#there's so little fan content out there that I've seen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rollercoasterwords · 2 years

Text

the tiktokification of ao3

or: some of you fundamentally misunderstand ao3 and it really, really shows

i was talking about this with a friend a few days ago and since then i've seen multiple posts of various sorts that have just made me think about it more, so. here is me breaking down a disconnect i see particularly with younger members of the marauders fandom (i say marauders specifically just bc that's the only one i'm plugged into):

okay, so i've seen many (usually younger) marauders fans either talking online about how they wish ao3 was more like social media (specifically regarding algorithms) OR talking about ao3/fanfiction/fanfic writers as if they are operating under the same etiquette/guidelines/assumptions they would bring into social media platforms. this ranges from being mildly irritating to genuinely harmful, and i want to talk abt why.

first - you have to understand that social media, in this day and age, exists in a profit economy. and when i say social media here, i'm referring to platforms like tiktok, twitter, instagram, etc. all of these platforms exist in a profit economy where content is a product that can be monetized. this leads to a few important distinctions:

people posting on these social media platforms are generally posting with the intent to get their content seen by as many people as possible, as quickly as possible

they post with this intent because once their content is consumed by enough people, it becomes a product that they can monetize

therefore, if that content gets popular enough, these people can become influencers, where content creation is an actual job and their audience are, in a sort of vague and obscured way, similar to consumers purchasing a product

because of the profit economy surrounding social media, there are certain assumptions + forms of interaction that bleed across almost all social media platforms. the ones relevant to this little essay include:

operating under the assumption that anyone posting anything on the internet wants to go viral, ie. be seen by as many people as possible as quickly as possible in order to grow an "audience"

these influencers are creating content for us, their audience, so they should want to please us. they should also be trying to appeal to the broadest possible audience. therefore, if we dislike their content, we have a right to make that very, very clear.

in that same vein, we have a general right to critique content creators, as they are making a profit and we are the consumers purchasing their product--much like you might feel entitled to a certain standard of service in a restaurant where you are paying for the food.

when you carry these assumptions over to a platform like ao3, it creates problems. why? in a nutshell: because ao3 exists outside the profit economy

ao3 is a non-profit. it does not have an algorithm because it is not trying to sell you anything. this means that the writers posting their work on ao3 are not making a profit. we are not influencers. we are not creating monetized content to sell to a consumer-audience. where consuming content on other social media platforms might be comparable to eating at a restaurant, reading fanfiction on ao3 is more like coming over to someone's house and eating cookies that they made for free. you are in their house. the cookies are free, given as a gift. so what happens when those assumptions outlined above start to bleed over from other social media?

assuming that anyone posting fanfiction online wants their work to go viral -- i've seen this with popular fic writers getting questions like, "are you worried x isn't going to be as popular as y?" those questions are usually not ill-intended, but they demonstrate a fundamental lack of understanding about why writers post work on ao3. it's not to go viral. it's not to build any sort of online following. most of us who post on ao3 have jobs or schoolwork or other commitments, and writing fanfiction is something done for fun, out of a love for writing. those sharing their work online might be seeking community, but that is fundamentally different from seeking an audience, and in no way involves internet virality. if someone is posting fanfic on ao3 with the hope that it'll "go viral," then they likely either won't continue writing fanfic for long or will reach a point where they have to re-evalute their motivations, because seeking joy and validation by turning your art into a product for consumption just isn't very sustainable.

influencers are creating content for us, so we have a right to let them know if we don't like it -- nope!! fic writers are not influencers. yes, even the popular ones. no matter how much other people might blow their work up on social media, fic writers are still outside the profit economy. they are not creating content for an audience. they are not creating content for you. they are writing because they love it, and they are generously sharing it. if you don't like it, don't interact with it. you are never entitled to loudly and publicly proclaim how much you dislike a fic. i talk about this more here

we have a general right to critique fic writers, the same way we do with content creators/influencers -- again, no. you should not be treating fic writers the way you would treat an influencer on another social media platform, no matter how popular they may be. this is not to say fic writers are beyond all reproach; rather, it is a call-in to check your entitlement. fic writers are not little jesters entertaining in your court. they are not subject to your whims. they do not have to do things for you. they do not have to write things you like. in that post i linked on point 2, i talk about what etiquette might look like if you're really concerned that a fic writer is doing something harmful, but that is not what i'm talking about here. i am talking about the proliferation of negativity i have seen, especially on twitter and tiktok, where people essentially just talk shit about fics or fic writers as though they are entitled to have those fic writers working to please them. this is gross, and it needs to stop. you wouldn't go over to someone's house, eat the cookies they baked to share, and then spit those cookies back in their face and start shouting about what a shitty baker they are. or maybe you would--in which case, congratulations! you are Not A Good Person.

anyway, at the end of the day, a lot of this can be boiled down to: Because ao3 exists outside the profit economy, fic writers are not influencers, and you should never be treating them as though they are. i think i see this disconnect largely with younger people just because they've maybe only ever really understood social media within this sort of influencer-consumer-culture economy, and genuinely don't understand how to interact differently with the internet. so, consider this post a call-in to reevaluate the way you interact with fic writers and the etiquette you use when it comes to engaging with fanfic on ao3! i promise that ao3 being different from social media is a very, very good thing, and also a very, very rare thing, so let's treasure it and focus on fostering community rather than trying to morph it to fit the mould of influencer-audience dynamics that we see almost everywhere else <3

#tldr: fic writers aren't influencers #stop acting like they are #it only creates problems!!!!#anyway if you have engaged in some of these behaviors that doesn't make u a bad person #it just means u should maybe shift ur perspective moving forward #capitalism is a lifeless desert that grows every day and ao3 is a little oasis #let's all enjoy it while we can #instead of trying to place it within a consumer economy #ranting and raving #txt

20K notes · View notes

noctqrnxl · 18 days

Text

my thoughts on the watcher update:

i am happy with this apology.

i will not let my guard down

i GENUINELY hope they learn to manage their finances better in the future

if they read through the comments then i hope they saw the thousands of people talking about how ryan and shane's banter >>> high quality content

i hope they get a little less out of touch??? and understand their audience??? and do some research before taking such a big decision????

i definitely hope that they find a balance between the high-quality content they want to create, doing so within understandable budget restraints, and the content WE want (which is mostly banter/talking. i used to hate anything horror-related but i loved bfu supernatural because SHANE AND RYAN MADE IT LESS SCARY!! I HAVE MADE POSTS ABOUT THIS BEFORE AS WELL!!)

contrary to what most people were saying, i actually liked steven the most at some point. when i'd watch too many spirits episodes it was steven's chaos (and eventually him and ricky's banter) that i looked forward to. i liked dish granted as well! yes i love shane and ryan, honestly who doesn't atp, but i always had a soft spot for steven. (i haven't seen a single worth it ep btw. the most i've seen of steven has been on watcher.) that's why the backlash against him specifically has been... tough to see. i acknowledge what people are saying and i also agree with it, but still. ykwim.

they look WRECKED. either they are very good actors all of a sudden or this was a more terrible weekend for them than i thought. (not to mention the bullying and harassment a lot of fans have done.)

as a lot of people have been pointing out, isn't WatcherTV basically Patreon??? i haven't signed up for either because, well, i'm an international fan 🙊 but still, it feels weird to have both??? idk (edit: they've closed up patreon for now)

i still think WatcherTV is a bad idea but hey, at least we will see the content on yt as well, right?

i hope one day we'll all joke about this. (i don't mean to say i want us to feel good about it, because i don't think we ever will. but still...)

#watcher #steven lim #ryan bergara #shane madej #moon speaks

506 notes · View notes

hannahmanderr · 10 months

Text

I haven't seen anyone else talk about this yet so I'm going to assume no one has (and if this is the millionth post about this I am so sorry), but apparently there was a leak at Viacom last month, and one of the things that got leaked was the original Danny Phantom pitch bible, and let me tell y'all, there is some interesting lore to be had. I've taken the liberty of summing up a few notable points, but feel free to read for yourself - it's pretty short.

Jack was originally written as an ex-spy, test pilot... basically if it was a daring job, he probably had it. His IQ was supposedly only one point off from Maddie's, and his bumbling was more of a result of him being more "brave than smart."

Maddie was originally written as "one of the world's most respected theoretical physicists" and the brains between her and Jack. Get this: her full name was supposed to be Madison!

Sam and Danny's psychic connection was actually a result of the accident. When he was in the hospital and still very much saturated with ectoplasm, she gave him a "get better" kiss on the forehead, which sparked the connection. The connection would've manifested in a number of ways, including a perpetual ability to "sense" the other, see visions, and hear each other's thoughts, though it was supposed to be somewhat unpredictable.

Jazz hid her brains from her cheerleader friends because she wanted to fit in with them.

Danny was supposed to be the only person able to see, hear, and interact with ghosts.

On the subject of Danny, his reputation for being a scaredy-cat was much more well-known, even to the point where Sam and Tucker gave him the nickname Danny Phantom before he even had his accident. This kid was scared of his own shadow, frogs, you name it.

Overshadowing was originally called "ghosting," and the more intelligent a person, the more difficult it would be to control them.

Jack and Maddie were hoping to break the barrier between the "Real World" (our world) and the "Unreal World" (the ghost world). They wanted to get through to the spirit realm to be able to communicate with the dead in order to help make the world a better place (think picking Einstein's brain a little more, seeing what other music Mozart has cooking, etc.). That dimensional barrier was damaged when they first tried out their experiment, and Danny - who was hiding out from Dash in the lab - would be caught in the middle.

Much like how fans have interpreted things and how the show tried to imply, Danny felt responsible for unleashing the ghosts into our world and decided to adopt the name Sam and Tucker had teased him with to help put a stop to their reign of terror.

Seriously, y'all should read this. There's a lot of interesting info in here, and really it sounds like such a cool concept?? Like I'll probably add my personal thoughts in a reblog, but there's a lot of potential for untapped creativity from the phandom here. Plus it's always nice to see what's technically official content almost 20 years after the show's premiere.

#danny phantom #danny phantom bible #nickelodeon #dp #official content #pitch bible #danny phantom pitch bible #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton

3K notes · View notes

bunnyhugs77 · 3 months

Note

I literally cried so much reading Angel Eyes but it's so beautifully writen i loved it! >.< Please tell me u have some happy scenes from them🥺

The Honeymoon

𓆩♡𓆪 Part of the angel eyes! au but can be read as a stand alone.

𓆩♡𓆪WC: 1.4k

𓆩♡𓆪In my head happy means smutty! lol enjoy

Content Warning: Smut! Honeymoons, fucking making love, jk can't last, oral sex (f! receiving), begging, desperate, dom! jk, making out, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex (newly weds smh), mentions of public sex, reader is a bit bratty (but jk kinda likes it), light teasing.

The moment the two of you return to your suite from your couple's massage you immediately jump face down onto the bed of rose petals that are redone for you and Jungkook every night of your stay at the all-inclusive resort.

Your honeymoon suite was simply stunning. It was your own little bungalow with an ocean-side view of the very private island the hotel was on with your neighbours being more than 50 yards away.

You couldn't believe you went from saving a view like this into your Pinterest board and now you were looking at it first hand, although it couldn't beat the sight of your handsome husband who groaned a sigh of relief as he walked into the room behind you, leaving his crutches against the wall.

Rubbing his neck he praises the service he'd just received, "Goddamn, I think that's the best massage I've ever had--and I've been doing physio for almost a year and a half."

You weren't listening to him.

His skin was absolutely glowing, it must've been the oil they used or maybe Jungkook was just naturally this radiant. Your husband is hot as fuck, you wouldn't put it past him.

"What's that face?" Jungkook looks down at you with an arched brow. Just when you thought he couldn't get any hotter. In his stupid tropical palm-tree-themed button-down that was left open over the white wife beater that hugged his buff chest a little too well.

Your thoughts had gone straight to a sinful place and you were going to make sure to take Jungkook down with you. There's no way he didn't know what he was doing.

It felt like he'd been teasing you all day, from the way he licked the syrup off his fingers at breakfast to the way he moaned softly every so often during the massage.

"Want you to fuck me." You say, on your back, legs spreading on their own accord letting the flimsy material of your sundress give him a brief sight of the black thong that left little to the imagination.

He clears his throat, suddenly fanning his face. You'd never been this bold before. Even with all the sneaky hospital hand jobs and the quickies in storage closets, he'd never seen you get like this before. So... desperate.

"Yeah? What am I supposed to do about that?" His voice was smooth like butter and oozing with confidence. You pout and he just wants to kiss you, "Fine. I'll do it myself." You quip, dropping your hand down between your legs, but before they could even make contact, a strong hand is gripping your wrist.

"What's your problem today? You've been short-tempered all day." He walks towards you, close enough to be standing between your open legs. "Oh, like you don't know." You scoff and suddenly there's a light spank to your outer thigh where your dress had rolled up.

A whorish whine rumbles from your throat, never wanting to admit how much that turned you on. "Be nice." He warns and you roll your eyes, taking a deep breath before your head turns to the side, facing out the window to the beautiful ocean that reflected the setting sun.

"You've been teasing me all day, licking your fingers this morning, then moaning during the massage." Jungkook had to laugh. You were just so cute when you got like this, he could get used to it.

Carefully working you out of your underwear as he spoke, "I had no idea you got so hot and bothered this easily. Is this all it takes?" Bunching up your dress in his hands and pushing it to pool around your stomach as he slowly drops to his knees.

"Let me make it up to you," He purrs, and you can feel the warm air from his lips hit your center sending chills to creep up your spine.

With such little time to react to the feeling of his tongue working skillfully along your wet pussy your hands reached down for his hair, tugging gently. "Oh fuck, that feels so good." Your voice was airy and breathless as your eyes closed, too caught up in the pleasure to keep them open.

Jungkook was a passionate pussy eater, always has been, and always will be. Some guys try to overplay the role of being a 'giver' in bed, thinking it makes them some kind of next-level gentleman who deserves to be praised, but Jungkook was different.

He'd once come untouched just from eating you out and he couldn't look you in the eyes for a good two hours after that.

His soft grunts send a soundwave through your body and add an extra flame into your burning core, flooding with arousal. "Yeah, j-just like that." You moan, grip tightening in his hair and he has to stop his hips from grinding in the air.

His cock was throbbing beneath his shorts and it wanted nothing more than to find solace in the warm walls of your cunt. Meanwhile, he kept himself busy with the brutal pace he'd set with the wet, flat muscle in his mouth.

Flicking your clit rigorously until your moans became higher and more rapid. "Jungkook!-" Your chest began to dampen with sweat as it raised and fell with shallow breaths as you came undone on his tongue, but he refused to pull away until he'd licked up every drop.

Collecting the last of it on his fingers before standing and making lustful eye contact with you, sucking it off his fingers just as you'd imagined he would at breakfast this morning.

With haste, he shimmies out of the rest of his clothes while you toss your dress off to the side and out of mind. Your brain is only able to focus on the swollen head of his cock prodding at your entrance.

"My wife just has the prettiest pussy doesn't she?" The question was rhetorical, but the official title did things to you. It made you want to do bad bad things to him. The kinds of things that could put him back in that wheelchair.

Pushing in slightly then pulling out, the sounds from this action alone left you scatterbrained. "Jungkook. Please!" You begged, pursing your lips with displeasure and he chuckles.

With his arms caging you in at the sides of your head he pushed in, letting his arms leverage him down to drop a wet kiss on your lips, one that you hardly responded to.

Mouth slightly agape as your walls stretched around his girth, "Shit." You curse, "Are you okay? Let me know when I-" Cutting him off with your lips, making a sound of approval that prompted Jungkook to slowly rock his hips forward.

Your cunt sucked in every last inch of him until he bottomed out. "You feel so good, baby." He pants, the strained tone of his words telling you all you need to know.

He wasn't going to last long at all. Jungkook always tried his best to hold out as long as he could when he was with you, and he's sure he would have been able to before the accident but he just couldn't seem to control himself, especially not with you moaning beneath him like this.

"fuck-" He curses, rolling his hips into you with a steady pace. With every thrust your mind goes blank and your nose scrunches. It was a cute habit Jungkook hadn't noticed till recently. The way your nose would scrunch when you were close to your orgasm.

"I'm-" You warn and he grunts, hips rutting into you, deeper, slower.

"Look at me, Y/n." The use of your name was able to have your eyes fluttering to meet his. The eye contact was all too much for you, to look at him while you finished was overstimulating in every sense of the word.

All it took was one glance and you were moaning his name at the top of your lungs and reaching your climax, suddenly thankful that your neighbours were so far away. With one last squeeze of your walls around him, he felt his composure crumble, shooting his hot cum inside you.

Toppling down beside you. The both of you stare up at the ceiling with laboured breaths before turning to face each other.

"What if I just got you pregnant?" You snort, "You just always have something to say don't you?" He smiles, "I'm serious, you never know." Inching towards him, never breaking eye contact, "I think we can handle whatever life throws our way."

After the last year the two of you had gone through, that was most certainly true.

#jungkook smut #jungkook ff #bts jungkook #jungkook fic recs #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts #bts one shot #jungkook x reader #fluff #jungkook fluff

396 notes · View notes

kissme-suguru · 3 months

Text

Under The Influence

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖ Nanami Kento ♡︎ CEO AU! x Fem Reader

Warnings: Explicit content MDNI, Soft Dom Nanami, smut, unprotected drunk sex, creampie, missionary, cunnilingus, praise

A/N: This originally was gonna be a multi character thing then i got too into CEO Nanami. Any feedback is appreciated!

Tonight was the annual corporate dinner for Nanami's company where everyone got together to go over the accomplishments for the year and give out recognition. Every year Nanami made sure his employees were taken care of, renting out the upper floor of an extravagant restaurant for the the event and treating everyone to a nice dinner. Being the stoic man he is he sat back and watched as everyone enjoyed themselves but every once in awhile his eyes would land on you. His pretty little assistant who he longed for so desperately.

From the moment you walked into his office for the interview he knew he was in trouble, his eyes lingered on your figure which was shown off in the pencil skirt and blouse you wore. But keeping up his reputation as a professional he put those thoughts aside and hired you cause he thought you'd be a good asset to the company. (certainly no other reason)

Nanami watched you mingled with some of his other employees, taking sips from his scotch as the jealousy began to rise in him. He was already on his third drink and you being the sole reason why he was indulging more than usual. Despite trying to keep up his facade he hated when others captured your attention; to him it wasn't fair. He wanted you and not only that he wanted to make sure everyone knew you were his and his alone.

When the event came to an end you took notice of how tipsy Nanami was and of course as the doting assistant you helped him into the back of his car and rode back to his penthouse with him to make sure he got home safe. In the car his muscular body leaned against you in his drunken state, which you allowed since he seemed to take comfort in your presence.

After entering his penthouse you carefully guided him to his bedroom and guided him to lay on his back. He chuckled quietly sprawling out like a starfish as he watched you move to his bathroom and gather a cold rag. "Such a sweet thing, taking care of your boss."

A soft giggle fell from your lips while you approached, placing the rag on the forehead. "It's my job to take care of you, sir. Besides I've never really seen you drink before so I wanna make sure you're alright."

His hand reached out to grab your wrist and pull you closer to him, causing a soft gasp to leave your lips and look at him in confusion. The drinks from restaurant seemed to give him the liquid courage he needed to finally express himself to you. "That's what I like about you Y/N-" His gaze traveled down to your lips briefly before meeting your eyes. "You're so selfless, so kind, so...perfect."

Nanami's words brought heat to your cheeks and made your knees weak. Of course you had been attracted to your boss but you didn't think he would possibly return your feelings.

"Kento-"

"I want you darling. I need you, I have since I first laid eyes on that pretty face." He let go of your wrist and moved his hand up to stroke your cheek, gently pulling your bottom lip down with his thumb. "Tell me you feel the same?"

Looking deeply in Nanami's eyes you nodded slowly. "I want you too, Kento." His eyes widened with a mix of desperation and longing after hearing your answer. He leaned closer, his warm breath fanning against your skin as he whispered, "I want to taste you, Y/N. I want to feel you wrapped around me. Please...let me have you." His hands tightened their grip on your waist, desire evident in his touch.

Nanami wasted no time pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss after you nodded in approval, his hand roaming over your body with a desperate hunger. He slowly slid off your dress savoring the sight of your exposed skin that he had long dreamed about. The maroon dress pooled at your feet leaving your lace clad body on display.

A nervous smile appeared on your lips as you turned your head slightly, nervous to meet his hungry gaze. Nanami noticed your flushed cheeks and couldn't help but find it incredibly endearing. He gently cupped your face, turning it towards him so he could gaze into your eyes. "You're so beautiful, darling."

He leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips, his touch gentle and soft. "Don't be shy, my sweet. I want to see every expression on your face as i pleasure you." His words were laced with a hint of teasing, his desire to see you unravel in his voice.

Kento's eyes darkened with desire as he watched you settle onto the plush mattress. He slowly crawled over you, slipping off his shirt hovering above you. His hands trailed along your sides, his touch feather-light as he explored every curve and dip of your body.

"I can't resist you." He leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a passionate dance.

His hands moved lower, caressing your thighs and inching closer to the source of your desire. He could feel the heat radiating from your core, and it only fueled his own need. With a teasing smirk, he whispered against your lips, "Tell me, pretty girl . How badly do you want me to taste you?"

A shaky breath fell from your lips as she looked up at Nanami. “Please, I need to feel your lips on me."

He couldn't deny you any longer. With a low growl, he lowered himself between your legs, his hands gently parting them and pulling down your panties to expose your glistening folds.

He leaned in, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive skin, before he pressed his lips against your throbbing clit. His tongue flicked against the sensitive bud, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He savored your taste, his tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of your wetness.

His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you with an insatiable hunger. He alternated between gentle licks and firm sucks, his mouth working tirelessly to bring you to the edge of pleasure. He wanted to hear your moans, to feel your body tremble beneath him as he pleasured you to the brink of ecstasy. He pleasured your body with utter ease, listening to every little sound and finding out what made you tick.

It didn't take long for your orgasm to approach, whining out his name as your back arched into the plush bed. "K-Kento."

Nanami's name falling from your lips in that desperate, needy tone sent a surge of satisfaction through him. He intensified his ministrations, his tongue flicking and swirling with purpose. He wanted to push you over the edge, to make you unravel completely.

He could feel the tension building within you, the telltale signs of your impending release. With a final, firm suck, he brought you to the peak of pleasure. Your body convulsed beneath him as waves of ecstasy washed over you, your moans filling the room.

As you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm, Nanami crawled up your body, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on your lips, and it only fueled his own desire. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come undone," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with a mix of adoration and lust. "But I'm not done with you yet, darling. I want to make you cum again and again."

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you looked up at him with need, subtly grinding your pussy against his clothed bulge.

Nanami groaned as he felt your wetness grinding against him, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. With a primal growl, he quickly undid his belt and discarded his pants along with his boxers somewhere on the floor. He captured your lips in a passionate kiss, hands gripping your hips tightly.

He aligned himself with your entrance, teasingly brushing against your slick folds. "You're so fucking wet for me, baby." he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around me."

With one swift motion, he plunged deep inside you, filling you completely. The sensation of your tightness around him was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but let out a low groan of pleasure. Resting his forehead against yours allowing you to adjust to his girth momentarily before you gave him the go ahead. He began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful, setting a rhythm that matched the urgency of his desire.

His hands roamed over your body, gripping and squeezing, his touch possessive and demanding. He wanted to leave his mark on you, to brand you as his. His hips met yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

"You're mine." he growled, his voice filled with possessiveness. "No one else can make you feel like this. Only me." His words were punctuated by his relentless pace, his need for you driving him to push you both to the edge of pleasure.

Nails raked up and down his back as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Moans rolling off your tongue next to his ear in desperation. Your body clung to him like it depended on it.

Nanami's body shuttered at the sensation of your nails digging into his back, the mix of pleasure and pain only fueling his desire. He relished in the sound of your moans, the need in your voice echoing in his ear.

He continued to thrust into you, his movements becoming more urgent and primal. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room. He could feel the tension building within him, the need to release threatening to consume him.

With a possessive grip on your hips, he angled his thrusts, hitting that sweet spot deep within you. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice filled with raw need. "You feel so fucking good. I can't hold back anymore."

His thrusts became faster and harder, his body moving in perfect sync with yours. He could feel the coil of pleasure tightening within him, ready to unravel. With one final, powerful thrust, he spilled himself inside you, release washing over you both in waves of ecstasy.

He collapsed onto the bed, his breathing heavy and labored. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. "You're mine, darling," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of possessiveness and tenderness. "And I'll always take care of you."

#jjk drabbles #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk angst #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #jjk anime #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen

550 notes · View notes

joeys-babe · 4 months

Text

Joey B Imagines: A Day In The Life

————————————————————————-

Summary: You do a mini TikTok vlog of a day in the life with your boys while pregnant. (Pregnancy announcement to the public!)

Warnings: Fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

January 10, 2024

After posting some more pranks I've done on Joe, surprisingly, my following on TikTok has grown significantly.

Usually, posting Joe on my socials garnered negative attention, AKA hate. I did it because social media apps were meant to share your life, and Joe was a huge part of my life.

I never meant it in a braggadocios way, but that's what people seemed to take from my family photos and post-win pics with my husband.

That's why I was so surprised to see that everyone loved my Joe pranks.

The comments held a consensus that I’d never seen under a post of mine, they loved Joe and I’s dynamic.

I didn't need the public fan validation to make me feel secure in my relationship with Joe, but for once, they understood how special our relationship was, and some even apologized for past statements.

“They love us, Joe.” - you

“No, honey, they love you.” - Joe smiled

After those words were shared, Joe pointed out how all the comments were mostly praising me.

“take back everything I said abt her.”

“stop she matches joe’s energy so well…”

“the way he can’t stay mad at her, they’re so in love”

“actually such a cute couple”

“they compliment each other so well!”

“i see why joe married her! 🥹”

“i want y/n to be MY mom.”

“who gave y/n the right to be so adorable.”

“she’s so fun!”

“the way joe looks at her.. 😭”

“still jealous, but he loves her sm.”

“MY PARENTS.”

“i bet y/n’s the best mom and wife”

“Everyone’s switching sides now, but they never deserved hate. Joe wouldn't marry her if he didn't love her, and I'm glad that you guys can see that now. She makes him really happy!!”

“See? Some are even requesting more videos, baby. Do you see how many new followers you've gotten?” - Joe

“It's just because I posted content of you…” - you

“No, don't say that. It's because you showed your personality, and they love you. They see why I love you.” - Joe

“Do you really think so?” - you

“I know so. Everyone thinks your pranks are hilarious, you're funny, and you handle me super well.” - Joe

“I do handle you super well.” - you laughed

“The best.” - Joe winked

——

That was two days ago, right after we put the twins to sleep and right before we went to bed ourselves.

Currently being nine in the morning, I just woke up.

It was off-season now, but that still meant early mornings.

This morning was a little different, though, because I was making a ‘day in the life’ TikTok.

Since my pranks had become a hit, I've gotten quite a few video ideas from fans in the comments. Most wanted to see more of our everyday lives and wanted to know what it was like as an NFL wife and mother.

So, I decided to do a short video to show what our family day routine was like on an average off-season day.

The thing is… Joe didn't know it was happening.

Joe loved that I was finally being seen the way he saw me but was still weary of what I was posting.

He wasn't a huge fan of social media, and being super public with our relationship and kids, he detested it.

I respected it, but sometimes Joe would ask to participate in a video unprompted.

Lately, that has become a bigger case, so I was hoping he wouldn't mind taking part in the mini-vlog.

Joe was still asleep when I got out of bed, so I discreetly walked into the bathroom after grabbing my phone.

I wouldn't be talking in the video, just showcasing the sounds of the background and whatever I was doing, while the text that I would put over it later would describe what was going on.

After making little clips of me brushing my teeth, washing my face, and brushing my hair out, I walked back into the bedroom.

Next, I recorded a little snippet of me picking out my outfit - leggings and one of Joe’s hoodies - before turning my phone off to get changed.

Now that I was ready, I headed downstairs to start breakfast.

I pulled ingredients out of the fridge for Joe’s smoothie, omelets for me and me, and some of the ingredients for the boy's pancakes.

Just as I was starting the blender, a sleepy-looking Joe with raging bedhead shuffled into the kitchen.

“G’morning.” - you grinned

Thankfully, he put on sweatpants and a T-shirt, and I was glad of that because he'd complain about being shirtless on camera.

“Hi.” - Joe mumbled

“You good, buddy?” - you laughed

“Mhm. I just don't like waking up to see that you're not next to me.” - Joe

“Awe, I'm sorry. C’mere.” - you

I opened my arms to Joe, and he immediately was in my embrace. My arms were around his waist as I squeezed him, and his head lay on my shoulder.

When he pulled away from me, Joe’s eyes landed on the recording camera and immediately went wide-eyed.

“Why are you recording?” - Joe

“I'm making a ‘day in the life' video. I won't put anything in it that you aren't comfortable with, like what just happened.” - you

“Oh… ok. Yeah, don't put that in, though, because I sound like a baby.” - Joe

His grimace made me laugh because I thought our interaction was cute. Then again, I loved Joe’s needy, soft side. It was purely adorable.

“My baby.” - you grinned

“Stop…” - Joe

Joe was trying to hide his smile as his cheeks turned pink, and I couldn't help but giggle. I loved knowing I could make him blush, even after all the years we've been together.

“Do you need help recording anything?” - Joe

“Not at the moment, but if I do, I'll ask you.” - you

“Okay. Want me to make the pancakes?” - Joe

“Sure! Can I get a clip of you flipping them?” - you

“Of course.” - Joe smiled

Shortly after that, Joe got started on the pancakes, and I recorded a little video to get audio of the sizzling from the hot pan.

When I got a short clip of Joe flipping a mini pancake, I didn't put his face in it, but you could very clearly see it was him. His easily recognized bracelets and hands gave that away, along with the laugh the speaker picked up when he executed the flip perfectly.

“I should be a pro cook.” - Joe

“We both know that shouldn't happen.” - you

Joe busted out laughing and told me to put that in the mini-vlog.

“Will do.” - you giggled

——

Later in the day, I had gotten most of the wanted content filmed, including waking the boys up, breakfast, and playing/cleaning around the house.

Now, Joe, Me, and the boys were on our way to the reason for the entire video.

AKA the ultrasound that I'm having today.

It was a hard launch of my pregnancy, but Joe and I thought we'd include it in the video since my maternity photoshoot wasn't for a couple more weeks. The reason we were announcing it before the shoot was because it was getting hard to hide my growing bump. We’d much rather announce it ourselves than someone screenshot a picture of me in the background with a round belly.

When we got sent back to the ultrasound room, Joe sat in the chair next to where I was. Tyson was in Joe’s lap while Miles sat in the chair next to them.

“You ready to see sissy?” - Joe

Tyson and Miles both nodded, causing Joe and I to both smile.

Soon the ultrasound tech walked into the room and before I knew it, the familiar feeling of cold gel on my stomach made me hiss.

“Okay, Mama?” - Joe

“Gel’s just cold. I'm fine.” - you smiled

Joe made sure to get a good video of you watching the monitor, and he felt tears pricking in his eyes at the sight of his baby girl.

He would never get tired of being called, girl dad, Joe wore it like a proud Boy Scout who had just received a new badge.

“Baby Girl is doing great, measuring how she should be, and is very healthy.” - Tech

“Good.” - you and Joe in sync

After a few more minutes, she wiped off my bump, and I was set to go.

Joe helped me off of the chair and pulled the hoodie back over my stomach.

“I love you.” - Joe grinned

“I love you too.” - you

——

I spent the first thirty minutes back home editing together the clips I already had, getting approval from Joe for each one.

It surprised me how much feedback and “Oh, this would be cool!” Joe was giving me. He liked this more than I thought he would.

We ate dinner just shortly after that, and the rest of the afternoon was slow, as it usually was.

Tyson and Miles went to bed earlier than usual, so Joe and I spent the majority of the evening watching space documentaries that Joe had been wanting to watch.

The last video of the day routine vlog was of the TV in front of us, Joe’s hand on my bump in view, as well as our legs tangled together.

I never truly appreciated the little things in my everyday life till they were pointed out in a video, like how Tyson always looks at Joe for approval before doing something or how Miles's eyes crinkle up when he smiles, just like his daddy’s.

Watching back at the completed TikTok while tucked into my handsome husband’s side as he rubbed over my baby bump and drew little shapes on it with his thumb had me thinking something I seem to always find my mind drifting off to. Oh, boy, was I one lucky girl.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: cutie family fluff for Sunday

Request for this fic; thank you anon! 🫶

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

462 notes · View notes

1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt · 1 year

Text

Today on popping the corn and feeding the children, what do you folks think of this discussion? :)

I'm always curious to hear what other Trek fans, especially queer Trek fans, think about our place in Trek history and how we fare as the queer participants within our fandom. What have your experiences been like?

Overwhelmingly I've found a great reception and a welcoming attitude, but I admit that has increased considerably since the 90s. However, there are still some Trek fans who seem to be vehemently in denial about queer history in Star Trek, or the fact that anyone who has worked on Trek has pro-LGBT attitudes. This always surprises me considering some of the blatant queer content we have already seen in Star Trek such as the Jadzia Dax and Lenara Kahn kiss.

Anyway, I enjoyed the discussion that followed and seeing the overwhelming outpouring of support coming from Star Trek fans in response to this thread.

Here was my two cents contribution:

"No, what they said was factual.

Have you forgotten Nichelle Nichols was indeed an African American woman in the core seven bridge crew back in 1966?

Or the fact that Gene Roddenberry went out of his way to write The Motion Picture Novel, creating the term "T'hy'la: friend, brother, lover" so that fans could choose which interpretations of Kirk and Spock they saw fit? He also embraced K/S fans and hired a number of them to write the earliest Star Trek novels, including the very first official one (The New Voyages Vol. 1 & 2) which included slash fiction as well as Gene's approval/forward in the books.

In case anyone has forgotten, here's a little bit of background on Gene Roddenberry and his perspectives on queerness in Star Trek.

He admitted that in his early life he was very affected by how society and culture treated the LGBT community, and that he too found himself subjugating and judging others for that lifestyle because it was what people did at that time. As he got older and had more life experience, he began working with a number of queer artists in Hollywood -- and through TOS, a number of queer individuals began asking questions about Kirk and Spock.

Instead of vehemently shutting down this perspective, Roddenberry was intrigued, and saw potential to tap into a large audience (LGBT) that most others didn't want to go near or acknowledge publicity-wise. He saw it as an opportunity to expand the fanbase while also pushing yet another envelope.

But with the heat already on the show for what they'd already pushed, he found he was often stuck between what he'd like to do and what production would let him get away with. There are a number of Kirk and Spock scenes in scripts that got cut out for leaning a little too obviously romantic. Tiny trickles of that content still made it in were infamous moments like the backrub scene in Shore Leave. Even the 2009 movie had a K/S moment while Spock Prime and Kelvin Spock talked that was written and filmed that was cut out of the final product.

Queer subtext and coding has always been relentlessly weeded away at with an excuse ready to go for why they always try to cut us out, but we all know it's because they are scared of the homophobic backlash and ratings hits. Look how violently homophobes went after the gay romance episode of The Last of Us **just this year**. This has always been our reality, so for someone like Roddenberry to make efforts in the 70s? That was massive.

But Gene as well as the queer/slash Trek community managed to accomplish some things in the 70s which I'm surprised more folks don't talk about or give much credit.

In the same TMP novel which features "T'hy'la" and the famous footnote, Gene cleverly wrote Kirk with a bisexual/pansexual lens: Kirk describes himself as *preferring* women but being open to "physical love in **any** of its many Earthly, alien, and mixed forms." (Direct quote from Genes book). Basically, Captain Kirk was DTF with whoever if there was a connection, which was a very progressive take for a character in a novel written in 1979, but made sense for the future which would have a lot less hang ups about sex and love compared to our current rather puritan/conservative society.

I also prefer women, but I married a man. Shout out to Gene Roddenberry for giving us a seat at the table back in the 70's when folks *still* try to insist there is no place for K/S or queer concepts in Trek, because he made efforts -- however small -- to employ queer people and show queer perspectives. According to David Gerrold, LGBT+ representation was a big thing that Gene personally pushed for in TNG and wanted various depictions of love/couples in the Risa scenes, to name one example.

In the 70s, fanzines led to meetings and swapped fanmade magazines, which got so big that they needed hotel centers, then convention centers, then one day the TOS cast came to one and what we know as modern fan conventions were born -- inspiring even George Lucas who attended Trek conventions in the 70s and saw how popular Trek was in syndication; it was a great climate to launch his Space Opera. Star Wars then became so huge that we got TMP.

But none of that would have happened without the level of organization, passion, and creativity that those fans poured into Star Trek and their characters after it got cancelled and went into syndication.

Without queer folks we wouldn't have George Takei, Theodore Sturgeon who gave us Tribbles, Bill Theiss and his amazing TOS costumes, Mike Minor's art direction, Merritt Butrick, David Gerrold (writer for TOS, TAS, TNG) to name a few of many queer contributors to Trek that Roddenberry respected and tried to go to bat for wherever he could in a climate that was absolutely impossible to gain an inch in.

At a time during the 70s and 80s when so many people resented and feared the queer community and wanted us to disappear, especially in the 80s during the AIDS epidemic which many homophobes claimed was "God's punishment to the gay community" or "Gods's answer" to our "hedonism", thinking we'd gotten our just desserts and should just disappear . . .

During that time, Gene Roddenberry gave us queer folks a place to say: "You know what? Sure. Write your stories. TV says you guys shouldn't exist, they pull books with queer people off the shelves and burn them. Laws exist specifically to forbid you guys from loving each other, and call you mentally ill. You can't even hold hands in public. But I'm going to validate you guys and invite you to write novels or work for me, try to see what we can get by production, and allow you to see yourselves in my characters if you want to. There's a place for you in our fandom."

He gave us bi/pan Kirk, he gave us K/S is open to interpretation. In Phase 2 Kirk's surviving nephew Peter, son of his brother Sam from Operation: Annihilate!, was going to be written as gay and living on the Enterprise with his partner -- that also got chopped and reworked into a script that wouldn't get used until decades later. That was huge at a time that being queer was officially listed as a mental illness, and villainized due to the AIDS crisis.

So before you try to dismiss or tell K/S + queer Trek fans whether or not they deserve a seat at the table, remember that Gene Roddenberry was among the **first** to pull that seat out for us in a climate that was ruthlessly against LGBT+ folks." -- 1Shirt2ShirtRedShirtDeadShirt

P.S: Have some cute bisexual/pansexual K/S pride gifs. :) Pride month is a hop, skip and a jump away.

LLAP!🖖💚

1K notes · View notes

edgeray · 2 months

Text

“LATE NIGHT DEVIL, PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME

and never never never ever let go”- Teeth, 5 Seconds of Summer

Mafia AU! Arlecchino x Reader Oneshot

Author's Note: It's been a while since I've actually published anything on here. Well, my gay ass is back with another oneshot. This one has been in the works for at least a month. I'm considering making a Part 2, but that will definitely take at least a couple weeks for me to publish (if not months). I wish I was kidding. School literally hates me and my teachers are incessant on killing my GPA. This is also a gift for @megistusdiary because it'll be her birthday when I post this. Please go check out her blog for amazing genshin wlw content (especially Arlecchino content!) Would you guys like this on AO3 as well?

Content Warning/Info: This is a long af oneshot (6.3k words), long af descriptions and kinda long intro, Arlecchino is referred to with they/them pronouns, implied female but no usage of feminine pronouns for Reader, general dark-ish content, pet names, Arlecchino is a lil scary, I've never been to a club so I apologize for the very inaccurate information, nor have I ever been apart of the mafia so also inaccurate, a bit suggestive but otherwise sfw, if I'm missing anything feel free to tell me!

---

Monsters are said to have lied underneath beds–waiting to ensnare an unknowing victim–or stalk hidden among the depths of a closet–awaiting an opportune moment to strike its next prey. Monsters are fabled entities that are used to scare off children from bad behavior and are quickly eased from the mind by coddling parents. The mere notion of a monster shooed away like a pesky fly, swept underneath the subconscious like forgotten specks of dirt.

You know otherwise. Real monsters don’t lurk on the undersides of mattresses; no, they lurk both in the skies above and the depths below. They do not stalk dark closets because they instead stalk alleys in daylit streets. Monsters are very real, that you know is true since you’ve seen your fair share of them. You’ve met monsters in person–they’ve come to you before. Terrifying is an understatement for them, and each time one has appeared as a client, you’re no less scared shitless.

You’ve learned that even inhumane demons find themselves in need of entertainment; like the sinful creatures they are, they seek self-pleasure. And that is how you found yourself in this particular circle of hell, meant to serve and please demons, devils, and monsters alike. Perhaps it was a revolting job, working at a strip club run by a criminal organization but it paid decent money for being danced on the fingertips of whoever you were unfortunate enough to be assigned to.

If it was a regular strip club, being an exotic dancer would have been fine. It wouldn't be so bad. Lustful and prying eyes can be accustomed to quickly, and so are the flattering compliments and the awkward flirting by middle-aged married men. However, there was a difference between lecherous and predatory gazes. Here, you aren’t even viewed as a person, no, the clients here, those that come in reeking of smoke or blood (though sometimes both), armed with knives and guns on their person, see you as nothing more than a toy or prey for them. Even in the eyes of your employer, you're less than human in their eyes.

‘You harm our merchandise, you’ll pay for it,’ is the warning given to every guest when they first enter. Merchandise. That's what you are. And that single line of words is the only thing that assures you of your safety among mafia members, gangsters, crooks, and whatnot. You've heard that the organization behind this strip club does well in enforcing that rule according to other dancers, but you personally don't want to see if the statement is true. You've been here for a little over a year, and besides bruising grips and pulled hair you’ve surprisingly yet to be seriously injured in any way. So maybe monsters do have a little humanity in them.

You're quickly growing to be a fan favorite as of recently, which means more money goes your way, but you're not sure how you feel about all the attention on you. It's most likely because of how often you offer private dances and private rooms to clients. Whatever gets you the most money; the faster you make money the faster you can pay off your debt and be out of here.

Tonight is supposed to be no different from other nights. You perform on stage, you rile up the crowd, you get showered in tips, and if there is a customer that looks mentally sane enough not to murder you in private, you take them to the back. Except, tonight, you're approached by your boss, who informs you that the entirety of the club was reserved by the Fatui, a well-known mafia more powerful and larger than the one that backs you up, for some celebration. These kinds of occurrences in the club rarely crop up, but when they do, they're often the most opportune time to bag in an abundant amount of money. Big shots like the Fatui pay and tip well, but there's one unsaid risk that comes with this: as a mere dancer like yourself, your life quite literally dangles in the Fatuis’ hands tonight. The organization that owns this establishment can't retaliate against the Fatuis if they so choose to dismiss the warning. They can't even compare to the might of the Fatui.

Simply put, if a Fatui kills you tonight, no one could do more besides bat their eyelashes. You're not at all pleased with this predicament of practically bordering on death, especially when you know one wrong move with one too hot-tempered Fatui could land you at the pearly gates. Keep pleasing the crowd, keep entertaining them, keep racking in the money, you remind yourself as you continue your dance, twirling around the pole sensually, and the customers devour every movement with their eyes. The only comfort you're given is that you've heard the Fatui are quite reasonable and diplomatic most of the time. This is especially true for the Harbingers, you've heard, the twelve most elite members that serve under the Tsaritsa, and the ones that are the most exclusive customers this night. That doesn't mean the Harbingers are any more humane than the average crook. Having worked in a strip club run by the mafia and surrounded by criminal organizations, the more rumored something is, the more dangerous it is. They can be considered devils amongst demons even. That's simply how vile they're supposed to be.

The most concerning problem about the Harbingers is that you don’t know what they look like, only the occasional whisper has alluded to how to distinguish between the twelve. Perhaps, you can survive through the night if you try not to draw too much attention; let the other dancers shine instead and hope you don’t get requested for a private room or dance. That way, you can ensure you don’t end up dead.

Your time to go upstage comes sooner than you’re prepared for. Your hands are clammy, and your form trembles in a way that only happened during your first month. Both reactions don’t make for a very good combination when your survival relies on you not fucking up and disappointing criminal customers. As you approach the pole, just like every time you’ve done, you make sure that the crowd’s gazes are in the backdrop of your mind, and instead, fixate on repeating the movements you’ve been taught and have mastered with your experience. Bet your survival on the provocative sway of your hips, the practiced showcase of your legs, and the allure of your dancing form. Beguile the crowd, but not too much, just enough to wow them. From what you can tell by the volume of the crowd, you’re doing a good job pleasing the Fatui enough. Your body stops tremoring after a few minutes on stage, and with one last final push of courage, you focus your eyes on the crowd before you.

Unsurprisingly, the makeup of the Fatui are men, though there are notably quite a few women. Either way, all of their attention is on you. As your eyes scan across a crowd, for one reason or another, you stop at a particular set of eyes near the back of the crowd. Intent, pitch-black abysses stare back, like they were trying to bore into your soul and devour every single motion of yours. They don’t quite hold the same ravenous desire as many of those before you right now, you mentally note with curiosity. It feels like your form is being calculated, in the way a predator would cautiously observe their next prey, a sensation you’ve experienced a few times, but each is no less chilling. The weight of their engrossed gaze causes you to shiver momentarily, and you snap away from their disturbing gaze to prevent any fumbling or faltering while you’re on stage.

Tonight marks the first time you actively seek out the same viewer while on stage, or even, during your entire time here. For some reason, you feel awfully bold, or curious, whichever two comforts you more, and unlike the meek little rabbit you usually are, you instead search for the viewer’s gaze. You find the pair of eyes with relative ease, as you remember that above their eyes are distinctive snow-white strands with streaks as black as their orbs. You take a moment to study them, and they remind you of a lion–or lioness–among hyenas. The aura they exude varied quite a bit compared to the other Fatui in front of you: not rambunctious, or arrogant; it's apparent they held an aura of indomitable authority just from the way they held themselves. Perfect posture with their clasped hands nested in their lap, with one leg raised over the other. They’re an embodiment of perfected elegance, however, much like a porcelain doll, they’re also expressionless, their appearance unmarred. You don’t examine the Fatui’s form for much longer because their scrutiny on you pricks at your skin irritatedly.

You don’t look for them again throughout your performance. In fact, you hope you never meet those charcoal pits again. You’re afraid that if you do, you’ll be ensnared by whatever beastly claws or fangs you know that Fatui hides underneath that impenetrable mask. The moment your time on stage ends, you rush back to the changing room to shake off your nerves. You sit down at a nearby chair, taking in deep sighs as you attempt to forget how you were stared down like a you were cornered, defenseless animal. And that is what you are, as much as you hate it. There’s nothing that can protect you from the Fatui. Maybe if you hide, never show your face for the rest of the night, they’ll forget they ever saw you and they’ll target another dancer. Surely, that will work, won’t it?

You’re able to steady your breathing before you can delve into a panic attack. Tonight, you decide, you’re not going to take any customers to any private rooms or take any private dances. You’d be missing out on a lot of money, but your life is more of a priority as of currently; not after the ‘encounter’ with that individual, you don’t want to think about how many more are just like them, hiding in the crowd like they were awaiting an opportunity to pounce on your vulnerable form.

Unfortunately, it seems like someone else has other plans for you because your manager storms into the room asking for your whereabouts before his eyes narrow on you. You immediately sit up, stiff as a board when he practically marches his way towards you.

"Someone wants you."

You sigh and shake your head. You should have known. "Not tonight."

He clicks his tongue. "You know I can't allow that tonight."

You bite your lip. "Just pass them to someone else."

"They're not someone you or I can refuse."

"Who?" You question with a shuddering breath, your nails digging into your thigh.

"The fourth one. The Knave. Lord Arlecchino."

Fuck your life. You might as well pull the trigger now. You’ve heard faint whispers of each Harbinger from the customers audacious enough to speak of them. The youngest, the eleventh, charming and boyish. The ninth, money-obsessed but a pretty looker. The eighth, elegant and cold, yet no less alluring. The seventh, as human-like as their robotic creations, which to say isn’t very. The sixth, is hotheaded and mysterious. The fifth, unknown. And the fourth?

Insane. Ruthless. Bloodthirsty. That’s how the fourth is described. You shiver at the horrors that appear on the forefront of your mind when imagining what may come for you. If you're lucky, you'll be alive at the end of the night, more than likely clinging to the edge of living.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Get ready as soon as you can.”

And you do. It’s not long until you stand in front of the private room’s door, your guest is already inside more than likely. The Fourth Harbinger is waiting, you remind yourself, fruitlessly trying to swallow down your stress. You can be dead the minute you step inside, this room could be marked as your grave. Whatever he tells you to do, you’ll obey wordlessly to survive. Just nod along, smile, and do whatever it is that he tells you regardless of the demand. You inhale deeply, regaining some ease of mind, before you bring your knuckles to the door, knocking.

“Come in,” comes a deep, flat voice, slightly muffled by its distance but what surprises you is how feminine the Harbinger sounds. Maybe you got the wrong room. You glance back at the room number plate on the door, and it’s the room you remember your manager mentioning. It’s the right room. Maybe someone else? You don’t have time to wonder, however, as you enter the room, knowing that if it is the Fourth, it wouldn’t be wise to keep him (Her? Them? You’ll just stick with ‘them’ now.) waiting.

“Lord Arlecchino?” You inquire as you enter the room, closing the door behind you. Sucking in a harsh inhale, you instantly recognize their distinct hair. It’s them. Your sight is immediately greeted by the figure sitting on the couch before you, sitting in exactly the same way you discovered them–crossed-legged and lounging back with unfaltering confidence. The Knave wears a scarlet blazer over a black compressed turtleneck, with a matching set of crimson leggings. Upon closer inspection, you’re able to make out red irises in their jet-black eyes. Despite the blatant and literal red flag, something about their appearance draws you in even when they scream danger. They’re… you’re not quite sure how to describe them. You admire the unblemished and pale skin, their elegant and rugged demeanor is like the perfect balance between femininity and masculinity. Are they beautiful, or are they handsome? You think both.

Arlecchino stares back at you like they’re considering devouring you then and there. You can’t suppress the shudder that runs down your spine. You’re a sheep before a wolf. There’s something so chilling about them that even with your experience with other clients, none has ever made you feel this way with just their mere gaze alone. This is what separates the average crook from one of the most powerful mafia members you've ever heard of.

You wait for a response but they only continue to observe you. You take the silence as confirmation to your question and that they’re anticipating something from you. Biting back a sigh of resignation, your hands hook underneath the band of your bra top and you lift it just the slightest amount before a cutting voice makes you freeze.

“What are you doing?” the Harbinger demands, their tone chilling and apathetic, making you want to shrink in yourself immediately. Your blood pumps loudly in your ears and your hands tremble a bit. Something about how designing their gaze makes you suddenly self-aware in a way you’ve never felt before another client–you’re practically half-naked in front of them with your skimpy bra top, undergarments, and fishnets and now is the only moment that you've actually considered how little covering is on you.

Why are they stopping you? Isn’t this what they wanted you to do? Or maybe they just want to do it themselves. Those types of customers always have the most bruising of grips and suffocating of holds. You stiffen at the notion. How are you going to survive this night with a Fatui Harbinger of all things? How many of your limbs are going to be fractured and how many of your bones are going to end up broken?

“I…I’m undressing,” your meek voice sounds out and you hate the crack in your speech. The Harbinger continues to scrutinize you. You don’t dare continue disrobing yourself.

There are several beats of wordless response before they then stand up from the couch.

Oh shit. You’ve fucked up. Are they going to kill you now? Is this your end?

Every thought is telling you to run in the opposite direction as they stalk up to you, but you're petrified as you realize with a chill that they’re taller than you. You’re not short by any means, a bit above average height, but they tower over you, looking down at you from above and casting judgment on you like a god. Once they stride toward you, you avoid eye contact by looking straight, observing their neck and clavicle that protrudes from underneath the fabric. You tense when they raise a hand, their manicured fingers placing themselves underneath your chin and long, carmine nails dig into the underside of your jaw, making you wince. They forcefully tilt your head, raising your focus onto their face.

It’s like they plunged their hands down your throat and ripped out the oxygen from your lungs, leaving you unable to breathe. Up close, the first thing you notice is their lips, plump and red from their lipstick. Briefly, you wonder what color their lipstick would look on your skin. Then your eyes travel up, red-crossed eyes gaze back at you and you gape quietly at the distinct shape of their pupils. You swear that their pupils flash red as you finally lock eye contact with them.

“Did I tell you to?” Their tone is cold compared to the strange softness of their handsome (beautiful?) face.

Something in your gut coils inwardly and you want to look away, but their firm hold on your chin prevents you. You bite your bottom lip to repress a whimper. You’re delicate glass in their hands, and they can break you so, so easily.

“No, sir.” Only the numerous times you’ve said this phrase ensures you don’t stumble over your words. They don’t answer promptly, but as they observe your features, their lips quirk up the slightest amount.

“You know how to address me. Very good,” Arlecchino purrs after several beats of silence, in a low, oh-so-sultry tone, and oh. Oh.

You’re not sure why, but their last two words make your stomach churn, but not in a discomforting way. In the way that lights a fire underneath your skin and spreads heat to every part of your body. You’ve never quite felt this way with another customer. You couldn’t believe that your body reacts this way just from a single praise but it doesn’t stop the pooling heat in your bowels. The chill down your spine still remains in place, but there’s an off-putting equilibrium of iciness and fervor generated from the client.

The Fatui’s eyes stay fixated on you wordlessly until the hand on your chin turns your head, finally breaking you free of their intense behold. Their grip slackens so that they can trace their nails gently down your throat, every inch of surface their fingertips brush against ignites a blaze on your skin. A shuddering exhale leaves your lips and it seems like they take notice because from the corner of your eye, the small uptick of their mouth grows. Despite how sensual and probing the Harbinger’s touch feels, there’s nothing lecherous about it–purely just intrigue and fascination. It’s a touch you both have and never experienced before. Cold nails rake against your throat, not enough to mark or scratch, but enough to invoke shivers.

You’re aware you should be terrified, but for a reason you can’t pin down, you can’t jerk away from their touch. You try to reason with yourself it was only because you’re one upset away from getting yourself killed but that reasoning falls apart when their hand gingerly traces your jawline and you make the softest of groans, a barely audible noise of content. Unfortunately for you, the sound seems to have reached Arlecchino’s ears and their expression softens slightly: their eyes narrow less and their brows aren’t as creased. And that smirk–if you could even call it that from how faint it is–becomes a half-smirk.

They pull their hand away and your trance is broken, reality returning back to you as you remember that the person before you is still a Fatui Harbinger, no matter how bizarrely melting their touch was. They turn on their heel and walk towards the couch in front of you; the slightest bit of heaviness is placed on your heart. You remain stationary where you are, observing them as they seat themselves gracefully on the couch, and their attention encounters yours again. Their black pits hold expectancy in them. At first, you’re clueless as to what the criminal desires from you, but then their legs spread apart, an inviting gesture that beckons you and every rational thought leaves your easily swayed mind. Your heart skips a beat, and you're sure this time it's not out of trepidation.

Even if you didn’t command them to, your legs would take you to their seating figure. You stand before them, feeling blatantly disrespectful to look down at Arlecchino, but you await their order. They lean back, lounging laxly against the couch, their posture never lacking their usual self-assurance. It only ties the knot in your gut tighter. You’re aware of what they’re instructing you to do, but the absent confirmation makes you hesitant. It seems like the Knave picks up on this because the room echoes with one definitive spouted word from their lips, authority and dominance ringing through their husky voice.

“Sit.”

Your legs buckle underneath you from the one-worded response, the demand only stoking the consuming fire inside you. Eager to please, you perch yourself on their lap, straddling them, your knees pressed into the furniture below you and encasing both of their thighs between your own.

Oh, you think to yourself as your legs make contact with their thighs. They're firm. And for some reason, that provokes your stomach to churn in itself even more. You're so close to them, enough to feel their breath cascade against your skin.

As you seat yourself, you nearly clumsily topple over, instinctively grasping onto their shoulders for support. Their shoulders are remarkably broad, you regard, well-muscled as well. Their hands creep up on your hips, steady but gentle hands grasping on each bare side of yours to stabilize you. The heat that radiates from their hands is infectious, regardless of the nails that burrow into your plush waist. For the first time, you flush considerably, a sweltering inferno forming in your cheeks and your head fills with dizziness. Their touch is gentle–something you rarely experience with customers–so, so gentle that you would describe it as heavenly. How can someone so inexplicably vile have heaven on their fingertips?

It's not a position you never found yourself in. In fact, it's far from the first time you've been like this with another client. But here, as you're sat on top of the Fatui Harbinger, and red x-pupils search yours, a foreign feeling passes through you. Placing your finger on it, you dubiously think it's bashfulness, but the heartbeat that sings in your ears and pulses underneath your fingertips tells you otherwise, tells you it's something more. Against that, you remove your grasp on their shoulders and place your palm flat against the couch’s surface behind the Knave.

You squirm a bit, nervousness in your form as you remain as still as you possibly can, waiting for any more instructions. All you need to do is act like an obedient doll for them in order to survive; compliance is the best way of ensuring survival with people like these. You feel like you're merely eye candy from the way that their attention flits across your body, but you're immobile throughout the entirety of their observance. Being looked at is much better than any physical interaction. Their hands still cup your hips, but slowly, they descend to the side of your thighs, making your skin feel tingly.

Impulsively, you mumble out a quiet "Sir…" as strange sensations brush against your skin.

The sound surprises you and you feel on edge as their eyes travel from your lower half to your face. You gulp considerably. From their stare, they expect more of a response, a reason for their addressment, but even you don’t know yourself; it seems like an unconscious calling that just rolled off your tongue. You cow underneath their gaze, even when the two of you are at eye level. When you linger in quietude, their hand releases one of your thighs and lifts to your face, supporting your chin while their thumb rests on your bottom lip, unfurling it just the slightest amount to implore an answer from your now parted lips. Gleaming scarlet pupils grip your regard sternly, piercing into you and instilling you to spew something out. Except, you still can’t, now too entranced and lost in the crimson.

“Doll.”

Despite the pet name, it's devoid of any affection or warmth. It's a word that drips of command, a reminder of your place: simply a toy that they can play with however they want, a manipulated and decorated plaything for their amusement. That means you answer to them, and so when they request a response, you're under the obligation to please them. Your survival is in their palms anyway, if they wanted you to dance, you would just so they wouldn’t strangle the life out of you.

However, its implication doesn’t prevent the tingling shudders that wrack your body nor the involuntary clenching of your thighs around theirs. Was it the gravelly voice that aroused your behavior? Your cheeks flare at the knowledge that Harbinger sensed the physical reaction. It shouldn't be possible. It shouldn't be possible, your thoughts repeat, but then they're interrupted by:

"Oh?" Arlecchino inquires to themselves, a stark amusement in their speech. Their red glare illuminates slightly, replacing the lost darkening with a faint glow in their pupils, and the corner of their mouth curls up. It is only then that you discover something entirely new: that monsters can be sinfully, cataclysmically, terrifyingly beautiful and the sight before you is the most exquisite example. A devil has you wrapped in its claws and its fangs readied for devouring but it’s disguised as an ethereal angel; blinded by their perilous allure, you mistake their snow-white hair, their lustrous piercing rubies, their flawless porcelain skin, and their burning, fleeting touches as traits of a seraph. From a measly smirk, you forget the atrocities lying underneath their fingertips and dismiss the hazard their presence holds.

The hand on your thigh rakes its fingers up, red nails trailing across the surface of your fishnet, wrenching out a breathy gasp from you as they travel inwards. Tingling pleasure injects into your veins as you subconsciously lean in, imploring for further sensual contact. A plea sits on your tongue and nests in your eyes as you beg them through your pitiful expression. They drink in your desperation with a slow swipe of their tongue over their lips, and that single action is debauched enough to elicit a soft groan from your throat.

“Well, aren’t you an amusing toy?” They drawl out with a preposing rasp and dark abysses glint with an insatiable hunger.

They smirk enticingly, their thumb running across your bottom lip and smearing your lipstick on their thumb pad. Their grip on your chin tightens a bit, pulling you even closer to them before a shadow casts over you when their face nears. Before you can even fathom their intentions, they descend upon you, closing the distance between the two of you. Your lips are greeted with something pillowy soft and fervently warm, and you sharply inhale from the sensation. Every one of your nerves sings frenziedly, your muscles tense all over, and your heartbeat drums deafeningly in your ears–all of this as your body is engulfed in a fervid tornado of heat that makes you lightheaded with pleasure. It takes you several beats to realize the reason for this is that Lord Arlecchino, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave is kissing–no, kissing is far too intimate, devouring–you voraciously like they're trying to rob you of any air, trying to imprint themselves on your mouth. Their mouth dominates yours, pushing against them with a deep fervor and famished urgency, eager to swallow every bit of shocked noise you make.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to indulge.

You first taste lipstick with a waxy flavor hitting your tastebuds. It’s cold against your lips, yet warm at the same time. But the physical texture and flavor of their lips are irrelevant; there’s only one true manner you would distinguish their taste:

They taste like sin.

The type of sin that’s chocolate coated and sprinkled with colorful toppings; depravity so sweet and charming it makes you reconsider the bounds of right and wrong. Degeneracy is far, far tastier than anything you’ve indulged in before. How can something so evil be so heavenly? Cushiony soft, placidly warm, flatteringly zealous, it’s like having a dance with a devil; so unequivocally immoral but no less gratifying. You question if they really belong to the Fatui because how can something like this come from such? You want to engrave the texture of their mouth onto your memory, feel this faux intimacy even when you’ve long parted. The Fourth Harbinger, you surmise as you surrend your will to them, is decadent–the only word that can be defined as both wicked and delectable at once–the perfect word to describe them.

The last remaining bit of reasoning comes to the backdrop of your thoughts and begs you to not be swept away in the heavenly embrace. You discount it in favor of accepting this godsent gift by leaning further with a weak imitation of their ravishing lips and pressing back. It’s a feeble attempt to match their insatiate nature, far too domineering and forceful than you can manage but they display a token of appreciation when they squeeze your thigh, indenting your skin shallowly with the burrowing of their nails. The action exposes just how sensitive you’ve gone underneath their touch and you reward them with the sweetest of sounds.

“Arlecchino,” you mumble with half-lidded dazed eyes in between ravenous exchanges and it evokes a depraved throaty growl from the Fatui, like provoking a call from a starving beast. They lean deeper to indulge in your taste. The gruff sound reaches your ears and it’s like a psalm–you shudder from its musical melody.

Their clutch on your jaw releases and their fingers outline your jawline before snaking to the back of your head. Well-manicured digits entangle themselves in your hair, and there’s a gentle shove against your skull that forces you deeper into the kiss. Your hands clutch onto the couch underneath you as tight as you physically can for any sense of grounding and your knees attempt to close in even more to feel more of their body against yours. The hand on your leg, in turn, caresses the length of your thigh.

Every graceful touch, stroke, and brush exudes an unyielding and infectious warmth that only adds to the stoking fire in your gut, and you’re bathed in so much swelter from the ecstasy that you feel dizzy. Yet, you never want it to end, you grow more addicted and drunk with each encounter of their lips. That, paired with your strained breathing, prompts your stamina to falter much sooner than the Harbinger’s. You let out a soft whine to signal your depleting oxygen, and their mouth unlatch with yours, pulling away despite your ache for more. With the separation comes a small string of saliva attached between the two of you, evidence of the shared intimacy that’s snapped when they lick their lips. The hand behind your head detangles from your hair and you silently mourn over the loss of contact.

You heave for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. You’re a little perturbed when you notice that they’re not even out of breath, a small but firm reminder that they’re as inhuman as humans can be. That knocks a sense of reality back into you. Customer, mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, it comes back to you like a train. Here you are swapping spit with them while in the lap of potentially the most dangerous criminal you could ever meet, but fuck were they a good kisser–you’ve never experienced anything that came close to this in your lifetime.

Any foolish doubtful contemplation of the morality of this interaction is swept away just like that when you hear:

“Greedy little thing that you are,” they regard with the most cunning and handsome of smiles, discrete amusement dripping from their words. Their dark pits behold you entirely, the same way they have always done when it seems like they were contemplating what part of you to savor the most. Only this time, you’re not so disturbed by the notion. If anything, the swirling heat in between your legs suggests the opposite.

Greedy wasn't a word often associated with you, yet you couldn't more correctly describe yourself in that moment. Greedy. Greedy for a Fatui Harbinger no less. As ashamed as you should be, there's no use denying that you crave for their touch, for their gaze, for anything and everything they're willing to give you. You want everything and more. The more you contemplate, the more it seems obvious why you wouldn’t. Are they a devil disguised as an angel, or are they an angel that fell from grace? Regardless, they bring nirvana to you. An incessant desire bubbles inside you, your throat swelling up with an urgent request on the tip of your tongue. Would they allow such a thing if you plead? Would they be offended by your impudence? Would they punish you for such? But the necessity outweighs any reconsideration of your insolence and the supplicant beg tumbles out of your loose lips.

“Can I… touch you please, my Lord?” You croak out, wincing at just how wretched it comes out. The response from them is not immediate as the two of you stew in silence, a building sense of dejection inside of you. The expression on their face noticeably contorts, smile lessening, their brows furrowing, and their red x’s glinting dimly. Their free hand raises to near your neck and you suck in a harsh breath as their fingers enclose around your throat. The mere action sends a stinging reminder to your lust-dazed thoughts about their position, and a chill pierces you.

Mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave–the labels cycle through your thoughts. Though their grip is lax, not exactly suffocating and giving ample space to breathe, their fingertips does acutely jab into your skin, a display of their impressive grip strength. You have no doubt that they can suffocate you with one hand alone, snap your neck, or, as your mind ventures into more harrowing territories, crush your skull. Those thoughts alone has you breathless with anticipation. A heavy weight suddenly appears in your gut, so heavy that you feel like you can’t move so much as a muscle.

Did you just go too far? Was that too much to ask? Was this how you were going to die?

The reflex to gag and inhale combat each other in your throat, a discomforting sensation that crawls up your spine while you tremble. You’re almost certain that the nails have penetrated the layer of skin, drawing beads of blood that’ll trail down your mark. You whimper at the prickly pain. Yet, in all your unease, the most masochistic thought arrives briefly at the forefront, and you can’t help but consider: this position is just as intimate as all the other interactions. You’re already so vulnerable in their lap, does the hand around your neck change your peril in any way? No, you’ve been a defenseless lamb to a slaughter the moment you’ve stepped into the domain of a menacing wolf.

Ah. Even now, you can’t dismiss the warmth of their fingertips.

“Do you still want to touch me when I do this?” They demand callously, their voice harsh and reverberating through the room. Their grasp closes more around, and you feel your supply of oxygen inhibited. Tears begin to brim your eyes, but you’re undeterred. Unlike Arlecchino’s, your answer is instant and breathless. Your eyes intently lock on theirs, the hardened expression enough to satisfy their question. There’s no need for contemplation. Danger, you determine, is addicting.

“Yes.”

The previously small smile stretches across their lips considerably. Content, or dare you say it, thrill writes itself over their face and the boulder previously pressed against your shoulders is lifted. Your throat is freed from their hold, but their touch doesn’t halt there. Instead, they rotate your head for you to face to the left, exposing your side profile to them. From the corner of your eyes, you watch as their face draws closer to your skin, hot breath cascading across the small dents her nails created. The one on your thigh finally leaves, moving to one of your hips, tender strokes across your flushed surface. They lean forward, and moist, plush skin meets yours. Lips traverse over the length of your neck, teeth scraping against, making you weakly groan. It takes all of your will to still your body, only allowing for the Harbinger to do whatever they desire to your form. Their touches are burning, burning, burning–so hot that you wonder if you’re experiencing a heat wave. Peppered kisses follow the edge of your jawbone, all the way up to your earlobe. A wet kiss graces your ear and then the most sinful of statements dignifies your eardrums, like a devil whispering hymns directly into your ear.

“I think I’ll keep you to myself after this.”

A short hum follows afterward.

“If you want to touch me, you’ll have to work for it. You’re only mine for tonight, aren't you? Entertain me. Give me a private dance, doll. After all, you have me for all night.”

---

Link to M-Alexa's amazing art and how I imagine Arlecchino to look like in this oneshot.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fanfics #guys I'm so tired it's 2AM rn #i have school tomorrow guys #i chose to finish this tonight despite the shit ton of homework I have to do #arlecchino brain rot does that to you #def worth it #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact arlecchino #genshin arlecchino #genshin fics #arlecchino smut #edgeray.writes #edgeray.blog

333 notes · View notes

sl4sh3rsub · 3 months

Text

patrick bateman hcs (nsfw: mdni)

patrick bateman x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warnings: overall pretty toxic, homophobic and misogynistic, there's a lot of infidelity/cheating and drug usage/alcohol too. there is also shaming of sex work - this is purely fictional and i do not condone this behavior in real life. i wrote in these elements because they appear in the original source material, not because i hold these opinions/views. mentions of extreme kink/fetish (knife play, blood play), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), oral sex (giving + receiving), handjobs, cockwarming, implied dom/sub dynamics (patrick is a top + sugar daddy/dom/slight sadist + is entitled, reader is more submissive + sweet), lots of cum + precum/arousal, reader sometimes treated as sex object, marking (bruises, bite marks, hickeys etc.), dubious consent? (overstimulation, he can be manipulative, reader flashes someone in afab section), reference to past rough sexual encounters, lots of sexual tension, patrick is sociopathic(?) + gets hard a lot + is possessive/slightly domestic but still rough, canon colleagues (schrödinger's judgement + they're horny), nipple play, voice kink/voicemail sex, threats/mentions of canon (?) violence (not towards reader), exhibitionism + public settings, consensual filming of sexual acts, gun play/fear play, cigar gets extinguished on reader (research risks properly before trying irl, please stay safe), hired sex worker, mentions of surgery in ftm + mtf sections, rip jean + evelyn's emotions

a/n: i'm a massive fan of the broadway musical (bootleg available on youtube) and i've seen the film twice, but i still need to read the book!! i've listened to this youtube audiobook (ai voice patrick reading it - part one) and it kinda goes hard. anyway, peeb ateman is soft with reader in this one, so it could potentially be a little ooc.

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

patrick is already engaged to evelyn when he meets you. he's very well aware that she's seeing timothy price, so he might as well have his own fun - divorce isn't in fashion this year, so being prepared for that potential outcome might turn some heads and patrick hates judgmental attention

if you're already in a relationship with someone, he'll whisk you away immediately. you deserve so much better than some chump who can't afford to spoil you, he'll prove his superiority with his shiny silver card

show him genuine affection and take interest in his music taste!! if you listen to him and take time out of your day to participate in conversation, he'll abruptly stop mid-sentence to process that you're invested in his recap of his day :( you'll have no issues with him from then out - you respect him and he'll respect you. he's quietly thankful for how kind you are to him

if patrick has a yearning to dabble in a certain kink or fetish - such as knife play or extreme blood play - that you're not willing to participate in, he'll just find someone who can satiate his needs temporarily. no harm done, patrick just wants to make sure he's not taking complete advantage of you - he'll pay for you to have a delicious dinner and fancy hotel for the night, don't worry. he still wants to take care of you and reassure you that no one is taking your place, and that you'll still have him in the morning... he just needs to let out his extreme urges throughout the night

his way of showing affection is brushing his nose against you, whether it be your temple, ear or cheek as he whispers sweet nothings to you. he longs for subtle contact and the gentle warmth of your skin. he's also addicted to burying his face in your neck or pressing his lips against your crown when he fucks you from behind or squirming in his lap, the small puffs of hot air tickling your flushed skin and his lidded eyes rolling at your scent

he digs his fingers into your lower tummy while he fucks you, feeling his cock ram deep inside you - he's shamelessly using you as his own fucktoy, massaging his length to get himself off. the extra pressure against his tip has him shuddering at the delicious sensation

yeah sure, patrick might be a weirdo and a loser but he can fuck you like he loves you (maybe he does) and spare cash to dry-clean your cum off his expensive suits... fair trade, no?

he practically becomes your sugar daddy - you're his personal doll to dress, provide for and parade around proudly. he wouldn't trade the satisfied glint in your eyes, or the rhythm of your glistening arousal dripping on his wood paneled floors for anything. after a long day of spoiling you, he becomes a little selfish in the bedroom and chases his high with no regard for how overstimulated you might get :(

he is obsessed with dressing you to match his personal perception of you - that is to say, have you dressed in a manner that would make atheists reconsider and have the faithful herald you as their new deity. he wants to ensure that everyone know why he worships you the way he does. even if you don't feel confident in your skin, he quietly reassures you that your bashfulness only adds to your charm

you're his personal model and his precious doll - plaything, if you will. after you return to his place from perusing the designer shops, he lounges back with a whiskey in hand and patiently watches you show off your latest purchases on his card. he'll ask you to spin or swap shoes to match the outfit every so often, even asking you to bend down towards him just so he can adjust your collar or hairstyle. if he gets taken aback by how stunning you look in a certain outfit, expect him to get carried away and start panic rambling - he'll explain the specifics of the material, cut or brand as his fingers roam your body with devotion and his eyes greedily drink you in. his voice gets progressively huskier throughout the show until he gets to the expensive undergarments hidden in matte bags and tissue paper - he fucks you in front of the mirror, reveling in the way the material hugs your skin and how your skin shifts as your muscles clench with every thrust

after he warmed up to you, patrick slowly realized how emotionally taxing your early encounters were on you and that you were left feeling used and roughed up afterwards. if he still makes you feel that way after he first admits his affection, definitely let him know - he might want to leave physical marks on you that linger for a week or so after, but emotional damage is the last thing he wants marring your relationship

something that resembles quiet devotion lingers in his gaze, the glint of chandeliers flashing as he quickly shakes his head and denies he was ever staring :( sure, you might not be the stereotypical 'hardbody', but you're more worth his time than all of the other whores that his cock stirs for - you're leagues better than the sluts turning tricks and actually deserve a place in his home, his bed, unlike the simple chicks he picks up from clubs. he actually respects you (though, not enough to acknowledge your independence away from him) and his silent approval - pride, even - of your actions sometimes slips through his mask

whenever you're in the room with him, there is an invisible yet tangible tension that tugs you together. the warm, compressing feeling always hones your vision onto patrick - it drowns out all of the noises and movement around you, grounding you in the all-consuming gaze of your lover. his eyes snap to yours whenever you enter the room and he instinctively feels a bulge growing in his slacks, his pupils dilating as his tongue darts out to dampen his lips. no polite conversation or mundane styling drivel is worth his time when you are in his field of view

patrick genuinely feels his blood thunder in his ears whenever the men at the table make snide remarks about your appearance or belittle you. he is absolutely disgusted at their attitudes and lack of understanding - you are his darling and you deserve to be treated as his equal, at a minimum. however, if the table murmurs about how sexy you look, he's more than willing to show you off a bit - he's proud of what's his, obviously! just don't let the boys get too bold with their 'polite' touches or they won't have fingers in the morning :<

he'll buy you a ring. not to propose, oh god no - he doesn't want to do the whole evelyn debacle again. patrick wants to simply state his territory and claim so that others would be less inclined to approach you (plus, it helps that he doesn't have to vividly daydream about it anymore - it saves brain power)

if he rushes home with dirty, damp gloves and a missing button on his overcoat, he'll forever be indebted to you if you pour him a stiff drink and prepare to call jean to postpone all events the next day

your head gets all fuzzy when his tongue drags along the line of your collarbone and his soft lips ghost down your chest - circling your nipple and threatening you with the edge of his teeth makes the edge of his mouth twist into a smirk. if you meet his gaze, his lidded eyes give away how content he is in this position, with you on top of his lap. his lips sheened with spit and your buttoned shirt yanked open make for an arousing sight

patrick is a big fan of smoking his cigars while you sloppily take his cock down your throat - he gets some sadistic pleasure from putting them out on your spit-soaked thighs, the drool hissing under the scorching heat. it's coincidentally also one of his favourite things to reminisce, running his fingers over your thighs while replaying those memories during boring social events. the scent of his expensive smoke, wafting around him in a saloon, has him drifting back to the sight of his hefty cock resting on your face - the length throbbing with every heartbeat, pearls of salty precum seeping into your soft skin and trailing in thin rivulets down the contours of cheekbone

he is a fan of sneaking a dab of his yves saint lauren perfume onto all of your formal wear, a little mark of him and something to keep you company whenever you're out at functions he's not attending

he drags you out to clubs just to dress you up and show you off under the bright, colourful flashing lights. you have his eye the entire time you're feeling yourself on the dance floor, tempting him your sensual movements from across the room - don't expect him to act on it immediately though, he's more than content to hold your gaze and sip his glass from the bar. if some sleaze dares to get handsy with you, he'll step in and guide you towards the bathroom as his fingers glide down to your lower back - he needs a bump to loosen up and not hurt every single chump eyeing you up. you're his plaything, after all.

if you spend a night at patrick's place, he'll secretly love taking showers with you - only because you help him rub in his cleansers and soaps into his skin, no other reason. certainly not that your devoted, admiring gaze make him flush and whisper his timid thanks under the steady stream of water, the noise lost in the pounding around your ears. ignore his building arousal, it'll stay there and grow even harder when he pleasures you with his tongue on the counter of his stainless-steel kitchen. you're the only one he'll kneel for, and you bet that there's a steamed-up outline of your ass on the countertop when he's done :3

despite his incessant need to fit in, he's never going to blend in while you remain by his side. you bring out that rare smile of his and that soft chuckle in public settings. you far outshine all the other, dull plus-ones at the dinner parties

you are patrick's trump card - everyone he knows either wants to be you or fuck you, they'll do anything to impress (especially if there's false hope of ending the night in bed with one or both of you)

if you're confident enough, you could be his personal little pornstar!! it makes you so giddy, the knowledge that he could show the snippets of the videos to his coworkers (who dream about getting you naked) and make them jealous of the fact that you've cum numerous times with patrick's name on your lips. the video is recorded on the best equipment of course - he can't have you on video while looking anything less than godlike on camera

he orders your favourite dishes at every restaurant, combs and brushes out your hair when you arrive at his apartment, then fucks you roughly while whispering how thankful he is for you. his babbling pleas for you to stay and praise of your existence echo in your mind for hours after, especially as he rests next to you with steady breathing

patrick leaves hickeys and bite marks all over you and while he might apologise while handing you anti-bruise supplements, know that his mind's eye is stuck on the sigh of your skin blossoming under his lips - specifically, the feeling of his teething nipping your skin and the small hum of satisfaction as he pulls away to inspect his work. if you've been good lately, he'll let you leave a hickey or mark on his chest - it's only fair after he leaves you bruised and aching in his arms the next morning :( if you've behaved to his liking, he'll share some of his japanese pear and kiwi for breakfast. you need some sugar to recoup anyway

if he's been snappy or pent up all day, he'll guilt you into taking him with minimal prep - he will snap and go feral if he's had to rein it in at work, plus the stretch feels heavenly around his thick cock

patrick had once ordered a prostitute for the two of you to experiment with - making sure they were a fair balance between your ideal types, bodywise. this plan went a little off script after the foreplay when you and patrick ended up exploring your exhibitionist sides, passionately kissing and languidly exploring each other's bodies while the hire slowly touched themselves at the sight. that precious hour or so was the easiest pay that person had ever made (you and patrick were far from unattractive), plus that champagne that you poured out was heavenly

patrick has you suck him off during skincare routines in the morning and evening, making sure to cum all down your throat. he insists it's good protein for you!! kneeling in front of the bathroom countertop has become second nature to you, the divine sight of your rugged lover above you routinely making you feel at ease

you had better be friends with his secretary jean because you'll see her a lot. if she gets jealous and her failed attempts at sleeping with him affect her capabilities, patrick will simply hire a different secretary. sure, he'll love to flaunt you and taunt them about how they aren't fucking either of you, but that's just part of his fun. he might use the empty threat of fucking you in front of the secretary as a way to keep you from acting out, but he's too possessive to have someone in a different tax bracket see you laid bare

get him spa day gift cards!! you can both spend time in private saunas or pools simply enjoying each other's presence and use the time to caress each other's bodies. use the opportunity to get a full body massage - when patrick has had a rough week, you're more than likely going to end up with a couple bruises and a few sore muscles

while he's never been the most domestic man, the image of you flitting back and forth in his pristine kitchen flicks a switch in patrick's brain. your earnest efforts of making him his breakfast bran muffins and churning his apple butter has him daydreaming of keeping you in his apartment like a pet - at his beck and call constantly, dusting his expensive furniture and preparing his meals whenever he comes home... not to mention how you'd willingly bend over or drop to your knees in a heartbeat if he so desired

if patrick is riding an adrenaline (or cocaine) high when he returns to you, be very careful and tread lightly. he may have an itch to clean his axe or handguns, polishing them until the late hours of the night. when he's in a jittery and frantic state, he isn't above having you spread out on his polished floor as something nice to look at while assembling the firearms, and he's certainly not against fucking you roughly while holding the gun to your head or body. he's even aroused by the though of you sucking off his uzi, spit-slicked metal knocking your teeth as your glistening eyes widen in fear

when you sleep next to him, he might jolt awake at night before realizing your shifting movements pose no threat to him, especially when you're locked into his arms with your soft breath brushing against his skin. when he gazes at you in these dimly lit moments, his mask slips until he feels a semblance of happiness - there's no discomfort, jealousy or boredom, he's content with you against him like this. after a long while of his breathing filling the dark room, his mind forces his walls back up and reverts him back to his usual self just as he drifts to sleep. no one can ever see him like that, see what your presence does to him... not even you

he has a penchant for fucking you infront of his toshiba 30-inch television, a porno tape or horror movie often playing. he loves the way screams - either of ecstasy or pain - fill his ears as you moan beneath him, the colours of the screen dancing on your skin. his cock always pulses just that little bit more whenever you bite his thumb and take his dick deep inside you as the film plays in the background. red is suck a sexual and raw colour after all, why not have the bright screen fill your vision as you cum on his cock? the vibrance drowns out all other stimuli, forcing you to focus on his presence in and around you

imagine the shock on evelyn's face when she shows up unannounced at patrick's place one late afternoon- he's swaying to heuy louis and the news, hands on your hips as you giggle and pour him a glass. his silk shirt loosely buttoned just covers your modesty as he soothingly rubs circles on your thigh, soft grin fading as his gaze frosts over at the sight of his betrothed. she sniffs, scandalized at the sight infront of her, and tells patrick to not bother contacting her - tim price's phone will be unplugged the moment she arrives at his place. to be honest, patrick could not care less. you're in his arms and he knows for a fact that evelyn will be over it soon - if not, there's a more suitable marriage candidate right in front of him. if you feel bad or guilty after evelyn leaves, patrick will do his best with his hands, thick cock, tongue and credit card to soothe your worries

expect patrick to leave desperate and vaguely threatening voice mail messages - his heavy, stuttered breaths echoing in your ears as the slick sounds in the background get you more and more worked up. the depraved ramblings deepen and get hoarser with each passing minute, so you'd better pray jean doesn't walk in - she isn't worthy of seeing him in such a disheveled and flushed state

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

luis is the most understanding of patrick's work bunch - he isn't shy to defend you and be seen in public as your friend, once you are comfortable telling him your secret of course. just make sure everyone knows you're not a part of that yale thing and you'll be fine

although he isn't keen on being open about his relationship with you - for fear of his colleagues and fellow acquaintances of wall street making derogatory comments towards him, or worse, you - majority of the men already have some closeted urge to spend the night with you, yearning to take bateman's place in your bed. let's face it, the cocaine, competition and firm handshakes can only do so much to hide the growing homoerotic tensions between the coworkers. your appeal is wider than you realise, as the compliments and lingering gazes at events would have most outsiders questioning if carruthers was the only gay man present in the social circle

in large social gatherings - such as big dinner parties or company events - patrick is able to hide his hand under the table and keep a poker face while unbuttoning your fly, untucking your shirt and slowly palming you for his own amusement. his bragging of designer clothing, company roles and mentions of a nice house he procured - for you to move into, of course - easily distract the other people on the table from what's happening in their vicinity

if his j&b on the rocks isn't hitting the spot or the cigars his colleagues are smoking feel heavy in his lungs, he'll drag you into the men's room - assuming there's no one in the other stalls, of course. his fly is halfway undone by the time your knees and expensive slacks hit the tiles, his hands mussing your slicked back hair. you'd better take his cock down your throat to the best of your abilities - you don't want an audience to witness you choking and spluttering on bateman's length, do you? of course not, they'll ostracize you in a heartbeat (or so patrick says), so you had better not complain or splutter when he pinches your nose shut and shoots hot ropes down your throat

whenever patrick fucks your ass, he ensures that his mark is left on your supple skin for days later - whether it be a handprint-shaped bruise, crescent nail marks or scratches along your thighs, he needs to have you remembering how well he fucks you. as you sit down, adjust your pants or even just accidentally back into something, patrick is suddenly at the forefront of your mind

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

patrick buys you the finest jewelry and nicest accessories that money can buy - the deal is that you give him handjobs with the sparkling rings on and kisses with the expensive lipstick, luxurious material framing your figure like a dream. he is especially a fan of you wearing jewels that match your eye colour or makeup - when he lifts your hand to press a polite kiss on your fingers, the glittering in your eyes matching his gifts makes his heart skip a beat

when you cockwarm him, his length is so hefty and makes you feel so stretched - the weight grounds you as you struggle to gain friction against your poor neglected clit. you always feel so full when you're perched on his lap, the girth enough to turn off your brain and make you drool. sometimes when patrick is feeling bold, he prepares your outfit for the day and ensures that you're wearing a cute little skirt for easy access :( he can be selfish sometimes, on the occasion that he solely thinks with his dick

patrick loves pushing your knees up to your chest as he fucks you deeply in missionary - the feeling of your swollen pussy lips brushing against his veiny base and your clit grinding against his pubic bone gets him more worked up than he'll ever admit

it's fairly normal to have patrick's hand drift towards your chest in the back of a taxi, his face buried in the crook of your neck. keep your noises quiet or the driver might be curious about what's happening in the backseat. his cold fingers harshly pinching and tugging at your nipples make you abruptly moan into the brisk air in the back of the car, patrick subtly palming himself to the tortured whines leaving your lips. if you make eye contact with the driver, mouth that you're sorry for patrick's behaviour and try to save your dignity by biting your lip to avoid any loud noises. if they make direct eye contact with patrick first, however, expect him to pull a smug grin and flash your breasts to the angled rear-view mirror. he might even hike up your skirts to show off your soaked, borderline see-through panties. sneak the poor driver a tip on your way out because he nearly caused an accident, losing all brain function as his blood immediately drained from his head and rushed to his cock :<

patrick buys you two little platinum charms with a necklace chain, his initials engraved on the back of the heart shaped pendant. the other little shape is an axe, the edge of the blade set with tiny red garnets!! he is main motivation for having you wear it constantly is the fact that it makes a small clinking noise as you bounce on his cock, breasts swaying and your glimmering skin making the necklace a truly beautiful sight to patrick

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his admiring hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

if you're only just getting into wearing masculine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his man and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

you're lucky his designer boxers are easy to clean! every time he catches sight of your muscles tensing, he's undoubtedly leaking into the material. when you're stretching and your shirt rides up, when you grab something from the top shelf or even when you crouch to tie your shoelace - his cock doesn't discriminate so you'd better expect a small, darkening patch. the musk at the end of the day has such a heady rush when you kneel in front of him, his sweaty underwear mere inches from your lips. patrick swears you give his dick a heartbeat whenever you make out with his bulge and especially when you sloppily give him head :3

bateman is a huge fan of quickies with you before meetings with your mutual colleagues - he's booked for lunch after, there's no other time in his schedule to empty his heavy, full balls into you :( his favourite way to spend those precious moments is with you bent over his polished desk, expensive pants crumpled at your ankles and your precum dripping onto the carpet. he is a massive fan of teasing you by pushing his cockhead into your slick boycunt and stroking his cock, edging his length until you're whimpering from the need to be filled. he mocks you for being needy and massages his balls when he finally fills your warm hole with thick, potent ropes of cum. he leaves you unsatisfied and leaking his load for the whole meeting :( splash your face with water and try not to squirm too much in your seat - patrick's classic shit-eating grin might give away the events that transpire mere moments before you both walked into the boardroom

mtf hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

patrick keeps himself well put together and likes to treat you to manicures on shared days out. he'll ask his friend's girls for the best nail salon in the area and insists taking you. after he comes along to pick you up and pay after the set is finished, sometimes he'll immediately take your hands and hum his approval at the colour or design. other times, he'll give you his overcoat and hide your nails until you get in a private area, bathroom or the back of a car - the reveal of your new nails when you slowly stroke his cock, spit slicked hand glistening, makes his eyes roll back in pleasure. your heated gaze and slightly flushed face makes him grin, happy that you're willing to drool on his cock and flaunt his money proudly. the perfect girl, in his opinion :>

if you're only just getting into wearing feminine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his girl and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

patrick's favourite evening activity is fucking you in a mating press - his cock filling you and hitting that deep spot inside you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he loves the sight of your girldick bouncing on your tummy and the shine of your dribbling arousal smearing on your skin. nothing beats a relaxed evening with your tight hole warming his throbbing length

_ _ _ _ _

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

290 notes · View notes

lady-raziel · 18 days

Text

long reaction to the update

ok. so they put out an update video! since i've been commentating for the last three days i might as well subject you all to more of my thoughts today.

main takeaway: this was a good apology video. i mean it. short and to the point, no overproduction, heartfelt and honest (and not a ukelele to be seen. thank god.) they took ownership of the situation, apologized, and restated how much they value their relationship with the fandom.

their solution is to make the watcher tv platform into kind of an iteration of patreon where content is available for early access before it is released onto youtube later. this is clearly a better option than paywalling everything for everyone. i'm not sure what the relative breakdown of costs turns out to be when you compare how much they were making on patreon after the platform took their cut VS how much it costs in overhead to run and maintain their own platform (how much it costs annually to contract via Vimeo, essentially). but i'm sure that's part of the calculation.

all things considered, that does seem like the best option out of all the alternatives. it allows them to not completely abandon any of the pans they have simmering over the fire for the time being. i don't think i ever thought they were going to just say "oops, forget about the streaming thing! let's pretend that never happened!" because at this point they've invested quite a lot of time and money into it, and i don't disagree that keeping it in some iteration may help them make up some of the funds they're lacking.

i would say, it's fine to keep the streamer. this is one of the ok outcomes, all things considered-- but if they're going to do it, they've GOT to do it smart from this point forward. listen to both the fans and the consultants intimately. both are going to have valid points, and both are going to be right. listening to too much of either side will sink this thing because each has motives and expertise that the other doesn't. if the fans say $6 is too much, listen to them-- but have conversations with business consultants about how much you realistically need to charge to make things work.

also, i'd use this whole situation as a learning experience. watcher is a young company, and it's literally inevitable that mistakes will happen. what's different is that the watcher crew haven't really been in a position before where they've been on the receiving end of the internet-angry-justice-hammer to this extent. it's one thing to watch it happen to others, but it's a position of extreme privilege (and a bit of hubris) to think "but that won't happen to me, because i'm built different." naw, man-- two things in life are inevitable: death and fuckups. the callout posts get us all in the end.

what's really important is that they use this as a wakeup call that even the most loyal fandoms will only follow you so far to the cliff's edge, and you don't want to push that. you have to strike a balance between the passion projects that you think are worthy and the stuff that maybe doesn't excite you as much anymore but the people want to see. a little fanservice keeps the lights on, as unfair as that might seem. i'm gonna make 50 markiplier choccy milk memes just so i can make one niche political joke once and a while for 6 likes. it is what it is.

i'd also use this as a chance to take a very careful look at company structure and finances. it's not fun to do and nobody likes it. trust me-- this is hard whether you're a single adult trying to pay the bills or the freaking US government (speaking from experience on both-- i have to read the president's budget for work frequently). but you all have to ask hard questions about the ratio of creative staff you take on VS staff for administrative and other business roles, as well as the costs and benefits of everything you spend money on. how many staff members are essential to location shoots? can this video be shot with 2 cameras instead of 3 and thus you don't need another cameraperson? you might even have to come to the decision that instead of pitching a new show it makes more sense to use those funds to hire your essential non-creative roles or contract firms or freelancers.

paying staff a fair wage with benefits speaks highly of what watcher wants their values to be. it's hard to find such a position in a creative role and still actually get to work on things you care about. but it would be much worse if watcher didn't make realistic decisions about finances and it lead to the death of the company and everyone losing their jobs. the whole watcher company can work, in my opinion, but not without some sacrifices. they're going to have to run it more like a business and less like a youtube-channel-turned-business in the future if they want to survive.

last thing i'll add is that while i do think this was a good apology video, i still think they hurt themselves by not putting out some sort of statement on Friday or Saturday just to say that they were formulating a response. As i've said in other posts, it's ok and in fact beneficial to not make a kneejerk reaction, but it's also very important to communicate that you SEE what's happening. you SEE what people are saying and THAT'S why you need more time to respond. saying nothing and leaving the angry public to wonder if you dropped your phone off the Hoover Dam or just don't care? that's a fumble. it's a common mistake companies make in a crisis, but that doesn't mean it doesn't erode trust fast.

this could have been handled better in many ways. we see that, and i'm glad watcher says they see that too. crucial going forward is taking all this and patching the errors that caused all this to fall apart and learning from the experience.

tbh at this point what i'm most sad about is that the watcher crew have probably been too stressed out and upset to appreciate some of the absolute bangers people have been laying down to clown on them. i think if it wasn't about them they might be touched by the collective attitude and creative spirit. /j

#watcher #watcher tv #after this post i have got to actually not spend time writing long reactions about this anymore because i too #have fires caused by my own fuckups to put out #alas

228 notes · View notes

lilirari · 7 months

Text

𐙚 ⋆୨୧˚ KING OF MY HEART ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. summary : charles' girlfriend releases an album full of love songs to commemorate his special day.

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. pairing : charles leclerc x fem! singer! reader

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. faceclaim : cho miyeon of (g)i-dle

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. author's note : ahhh this is my first f1 related work + smau !! happy birthday to charles my beloved ❤️‍🩹 he deserves all the love & happiness in this world T_T making this made me realise that i don't know much western celebs with suitable fcs for smaus like this 😭 please do comment some western fcs so that i can use them in my next smaus ! anyways it's a little rushed honestly but i hope you'll enjoy it <3

yourinstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lewishamilton and 20,127,345 others

tagged charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, leclerc_pascale, carla.brocker, joris_trouche, riccardoberetta, mlnmarta

yourinstagram summertime happiness 🤍🫧

view all 2,129,567 comments

charles_leclerc my pretty girl ❤️‍🩹

yourinstagram i love you baby <3

charles_leclerc i love you more, mon amour

yourinstagram i love you most !!

landonorris ew get a room 🙄

charles_leclerc you're just jealous because you're still single and you got no rizz

landonorris I HAVE RIZZ

yourinstagram LMAOOOOO ok sure pinocchio 🤥

landonorris you guys are BULLIES

yncharles4ever omg my parents !!! they look so good 😭😭

pinkyn the hair, the fit, the smile.. everything about yn >>>>

luvleclerc CHARLES' DIMPLES 🥹🥹🥹

ynlover127 HELPPPP NOT Y/N AND CHARLES GANGING UP ON LANDO AND HIS NO RIZZ AGENDA

motheryn they're right though.. he doesn't have rizz 😭

landonorris HEY I DO HAVE RIZZ !!!!

danielricciardo sure mate.. you keep telling yourself that

landonorris I THOUGHT YOU WERE ON MY SIDE DANNY

danielricciardo i AM on your side.. it's just that charles, y/n and all the others are right

liked by yourinstagram and charles_leclerc

landonorris i hate it here you're all bullies

yourinstagram we love you too lando 🫶

landonorris 🚶🏻‍♂️

mlnmarta the most gorgeous girl ever !!!

carla.brocker my sister 🥺💗

leclerc_pascale je t'aime, ma belle-fille ❤️

yourinstagram je t'aime maman 🩷

lorenzotl ❤️

arthur_leclerc je me suis bien amusé, belle-sœur ☺️

yourinstagram aww, i had fun too, thur ! 🥹🤍

cl16supremacy he called her sister-in-law !!! this is not a drill !! i repeat this is not a drill !!!!

httpsyn i love how y/n is so close with all the members of the leclerc family and not just charles :( <3

arthlercluvr "belle-sœur ", " ma belle-fille ", " my sister ".. she's definitely a part of the family now

teamoyn y/n i love you and i'm happy that you're spending time with your loved ones but when are you going to come back ? 😭

iheartyn the lack of y/n content (music wise) is killing me

ynisqueen the y/n drought will end soon stay strong my brothers and sisters

ynsglasses i wish i had a positive mindset like you 😭

ynisqueen TRUST ME SHE'LL BE BACK SOON !!! i can sense it

ynsglasses i hope you're right 😞🤞

yourinstagram 30 seconds ago

seen by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, oliviarodrigo and 6,098,154 others

yourinstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, taylorswift, f1 and 17,985,046 others

yourinstagram my new album 'reputation' will be out on october 16th ! this is by far my best album yet and i'm honestly so proud of the songwriting i've done for this ! i can't wait to share it with you all <3 you can pre-order it now on my site ! special thanks to taylorswift for directing the music video and guiding me throughout the whole journey of making this album happen 🤍🖤

view all 3,902,124 comments

charles_leclerc my stargirl !!! ☆

charles_leclerc wait oct 16... it's releasing on my birthday ???

yourinstagram yes 🤭

charles_leclerc judging by the aesthetics of these photos, your story update and seeing all the fan theories on x... i didn't do anything wrong, did i ? you're not going to break up with me through this album, are you ?

yourinstagram HELP CHARLES NO YOU DIDN'T AND NO I'M NOT 😭 you could never do anything wrong in my eyes.. i love you too much :( ♡ also you really shouldn't be on x reading those theories.. i can assure you that they're like only 10% accurate or so

charles_leclerc okay, love, i trust you 🤍 i can't wait to listen to it ! i'm sure it'll be amazing !

liked by yourinstagram

taylorswift i had lots of fun helping you, sweetheart ! i'm going to be streaming it on all platforms once it's out ☺️🤍

yourinstagram you're so sweet 😭😭 love you sm xx

oliviarodrigo the queen is back 🗣️🗣️🗣️

conangray BESTIE'S GOING TO EAT AND DEVOUR

lanadelrey 🤍🖤

danielricciardo album of the year

yourinstagram danny it's not even out yet 😭

danielricciardo i don't care it's the album of the year i'm already calling it

yourinstagram pleaseee i love u thanks for the support 😭🤍

yncore daniel's so real for this

stargirlyn we stan a supportive bestie

lilymhe YOU'RE SO GORGEOUS 🖤

francisca.cgomes my beloved ♡

landonorris i don't care if there's like only two months left before this year ends this album and all the songs are going to top my spotify wrap just you wait and see

yourinstagram NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT

landonorris NEVER GIVE UP RAHHH the grind is real !!!! 🗣️💪🔥

maxverstappen1 IT'S ABOUT DRIVE IT'S ABOUT POWER

oscarpiastri WE STAY HUNGRY WE DEVOUR

maxielmisser HELPPP WHAT IS WITH THIS REPLY SECTION

charlesxyn LMAOADHSHDH OSCAR ????

estiesbestie this is the funniest shit i've seen all day they're all so unhinged

goatifi wtf did fia feed the drivers today 💀

therock did someone call ?

ynnation IMCRYIGJSHDHSHD

carlando455 NOT THE ROCK APPEARING OUTTA NOWHERE GOODBYE

scuderiaferrari we'll be tuning in as well 😉

iheartyn y/n's reputation era... oh, she's so going to get back at all her exes, isn't she ?

24hrsofyn i was thinking the same thing too but she told charles that only 10% of the theories are true so...

ynarchive i think the aesthetics of this album might actually be misleading us and the songs might turn out to be so lovey dovey or 🩷🥰🧚🏻‍♀️💐🌈🍭

rosesforyn you're probably right ynarchive

leclerc_pascale impatiently waiting for the album to drop 🥰

ynisqueen YOOOOO WHAT DID I TELL YOU GUYS

anythingforyn never doubting you again girl

yncity next time we're on a y/n drought again, i'm coming to you

ynisqueen i feel so powerful

charles_leclerc

liked by yourinstagram, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 9,998,709 others

charles_leclerc feeling sorry for carlos for the issue on his car today. crossed the finish line p5, it was the maximum we could've done today. by far the hardest race of my career physically... gonna sleep well tonight 😅

also big congrats to max for winning his third championship !

view all 908,347 comments

yourinstagram you did so good, my darling 🥺🫶 i'm so proud of you !!

charles_leclerc merci, ma chérie ❤️‍🩹 please come to bed now.. i can't sleep without you

yourinstagram omw, baby <3

maxverstappen1 thanks mate ! you drove well today 💪

scuderiaferrari incredible effort, charles 🔥

schumisworld the third picture... i just know he's looking at y/n

leclerc_pascale repose-toi bien, mon fils 🫶

carlossainz55 ❤️

charlos.lesainz we love you charles 🥰

ferrarilover the way he's looking at y/n in the last pic.. he's so down bad fr 😭

pumamotorsport proud !! sleep well ❤️🤝

f1withamy sleep well, my goat !!!

ynsbiggestfan i need someone to look at me like the way charles looks at y/n 😞

yourinstagram & charles_leclerc 1 minute ago

seen by landonorris, conangray, pierregasly and 4,127,299 others

yourinstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari and 27,982,000 others

tagged charles_leclerc

yourinstagram joyeux anniversaire, mon amour ❤️‍🩹 you've been by my side since day one and i can never thank you enough for everything you've done for me. i'm so proud of how far you've come and everything you've accomplished till now. i know that you'll achieve your dreams someday because you're the most determined and hardworking person i know so don't give up and just keep on trying to reach your goals, love.

and yes, the entire reputation album is my birthday gift to you. i couldn't just write a single song for you and leave it there so i went ahead and composed a whole album only for you. i hope you'll like your gift :p

i'm so glad to have met you on that one fateful day and i'm super proud to call you mine. you are my starboy, my home, the king of my heart and i will love you forever & always.

view all 4,098,346 comments

charles_leclerc merci beaucoup, ma bien-aimée. je t'aime pour toujours 🤍

yourinstagram je t'aime, charles 🥹

landonorris you guys are so cute it's sickening 🤢

leclerc_pascale 🥰

scuderiaferrari the best couple on the paddock everyone !! we're so glad charles has such a wonderful partner like you, y/n 🫶

scuderiaferrari also reputation's been on repeat the entire day ! our queen slayed !!!

liked by yourinstagram

redbullracing happy birthday charles !! and congratulations on the success of reputation, y/n ❤️🔥 our drivers have been bopping their heads to the songs all day long !

yncharles4ever MY PARENTS 😭😭 I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE

reputationyn REPUTATION IS SO FIRE, Y/N !!! U DID AMAZING WE LOVE YOU

ynshousewife the king of her heart 🥹🥹🥹

ynisaqtpie imagine getting a whole album dedicated just to you on your birthday.. charles is the luckiest man ever

conangray goals !!! <3 loved your new album, bestie 🫂🫶

mlnmarta cutest lovebirds 🫶

joris_trouche ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc

liked by yourinstagram, f1, sebastianvettel and 15,128,288 others

tagged yourinstagram, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, leclerc_pascale

charles_leclerc 26 👑 celebrated today with my family. thank you all for the wishes and gifts, really appreciate it 🫶

also, to my darling y/n : thank you for making my day extra special by giving me the best birthday gift ever. i will cherish you and this album forever. i adore you so much, ma chérie, my end game, the queen of my heart 😘

view all 4 comments

yourinstagram you're too sweet, baby ☹️ ily ily ily mwah <3

leclerc_pascale je t'aime mon doux enfant 🥰

arthur_leclerc 🫶

lorenzotl ❤️🔥

comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc & yourinstagram 1 hour ago

seen by pierregasly, georgerussell63, carmenmmundt and 10,237,905 others

775 notes · View notes