” and nothing else. Like you will give them funny dad Optimus who’s ALSO complex and morally gray but people will only ever talk about the former part. And then when Optimus inevitably makes a mistake and bad things happen, people are probably going to treat him as if he’s stupid or an asshole when he ends up not being the Perfect Unproblematic Fave that people seemingly want him to be.
#negativity#the tf fandom has protagonist centered morality really badly#like yes we all joke/think that humans are the most boring part of transformers#but there's a difference between that as like a narrative preference in a story#versus literally acting like humans don't matter#and a lot of takes i see in earthspark and other continuities#seem to completely ignore the fact that cybertronians securing their future on earth and eliminating the people who want to do them wrong#would literally mean stealing resources from humans and killing them aka COLONIZING THEM#so i see people calling OP a bad leader or stupid or overly trusting for working with GHOST when he's literally no such thing#he explicitly says 'we are guests on this planet' and acknowledges that he sees GHOST merely as his best option and doesn't fully trust them#but ppl in this fandom have a really infantile perspective of optimus#where they want him to be Good All The Time or they just see him as an idiot for some reason#so they see OP making compromises to not hurt humans (people who didn't even want to get involved with cybertron's war)#and theyre like durr hurr he's stupid! he's ignorant! he's an asshole to the decepticons!#no he's not he's literally just trying to not hurt innocent people? and he has to balance both human lives and cybertronian lives#and that's fucking hard and there are no perfect options and there are no outcomes where no one will get hurt#and the existence of those bad choices doesn't make optimus stupid or malicious#it makes him a FUCKING PERSON#trying to navigate a HARD SITUATION and do the right thing#but we can't have optimus being an actual character who behaves like a human being#he has to be perfect daddy prime that does nothing wrong ever and if he does he's a STUPID ASSHOLE ugh
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One of my favorite parts of the Hozier show last night was watching people around me get annoyed at how long it was taking him to thank everyone he could think of who made the tour possible (from his fellow musicians to the drivers) and also how long it took to explain that he wrote Nina Cried Power as a thank you to the US Civil Rights movement, which directly influenced Irish civil rights.
No, you will stand and listen to this man be grateful for the people in his life, and the people throughout history who've paved the way for us all, and there is NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT because his voice is far too lovely for you to leave prematurely before hearing sing again!
#also loved how many times he gushed about madison cunningham who opened for him (and who also kicked ass)#and that he handed a whole verse of nina cried power over to melissa mcmillian#like i know being a musician expressing gratitude at your show is by no means a unique thing to do#he just seems like a person who is trying his best not to take any opportunities given to him for granted#and letting those around him feel appreciated and know he could not do this without them#and making sure the influence of those who've come before is not forgotten#even if that feels too long-winded repetitive or boring for some people
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