#well actually that last one might come back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pucksandpower · 1 day

Text

Hydrate or Diedrate

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: after an issue with his car leaves Charles racing without water for the entire Miami Grand Prix, he wants to hydrate with something only you can give him

Warnings: 18+ content and lactation

The Miami sun beats down relentlessly as you make your way through the paddock after the race. Charles had an eventful day, managing to bring his Ferrari home in P3 despite having no water in his car for the entire Grand Prix.

You spot him being interviewed by the broadcast team, sweat still glistening on his face and his hair matted to his forehead. Though he seems coherent, you can tell he’s feeling the effects of the dehydration.

As soon as the interview wraps, you rush over and take his arm. “Come on, let’s get you out of this heat.”

Charles gives you a grateful smile. “I’m fine, I promise.”

You shake your head sternly. “Don’t give me that. You’re clearly dehydrated.” You glance around and wave over Charles’ best friend. “Can you take Jules for a bit?”

Joris nods and gladly takes your four-month-old son from your arms, expertly cradling the bundled infant. “Of course, go take care of him.”

You guide Charles into the air-conditioned Ferrari motorhome and down the hall to his driver’s room, closing and locking the door behind you. Charles immediately faceplants onto the couch with a groan.

“It was so hot out there. I could barely see straight those last few laps,” he mumbles into the cushion.

You settle onto the couch next to him, rubbing his back soothingly. “I know, I could see it on the screens. You did amazing to hang on for that P3.”

Charles rolls over onto his back, squinting up at you. “Do we have any water in here?”

“Of course.” You grab a bottle from the mini-fridge and hand it to him.

He wastes no time downing half of it in one long gulp. “Ahh, that’s better.” His eyes drift down to your chest, where your nursing bra peeks out from under your shirt. “Actually … I have an even more effective idea for rehydrating.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And what might that be?”

Charles sits up, a playful glint in his eyes as he sets the water bottle aside. He reaches for you, bunching the fabric of your shirt in his fists. “This.”

With one deft tug, he frees your breasts from the confines of your top. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he takes in the sight.

“You know that’s not really what they’re for, right?” You tease, trying not to get too flustered.

Charles scoots closer until your bodies are flush together. His hands roam over your chest reverentially. “I think this is the perfect use for them.”

You shiver at his touch, arousal already beginning to pool in your core. “I don’t know, they’re usually just for feeding Jules ...”

“Well, think of this as multi-purpose.” Charles leans in to press kisses along the swell of your breasts.

Despite your banter, you’re already melting under his touch. “I … ah … I suppose you could use some rehydrating.”

With a low hum of approval, Charles takes one rigid peak into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it firmly, coaxing out the first few drops of your milk.

A soft gasp escapes your lips at the wet heat of his mouth. You tangle your fingers in his sweat-damp curls to hold him close. “Charlie ...”

He only responds by increasing the suction, hungrily drawing more of your sweet essence. You bite your lip to stifle a moan as he switches to your other breast, lavishing it with the same rapt attention.

All too soon, Charles pulls back with a satisfied smack of his lips, chin and mouth glistening. “Delicious ...”

“You have no idea how hot that was,” you pant, completely transfixed by the erotic image he makes.

A cocky grin tugs at the corner of Charles’ mouth. “Oh, I think I do.” He presses his palm to the front of his race suit, making it obvious just how aroused he is. “Want to help me with this?”

“Absolutely,” you purr, pushing him back against the arm of the couch to straddle his lap.

Charles groans as you grind down against the hard bulge in his suit. “You’re a tease, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one.” You lean in to capture his lips in a heated kiss, all tongue and teeth.

One of Charles’ hands threads into your hair to angle your mouth more firmly against his. The other drifts down to grope your ass, pulling your hips flush with his.

You rock against him shamelessly, addicted to the delicious friction. He meets each grind with a roll of his own hips, quickly reducing you both to panting, needy messes.

“I want you,” Charles rasps against your lips. “Need to be inside you ...”

“Yes ...” You fumble for the zipper of his suit, desperate to free him. “God, yes, take me ...”

He surges up to kiss you again, all heat and urgency and unbridled want. You can taste the tang of your own milk on his tongue and it’s so dirty, so sinfully hot that it makes your head spin.

Finally, you manage to tug the fire-retardant fabric down far enough to free Charles’ straining erection. He hisses at the friction of your hand on his bare length.

“Hurry, mon amour,” he pleads, deft fingers already working to divest you of your underwear. “Need to be inside you ...”

No sooner is the scrap of lace pushed aside than Charles is guiding himself to your entrance. You sink down in one endless slide, stretching deliciously around his girth to take him to the hilt.

“Fuck ...” He bucks up into you with a choked groan.

You whimper at the exquisite fullness, rolling your hips to take him even deeper. Already you can feel the tight heat beginning to gather low in your belly.

Charles grips your hips hard enough to bruise, guiding your movements as you start to bounce on his length. His head falls back against the couch with a thump, mouth falling open in ecstasy.

“You feel so incredible,” he pants, meeting your thrusts with shallow rolls of his own hips. “So hot, so tight ...”

“Only for you,” you gasp out between moans, bracing your hands on his heaving chest.

He slides one calloused palm up to toy with your neglected breast, rolling the stiff peak between his fingertips. You cry out at the new stimulation, walls fluttering around him.

“Going to come just like this,” Charles grunts, increasing the pace. “Make such a mess of you.”

The thought of him painting you with his release has you clenching down hard. You ride him with wild abandon now, chase that electric high.

Charles leans up to suckle at your other breast, drinking you down greedily even as his hips snap up to meet yours. “Yes, just like that, fuck!”

With a broken shout, your orgasm slams into you like a freight train. Every muscle locked rigid, toes curled, as molten bliss washes over you in waves. Charles follows a beat later, still thrusting fitfully as he spills deep inside you with a guttural growl.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room are your harsh pants mingling together as you float down from your highs. Charles peppers sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder and neck, gradually gentling the movement of your joined bodies.

“Incredible,” he murmurs against your salty skin. “Absolutely incredible.”

You hum in satiated agreement, nosing at his hairline. Eventually you pull back far enough to take in his thoroughly debauched state — hair wild, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and red.

So beautifully wrecked because of you.

“Feeling rehydrated now?” You can’t resist teasing.

Charles lets out a breathless chuckle, warm palms sliding up and down your back. “More than I could have ever imagined.”

But the sound of the door opening makes you both freeze.

“Oh mon dieu!” Joris exclaims with a bark of laughter, looking thoroughly amused as he stands in the doorway cradling Jules. “I was just coming to return your son, but it looks like you two are already hard at work on the next one!”

You yelp and scramble to cover yourself as Charles groans in embarrassment, burying his rapidly reddening face against your chest.

Joris is already backing out of the room, Jules blissfully unaware as he continues chuckling to himself. “Never mind, never mind! I’ll just leave you lovebirds to it ...”

The door clicks shut and you can’t help but dissolve into nervous giggles against Charles’ shoulder. He joins in, the rumble of his laughter vibrating between your bodies.

“Well, that was mortifying,” he says once you’ve both calmed down some.

“At least Jules is too young to understand.” You press your smile to Charles’ hair. “Though Joris is never going to let us live that down.”

Charles groans again, but you can see the beginnings of a sheepish grin. “I don’t even care. That was more than worth the embarrassment.”

He tightens his embrace around you, settling in to simply enjoy the closeness for a while longer. You’re inclined to agree — a little teasing is a small price to pay for such blissful rehydration.

907 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 1 day

Note

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

AHHHHH CONGRATS CONGRATS CONGRATS

how about like secret royalty, like very princess diaries-esque, with sirius???? he's basically royalty anyway, so either him or reader suddenly entering his world would be so cute

Thanks lovely <3

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 1.2k words

With the early arrival of the visiting king, the uproar the palace (You’re actually not sure what you’re supposed to call this place. Castle? Mansion? Home? (You really hope you’re not supposed to call it home, that seems awfully quick.)) has been in since your arrival triples in severity. Your grandmother completely disappears, the nice older man who’s been showing you around goes with her, and when no one wants to take on the problem of the new and completely untrained princess, you’re shooed into the nearest sitting room to wait things out.

“Well, this has to have been a mistake.”

You give a start, turning in place to find a young man stretched out like a cat on a settee by the window. He has longish, dark hair that spills like ink over the green upholstery and cunning eyes that are narrowed curiously on you despite his disinterested countenance.

“Or I suppose maybe your team’s just stashed you here the same way my father’s stashed me,” he says, and the voice that emerges from that small, pretty mouth is just as smooth he looks like it would be, self-assured and infused with an accent that speaks to a privileged upbringing. “I don’t imagine they’d like knowing their new pet is cavorting with her equals so early on.” An untrustworthy smile curves his lips. “Could be fun. Should we ring for food?”

You have half a dozen questions, but what makes it out is, “Pet?”

The boy tilts his head, giving you a knowing look. “You’re an unhousebroken puppy, sweetheart.” His eyes dip to the dress they’d put you in this morning, skimming their way back up to your face and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “A very pretty one, but as far as royals are concerned, an embarrassment. From what I hear, that’s hardly your fault, though.”

You sit a cautious distance away from him, on a parallel couch. The afternoon sunlight spills over the top of his settee and hits your eyes, but you bear it rather than move.

A week ago, a couple of days even, you wouldn’t have been able to make eye contact with someone like this. But though this boy is prettier and speaks more brashly than nearly anyone you’ve come across, you’ve grown remarkably used to novelty since being sat down in front of relatives you didn’t know to be told that you were heir to a country you’d never heard of. One upside to the chaos of the last few days is, you suppose, it might be making you braver.

“Who are you?” you ask.

“Oh, my god.” He smiles, seemingly delighted. “You really are brand new, aren’t you? I’m not trying to sound arrogant,” he says at your flustered look, “it’s just we’re usually trained to know important people before we ever meet them. It’s not every day I come upon someone who actually has no idea who I am.”

A little laugh trips off your tongue. You tell him, “You’re not making your not-arrogant point very well.”

“Well, I never said I wasn’t arrogant.” That dastardly grin again, slicing across his face like a weapon. “I said I didn’t want to sound arrogant. I’ve been told it doesn’t make a very polite first impression.” He stands, graceful limbs unfurling, and starts for the door. “I’m Sirius. Are you hungry?”

You nod dazedly as he crosses the room, and it’s only then that you realize he’s wearing a suit. Or, parts of one. The jacket and tie have been cast off, hung over the arm of the settee, but he’s still wearing the pants (thank god) and a dress shirt that appears blue in the light but otherwise is so dark it might be black.

Sirius opens the door, murmuring to someone outside. When he’s done, he heads for you instead of the settee. Kicks his shoes off and settles in across from you, legs crossed underneath him like you’re at a sleepover. You decide to follow suit, turning to face him and trusting the length of your dress to protect you from scandal as you tent your knees in front of you.

“That’s better,” Sirius says, and his eyes look different with the light cutting across them. Before, they’d been in shadow, but now they’re the color of heavy clouds, a faint bluish hue brought out by his dress shirt. “You looked stunning with the light on your face, but you’re even lovelier when you’re not squinting. I asked for someone to bring us chicken nuggets, is that alright? You’re not vegetarian, are you?”

You’re surprised at the choice, but that quickly gives way to relief. You feel a smile tugging at your lips at the banal normalcy of it. After the five-course dinner you’d had the night before that had tormented your unrefined stomach for hours afterwards, chicken nuggets sound like a dream.

“That’s good,” you reply, and Sirius returns your smile with feeling. “Who were you talking to out there?”

“A member of my detail is just outside the door,” he explains airily, as if security details are something everyone has and talks about on a routine basis. Your astonishment must show on your face, because he raises a slender eyebrow. “You don’t have one? I suppose not every kingdom does. Or, if you haven’t left the palace, you might not have met yours yet.”

“You said your name was Sirius.”

“I did.”

“But you didn’t say your last name.”

Sirius’ lips twist wryly. “I did not.”

Maybe it’s his own audacious manner, but you feel like you can be straightforward with him. “Why not?”

He shrugs and lists sideways, leaning his shoulder against the back of the couch. “Maybe I’m still enjoying the novelty of you. I don’t often get to talk to people without all the genteel manners and button-up-ed-ness.”

You tilt your head. “You’re one of the Black family, aren’t you?”

Sirius nods, looking unsurprised you’ve figured it out. It’s obvious he’s royal, so it really wasn’t that far a leap. He doesn’t look like any of the family you’ve met so far, and the only other royals are the ones visiting.

“So does that make you the king’s son?”

“There are two of us, actually.” He mirrors you, tilting his head so it’s resting against the couch. “But I’m the oldest, so I get to go on all the fun trips.”

You feel your lips twist again. “Yeah, you seem like you’re having a blast.”

“Oh, let there be no misunderstanding, doll.” He straightens, looking you in the eye. It feels like being under a spotlight, and it’s all you can do not to look away. Sirius grins. “This is my fun face. I’m having a far better time with you than I have at any of these things in years.”

“Oh.” You can’t help it now, and your gaze flees down to the skirt of your dress. You take a bit of the fabric between your fingers, distracting yourself with the extraordinary silkiness of it. “Well, happy to help. Maybe while your family is here our paths will cross again.”

You look up, and his expression has softened into something nearing genuine. “I’ll be sure that they do,” he says.

171 notes · View notes

astarionancuntnin · 3 days

Text

Die For You

summary: the ascension changed the person Astarion was, or so you believed. you broke up and parted ways after defeating the netherbrain, thinking it was for the best, but when you see him again 6 months later at the reunion, you realize you never truly moved on.

and it seems neither did he.

rating: E

word count: 3.6k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader) (fic wide), shadowheart x you (chapter 1 specifically)

cw: 18+. angst, smut, porn with plot, porn with (some) feelings, ascended astarion, bad breakup, awkwardly avoiding your ex, alcohol induced sex, rebound sex (in the sense that youre trying to forget about your ex but you might have feelings for that other person too), oral sex, fingering, stalking, kidnapping, mild violence.

a/n: i have been working on this for over a month now, i have 2 other chapters also ready BUT im undecided on which ending i want for this, so yall get chapter 1 as a teaser, let me know whatcha think :eyes:

a/n²: this is the start of a long fic (my first one, phew)! i intend to update it weekly-ish, i GREATLY appreciate comments as it helps me test the waters on whats to come with it

read on ao3

or keep reading down below~

I thought maybe we would kiss tonight

Baby will you kiss me already and

Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart?

Baby, bang it up inside

The ascension was complete. He actually went through with it. 7000 souls, gone.

Astarion, The Vampire Ascendant.

He convinced you that it’s what was necessary. You thought this would bring him peace. It’s what he wanted. You loved him, and you would’ve gone to the ends of the world for him; in your eyes, after everything he'd been through, it's what he deserved.

“I can hear it at last, how all the lowly creatures of this plane are begging to serve.”

But now that it was done, you couldn’t tell if he was still him. If the vampire before you was still the same you spent that first night in the woods. That same one who admitted to have fallen for you. The same one who thanked you for taking a stand against Araj at Moonrise Towers. And if he wasn’t, who was he now? Did he have anything left from his previous self? And could you still love him if he didn’t?

"The world will stir in fear."

The walk back to camp that day was dreary. As Astarion walked ahead of everyone with his newfound confidence, you were dragging your feet behind the rest of your party. The weight of what you had done, slowly setting in. Your friends asked about your well-being and you reassure them all that everything’s fine! It was just a big day! And you simply couldn’t wait to finally rest. You didn’t have the heart to admit that you were regretting what you had encouraged Astarion to do.

Back at the Elfsong, you wave to your companions an early good night as you are heading to bed, before Astarion pulls you aside.

“My consort, we are so close to our triumph, I can almost taste it.” Even his tone was different. What you used to qualify as theatrical was now leaning towards dramatical.

You freeze and look at him dead in his eyes. Every part of you is looking for any proof at all that he was still himself. After all, you had no way to know if the 7007 souls sacrificed also included his own.

“Please don’t touch me,” your voice comes out colder than intended.

“Why so cold, dearest?”

You pull away from his grasp, “Just, what in the Hells happened to you in there?” The words come out of their own, tainted with sadness.

“Why, I became a better version of myself. The very best, dare I say. And I have no one else but you to thank for it.”

You scoff as you step back, not believing this new attitude he gained along with his ascension. “Whatever happened in there killed the Astarion I knew.”

“Good,” he lifts his chin in disdain, “he was weak and pathetic.”

“NO!” you almost shout, your voice cracking. “He was healing. I loved him. Whoever you are now embodies everything you hated in Cazador.” Each word of your last sentence is said with more venom than the last.

His eyes narrow with anger, “How DARE you speak his name?”

He steps towards you as a threat, and for a moment you see the violence in his eyes, but you stand your ground, not breaking eye contact.

“We’ll defeat the Netherbrain together. But after that, I want nothing to do with you.” you say, your anger matching his.

“So be it. If you’re too stupid to see what you’re losing, then you never deserved to have it in the first place.”

You give him one last angry look before walking to your bed, muttering to yourself as you feel tears swelling up.

“Letting you go through with that ritual was a mistake.”

—

You follow through with your promise. With the Netherbrain gone and your tadpoles vanished, nothing kept you together anymore. You parted ways with all your companions, going out on your own, wherever your next adventure guided you. Finally, a normal life, or something closer to it, anyway. You did miss most of them, for what it’s worth; you considered them your family. You often wondered how Wyll and Karlach were faring in the Hells, and how Lae’zel’s quest to take down Vlaakith was going; you even considered offering your help at one point, but after ending things with Astarion, you needed to be alone. The breakup hit you harder than you expected, it left your heart with a void. He looked happy following his ascension, so why couldn’t you be happy for him? Why was this so hard on you? It’s not something you had ever experienced in your past relationships, usually able to move to the next one rather quickly. You didn’t naturally get attached to people, you used to think that nothing lasts forever, and relationships weren’t an exception. This damned vampire proved to you once again that you were right, although you wished for once you weren’t. He took up all your thoughts, and you had to do something to wash him away.

You occupied your time best by helping people in need, taking bounties left and right, roaming the lands and fighting monsters. Anything that would help keep your mind busy. It did work for some time, and as long as you were actively doing something, focused on the task at hand, but the moment the night set in and you laid to rest, you were back at square one.

You felt guilty about Astarion’s ascension.

It had been your one and only mistake. You let yourself be blinded by the rose-coloured glasses of your love for him, and although you meant well, you’re very conscious of the damage this decision had on him and potentially the city, but also the 7000 souls sacrificed in the process. Granted, they were already spawns and there was no way to save them from this fate, they could’ve at least have had a chance at living in the Underdark. Yes, you had saved the city – damages aside – lifted a curse, freed everyone and yourself from the Absolute, defeated the chosens of the Dead Three, but your mind always drifted to Astarion’s fate. What if you had stopped him? Surely, your life would be different now. You would be roaming the streets with him, probably. Maybe living together in the Underdark. He would’ve stayed himself. You would’ve been… happier.

When you receive Withers’ invitation to the reunion, it’s the first time in months you’re actually happy, excited even, to see your friends at long last, but also anxious. Your mind drifts to the vampire you used to love. Would he show up? Would he have changed at all? How has he been?

Did he still think about you, too?

Looking forward to the night, you treat yourself out to a nice outfit from the local seamstress. You settle on a simple, yet elegant, black long dress with an open back. The summer night is nice and fresh ; you’re glad you went for a long sleeved dress. Your hair, which you decided to let down, also partially covers your exposed back, covering you from the breeze. You reach your old campsite to find out you’re the last to arrive, as you see all your friends already mingling. You decide to talk to Shadowheart first, as she was the one you missed the most, as you had grown particularly closer to her during your adventure. In another life, you would’ve been together, you think. You felt bad about not contacting her sooner, but her joy upon seeing you washes away all guilt. She greets you with a smile and a large embrace.

“Come here you! Gods, I missed you!”

You hold her tight, enjoying her strong hug.

“Tell me everything! How have you been?”

“Oh you know, a few killings here and there, little shenanigans all around, I’m sure whatever you have to share is much more interesting.” You wish you could say something different, but your adventures really had been that bland.

She rolls her eyes playfully at your deflection, “And how have you been feeling?”

“Greaaat, every day is a new adventure for me to discover.” You give a poor excuse for a laugh as an attempt to convince her.

She tilts her head forward and raises her eyebrow at you. She knew you better than you gave her credit for. “You know what I meant.” Her gaze points to the side behind you and you give a quick glance to see Astarion disdainfully looking at his surroundings, a silver cup in hand.

You sigh as you turn back to her, the facade falling at once. “I try not to think about it. I… hate what he became, but I feel guilty about it. I did take part in it, I could’ve stopped it, but I didn’t.” You cross your arms, recollecting your thoughts. “I still miss him nonetheless and it’s… frustrating. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Seeing him again so soon is more difficult than I originally thought.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“I was actually trying to avoid him,” you confess.

“And you think that's healthy?”

“It's the only way I'll be able to move on.”

“And how’s that been going?”

“I–” You’re unable to answer her, the truth being that it was going horribly.

She grabs you by your shoulders, bringing your attention back to her, “Hey, you know if you need anything, I’ll be there for you.” You smile, sheepishly, as she brushes your hair behind your ear, softly cupping your cheek. “And if you’re looking for some company to take your mind off of a certain vampire, well, I would be glad to offer mine.”

You get lost in her eyes, with her hand soft and warm against your skin. Her invitation is tempting, and your gaze falls on her lips as you speak up.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Come meet me when the party's over.” She smiles back, before walking away.

You spend the rest of the night catching up with all your friends, always keeping an eye on Astarion, but never daring to approach him.

As the night settles down, you bid your close friends farewell and sneak out two bottles of wine to share with Shadowheart as she walks you to the inn she’d been staying at. The road is peaceful, and you reminisce about the past with the cleric, indulging in the leftover drinks you stole from the party. When you finally reach the inn, you're both a giggling and stumbling mess, empty bottles of wine still in hand as you enter her room.

As she closes the door behind her, you hear some patrons through the walls yell at you to shut up – it was late and your entrance had been pretty noisy – and you mockingly hush your friend, pressing a finger on her lips.

“Shadoooow, shhhhh” you whisper, your speech slurred. “You’re bothering people.”

“Oh, I’m bothering people? Care to remind me who stumbled their way up the stairs?” She says, laughing, her cheeks blushed by the alcohol.

“Hey– it’s not my fault their steps are so high and your room is so far,” you pout.

“Oh, my apologies,” she takes on a chivalrous tone. “Does my lady require assistance to reach her bed for the night?”

You answer, matching her tone. “That would be most welcome, dearest.”

You squeal as she picks you up in her arms with an impressive strength, and carries you to the large bed. You giggle when she drops you off, and she leans over you.

“Is my lady satisfied with my service?”

You fail to keep a straight face when you answer. “Most definitely. Thank you, my liege.”

She smiles back softly before crashing next to you, both of you staring at the ceiling, taking in the first moment of silence of your night. A second later and your mind is already thinking about Astarion and you sigh heavily. Your companion instantly notices your change of mood.

“It’s him again, isn't it?”

You groan, grabbing your hair in frustration. “Was I wrong? To let him go through with that damn ritual? Why does he get to live his best life and I’m still feeling awful abo–”

She cups your cheek and pulls your face close to hers, cutting you off with a kiss.

“How about we get to work on ‘forgetting about him’, hm?”

You nod slightly as you stare into her eyes, and she grins, her hand curling around your neck before crashing her lips against yours once again. You moan into the kiss, feeling the heat spread across your face and to your chest. Her kisses travel from your jaw down to your neck. She pulls your dress down, gradually exposing your flushed chest, before pulling back to take a good look at you, her own face matching your colour.

“You blush so beautifully.” Her voice is soft like velvet, each word making your heart pounce, as she continues to kiss her way down your navel, eventually discarding your dress on the floor.

You hide your face between your hands, trying to conceal the warmth coming from your cheeks and she comes back up to take your hands in hers, revealing your flustered state.

“You’re too pretty to hide yourself like that,” she reassures you with another kiss. “Let me admire you.”

You struggle to keep eye contact as one of her hands makes its way between your legs, teasing your entrance. Her fingers slide easily between your folds, earning her a moan out of you. She finds your clit and rubs you softly, your entire body twitching in reaction to her touch, and you shut your eyes to focus on the feeling, throwing your head back. Shadowheart takes this chance to trace the curve of your breast with her tongue, closing her mouth on its peak and sucking over it. Her tongue works wonders on you, and you whimper as she lightly bites you.

“Keep singing for me,” She says between kisses, her voice thick with lust. “I love the sound of your voice.”

Her name on your lips is like a prayer as she ravishes your breast, leaving a few love bites over your chest. She pulls back temporarily to remove her own clothing before climbing back in bed, resting between your legs. You barely manage to raise yourself up when she pushes you back down against the bed.

“Lay down love, and let me take care of you. Just the way you deserve it.”

She throws your legs over her shoulders and kisses the inside of your thighs, leaving more love bites and she makes her way to your cunt. Her tongue finally finds its way between your folds and she laps at your juices, making sure to lick you clean.

“Gods, you taste divine.”

Her hands dig in your thighs as she devours you and you arch your back at the sensation, taking in the feeling of her tongue entering you. Your hips soon follow the movement, wanting more contact, and she takes the hint, moving to your clit to give it the attention it deserves. You whine when she enters you with a finger, and a second one, slowly thrusting into you, as her tongue circles your sensitive bud. Your chest rises higher and faster as your breathing quickens, and she knows you're close. Your eyes are long gone, but she looks up to you, admiring your state before she speaks up.

“Let it go, love. Come for me.”

She sucks once more on your clit, her fingers pushing harder against that sweet spot inside of you. You throw your head back, grabbing the bed sheets at your sides as you scream her name with the remaining air in your lungs and a crashing wave of sensations washes over you. For a moment, your mind goes blank, there's nothing but pure bliss. You want to stay like this forever; finally at peace, content. As you come down from your high, your legs give out and you pant excessively, trying to catch your breath.

You feel the bed shift beside you and open your eyes to see Shadowheart lazily making her way next to you.

“But– what about you?” you ask, breathless and tired.

“You don’t think I enjoyed myself just now?” She laughs and kisses you. “You’re simply adorable.” She cups your cheek, brushing your hair away.

“Tonight was all about you. Plus, I doubt you'd be able to accomplish anything in the state you're in. You can always make it up to me another night,” she grins and boops your nose, smiling tenderly, before snuggling against you.

You watch her as she drifts to sleep next to you, moments before you cave into your own exhaustion. For the first time in months, you get a good, restful night of sleep.

When morning comes, you’re awakened by a god-awful headache, the consequences of last night’s drinking catching up to you. On the bright side, you find Shadowheart wrapped around you from behind, with her face nuzzled in your neck. You smile and hold on to her arm around your waist, linking your fingers with hers. She awakens soon after and greets you with kisses on your shoulder. You turn around to properly kiss her good morning, but the pain throbbing in your head has you groaning and holding your head instead. She catches on quickly and casts lesser restoration on you, fixing your headache instantly.

“Thank you, doc.” You sigh, content, and turn your head to face her. “How will I ever repay you?”

“I'm sure you'll think of something.”

“Mmh, I might have an idea.”

“Oh?” She chuckles. “Colour me intrigued.”

You flip yourself above her, pinning her down before kissing her lovingly. When you pull away, you find her looking at you with the same lust she had for you the night prior. Her eyes fall on your lips before she speaks again.

“You should follow me on my next adventure. I think it would help you clear things up.”

You pull back, now sitting on her, as you take a moment to answer. “I have a few errands to run, but I might take you up on that offer.”

“I still have the room for a tenday,” she raises herself up on her elbows and gives you a pensive look before continuing her thought. “Let me know when you make up your mind.”

You get dressed up and kiss her goodbye, eager to go back to your own inn to get changed and take a much deserved bath. Since the room you had rented was yours for a few days, you might as well take the chance to shop around while you were there; you were in dire need of new equipment for your next adventures. You spend those days getting upgrades for your gear, and visiting the city. Day after day, something felt odd; you had the weird feeling that you were being watched. Every time, nothing would happen, and neither did you see anyone suspicious, but the feeling never left. One night, as you were making your way to your inn, that feeling only got stronger. The streets weren’t busy per say, but everyone you could see was minding their business, discussing amongst themselves. You pressed ahead to reach the inn faster ; maybe it was all in your head, but just in case your intuition was right, you didn’t want to take any chances.

As you turn the corner to take a shortcut in a back alley, two figures block your path. In the dark of the night, you can’t make out their identities, but their threatening auras are enough to make you back away. You bump into two more imposing shadows, somehow having managed to sneak up behind you, who quickly grab your arms before you can think of escaping. You try to fight against them but their combined forces pin you down almost completely. You were strong, you shouldn’t have had any issue fighting them off, but their strength almost felt… surnatural. If you had learned one thing during your misadventures, it was that when brute strength wasn't an option, you had to aim for their egos.

“Come on, four against one? How's that fair? Are you so weak that you can't face me alone? Let me get the chance to fuck you up, one after the other.” You smile cheekily, your blood running hot, ready for a fight. Karlach would be proud.

The bandits remain unphased by your taunting, with only one of them answering to your banter.

“We won't fight you. Our Master requested that you be brought alive.”

“Aw, poor lil pup can’t do anything without its master's permission,” you say, mocking them, and you laugh disdainfully at them. “You’re fucking pathetic.”

The figure moves towards you and you’re slapped with a strength that would’ve made you fall to your knees, had you not been held by the two other goons.

“ENOUGH!” Another figure speaks up. “Remember the Master mentioned that she be left unharmed.”

You lift your head back up, your breathing ragged by your furor. “How about you bring me to that master of yours so I can show him who he’s messing with?”

You wish you could take back your words as another figure appears, stepping out from the shadows, this one all too familiar.

“Hello, my sweet.”

Don't want this feeling, I can't afford love

I try to find a reason to pull us apart

It ain't working 'cause you're perfect

And I know that you're worth it

I can't walk away

101 notes · View notes

lillikitty · 2 days

Note

Can I request a scenario with Chuuya in which the Reader acts very irritated and childish when she's sleep-deprived (who is a member of the Port Mafia)? Like they both have feelings for each other, but they haven't confessed yet 😔 (skill issue)

This is a fun idea! I hope I do your request justice! I did this right as I woke up so apologies if it’s not the best.

Chuuya x Sleep Deprived! Reader

The port mafia is not a place for the weak. Most can go several nights without sleeping and still be at their best. However, that doesn’t mean that lack of sleep can’t get to the best of them. Everyone needs sleep after all.

But you don’t believe that. You’ll sleep when you pass out and so far, you haven’t passed out. You got sent on a late night mission 3 nights in a row. You haven’t slept for 3 days and it’s starting to sink in on your brain. Thinking you might be able to finally get a night off, an emergency happened at one of the mafia’s weapon facilities that had you staying up for another night.

You and Chuuya got sent to the facility to wait and see if the culprit who’s sabotaging the transfer of these weapons comes back. You were dragging your feet as your eyelids felt heavy but you knew you had to stay awake. “Chuuyaaaaa, do we have to?” You whine, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between you two.

“Yeah, we do. The boss said so. So stop whining.” He scoffed a bit as he looked at you. You grumbled at him, “Well sorry if I don’t wanna do some stupid mission.” Chuuya is a bit taken aback as you aren’t one to usually call any mission stupid. He looks at you and takes in your demeanor. “Are you tired?” He asks. “Psh, no. I’m not tired, you’re tired.” You say as you stick your tongue out at him. A small smile forms on Chuuya’s face before he chuckles. “I think you are tired. You should’ve said-“ Chuuya was cut off by you tripping him. He caught himself before his face hit the ground and he looked up at you. “See? You’re the tired one.” You hum as you keep walking.

Chuuya picked himself up and followed after you. “Y/n, when was the last time you slept?” He asks with a bit of worry in his voice. “I dunno, 3 or 4 days ago or somethin’.” You’re words have been coming out a bit slurred and Chuuya is probably the only one who’d notice. He frowns a bit at that as this mission is supposed to last all night. It’s a stake out to make sure whoever was at the facility doesn’t come back.

Once you and Chuuya get to your position to watch the facility for the night he looks over at you and watches as you sway a bit, your eyelids fighting the urge to close. He sighs as he takes off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders before pulling you into his side. “Hey! What’re you-“ You start to protest but Chuuya shushes you. “Just shut up and get some sleep. I’ll wake you if something happens.” He says as he looks away to hide the blush that’s rising to his cheeks. “Nuh uh! I told you I’m not tired!” You protest vocally but your body curls up next to Chuuya’s as your head rests on his shoulder. “I don’t need to sleep.. I’m fine..” A yawn is followed shortly after your protest and your heavy eyelids finally win their battle and close, you were out in seconds.

Chuuya sighs as he looks down at you. He’s never seen you act like this before but he found it rather cute. He brushes some of your hair out of your face as he just holds you close to him. He has no intentions of actually waking you up. He’s just gonna let you sleep as long as you need to.

Nothing happened that night at the facility. Once it was dawn, Chuuya called up Mori to let him know that nothing happened but you and him were taking the rest of the day off. Mori understood and let you both have the day for yourselves. Chuuya ended up carrying you back to his place as you were still out cold. While sleeping, he found you quite peaceful. It was very different from how daring and crazy you were on the battlefield. He unlocked the door to his place and carried you to his room. He laid you down on his bed and was about to take his jacket from you when you grabbed the jacket in your sleep and held it. The blush he had before came flooding back and he just let you be and went to the living room to just relax for the day.

Around 2 PM your eyelids finally fluttered open. You yawned and sat up as you stretched your body out. When you finally took in your surroundings you realized you weren’t in your room, then remembered the stake out mission you panicked. “Oh shit- What happened?” You quickly got up and ran out of the room to only pause when you smelt some food. You peaked around the corner and saw Chuuya cooking. He glanced over his shoulder then smiled. “Good morning sleeping beauty.” He says with a smirk.

“What happened last night? The mission, was everything okay?” You choose to ignore his comment even if it did make you blush a little. “It was fine. Nothing happened. This morning I told Mori to let us have the day off so you could sleep, for 14 hours.” Chuuya chuckled. You went wide eyed. “14 hours? Why didn’t you wake me?” “Because you needed sleep. Now sit down and eat.” Chuuya set a plate of food on the table and pulled out the seat for you to sit down. You sighed and took a seat and looked at the food. You didn’t even realize you were hungry until you started eating, and damn was it some good food.

Once you had your fill you looked at Chuuya who had been eating as well. “Thank you..” You mumbled. “For letting me sleep.” You finished a bit louder that before. Chuuya looked at you and smiled, “Hang out with me more when you’re sleep deprived. You’re funny.” He chuckles. Your face reddens as you can’t quite remember what you said or did and you worry you did something embarrassing. “Oh shut up! I think you just want to be my knight in shining armor again.” You tease, hoping to get him back. Chuuya then grabs your hand and gives it a gentle kiss, “I always will be, and next time I’ll wake sleeping beauty with a kiss.” He teases back. You’re face gets and even darker shade of red as you weren’t prepared for that. However a small smile forms on your lips as you wouldn’t mind being woken up by a kiss from him.

#chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuyabsd #bsd x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs

98 notes · View notes

thisapplepielife · 2 days

Text

Written for a @astrangersummer.

One Nap at a Time

Eddie's already sprawled out on the couch in their venue dressing room, when Gareth flops down next to him, bumping his fist against Eddie's knee.

"Steve's been screaming that it's four hours until soundcheck," Gareth says, leaning his head back against the cushions. They're a little lumpy, but he's so fucking tired, it doesn't matter.

This tour has been a goddamn bear, and they aren't even halfway through it.

They're never gonna make it. Not at this rate. They're gonna implode, one by one, and he thinks he might go first.

"I heard him," Eddie says, leaning back next to Gareth, "believe it or not, his voice carries."

It's snarky, but there's no heat there, just endless affection. It's gross, and Gareth swears he will never, ever act this way when he has a girlfriend. He'll make damn sure of it.

"Anyway. This is your four-hour warning," Gareth says, closing his eyes. Maybe he can catch a short nap. Twenty minutes would make a world of fucking difference, he's pretty damn sure. Then laughs, "You're the one that hired him to yell at us."

"Mistakes were made," Eddie says.

"No they weren't," Gareth answers, closing his eyes.

"No, they weren't," Eddie confirms, and even with his eyes closed, Gareth can hear the smile on Eddie's face, as his eyes feel heavier and heavier.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

Gareth hears Steve's voice, and jerks awake. Sitting bolt upright, disoriented.

Steve's standing at the edge of the couch, hands on his hips.

"What?" Gareth asks, still foggy, "Huh?"

And Steve laughs, pointing, and only then does Gareth realize that Eddie's still asleep on the couch and that he must have been laying against him, or on top of him, one or the other.

And Gareth smirks.

"Jealous?" Gareth asks.

Steve rolls his eyes, saying dryly, "Yes. Terribly."

"In that case then," Gareth laughs, and lays back down, squeezing between Eddie and the back of the couch. Eddie must feel the movement, because Eddie slings his arm over Gareth's side, pulling him closer.

"Soooo comfy," Gareth hisses, taunting Steve, but not wanting to wake Eddie up if he can help it.

"Yeah, yeah," Steve says, "this is your hour warning. Got it?"

Gareth whines, but Steve taps him on the toe of his shoe.

"An hour? Seriously? You sure?" Gareth asks, because that can't be right.

Steve sighs, exasperated, "You don't think I can tell time now? Yes. Seriously. An hour."

They've been asleep for three fucking hours? Holy shit. He couldn't even begin to guess the last time he's gotten three hours of sleep straight. Weeks, for sure. Maybe longer.

Steve's still busy working himself into a lather, "Gareth, if I have to come back, so help me-"

"I got it," Gareth interrupts.

"Good."

An hour isn't nearly enough time. Not at all. But it's better than nothing, Gareth supposes. So, he sets the alarm on Eddie's watch, Eddie sleeping through the whole process, just to make sure they don't oversleep and piss off Steve.

And an hour later, Eddie's slept through his wrist beeping, but Gareth hasn't, so he shakes Eddie awake, "Steve's beckoned us."

Eddie stretches, sitting up on the ugly couch that's more comfortable than it looks, rolling his shoulders. Eddie yawns, and that's about right. Nap or not, they've been spread too thin.

Then, Eddie says, "Damn. That was the best nap I've had in a while. I might actually be half-rested before a show. What are the fucking odds of that?"

And Gareth laughs, because he agrees, wholeheartedly.

The tour continues, and so do the naps. In green rooms, dressing rooms, hotel rooms. On the bus. Wherever they are, Gareth will find Eddie and squeeze in with him, and go to sleep. Or Eddie'll find him. It's almost like their early days on the road, when they had to share a motel bed. It's comfortable, and normal, being this close, so much so, that it's put them both right to sleep when they've needed it most.

And Gareth thinks nothing of it. Steve comes to get them, or Goodie, or Jeff, and when it's time to roll, they'll get moving.

One more show scratched off the schedule, one more nap taken somewhere along the never ending road.

And then the tour ends. Months on the road over, as they chipped away at the schedule, one show at a time. Now, headed home in time for Christmas.

Gareth isn't sure what the fuck he'll do with himself. It's been a long fucking time since his time has been all his own. Is he just supposed to go home to his mom, and do what? Nothing? Maybe he can just crash with Eddie and Steve?

Though, he's sure they're ready for some fucking privacy for a change.

Maybe Goodie and Jeff will entertain him. Let him into their secret best friend circle, for once.

He doesn't know, but he'll have time to figure it out. Right now, they're tidying the bus up as they head home, trying to get it ready to send it back to the company they leased it from, when Steve turns up. Book in his hands. It's not his tour bible, though, and the schedule is over anyway. No need to keep meticulous notes anymore, so Gareth's a little confused.

"What's up?" he asks, stuffing clothes into duffels and suitcases. His shit grew over the months, accumulating over time, and now he doesn't have room to pack it all up again. He'll have to resort to a trash bag he's pretty damn sure.

"Got something for you. For you and Eddie," Steve says, and Gareth knows he's up to no good. Steve's face is schooled neutral, but he can read him like a goddamn book after all this time in each other's back pockets. And he's up to something. For sure.

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

Steve hands over the book, and Gareth flips it open.

And he laughs, yelling, "Eddie!"

Eddie pops through the curtain, "What's up?"

And Gareth shows him, and relishes the sound of Eddie cackling, head tossed back, fucking amused. Charmed. In love with Steve, and everything he does. Including this.

A book of Polaroids. Dozens. Maybe, hundreds.

Every single one a picture of Gareth and Eddie asleep together, in various positions, on various couches, all across the country. Sometimes one of the other guys is posing in front of them, making faces, but mostly, it's just them.

The story of this tour, one nap at a time.

Gareth shoves the book into Eddie's hands, and catches Steve by the neck, squeezing him tight.

And Steve laughs, hugging back.

"Thanks, Steve. That's a fun souvenir from this hellacious tour."

Steve just shrugs, "I didn't realize how many we'd get when we started this little project."

And Gareth hooks his chin over Eddie's shoulder, looking down as Eddie keeps flipping through the pages. Gareth was here first, he has best friend privileges, and first dibs, but he knows Steve loaned Eddie back to him these past few months. There's no question about that. One nap at a time, giving them time together, even if it was just to sleep in what appears to be uncomfortable positions, one random couch at a time.

"Maybe someday they'll be worth money. Some good blackmail," Steve says.

"No way, we're proud of these," Eddie says, "it proves we can sleep anywhere."

And it kind of does. It also probably proves they're immune to head lice. Some of those couches were pretty gross, looking back at the photographic evidence.

Eddie points at one where Gareth's feet are in his face, "Look? I didn't die from the smell alone."

Gareth bites his shoulder, and Eddie laughs even harder.

There are no secrets between them, no privacy. He's taken showers with Eddie, shared beds and bathrooms. Underwear and toothbrushes. Looked at, and has shown, all manner of questionable bumps and rashes. Held hair and hands, cleaned up puke, and one time they never, ever speak of - actual shit.

A few naps are nothing on the friendship intimacy scale.

Eddie looks at the bunk, the one that Gareth's sort of cleaned out, and asks, "One more for the road?"

Gareth laughs, but agrees, crawling into the cramped space, nearly on top of Eddie.

"It was a good tour, kid," Eddie says, hand splayed against Gareth's back, keeping him from falling out of the bunk and onto the floor of the bus.

"Yeah," Gareth agrees, "and the next one will be even better."

At home, back in Hawkins, Gareth wanders around. A little lost. He's tired, but wired, all at the same time. It's weird to go, go, go and then just stop. Cold turkey. That's never worked for him for anything else, so he's not sure why it would work for stopping touring, either.

They should have tapered down, weaned themselves off.

He rides his old bike, because his El Camino battery is deader than shit, after sitting so long. He hopes Goodie and Jeff will come over later and give him a jump, to get it up and running. If not, Steve will.

He doesn't realize where he's headed, until he's already there. Harrington House. He drops his bike in the yard like he's a kid again, and heads for the front door. Letting himself in. Steve is at the bar, doing paperwork.

Always doing paperwork.

"Hey," Steve says, looking at him for a moment, and then back down at the papers spread out beneath him.

"Isn't the tour over, what work do you have left now? You're supposed to be on vacation, relaxing in your new digs," Gareth says, leaning against the counter.

"Just, running the final numbers."

"We end up in the black?" Gareth asks, leaning over to look. But he doesn't understand Steve's chicken-scratch shorthand, and gives up.

"Looks like it," Steve says, and Gareth grins. They got to play music, night after night, week after week, month after month, and even made some money doing it. Hot damn.

"Where's Eddie at, anyway?" Gareth asks.

"Trying to take a nap," Eddie mutters from the couch in the living room. Gareth hadn't even realized he was there.

"Sorry," Gareth calls back, he can take a hint and go. He squeezes Steve on the shoulder, getting ready to leave, when Eddie speaks again.

"Don't be sorry, kid," Eddie says, then asks, "you in?"

Hell yes, he's in.

"Steve, get the camera, I'm goin' in," Gareth says.

"I'll get right on that," Steve says dryly, but Gareth can see that he's smiling.

Gareth toes off his shoes by the door, and then hurries into the living room, following Eddie's voice, telling him to hurry the fuck up.

When he gets there, Eddie makes room, scooting over so Gareth can settle in alongside him. And Gareth stretches out, resting his arm over Eddie's waist.

This couch is much more comfortable than any of the others have been. Steve has good taste, expensive taste, and picked something damn comfortable for a nice, long nap.

"Steve's couch is nice," Gareth says, face muffled in Eddie's shoulder.

"Everything about Steve is nice, haven't you learned that by now, kid?" Eddie mumbles, and Gareth smiles. He might have taken a while to warm up to Steve Harrington, but now, even Gareth has to admit that he's perfect for Eddie. He makes Eddie happy, and that's all Gareth could ask for, honestly. That Eddie's happy. And loved.

It doesn't hurt that Steve's shaped up their tour schedule, either. It was long, and exhausting, but they made it through. Left to their own devices, he's not sure that would have been true.

"What'd you do today?" Eddie asks, stifling a yawn.

And Gareth closes his eyes, telling Eddie about his day, until he feels when Eddie goes slack beside him, back to sleep again. Gareth trails off, stops talking, and lets himself fall asleep, too.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun! 🌞

#a stranger summer #week two #prompt: afternoon naps #stranger things #gareth stranger things #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: a stranger summer #corroded coffin fic #gareth and eddie are bffs

124 notes · View notes

pippytmi · 2 days

Text

kacy au + a prompt from this list: "this is the first time I’m living on my own and my parents decided to spontaneously drop by in a few hours to see how I’m doing pls let me borrow some cleaning supplies and food so that my parents will believe I’m a functioning, responsible adult who totally cleans and doesn’t just have condiments and eggs in my fridge AU”

////////

“Hey! Hi, you’re—you're 8C, right?”

Kate nearly drops her bag at the sudden voice and its proximity, entirely unused to any kind of attention whatsoever. Embarrassingly, her first response is to reach for a gun that isn’t there, succeeding only in pulling out her keys as a makeshift weapon.

“Whoa,” the stranger before Kate says, raising both hands up. She looks vaguely familiar, dark eyes and curly hair and a short enough stature that Kate presumes she won’t be a real threat. “Is that a…key? No offense, but I don't think that would stab very well.” She squints up at Kate suddenly, almost like she’s trying to figure her out. “Please don't test that theory.”

Kate can only hurriedly lower said keys, feels her cheeks burn under the scrutiny. “Sorry,” she says. “I guess I’m a little jumpy.”

“It’s all good, I totally get it,” the stranger says cheerfully. “There’s not really a welcoming committee around these parts.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Kate asks slowly, cautiously on guard once more. She had first moved into this apartment two months ago, so it’s a little late for a welcome-to-the-neighborhood kind of thing.

“It could be,” the woman says, and she holds out her hand. “I’m Lucy. You might know me better as 12B, I’m the one always throwing empty bottles at the landlord’s head.”

Kate just stares back, accepting the handshake a beat later than socially acceptable. “I…didn’t know anyone did that, actually.”

“Oh it’s fine,” Lucy’s quick to reassure her. “He hasn’t found out it’s me.”

“Okay.” Kate is still very, very confused as to what Lucy of 12B (who throws water bottles at people) could possibly want. Or why she has decided to introduce herself in such a strange manner.

“Sorry to bug you," Lucy says, “but you’re kind of my last hope. I’ve been trying to find one friendly neighbor in this shithole, and so far, everyone has been shutting their doors in my face. You’re kind of on another level since you tried to shank me, but I am completely willing to forget that if you can let me borrow some stuff.”

“I didn’t try to…” Kate trails off as Lucy gazes up at her with such a hopeful expression that her resolve immediately weakens. “What kind of stuff?”

“Nothing major,” Lucy says. “Long story short, my parents decided to drop in on me, and I basically have nothing in my place. Any chance you can lend me some cleaning supplies? And maybe some groceries? I will one hundred percent pay you back. I just need them to think I’m an actual functioning human being.”

“I guess I can see what I have,” Kate says reluctantly, gripping her groceries a little tighter to her chest. “Come in, I’ll get you everything you need.”

This is probably a bad idea. Scratch that—it is definitely a bad idea, and Curtis will actually kill her for this, but Kate invites this literal stranger into her (government-assigned) home and leaves Lucy alone in order to briefly dash into her room and lock up the gun kept in the bottom of her purse.

Lucy, at the very least, stays firmly in the living room where Kate left her, though her eyes obviously wander around the room. “I like the color,” she says, gesturing to Kate’s couch. “Funky.”

Kate grimaces. “It was the only one they had,” she says of that neon-green monstrosity.

“Well, I think it’s really cool,” Lucy says. With Kate back, she seems emboldened, takes a turn about the room with a curious half-smile. “Your place seems smaller than mine. How much are you paying? Because if it’s the same as mine, I can totally get the landlord with a bottle for you.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Kate says. “Um, I think I should have everything you need in the kitchen.” She ushers Lucy right over, gestures to the fridge and says, “You can pick whatever you want for food. I’ll get the cleaning supplies from under the sink.” Still on edge, she crouches down to retrieve everything while watching Lucy out of the corner of her eye.

If Lucy can feel Kate staring, she doesn’t show it; she happily accepts the invitation to rummage through the fridge, clanking of bottles and rustling of bags audible. Finally, Kate focuses on the task at hand, and packs the basics into a plastic bag: bleach, window cleaner, Lysol.

“Okay, this might be more unbelievable than having nothing in my house,” Lucy suddenly declares. “Do you have anything good to eat?”

Kate lifts her head. “What?”

“This is all health food and green juice, 8C,” Lucy says. Pauses. “Oh fuck. I never asked for your name.”

Honestly, Kate forgot she hadn’t, either. “It’s—”

“I really hope you’re not a serial killer,” Lucy continues, as if Kate isn’t even in the room and she is just musing aloud. “That probably should’ve been my first question. Can we start over? Here. 8C, are you a serial killer?”

Kate blinks. “No,” she says. “But I also don’t think serial killers would tell you if they were.”

“Fair enough,” Lucy says, and peculiarly enough, she doesn’t seem threatened at all by the possibility. Obviously she is not afraid to be in unfamiliar situations with unfamiliar people, and Kate wonders if she should rethink her assumption that Lucy is not a threat. “So what’s your name, then?”

“...Kate.”

“Kate,” Lucy repeats. “Hm. It’s not what I was expecting, but it fits.” With that information, she just turns around and…continues going through Kate’s fridge. “Are you single?”

Kate coughs. “W-what?”

“Single people always have those sad frozen meals, at least,” Lucy says. “I do too, normally, but I haven’t hit the grocery store in a while.” She opens the freezer and actually whoops at the sight of Marie Callender's finest. “Jackpot! I will take these off your hands.”

“And your parents will…be fine with that?” Kate decides that, overall, she is utterly confused by Lucy the neighbor from 12B. There's no other possible way to put it.

“Oh not at all, but it is what they expect,” Lucy says. “I’ll take some of your health foods too, I guess. Let them think I’m trying to stop bad habits.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear with a self-conscious laugh. “I mean, only if that’s fine with you.”

And something about that moment where Lucy becomes a little awkward—when she bashfully looks down at her feet, then looks back up at Kate from underneath her long eyelashes—it endears Kate completely. At the very least, it makes her relax, stomach twisting in itself in a tell-tale weakness for pretty girls in trouble. “Sure,” she says. “Do your parents like wine? You can take a bottle, I have a few.”

“I would never turn down wine,” Lucy says, brightening. “I don’t even care that I don’t have wine glasses. We can drink out of paper cups for all I care.”

Kate opens the liquor cabinet to make her selection: a nice red that had been a gift from her mother. (She’ll just have to email her later and say she loved it when her mother asks.) “I would offer to lend you some, but I also don’t have wine glasses,” she finds herself saying, then immediately regrets it, because Lucy obviously expects an explanation and all Kate seems to be able to do is make a fool out of herself today.

“Are you also a connoisseur of paper cups? Kate from 8C, I think we’re going to be friends,” Lucy says easily, and Kate’s lips twitch from the effort of biting back a smile.

“I actually like to drink wine out of mason jars,” Kate says. “I know it’s a little weird…”

Lucy has absolutely no qualms about smiling, and her smile lights up her whole face in a way Kate can’t look away from. “I think that’s cute,” she says, and Kate’s face burns so hot she knows that her status as this building’s number one gay disaster is 100% secured.

“Here,” Kate barely remembers to blurt out, handing off the wine bottle. “And let me get you a bag for the food too.”

After everything has been successfully squared away, Lucy is left with three large bags that will definitely require more than one trip. “Thank you,” she says. “Seriously. You’ve saved my life and I promise I will replace everything I’ve stolen today.”

“It’s no problem,” Kate says. “Do you need help taking it to your place?”

Lucy feigns a double-take, mouth falling open in an exaggerated gasp. “Already trying to invite yourself over? Wow, 8C. At least buy a girl dinner first.”

Kate’s mouth inevitably twists into that damned smile anyway. “Is that not what the frozen meals are? Technically, I did buy them.”

“Touché,” Lucy says, biting her lip. “You are…surprising.” She snags the smaller of the bags which contains the cleaning supplies, then swings it over her shoulder. “Alright, you can walk me home. But no funny business.”

“Okay,” Kate says with a laugh, taking the last two bags herself.

“But,” Lucy says as they walk outside, “you officially have a rain check.”

“For dinner?” Despite the circumstances of Kate’s arrival here—despite the looming undercover op that is about to consume her life—she feels light. Hopeful, even.

Lucy throws a wink over her shoulder. “For the funny business,” she says, all but skipping in the direction of her apartment.

Kate, meanwhile, freezes in place. Nevermind about Lucy being a threat to her life—she’s just going to be a threat to Kate's sanity.

(Which…may or may not be a bad thing. It’s to be determined, at any rate).

#had to get this out of my system!!#kacy #kate x lucy #ncis hawaii #i need a fic tag #i envision this as the 'first meeting' for the fast & furious prompt i did way back (the angsty one w/the undercover op)#dammit do i need to turn that au into a full on fic ....

74 notes · View notes

offside-the-lines · 1 day

Text

MattDrai Fic Recs

So @irrelevanttous and @puckthisshift sent me the ask meme prompt for "what my favorite Mattdrai fic is" and I went on a JOURNEY lemme tell ya. I ended up figuring out how to download my AO3 history (in which I discovered that in the last year, I've read like literally 50% of all the MattDrai fics ever written) to help me figure out what my faves were. So here are some (most? I hope?), split into categories.

General Faves:

head above water by yourblues (@msmargaretmurry) 🔒 (E, 91.1k) This might be one of the best pieces of RPF ever written; it's a classic. I have visited this fic literally 21 times. It has everything: stupidity, pining, incredible sex, falling for each other, also more stupidity. Chapter 6 literally rips my entire soul out every time. I think this fic permanently altered my brain chemistry. It's a perennial re-read.

only fools rush in by @bropunzeling 🔒 (E, 94.9k) This is another fic that is a Must Read for HRPF as a whole. The entire time, I just want to reach through the screen and wring both of their necks for being so incredibly dense. And I love everything about this, especially just the way it's written is so incredible.

Growing Into Someone by @blaahaj 🔒 (E, 46.5k) God, I love this fic so much, I come back to it all the time. I think this must've been one of the first Mattdrai works I read. But I just love how natural the initial tension is, and how inevitable their falling in love is, and how the climax happens and resolves is just so incredible.

Undo Falling for You by crookedsilence (@csblogs) 🔒 (T, 16.1k) This is an AU I guess? I put it in this section because it's Hanahaki, so like only kinda AU. Either way, I am obsessed with this! It is just emotionally perfect. Highly recommend.

rough dream? by reticent 🔒 (M, 7.2k) So, this fic is probably the most "out there" suggestion because of the warning (I'll get to that part) but this fic is literally the most perfect microcosm of what Mattdrai fics tend to have: pining, lack of communication, falling in love while being terrified of falling in love, etc. This is a time loop fic where Matthew is stuck in the time loop but it's told from the perspective of Leon. It is absolutely incredible. I think about this fic ALL THE TIME. The warning is for a suicide, but no "actual" character death because the time loop resets.

i'll tell you when to stop by dogjuice 🔒 (E, 39.6k) (McMattDrai) This is the real answer to 'what fic do you send people if they want to get into MattDrai'. I have sent this to so many people because it is perfect. Everything about this is perfect. Matthew's internal dialogue and his anxiety, and his perception of what's happening. The second half of the fic is so well-written and suspenseful. Something I feel it will give me a heart attack even though I've read it like 10 times.

Future Fics

Saving the Best for Last by @puckingtrash 🔒 (E, 100.1k) This is the fic that made me obsessed with Future Fics of current rivals. There's just a level of camaraderie and understanding that happens after that many years in the same league; it doesn't matter how much beef you had. And this fic is just so incredible. I love thinking about what these guys do after retirement. A must read IMO.

home by now by daisysusan (@hopetorun) 🔒 (E, 102.3k) Probably one of the best fics. I love the way this builds up and keeps you on edge. It really mirrors how Matty feels, just this general unease of knowing something is wrong but not knowing what. The laying of the pining with the hurt and confusion is just so well done.

back to where we lasted by @ohtemporas 🔒 (E, 34.4k) Trade fics are always so interesting with these two. Especially in the situation where they are exes. And one of them (Leon in this case) has fucked up greatly, and they need to figure out how to get past it because neither of them are over it. Or in this case, figure out how to do it again, but properly.

Old Flames Burn Brighter by @cisumox (E, 25k) I love this fic so much because of the way they are both clearly affected by what happened and how much they still want to love each other. I think about this one al the time. Warning: this does involve a career ending injury.

settle down in the Sunshine State by @puckthisshift 🔒 (E, 14.7k) This has my fave Mattdrai trope where one of them is a fucking idiot, and is so in their head about it. And they have absolutely no idea what literally every single other person knows. In this case, it's Matthew. I absolutely love this fic. I read it all the time.

gather your broken lessons and move by rumandwhine 🔒 (E, 30.5k) This one is super interesting because it doesn't involve a trade, or them in the same place. It is the same as it was before, but different. How are they doing to figure out what went wrong and how are they going to make sure they don't make the same mistakes? They are older now, but are they any less stupid. Keep reading to find out. (Also featuring an absolutely hilarious situation with Drai and his rookie).

AUs

linger by @bropunzeling 🔒 (E, 65.5k) (Omegaverse) This is another all timer. It is so incredible: the way they are just so inexplicably drawn to each other, and obsessed but so worried about their obsession. And the way Leon treats Matthew as something really special from the beginning (and how Matthew just doesn't seem to pick up on that). The way that things build towards the climax, with the ASG 2023 moment (which makes me want to rip my eyeballs out every time; it HURTS). It has all the best parts of omegaverse and explores their relationships with their dynamics so thoughtfully.

whatever promises I made by @puckthisshift 🔒 (E, 360k) (Omegaverse) Yet another all timer for the genre as a whole. The way that omegaverse is explored here is so interesting. It was the fic that really got me on board with the AU. It is so core to the way the characters interact with each other and the world, and the inherent traumas it brings really parallels some of the experiences of populations in the real world (e.g. women).

so is the longing by dogjuice 🔒 (E, 44.7k) (Omegaverse) When I tell you I have read this fic sooooo many times. It is so so good (and so hot). Matthew is so incredibly oblivious and Leon is pining so hard and down soooooo bad. I think Leon's love for Matthew can be seen from like Alpha centauri and yet Matthew totally misses it (among other things). This is SO good.

Egos and Eligibility by @puckthisshift 🔒 (E, 91.1k) (Regency & Omegaverse) I will continue to suck up to my good friend Iris LOL. But seriously, I read this before I even knew it was her and I love it so much. I adore Regency Matthew and the way Leon is literally ever MMC from the era (Mr Darcy) is so funny to me (why so pissy Leon). Regency is such a perfect setting for the Omegaverse tropes of courting and, also again, exploring the societal impact of having these dynamics in play. I think the part where Matthew goes into heat is SO funny and well written. Bridgerton wishes.

Royal Pain by lavender_hazyy 🔒 (E, 48.9k) + Sequel Rules of Engagement (E, 37.8k) (Medieval/Royalty/Bridgerton/Robin Hood) That sounds like the most bonkers combination of things, but it's truly so so so good. I recommend this one SO much. It's so much fun to read, and their interactions are so funny. Poor Connor is always experiencing the Horrors in the background. Everything about this is perfection. THE FUCKING LOVE LETTERS OMG.

bittersweet and strange by @puckthisshift 🔒 (E, 53.4k) (Fairytale Curses) Will I ever stop thinking about this? Probably not. :) I think so much of this is a metaphor for the "beast" that Matthew portrays himself to be (maybe believes himself to be) irl. Also, I will never get enough of Taryn as a character; she is just incredible. I will literally never forget the reveal at the end (and ever villain I ever write will be henceforth inspired by you). (Also, curly haired tiger Matthew, you will always be real to me. Leon + me *handshake emoji* wanting to tough Matthew's fur).

I honestly don't even think this is ALL of the Mattdrai fics I think about regularly/reread regularly. But these are at least a lot of them. There are also so many good recommendation lists on this website when you search for "mattdrai fic recs" that will include even more fics than the ones I've selected.

Legitimately, thank you to all Mattdrai writers out there for being the fucking GOATs. I don't know what I would be reading if not this.

#mattdrai #hockey rpf #fic recs #mcmattdrai #hrpf #fic rec

67 notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 2 days

Note

indulge me for a second here (at ur own time ofc)

megumi breaks up w reader for reasons (wants to focus on training or sum) but reader starts acting a lill crazy especially when she thinks he might be seeing other women. She's txting him, sending suggestive pics, flirting, cockblocking other women- just the usual, you know?

Then she stops.

Leaving megumi with a whole crisis. Didn't he want this? Why is he missing all her attention? Why is she giving *his* attention to other guys?

I just want that toji and gojo side of him to flare up and chase the reader all over again 😇😇😇😇

AAAHHH YES i need to add more toxicity to my fics bc lets be real we'd all behave like this to get him back :3

kinda feel like this could be a prequel to the blurb i wrote about ex bf!megumi cockblocking you n trying to win you back

suggestive content under the cut but no smut ___

you're a good girl, definitely better than this, but to be honest he left you no choice, didn't he?

how else were you supposed to get his attention? it's not like those other girls had anything to offer him, so you just had to... give him a reminder of what he had, and that he could have it again if he stopped being a man slut and crawled right back to you where he belonged.

(was he really being a man slut? you couldn't actually know... all you knew was what you heard from rumors. but that was enough to warrant all of this... wasn't it?)

you didn't care how much money you spent on pretty lacey sets, or how much time you spent draping yourself in the most inviting poses you could come up until your my eyes only album was overflowing with tasteful nudes. and every single one of them was sent to him.

there wasn't an ounce of humiliation in your body, sending nudes and other suggestive photos/videos to your ex-boyfriend. you were sure that eventually he would be swayed... if it wasn't by baby pink then maybe an angelic white... or classic red.... to you, this was just a means to an end. eventually he'd understand what he was missing and he'd come back begging to get back together.

when he doesn't realize his mistake after a month of spamming his phone... you lose interest. naturally, of course. if he could look at all those photos, watch all those videos to completion, and still not want you back? well, that was his loss.

truthfully, you got bored. and at some point you came to the realization that there were other hot, single, desperate guys out there who would love a glimpse of what was wasted on megumi. so you steered your attention in another direction and almost forgot about your ex completely.

well, you forgot about him until he started showing up around you all the time.

at first it was the bars, anywhere you spent your time with nightlife, he was bound to show up there. whether you were drinking or dancing, or just sitting in a booth wrapped up in the company of someone else, megumi was there to see it.

you might've moved on, but you weren't oblivious. you saw him. you just didn't seem to care. never giving him more than a passing glance before your attention was returned to whoever was lucky enough to get it tonight. megumi's not sure he ever saw you with the same guy twice

even when he moved on to stalking your other hangouts. like the coffee shop you frequented most days of the week. once he started seeing your distraction of the night coming in with you on their arm in the mornings, too, megumi started to lose his mind.

what was the point of all those messages you sent? all the photos with your body on display for him attached with 'thinking of you' or a little kiss emoji- those were all just for him, weren't they? and now you're parading around with every willing guy you find?

megumi's in denial. this wasn't like you, you didn't play games, you weren't a slut, so what was your goal here?

if it was to drive him crazy, you most definitely had the upper hand. but he was determined that it wouldn't last for long.

you wanted to play shitty games? fine, megumi could play shitty games. he'll make sure you come to regret getting over him so easily.

#megumi brainrot #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader

58 notes · View notes

skekilla · 2 days

Text

my brain is rotting out of my s kull boys

anyway heres from my au, pomni and ragatha talking about just trying to tell caine life in the circus sucks and they all want things to change sdfdfs

ANYWAY I BLACKED OUT AND ENDED UP WRITING A THREE PAGE SHORT FANFIC ABOUT THIS SCENE SO.... here goes ugh

Everything was quiet out there, in the big room scattered with blocks and suspended domes of darkened skyboxes. Pomni stood on the balcony. She stared up, along the spirals and ledges, into the Circus’ simulation of nighttime. She didn’t know what made her leave her room and come out there, but she did know she didn’t care for more nightmares like the ones last night brought. Then again, after everything that day—the funeral—she did doubt the likelihood of anything similar to that coming true. She hoped it wouldn’t, anyway.

“Can’t sleep?”

Pomni startled at the sound, whirled around. “Ragatha! Ah… w-why? Should we not… be out here at night?”

Ragatha chuckled, coming closer. “Oh, no, you’re good! Don’t worry about that.” She came to a stop beside Pomni, a few feet away. Her one vaguely humanoid eye glanced up into the night sky. “I just heard your door—I have trouble sleeping too, even after all this time, so I was awake—and I thought you might want someone to talk to. Only if you want, of course!”

“Oh. Okay.”

An awkward pause stretched between them. “Do you… want to talk, or…? I know you had a big day, with that NPC and whatnot, so…”

The shapes of the Circus floor sparkled like a deathly burst of confetti in Pomni’s mind for just a second. She squeezed her eyes shut. “No. No thanks. I just…”

Ragatha’s hands rose to try to comfort Pomni, but hesitated before they actually got close enough. Instead, she clasped them together in front of her. “That’s okay. It’s not easy to get used to. I can go.”

“No, it’s fine. I just—” It was rare that Pomni ever felt choked up. At least, she felt in her subconscious that it was—not that she remembered anything about life before… this. For some reason, though, everything was washing over her right then. Maybe it was Ragatha trying to get her to talk that was drawing it out of her, or maybe it had just finally all caught up to her. Either way, her gloved hands clenched into fists and she held her breath. She wasn’t sure if she even could cry, but she didn’t want to. Not to someone who was basically still a stranger. Albeit a nice one.

It had been a long time since Ragatha had seen anyone but Gangle on the brink of tears. She almost didn’t know what to do—almost. She sat down on the checkered floor, patted the ground by Pomni’s feet. She smiled up at her. Pomni stood still for a moment, unsure, before she finally sank down.

“Don’t worry about talking, if you don’t want to!” Ragatha said.

But words were already tumbling out of Pomni’s mouth, strangled against her tense vocal chords. “I just don’t understand why,” she said. “Why am I here? Why are any of us here? What could any of us have done to deserve being- trapped? Controlled? Why…” She shook her head, eyes towards the ceiling and skies again. She let her back meet the floor. “Why?”

Ragatha started to say something, but stopped herself and thought it over. Trying to act like there was any answer to that wasn’t helpful. She knew that by then. After a second, she laid down too. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry, Pomni. It’s just the way things are—how Caine runs them. There’s nothing any of us can do.”

“Why not?!” Pomni’s voice broke a little. She took a breath, calmed herself. “There has to be something. It can’t… it can’t be impossible to leave. It can’t!”

“I’m sorry,” Ragatha said again. “Believe me, if any real ‘exit’ existed, we’d probably have found it by now. The only way to change anything here is through Caine, and… well…”

Pomni inhaled. “Well what?”

“Well… letting us go isn’t in his program. Making us ‘happy’ is. That’s it. There’s no changing him.”

Pomni’s hands rose to her face. For a moment, she just stayed like that. Then something came to her. “But he’s not making us happy.”

“Yeah…”

Pomni’s head rose. “Does he know that?”

Something between surprise and confusion filled Ragatha’s face. “I… don’t know. He keeps trying the same stuff again and again, so… probably no.”

Things began to click into place in Pomni’s mind. “Then… then maybe we could tell him! Get him to change things! Let us have more say and… and maybe, eventually, leave. If he is made to make us happy, then he’ll listen if we all say we really, sincerely aren’t. Right?”

Ragatha thought about her words. “I mean,” she began, “I don’t remember anyone really trying anything like that in the time I’ve been here—not like what you’re saying, anyway. Maybe… maybe.”

“Then we have to. We have to try.”

Ragatha looked over at Pomni. The desperation she heard in her voice made her nervous, but the hope that came with it was swaying her. “Well… it could be worth a shot!” Pomni looked back at her, the simulated moonlight flickering in her red and blue eyes. The hope in them was growing stronger. It lifted Ragatha in a way she hadn’t been lifted in a long time and crushed her all at once; a wave of guilt came with the joy. Pomni would be disappointed, and Ragatha knew it. Trying to mitigate her optimism, she added, “I mean… it’s not like things can get much worse.”

Pomni’s eyes flicked back upwards. Disappointment, to a smaller degree, had already pricked her with just those doubtful words. “Right.”

Even more guilt filled Ragatha. “I can help bring it up to everyone else tomorrow,” she offered. “I really do think it’s something to try. I’ll stand by you on it!”

Pomni took a deep breath. Her voice was stable again, her breathing steadied by the hands she rested on her stomach. It was worth trying. Anything was worth trying at that point. Like Ragatha said, what could get worse? She shoved the doubts away, to the back of her mind—still very much there, but hidden behind determination. “Okay. Tomorrow.”

Ragatha smiled a little. Pomni didn’t. She just stared up. Silence hung between them again, though it wasn’t awkward anymore; it was tense, filled with fragile hopes, fluffy clouds drifting and evaporating in the sky. Yet, somehow, they both felt a kind of security in it. Security in chance.

“I really, really hope this works,” Pomni said.

“It… probably won’t, if I’m being honest,” Ragatha couldn’t help but say, a nervous chuckle punctuating her words.

“I-I know. Still.”

Something twinged in Ragatha’s chest that made her smile all the more sincerely. Some kind of familiarity maybe, or care, or… maybe a bit of her own hope, awoken after so long. “Well… that’s sure a breath of fresh air around here.” She closed her eye. “I like that about you, Pomni.”

Pomni glanced at Ragatha for a second, but she heard right. Maybe she did have a friend in the Circus after all. Maybe what she guessed after the funeral earlier was right. Maybe, even if whatever happened tomorrow didn’t go as planned, everything would be okay. Somehow.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #pomni #ragatha #tadc au #au #fanfic #tadc fanfiction #art #ragapom #sneaking that one in there hehaaa #yes theres gay subtext. of course #pomoderator

50 notes · View notes

ineedtopost · 24 hours

Text

Paolo stories and rumors and their sources

Ok, so in the last 23 days i've been talking to @nate-acmilan a lot and he really likes having sources for everything I tell him about Maldini. This has led me to two things, one, that others most likely want the sources to these stories, and two, I have found many sources for these things because of it. Also i've found a lot of random things too:

Rumors (Fully sourced)

So the first story I have a source for is Maradona saying that Paolo is too pretty to play football, which i'm pretty sure everyone has heard at some point. So basically I had another source for this, which is this one: https://arcobaleno2006.wordpress.com/2005/02/23/made-in-milan/

But then just before I posted this Nate sent a better one which is funnier and from a few years before: http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/football/988261.stm

2. Ok so this one isn't really a rumor or story but basically I am just going to assume everybody is curious about a source for Paolo liking coca-cola, so besides the pictures with him always having it I also have a source, which is just the magazine I got, because the others are taking super long to get here:

Though, there was another source for this but I don't remember, but it was among the ones for this list anyway. But his liking of cola is mentioned sometimes at random when people talk about him.

3. I think that everybody has different interpretations of what happened at his first training session, but what I originally heard was that Cesare just left him there and came back later, which is true. Also, he wasn't there for Paolo's debut match either, though to be fair it wasn't known it was going to be his debut. This source has both of those:

4. I don't know if this is known a lot or not but Paolo didn't graduate high school, he only got up to a middle school diploma. But I knew this, and of course was asked for a source, so here it is:

5. Also, I don't know if everyone has heard of this but I'm assuming some of you have, and it's Paolo liking Silence of the Lambs. Some sources say it's his favorite, some not, but I think this is where that idea originally comes from:

Semi-Sourced

For this section I have one thing so I won't be numbering it, but basically I have heard that Armani wanted Paolo to Model for him, at some point in the 90's. And I always thought that this took place in the late 90's, but actually it was apparently in 1994 when he said this, according to this:

However I have nothing else to go off of for this, so it's still semi-true because I haven't seen a direct quote from Armani.

Tid-Bits

Ok, so this section is just random things I found in my research and one of them is that, at least back in the day, Paolo walked on his tippytoes when he wasn't wearing shoes. It comes from a book where the author interviewed Paolo himself, and Adriana and Billy and Cesare and Ambrosini and Ancelotti etc., so I believe it to be true:

You can just download it from there for free. That in particular is on page 177-178.

2. This is something else that comes from that book, which is that as a kid his mom made him do gymnastics and guitar. This is from page 25.

3. Last, I know that Paolo used to have a website but I don't think any of us have actually seen it. But I found an archived version of it recently:

Ok so that's it. I don't know if there is anything else I forgot, but obviously if you want to ask about any stories or rumors do it because I might have sources for that as well. And no, @kvaradonaa, I still have not found the source for Paolo and Sheva sleeping in the same bed, which I know is devastating but I haven't seen anything about it since that one time. So yeah, but I also did this because no gatekeeping and also because those new magazines are taking forever to get here and I am bored.

#paolo maldini #no more gatekeeping #I have found many sources #because some days ive spent way too long on google #and i feel bad about just keeping them between like 2 people #so here you are

37 notes · View notes

nicofan57 · 3 days

Text

i wanted to talk about this clip so here’s my thoughts on it and the entire situation from yesterday (rest is under the cut)

(transcript:

minute: oh but why wemmbu, why, we- clown you and i were against him before, why-

clown: i didn’t like it either, okay, let me- you know why-

minute: ill tell you better- ill tell you better than anyone he’s just gonna use you and spit you out whenever it’s convenient. or whenever you’re no longer convenient for him. i know it better than anyone!

clown: i think we can handle wemmbu.

minute: he can't die!

clown: oh but he could drop- (?)

minute: he's just gonna sit tens of thousands of blocks out and wait for everyone to kill each other until he's the last one. i know this better than anyone! why didn't you talk to me?)

so first let’s dissect this clip. minute saying "i know this better than anyone" brings me back to kings s1 . they worked together to take down the other team that had the mythics and when wemmbu finally got a hold of the lifestealer (i can’t remember the exact details.. time for a rewatch) he threw minute out, saying there could only be one king. which sucks more when you think about at the start of the server, minute was open to teaming with wemmbu because he genuinely thought they were friends like he was not seeing that coming. someone warned him wemmbu is not trustworthy and he went “wemmbus my boy he wouldnt do that" (or something along those lines). and it’s like. well he did end up doing that. and minute realized he was being used all along.

fast forward to foundation when wemmbu literally said something along the lines of (again, sorry this might not be accurate) he’d team with minute because

- minute is powerful

- he has gear sets

- he would give him stuff

and most of all because he’s too kind for his own good. he wants peace even with his enemies, which we all know from the current arc right now. and wemmbu knows that all too well he knows he wouldnt refuse siding with him even considering their history on kings. anyway we all know how the abyss arc turned out for them with the orbital

so here is this clip i posted a while ago (linked here, because i cant put more than one video in a post apparently) where minute talks about how wemmbu's betrayed him a million times and how he says it hurts but he moves past it (this guy....) well clearly he’s not going to move past it now. because behind his back wemmbu has been working with zam, the person trying to break him mentally, and wemmbu’s stolen his position of power and is going to undo everything he’s worked towards. and the worst part about it is that he even convinced minutes teammates from day one to vote for him.

it’s pretty clear that wemmbu knows minute more and is able to get to him better than zam, he knows how to get into his head, he knows what actually fucks minute up, and no offense to zam because zam did end up winning… he achieved his goal by employing wemmbu! but i noticed minute isnt worried about zam that much anymore, or any of the players at all. it’s wemmbu because he knows what wemmbu can do and he knows how fucked up the server is going to be under his presidency. worst of all he knows what’s going to happen to his friends, he’s been in their shoes before, he knows they’re going to be left for dead when all is said and done, and even though they betrayed him and voted for wemmbu he still wants to save them because he knows it all too well (i think he also did say this). he still has some good left in him, even after the betrayal.

though the players are using wemmbu's presidency term to get what they want, it’s always going to end up being minute against wemmbu, it’s a cycle that ive noticed keeps repeating lately . thank you all forcoming to my ted talk

(p.s. i copied and pasted this from my twitter thread sorry if theres any weird formatting. or typos. or bad english pleabse be nice to me smiles)

#zam dont look #lifesteal spoilers #minutetech #wemmbu #tanya yaps #long post!!!! long post!!!!#my friends convinced me to put this here c:#lifesteal smp

31 notes · View notes

theonceandfuturequeenoftarts · 1 day

Text

Harry doesn’t handle it very well, the first day he and Voldemort spend apart.

When he wakes that morning, Voldemort is up and putting on robes much more elegant than any he’s worn since their capture. He’s going to meet with his Death Eaters – he says as much, but Harry had already guessed. No need to dress up and stand on ceremony with someone who’s seen you piss in a bucket.

Harry follows him silently to the library Floo. Voldemort grabs a handful of powder and looks as though he will leave just like that, but at the last minute he goes still.

Facing away from Harry, voice neutral and even, he says, “I will return.”

Harry nods, then makes some vague sound of assent when he realises Voldemort can’t see him. And then the Dark Lord is gone.

He should do one of the many things he’d thought of doing while they were in that cell. Write to Ron and Hermione or other friends and Order members. Go outside and enjoy the sunshine (well, what sunshine there is on a grey autumn day) and fresh air. Eat and drink whatever and as much as he likes.

He drops into a nearby chair and stares at the empty fireplace, hugging his legs to his chest.

It’s fine, he’s fine, Voldemort’s probably fine.

Probably.

Harry tries to remind himself that he’d known whenever Voldemort was being tortured – he could feel echoes through their connection. He would know if something was wrong. The only things he can feel through the bond are mild irritation (which Harry, having dealt with the Death Eaters before, can fully understand) and satisfaction (Nagini, his mind whispers).

Nothing to worry about there.

Harry starts plucking at the chair’s upholstery.

When Voldemort returns later that afternoon, he nearly trips over Harry as he exits the fireplace.

To save the chair from his anxious destruction, Harry had eventually trekked to the kitchen and baked enough bread to feed an army. Channelling his stress into the dough had helped keep him somewhat calm, but he’s pretty sure he overworked a few loaves. That had occupied a few hours, but he’d been too wound up to eat anything, so he’d returned empty-stomached to the library to wait.

And that’s where Voldemort finds him, seated on the hearth, dusted with flour and soot, halfheartedly pretending to read a book and about ready to storm Malfoy Manor or wherever the Death Eaters gather to make sure the Dark Lord is all right.

Which – Harry squints up at him consideringly – he is.

The look on Voldemort’s face is… actually quite funny, were Harry not as strung out as an addict kept from their substance of choice. He’d be more upset about that if Voldemort didn’t look as though their separation had strained him, too.

“Welcome back,” Harry says as he dusts himself off. Might as well sweep the past few hours of losing his mind under the rug and ignore their many, many issues – they’ll be there whenever he’s forced to confront them.

Voldemort is on board for pretending they’re functioning human beings, thankfully. “I’ve brought Nagini.”

And so he has. The four-metre long snake, wrapped around the older man’s torso, peeks her head up from his shoulder at her name.

Harry only hopes his words come out in Parseltongue. “Hello there.”

She rears back slightly, apparently not expecting him to speak her language. “Hatchling. Master says I’m not to eat you anymore.”

“How kind of him,” he says dryly. She hisses in agreement, not catching the sarcasm.

Voldemort unwinds her and sets her on the floor next to Harry. “I’ll leave you two to become acquainted,” he says as he heads towards the library door. “No biting.”

“You would bite Nagini?” she asks warily, coiling away from him. Dammit, Voldemort.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he attempts to reassure. “Your scales are, uh, much too beautiful for me to want to damage them.”

Appeased, she wriggles proudly. “Aren’t they?”

She shifts closer to him, butting her head into his hand. “You should express more appreciation for Nagini’s beautiful scales.”

He’s not entirely sure, but he thinks the giant murder snake is telling him to pet her. He rubs gently along Nagini’s chin and body, drawing contented noises from her. He murmurs some nonsense about how lovely her colouring is and she somehow manoeuvres the majority of her body into his lap and around him, praising him for his warmth. It’s, unexpectedly, really nice.

“Why,” Voldemort calls from the doorway, sounding just the tiniest bit perplexed. “Are there two dozen loaves of bread?”

Whoops.

(A long, hard road)

#codependent trauma buddies #harry potter #voldemort #harrymort #nagini #fic snippet #ALHR #post-VII

43 notes · View notes