#“It was the best thing i've ever done”

[fangirl-dot-com]

🪡The Obvious String

*part of the reverse trope series*

Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?

*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 

Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 

Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 

So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 

And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)

His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 

“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 

Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 

Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 

The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 

Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 

Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 

The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 

“We?” 

Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 

When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 

His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 

Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 

Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 

The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 

“And why are the two of you here?” 

Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 

“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 

“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”

Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 

“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 

Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 

“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 

“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”

A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 

Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 

The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 

The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 

All he got was a glare back. 

“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 

Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 

“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 

It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 

“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 

“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 

The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 

Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 

The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 

“But George.” 

Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 

“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 

The group of four winced at the memory. 

Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 

Lewis looked a bit pale. 

“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 

Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 

Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  

Lando ran a hand down his face. 

“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 

George cocked his head. 

“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 

Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 

George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 

Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 

A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 

When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 

“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”

Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 

Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 

“Yes! Do you?” 

The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 

“No.” 

The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 

“Why would you do that!” 

Now Lewis was the one whining. 

“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 

The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 

“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 

“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 

All eyes landed on Oscar. 

The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 

Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  

An audible gulp was heard. 

Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”

Everyone looked a little lost. 

“Aha!” 

The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 

“What!” 

He held his phone up with a contact showing. 

“We call Seb.” 

“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 

For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 

“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 

A sigh was heard through the speaker. 

“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 

Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 

“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 

Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 

Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 

Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 

“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 

Their silence had answered for them. 

Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 

“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 

“Hey!” 

It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 

“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 

“What!” Pierre yelled. 

“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 

“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 

“Ask them what?” 

The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 

“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 

Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 

He took a sip of his Red Bull. 

Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 

“Hey!” 

Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 

“Thank you Charles.” 

The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 

“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 

The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 

Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 

“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 

The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 

Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 

“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 

Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 

“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 

Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 

“Thank you schatje.” 

This time, a whine came from you. 

“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 

Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 

“WHAT?” 

You turned back to the group. 

“Are you all fine?” 

Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 

The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 

Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”

Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 

Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 

Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 

“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 

It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 

A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 

Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 

“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 

You nodded. “Yes.” 

Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 

The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 

“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 

Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”

A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 

“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 

Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 

Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 

The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 

“You won’t tell anyone right?” 

Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 

Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 

Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 

Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 

Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 

Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 

“Then . . . who knows?” 

Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 

“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 

You pulled out his fingers and counted.  

“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 

Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 

Max smirked. 

“Oh, and Seb.” 

There was silence amongst the group. 

“Oh he is so dead.” 

“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 

“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 

“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 

“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 

“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 

“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 

You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 

You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 

Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 

“Nah.” 

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[zegrasdrysdale]

matthew knies smut — losing ur v card to him

[ helping hand ] m. knies

paring : Matthew Knies x fem!reader

summary : Matthew helps his best friend out after she asks him to take her virginity

warning(s) : smut ! loss of virginity, virgin!reader, light dirty talk, slight hair pulling (blink and you'll miss it tbh) oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, protected sex, use of pet names during sex (pretty girl, baby, etc.), multiple orgasms

author’s note : felt like writing something cute so i decided to tackle this request and make it as cute as i could. this is my first time writing for kniesy so if it’s bad then pls tell me lol

༺═──────────────═༻

Being a 20-year-old virgin sucks. Every time she tries to hook up with a guy, she blurts out that she’s “never done this before” and it scares him away. Needless to say, she is getting very tired of being a virgin. She's loves sex, but she's never gone all the way with a guy.

Tonight was just another reminder that she's never been fucked. She thought that after her date, he'd take her back to his apartment and she'd finally lose her virginity. Then he said that his mom was going to be home soon just as things started getting heated, right after she had said that she's never gone all the way.

It's a tiring pattern.

She's frustrated, and frustration means stomping up to her longtime best friend's Toronto apartment a little before eleven. She pounds her fist on Matthew's door then waits. There are light footsteps behind the door before it's pulled open.

Matthew looks like he just woke up, and she feels bad. His Toronto hockey shirt is a little wrinkled and he's wearing sweats. His hair is a complete disaster. "Did I wake you?" she questions.

He yawns, but shakes his head no. "I was just closing my eyes," he tells her. "I thought you were out on a date or something. Why are you here?"

"You'll never guess what happened," she sighs as she walks past him into his apartment. "I did it again."

Matthew laughs and shuts the door behind her. "You need to stop," he comments. "You're never going to lose it if you keep telling guys that you haven't gone all the way. You're twenty."

"I know!" she groans as she plops down onto his couch. "It's like a get scared or something and it just comes out. I wish I could just get it over with and then it won't come out."

He sits beside her and she looks up at him. "Don't rush it," he tells her. "It's not all that anyway. Just wait until you find someone you trust and genuinely like."

A light bulb flicks on in her head. She sits up and turns her body to face Matthew. "Will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Sleep with me so I'm not a virgin anymore," she finishes. He raises his eyebrows and looks like he's about to object. "I mean, I trust you with everything I have. You're my best friend. You're not bad looking. I've known you for years, Matthew. I'd be okay if you did this for me. It wouldn't change anything with us."

Matthew thinks about it. She knows by the way he sighs and runs his fingers through his messy hair. "You're sure about this?" he questions. "Because I don't want to do this then-"

She rolls his eyes in frustration and cups his jaw. She pulls him into a kiss, and it surprises her when she feels her heart beat out of her chest when her lips meet his. Even Matthew is thrown off by the kiss. He immediately pulls back. She drops her hands to her lap.

"I'm not going to regret it, Matt," she tells him as her eyes meet his. Have his eyes always been this pretty and blue? She's never been this close to see how blue they are. "I promise. It might bring us closer as friends if we do this. I'm not going to stop being your friend because you slept with me."

He still doesn't seem very convinced. "This is going to change us," he tells her. "No matter what. I just want both of us to be ready for that."

With a nod, her eyes flicker down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes. "I know," she replies. "Just ... please. I'll never ask you for anything ever again if you do this for me."

Matthew searches her face for any signs that she doesn't want this. He won't find any. If she's going to lose her virginity to anyone, she wouldn't mind losing it to her best friend. She wants this.

He doesn't say "okay" or anything like that. All he does is grab her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "If this is what you really want then I'll do it," he says to her, voice slightly higher than a whisper.

"I really want this," she confirms. "Seriously."

His eyes drop to her lips before he leans in and gently presses his lips to hers, and her eyes flutter shut. Her heart beats out of her chest with how soft and gently he kisses her.

The kisses don't immediately turn heated and needy. Matthew makes sure of that. When they do though, she climbs onto his lap in the red minidress that she's wearing. She straddles his thighs and wraps her arms loosely around his neck. Matthew's hands drop to the bare skin on her thighs.

Her heels clatter to the carpeted floor beneath them with a thud. Her fingers find a home and curl in his locks. She tugs gently and a soft noise comes from Matthew. She smiles into the kiss that follows and tucks this piece of information away for later.

She traps his bottom lip between her teeth and pulls back. She watches it snap back into place. Matthew looks up at her and she sees that his eyes have darkened a bit. There's a dark fire between them and she can tell he's trying to hold himself back.

"Pretend it's not me," she tells him as her hands drag down his neck and chest until they come to a rest on his torso. She play with the hem of his t-shirt. "I can tell, Matt. You're holding back because it's me."

Matthew shakes his head. "I'm holding back because I want to do this right," he replies. "It's not because it's you. I want to make sure that it's perfect for you."

"Then don't hold back," she whispers to him as she attaches her lips to his jaw right under his ear. "It'll be perfect no matter what."

A shaky sigh passes Matthew's kiss-bruised lips. He kisses the swell of her ear and she keeps working at his jaw.

Before she realizes what's happening, Matthew slides his hands to the back of her thighs and stands up. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "It's insane how easily you were able to just pick me up like that," she comments.

"I work out everyday," Matthew replies as he makes his way down the hallway to his bedroom. "Sometimes twice a day. I lay hits on grown men that weigh as much as I do or heavier for a living. I hope that I can lift someone up that is nearly a foot shorter than me and weighs less than what I bench."

She can't contain the giggle that rises in her throat as he crosses the threshold into his room. "That's kind of hot of you, Matt," she admits. "I mean, I don't know how you're single when you bench more than I weigh."

He kicks the door shut behind him and gently sets her down so she's flat on her feet. She sees the flush in his cheeks despite the dimly lit room. She smiles and gets on her tiptoes to instigate another kiss. Matthew has to lean down to kiss her because of the heigh difference between them. His hands rest on her cheeks and she rests against the door.

They stand there for what feels like an eternity. She's almost certain that the lace panties she has on under the dress are ruined. She hasn't be able to stop thinking about Matthew's fingers on her thighs while they were in the couch, not to mention the fact that he was able to pick her up with almost no effort.

Her fingers curl around the hem of his t-shirt and she pulls at it. "Off," she mumbles against his lips. "Matt, please. Off."

The kiss breaks and Matthew reaches down to pull the fabric over his head. Her eyes rake his body and it's very obvious that he works out every day. Her fingers trace his abs and she bites her bottom lip.

Okay, maybe he's more attractive than she's let herself admit. She's never really allowed herself to look at him like this. She's never let herself admire him like this.

Matthew hooks his fingers under the very thin straps that sit on her shoulders. She looks up at him and notices how focused he is on his actions. He pulls the straps off her shoulders and lets the dress fall so it pools at her ankles. She's in her strapless bra and matching panties. She notices Matthew's eyes drink her in.

She puts her hands on his chest and gently pushes him in the direction of his bed. She kicks the dress off so she can follow him. As soon as Matthew sits back on the bed, she crawls onto his lap. Her knees bracket his thighs. She leans in and ravishes his mouth with hers. One of his hands finds its way to her curls and he holds the back of her head so she can’t break the heated kiss.

Without realizing she does it, she rolls her hips against his. He hums and his other hand comes down on her bare waist.

A surge of confidence overcomes her and she reaches behind her. She unhooks her bra and lets the red lace fall between them. She tosses it somewhere at the same time Matthew breaks the kiss.

Her entire body shakes with nerves.

It’s just Matthew. They’ve been friends since his first year at Minnesota. Best friends since his sophomore year. She visited him earlier in the season and fell in love with Canada so she moved into an apartment down the street from him.

She can do this.

Matthew lifts her head up and says, “I’ve got you. Okay? I have you. Whatever you want.”

“I want you,” she tells him. “Please. I need you.”

He moves back on the bed and flips them over so he hovers over her. Her curls create a halo around her head. Matthew thumbs her swollen lips and trails it down over her chin, over her chest, between her breasts, and down her stomach until his fingers rest at the waistband of her panties. Goosebumps follow his fingers down her upper body.

She can feel the bulge in his pants so she bucks her hips up to grind her clothed core against the bulge. “Shit,” he gasps. “You can’t just do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll come before either of us are ready.”

She lets out a light laugh. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” she teases.

“Shut up,” he mumbles before shutting her up himself with a deep kiss. She smiles and hooks her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants.

She pushes his sweatpants down and over his ass. He helps her out and kicks them off.

When she tries to put her hand in his boxers, Matthew stops her. He breaks the kiss and shakes his head. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. I’m going to make sure you feel good and make sure you’re comfortable, okay?” he says to her.

“Okay,” she replies, voice barely above a whisper.

With her permission, Matthew hooks his fingers in the waistband of her panties and slowly pulls the thin fabric off her body. He tosses them to the floor and she lets her knees fall open.

Matthew attaches his lips to her jaw, then slowly trails his lips down her body. He makes a quick stop when he gets to her breasts. He gives each one a little attention and she lets out a soft noise. She bites her lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises.

He lies on his stomach and throws her legs over his broad shoulders. She watches as he presses soft kisses to her leg trailing from her inner knee and up her inner thigh. He stops right before he gets to her core.

“Already so wet for me,” he comments. She nods and grabs a pillow to rest her head on so she doesn’t get a crick in her neck.

That’s when Matthew slides a finger through her soaked folds. A whine passes her lips and she looks down at him with her eyes. He teases her entrance and she gasps, “I- Matthew. Don’t tease please. Do something.”

“Didn’t think you were a begger, pretty girl,” he replies. She shoots him a glare and he laughs.

She’s about to say something to him when he wraps his lips around her clit. “Oh my- fuck” is what comes out of her mouth instead. Matthew hums and sends vibrations through her entire body. He slowly pushes a finger into her and her back arches off the bed.

Matthew’s free hand slides up her body and cups one of her tits. She didn’t pick Matthew to be a boob guy, but today is full of surprises.

Soft pants pass her lips as Matthew keeps using his mouth and fingers to bring her closer to an orgasm. He adds a second finger and her hands fly to his hair. Her breathing has gotten extremely labored and soft noises consistently pass her lips.

He’s so careful with his movements, so precise. He knows what he’s doing, and she’s not at all surprised that he does. She didn’t realize just how much he knew. Despite never actually hooking up before, it’s like he knows her entire body and what she likes.

Once a third finger is inside of her, Matthew curls his fingers in a “come here” motion. She gasps and a knot forms in the pit of her stomach. “Matt,” she groans. “I- Matthew.”

“Let me hear you,” he tells her. “Wanna hear you when you come on my fingers. Can you do do that for me?”

She nods and hums. “Yeah,” she breathes out.

“Go ahead, pretty girl,” Matthew says. “Come for me. I can feel how close you are.”

His lips are back on her clit and she’s coming seconds later.

Her back arches off the mattress as her walls clench around his fingers. Her body turns into jelly as he fingers her through what’s probably the strongest orgasm she’s ever had. She swears she blacks out.

Her breathing is extremely labored as Matthew withdraws his fingers. She whimpers at the loss and watches him crawl up her body when her vision comes back. He smiles when he sees how out of it she probably looks.

Matthew peppers her cheek with soft kisses as she comes to.

“You okay?” he asks. “Can you do one more?”

“Mhm,” she hums. “Want you inside me, Matt. Please. I need you.”

He captures her lips in a soft kiss and she groans when she tastes herself on his lips.

It’s a very quick kiss. Matthew reaches over into his bedside drawer and pulls out a tiny foil package. He puts it between his teeth as he pushes his boxers off his body. She bites her lip as Matthew’s dick pops out of the confines of the boxers.

She accidentally saw his dick one time before now, and it looked nothing like it does right now. “Jesus, Matt,” she gasps. “Is it gonna fit?”

Matthew laughs and slides the condom onto his dick. “I promise it’ll fit,” he tells her.

He hover over her between her legs. The tip of his dick lines up with her entrance and she shakes. Her heart races in her chest and she stares up at the pretty boy above her. “Slow,” she tells him. “Okay? I don’t know-”

“Tell me if you need me to stop or if it hurts,” he interrupts. “I’ll move at your pace, okay? I have you.”

She nods. “Go.”

Matthew slowly pushes into her. She gasps as the unfamiliar stretch and grasps onto his biceps. The deeper he goes, the more it hurts. She pushes through though and pain eventually turns into pleasure.

He moves so slow though that it’s almost painful. She wants him to ruin her but she wants to be able to walk in the morning. Whatever that will look like.

She reaches up and slides her hair into Matthew’s hair. His eyes lock with her as he bottoms out in her. Her lips are pressed in a line. “Okay?” he asks.

With a nod, she says, “I’m okay. Give me a second. You’re fucking big, Matt. Damn.”

He laughs. “That’s not my fault,” he replies. “Most women I hook up with like it.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, asshole,” she retorts. “I said I needed a second.”

Matthew laughs again and she pulls him down into a kiss to shut him up. He licks into her mouth and she groans.

Feeling ready, she rolls her hips. One of Matthew’s hands rests on her waist and he meets her movements.

It’s slow, but it feels good. He slowly but deeply thrusts into her. She moans into Matthew’s mouth and he swallows every noise. Her hands slide from his hair to his back. She gently digs her nails into his skin.

He speeds his movements up a bit and she throws her head back against the pillows. “Fuck,” she gasps. “God. Matt.”

“Okay, baby?” he asks. “Good to keep going?”

She nods. “Like you mean it,” she pants. Matthew’s smile reaches his ears.

Matthew throws one of her legs over his shoulder and is able to move deeper into her at the new angle. She cries out his name and he attaches his lips to her neck. He’s covering her entire body at this point. It’s not only his dick that’s big. Matthew himself is a bigger guy.

He slows his movements but continues to bury his cock in her. The knot forms again in the pit of her stomach.

“Matt, I-”

“Me too,” he interrupts. “This is about you. I’m not gonna come until you come on my cock, pretty girl.”

She feels tears in her eyes as she tries to keep herself from coming. It feels too good and she doesn’t want it to end yet.

Especially since this is probably the first and last time she gets this from Matthew. She wants it to last.

Matthew slides a hand between them and as soon as his fingers find her clit again, she comes.

His name is on her lips as he fucks her through what is definitely the strongest orgasm of her life. Her entire body shudders as she comes. Her vision goes white for a hot second and she completely melts against the mattress beneath her. Her legs fall to the bed.

He comes into the condom before he pulls out of her. They’re both panting messes as he ties off the condom and throws it out. She very lazily crawls under the covers and Matthew joins her.

There’s a comfortable silence between them as they both recover from their highs. She finally gains feeling back in all her extremities and looks over at him.

“Thank you,” she weakly says.

“For?”

“Doing that for me. It was fun. I enjoyed it.”

Matthew sits up in bed and leans back against the headboard just as she went to curl up next to him. “I should’ve said something before we did that,” he admits to her.

She sits up and holds the blankets under her arms to keep herself covered. “What?”

He bites his kiss-bruised bottom lip for a second. “I have feelings for you,” he confesses. “Genuine feelings for you and I feel guilty for saying yes before telling you that.”

A day full of surprises.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same. There is a reason she asked him of all her friends to do this for her. She’s always known he was attractive, a genuine guy and an incredible hockey player.

She’s damn lucky that Matthew agreed to have sex with her.

Matthew looks terrified. She smiles and drops her head to his shoulder. “You should see the look on your face,” she laughs.

“I’m being serious,” he tells her.

“I know,” she replies. Her chin rests on his shoulder. “I like you too. Why do you think I asked you to do this and not someone else?”

He blinks. “I thought you were just tired of being a twenty year old virgin,” he flatly states.

“There was that but I wanted it to be you,” she admits. “I guess I was just shooting my shot.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Matthew laughs.

She crawls onto his lap and lays on him. “When do I get one of those cool jackets the wives and girlfriends have?”

“You want one?”

“I do,” she tells him as she looks up at him. “Is that okay? If I got one?”

Matthew smiles and nods. “I’ll get you one.”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !

taglist: @dasiysthings @equallyshaw @dancerbailey3 @love4lando @ivy-34

#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey smut #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl smut #matthew knies #matthew knies x reader #matthew knies smut #zegrasdrysdale request

[greater-than-the-sword]

Please be wary of imposing things that have worked as good spiritual habits for you onto the lives of other people as law.

I'm afraid even the best teachers and pastors have done this but it's precisely because these habits were born out of sincere desire that it worked for them, and it's admirable to have strong self discipline and dedication and wish to share such habits as ideas with other people but please don't let anyone tell you that you are sinning if you don't:

Read the bible at a specific time of day

Read through the whole bible every year

Never miss church ever (even if you're sick)

Schedule your travel so that you never miss church

Avoid being in a room alone with someone of the opposite sex

Have a bible that's literally physically in bad repair

Many, many other things I've heard people speak as if they were law

#Christianity

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

A NOT SO MEET CUTE ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

| percy jackson x popstar au

| au masterlist ☽

summary: the first time you and percy meet isn't the best of circumstances and opinions are formed

warnings: swearing and i think thats just about it!

a/n: *in announcer voice* hello and welcome to my first au series, percy and the popstar - help the first time i thought of that my mind went to 'the princess and the popstar' 😭 - im using gracie, masie peters and taylor swift lyrics and faceclaims because im unoriginal as shit :) so if i've used a ts lyric and she's also liked a post lets just collectively ignore that okay!! anyway its unedited but i hope you enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!!

~~~

percy jackson is famous.

ok thats putting it lightly, percy jackson is extremely famous. in fact he is one of the youngest million-almost-billion-aires in the world. the twenty-two year old has an incredible influence on the world. how he got famous? no one really knows.

maybe its the fact that society drops at the feet of any good-looking rich boy. or maybe he actually did work for it like the rest of the word, we'll never know.

but.

y/n l/n is even more famous.

she's a force to be reckoned with, taking the world by storm with her music and setting the industry alight with her influence. she's got power, beauty and talent and she's not afraid to show it, the recently-turned twenty-one year old has turned the world on its head. case and point; her world tour that she's embarked on. y/n l/n switched things up and instead of starting in the u.s she's finishing here in good ol' new york!

l/n has one final show in florida and two more in boston and then we welcome her home to nyc.

why am i writing an article about y/n l/n and percy jackson i hear you ask? because the young celebrities were both spotted at a high end restaurant in florida, whether they were actually together or not remains to be discovered...

~~~

"would you put your phone down?" lia sighs, setting down an iced coffee in front of you. "you've been staring at that article all morning- its not even a credible source. its probably just some random high schooler blogging."

"i know," you huff and glare at her when she steals your phone from you. "but seriously? percy jackson? come on! i've never even met the guy."

"ooh he is yummy," lia says looking at your phone, at the photo of percy that was pasted at the top of the article. "i mean, ew yucky, he's like the ugliest person ever, i definitely don't want to bang him."

"bang him?" you laugh. "please for the love of god, never say that again."

lia just shrugs and picks up her own coffee taking a sip. "it's trueee."

sighing you lean back into your seat and look around the extravagant living room you're both currently resting in. its a few hours before you have to start getting ready for your final show here in florida and you can feel the anticipation starting to build under your skin.

"omigoshlookatthis," lia shrieks shoving your phone into your face.

"are you seriously stalking his instagram right now?" you raise your eyebrows at her.

"what? as i said he. is. hot."

your eyes flick quickly over his instagram not really seeing the appeal - sure he's good looking in a noticeable, obvious kinda way - but all he seems to post is pictures of him and how rich he is. ugh. be more creative - his insta is like every other boys. shirtless pics and vacations.

then your eyes settle on one thing in particular. "wait! you followed him?"

"shit," lia's eyes widen. "fuck this isn't going to help is it?"

"do something!" you shriek leaping off the couch. "do something! unfollow him! do something!"

"shit shit shit shit," lia cries as you both fly around the room in hysteria - you're both acting like teenage girls honestly - but at this point you don't care.

"fix it! fix it!"

"ok ok! done! i unfollowed him." lia's quiet for a moment and then she panics again. "ahhh fuck he's ONLINE!"

"noooooo! do you think he saw it?" you slap lia in the shoulder. "LIA!" hands shaking as you slump back down. "fuck. oh my god. this is going to be all over the internet."

"it'll be okay," lia comforts sitting down next to you. "it's not like you're famous or anything."

~~~

just now

yn.user followed you

"PERCY FUCKING JACKSON WHAT DID YOU DO?"

those aren't usually percy's favorite words. so when he hears grover yelling this from the hotel bathroom - why the bathroom? don't ask.

"what? what?" percy yells back.

"PERCY MOTHER FUCKING JACKSON WHAT DID YOU DO?" okayyy thats is definitely not good if luke was yelling at him too.

"WHAT?" percy yells back.

"PERCY-"

"I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU SAY WHAT DID YOU DO ONE MORE TIME-"

luke and grover both stalk into the living room with chris and clarisse hot on their heels all supporting bewildered looks on their faces.

"do you know y/n l/n?" grover asks narrowing his eyes.

"the singer right?" percy asks confused still.

"check your insta right now," clarisse jumps in.

percy still confused as ever pulls out his phone eyebrows nearly springing off his face when he sees the notification on insta.

"wait what?"

"y/n l/n followed you for like two minutes and then unfollowed you again. its all over twitter, instagram, everything - especially after that dumb article went around," luke explains.

"it doesn't matter," percy sighs chucking his phone back onto the couch beside him.

"uh yes it does!" grover practically yells. "do you know where we're all going tonight? to her concert! this is going to feed every horny teenage girls dream." grover shoots percy an exasperated look. "my god, the rumours and theories that are gonna come out after this is insane."

"who cares what people think about us? it isn't true. besides y/n is probably one of those girls."

"those girls?" clarisse asks her eye brows raised.

"y'know, pretentious little daddy's girls who clearly have everything handed to them on a silver platter? those girls."

"whatever you say dumbass," chris chuckles.

"we're going to that concert tonight, percy," grover says turning on him. "shit is going to hit the fan because of it, but we're going. because i paid a fortune for those tickets and clarisse and i really wanna see y/n."

"whatever you say buddy, whatever you say."

☾. ⋅

yn.user

liked by oliviarodrigo, sabrinacarpenter, lia.mandel and 342, 789 others

yn.user florida!!! is one hell of a drug! thank you so much for the love and support you've shown me these past few night florida!!! you've been an amazing audience and i can't wait to come back here 🤍🩵

view all comments

user1 omg omg best night of my lifeee

user2 is that a possible song lyric i see there???

user3 omfg it could be. the three !!! at the end of both floridas??

user4 everybody wake up y/n has posted!

user7 did anyone else see her follow percy jackson and then unfollow him??? no just me?

user6 holy shit yess i saw that

user5 i smell a new ship brewing

user8 WAIT didn't he go to last night's show??

user10 why isn't he waiting for the new york concerts? he lives there right? why go allll the way to florida?

user9 mother is mothering

☾. ⋅

"i told you this would happen!" you huff to lia when she walks into your bedroom a few mornings later. "my entire comment section has been filled with people questioning about percy! i've never even met the guy!"

lia who had been assigned the role - self-assigned - the role to get you out of bed just rolls her eyes and drags the covers off you. "i know as you keep saying. but there is nothing we can do about it- short from announcing that it was a mistake. no one will even believe that anyway, so just let it go."

reluctantly you leave the comfort of your bed and slip into the clothes lia had picked out, trailing after her like a lost puppy. this usually happens between concerts, you return home and rest in your bed (with lia more often than not) not leaving it unless you need to, then lia comes parading in and announces that you're going out and since you have little fight left in you - you always agree.

ignoring the countless paparazzi as you make your way into the cafe you listen to lia as she blabs on about how she's never going to forgive you for not telling her you were adding a new song to your setlist without telling her.

you're so wrapped up in your own head you don't even see the person in front of you until you're slamming into them. and they've spilt coffee down your front.

"ah shit."

"fuck sorry."

you look up and its none other than the percy jackson. well hey! you've officially met him now!

"you good?" percy asks glasses and a cap cover his face but you still recognise him - what? lia's obsessed. and you were subjected to listen about her love for him - and the tone of his voice already pissed off and bored. it's like he was concerned until the second he recognised you. rude.

he doesn't even spare you a second glance before he's flipping you off.

"excuse me?" you say pulling his hand down. "did you just flip me off?"

percy's face pulls into a smirk and you just look up at him in disgust, brush past him and say "whatever asshole." at the same time he says. "later bitch."

fucker you're both thinking.

☾. ⋅

☾. ⋅

TAGLIST‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ [if you're name is white it mean i couldn't tag you] @lauptimist, @itzmeme, @mariaaaaaahhhh, @paankhaleyaar, @maybxlle, @lara20aral [if you want to be added just let me know!]

#percy x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy x y/n #percy x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson fic #percy pjo #percy jackson #fanfic #fanfiction #percy x popstar au ₊ ⊹ #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆

[yandere-romanticaa]

I've had a very fun and fruitful conversation with @allfearstofallto and she had some very strong reactions for a story about yandere Diluc and Tartaglia that has been marinating in my mind for a while now. I'll just give you a brief version of my idea.

You and the 11th Fatui Harbinger are to be wed. With your freedom stripped away from you and with your wedding date fast approaching, you are working tirelessly to escape the Harbinger's grasp.

However, even with your freedom stripped away, even if you have no autonomy on your own, there's an inkling in your heart in which you cannot hate your captor. He is far too kind and gentle towards you, the way in which he treats you makes your heart swell with a plethora of emotions.

But enough is enough.

You need to leave. Fast.

One evening, you act sweeter, more submissive than usual. Your fiancee eats it up and is delighted by this change in attitude. His happiness is evident because now things can proceed without a hitch. Don't worry darling, you won't be anywhere near his work. He'll keep you safe, fed and loved.

All he asks in return is to be in your heart. Love him. Love him, please. It's a hard request, a selfish one even, he knows this.

He can make it up to you. He can and he will.

He promises.

You kiss him in bed, telling him that you understand. Your eyes shift towards the hidden suitcase in the corner as you feel the drugs start to kick in. Tartaglia is fast asleep, and you finally taste the sweetness of freedom.

The man wakes up the next morning in a daze. The bed is empty and cold.

His heart shatters into a million pieces. He roars out your name like a wounded animal, his throat sore and bleeding from the pain.

He must find you.

Meanwhile, you made your way towards the City of Freedom.

You settle in, find a job, a place to live in. It's hard but you manage.

You ignore the lingering presence that you feel behind you when you're alone at night. You're making it all up, you keep telling yourself.

No one is following you.

One evening, you enter a cozy tavern. You order a drink and it is prepared by a handsome, albeit stoic bartender. You manage to get him to open up. He introduces himself as Diluc, the owner of the fine establishment in which you sat in.

How neat.

Due to various different factors, after a short while Diluc takes you in. He is patient and strict. It's an improvement.

You don't know about his ever growing obsession with you. You don't know about the endless sea of portraits he has of you. He keeps it all hidden well under wraps.

Regardless, Diluc is still only human. It's only natural that his jealousy would bubble up and rear in its ugly head from time to time.

Dawn Winery is in a way, forced to attend a massive social gathering. Diplomats from the North are everywhere and, of course, Tartaglia spots you in the crowd.

Even if his eyes were to be plucked out, he would always manage to recognize you.

Tensions rise and the danger of bloodlust reeks in the air. Much to his chagrin, Childe cannot simply just kill Diluc and be done with it.

He is being forced to play Mr Nice Diplomat.

Oh the horror, being stuck between these two.

Now, since this has the potential to be long as fuck, I was thinking of making it into a multiple part story. The best name I could come up with it so far was "A Song of Ice and Fire". I'm open to title names, if someone has better ideas. An important note to add would be that this would be a serious commitment for me as I haven't done a story like this in years. Chapter updates would probably take me a long time due to my job and potential lack of energy, but this idea has been in my brain for years now, which is a clear sign that I'm passionate about it. And, my question is - would you like for me to make this story come to life?

#yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere diluc #genshin impact #♥️ girlie says

[cosmerelists]

Stormlight Characters Meet an Octopus

As requested by @miss-madithe-baddie :)

It's Octopus Time on Roshar!

1. Kaladin

Kaladin: [stares at octopus] Octopus: [stares at Kaladin] Kaladin: So it...what? Is it one of those creatures that squishes down into crevices during storms? It doesn't look like it has bones. Kaladin: Kinda big though. Would need a big crevice. Octopus: [stares at Kaladin] Kaladin: ... Kaladin: I feel like it's judging me, somehow.

2. Bridge Four

Moash: Well, I don't like it. Moash: An animal with no carapace is unnatural. Rlain: ...You're an animal without a carapace. Moash: W-Well, it's different for humans! We can build houses! Drehy: Maybe the giant squish bug builds houses. Drehy: We all saw it pick up the shell and put it on its head. Skar: That's more fashion than construction, I think. Sigzil: We saw it go into the water. It's a sea creature. Sigzil: Sea creatures don't need carapaces like land animals do. Moash: It's on the land right now!! Skar: Guys, shut up! It's wearing a shell as a hat again! Renarin: It really is quite fashionable.

3. Adolin

Adolin: Sure is weird looking! Adolin: Look! It has little sticky cups under its legs! Kaladin: D-Don't grab it! It's gonna bite you! Adolin: I bet it can crawl up walls 'n' stuff! Adolin: Hey, isn't that something you can do too, Bridgeboy? Kaladin: I use Stormlight! Not sticky vine legs! Adolin: Bet its some kind of tiny Windrunner. Kaladin: It is NOT!

4. Shallan

Shallan: Hush, all of you. Shallan: This thing is beautiful! Gorgeous! Octopus: [abruptly changes color to match surroundings] Shallan: !! Shallan: Talented! Amazing! Shallan: This might be the most important drawing I'll ever do! Adolin: ...You drew me last week for our wedding anniversary? Shallan: [already drawing] And you didn't even change color ONCE!

5. Lopen

Lopen: [staring intently at octopus] Lopen: [staring intently at octopus] Lopen: [staring intently at octopus] Lopen: [concentration face] Rock: ...You're trying to grow more arms, aren't you? Lopen: I didn't know EIGHT was an option!

6. Zahel

Zahel: I've seem those things before. Zahel: Very smart. Zahel: Very tasty. Rock: ...Tasty you say? Shallan: NO

7. Navani

Navani: Seeing this bizarre creature gives me so many ideas. Navani: Dalinar, do you think we should build semi-aquatic vehicles that can go on both land and water and develop color-changing camouflage technology? Dalinar [trying to be a supportive husband]: And perhaps the land-water vehicle could have...tentacles? Navani: No ideas are wrong in the brainstorming stage. Navani: But also no.

8. Dieno (the Mink)

Dieno: [gives octopus a bro nod] Octopus: [gives Dieno a bro nod back] Dalinar: ...What was that? Dieno: Ah, it is nothing! Just two master escape artists recognizing each other. Dalinar: Escape...artist? Dalinar: This creature has done nothing but sit on that rock and occasionally go into that pool this whole time. Dieno: Yet nevertheless, people like us...we recognize each other. Dalinar: ... Dalinar: [doubtfully] If you say so. 

9. Dalinar

It is later. Dalinar is walking through Urithiru. Something from above touches his face with a thwick sound. He looks up. The Octopus is looking down at him from the ceiling, one tentacle reaching down. Lift is also in the ceiling. Lift gives him a thumbs up. Dalinar keeps walking.

10. Lift

Lift: Today has been the greatest day of my life. Lift: I had no IDEA there so many vents 'n' shit that someone like you could squish through! Lift: And when you used your dark water attack to push that button? Amazing! Lift: Even I had trouble keeping up with you!! Lift: Truly, you are my new best friend.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Stormlight Archive #Kaladin #Adolin #Shallan #Dalinar #Navani #Lopen #Lift #Dieno #Zahel

[diazsdimples]

Buddie "wish I could carry you in my pocket"

"Wish I could carry you around in my pocket," Buck sighs as he gazes lovingly at Eddie sitting on the kitchen table. He's just a little too short for his legs to touch the ground, so he's got his ankles hooked together as he swings his legs back and forth. That, plus the oversized hoodie he's wearing have the effect of making him look like an overgrown toddler and Buck thinks he is simply adorable.

The minute the words leave his lips, Buck has an idea. A year or so ago, Buck had been messing around with one of Maddie's old spellbooks when he'd come across a Shrinking Spell. Thinking it would be useful if he ever needed to pull someone out of a mound of rubble or remove a crush, Buck had learned the spell, accidentally shrinking Maddie's laptop before figured out the reversing spell and had put it to right.

"Hmm?" Eddie says, lifting his eyes ever so slightly from the cookbook he's studying. "What was that, baby?"

Buck rolls up his sleeves and flexes his fingers a little. "Oh nothing, don't mind me." He clicks his fingers and looks pleased as a small shower of blue sparks rain onto the hardwood floors. There's a very faint smell of sea salt, but hopefully not enough for Eddie to notice. "Hold still."

"Wha-?"

Eddie barely has a moment to register Buck's words before Buck does a series of complicated wiggles with his fingers, mutters "Parvus" under his breath, and Eddie is suddenly shrouded in a cloud of royal blue energy. The room is suddenly filled with the scent of the ocean, as if Buck has suddenly stepped out onto Santa Monica beach.

When the cloud clears Eddie is nowhere to be seen, and Buck's heart is instantly in his throat.

"Eddie?" he calls out, walking towards the table where his boyfriend had been perched moments earlier. "Eddie are you still here?"

I've fucking disappeared my boyfriend, Buck thinks in a moment's panic. He hadn't read anything in the fine print about performing the spell on performing it on human subjects, and he's also not sure how to control the size of the thing he's transforming. There is a very real possibility that he's shrunk Eddie to the size of a dust mite and will never be able to resize him again.

Why the fuck can't he use his brain before acting??

Just before Buck plummets into a proper panic attack, there's a small movement on the table, just behind the cookbook resting on the edge.

"Buck, what the fuck have you done to me?"

The voice is high pitched and quiet but unmistakably Eddie's, and it takes Buck a second to locate it. But there, dusting himself off and looking decidedly unimpressed, is the smallest Eddie Buck has ever seen in his life. He's about the size of Buck's forefinger and leans against the pages of the cookbook as he glares up at his boyfriend.

"Oh my god, you are so tiny!" Buck grins as he takes in Eddie in all his miniscule glory. "I can't believe that worked!"

Buck reaches out and picks Eddie up, his fingers pinching at the back of Eddie's hoodie, and he drops his boyfriend into the palm of his hand. Eddie wobbles unsteadily before gingerly lowering himself down so he's sitting on the edge of Buck's palm with his legs dangling over the edge, no dissimilar to how he was on the table. He crosses his arms across his chest and glares up at Buck. If he wasn't all of 3 inches tall, it would almost be intimidating

"Put me back," he demands, the authoritativeness of his tone lost entirely by the fact that he sounds like he's swallowed a tank of helium. "Put me back or so help me God-"

"Or what?" Buck giggles, "You'll crawl up my nose?"

"I'll squeeze inside your dickhole and cause permanent damage with my teeth and fists," Eddie counters with a huff.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, babe."

"Buck please, we've got a shift in 3 hours. Make me big again," Eddie pleads, and Buck's completely incapable of defying his boyfriend at the best of times, especially when he's perched perfectly in the palm of Buck's hands, looking so tiny and adorable and pleading silently with his big brown eyes.

Buck sighs and holds his palm adjacent to the table so Eddie can walk across it and take up position next to the cookbook.

"Can I at least try fitting you in my pocket?" he asks, giving Eddie his puppy eyes, but it seems Shrunk Eddie is immune to Buck's charms. He shakes his head vehemently, snapping his fingers so a ball of deep green energy appears in the palm of his hands. The mellow, woodsy scent of pine trees cuts through the saltiness of Buck's magic as Eddie juggles the energy ball between his hands.

"Try it, I dare you."

Knowing when he's beaten, Buck relents with a sigh. Buck may be the one that practices magic the most but Eddie comes from a long line of powerful sorcerers, and Buck has no trouble admitting that Eddie is the more skilled magician of the two of them. If Eddie wanted to, he could turn Buck into a cockroach in a matter of seconds.

"Magnus" he mutters, channelling a fraction of his energy towards Eddie, and there's another cloud of rich blue energy and Eddie reappears.

He shakes out his arms and hops off the table. "You have no idea how weird that was," he grimaces. "You looked like a giant!"

"Don't I always?" Buck teases, referencing his slight height advantage against Eddie which was a slight sore point in their relationship.

Eddie takes two steps forward so they're nose to nose, and is about to open his mouth to scold Buck before a look of surprise passes over his face.

"Huh!" he says, stepping back so he's able to look at Buck properly. A grin begins to spread over his face as he looks Buck up and down. "I think that spell made me taller!"

Buck balks. "Absolutely not, that's not possible," he says, shaking his head. "I'm the tall one!"

Eddie steps back into Buck's space and yep, he's definitely grown an inch or two. They're almost completely at eye level, with Eddie a fraction taller, if anything. Buck gulps. Maybe he shouldn't have played around with magic.

"No, baby, you're definitely shorter than me no," he grins, and he tilts Buck's chin up (up!!!) to kiss him. It's soft and sweet, their lips moving in tandem. Eddie's smiling into the kiss and Buck can feel the smugness radiating off him.

"I'll just have to shrink you again," he points out as they break apart, but Eddie merely grins and kisses Buck on the forehead.

"I'd like to see you try."

Send me a ship and a sentence and I'll finish it!!

#james answers things #james writes #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 buddie #911 fanfic #911 #eddie x buck #911 ficlet #magic!buck #magic!eddie #shrunk!eddie

[choicesficwriterscreations]

Just shy of three years ago, I happily stepped in to help when @choicesficwriterscreations needed assistance with CFWC Fics of the Week. Shortly thereafter, the blog's original creator, @loricreates, was ready to step down, and along with @lucy-268 I was honored to take over and continue the great work Lori had started.

The CFWC archive provides an invaluable service to our fandom, but it was always so much more to me. It's a place where people connect, friendships are fostered, and our incredibly talented creators have a chance to be seen and appreciated.

It has been my pleasure to serve as CFWC's mod, and I'm very proud of the contributions I have made during that time. But it's also a lot of work, and lately, it was beginning to feel like a chore. That's when I knew it was time to say goodbye. I'm not going far; I'll still be in the fandom. I may even show up here to help host a special event or two in the future, but for now, I want to spend my time concentrating on other things, both in and outside of the fandom. That includes my writing, catching up on reading, and supporting each of you.

I want to thank @lorircreates, CFWC's founder, for her vision, for creating this space, and for entrusting it to me. It was an honor to take the reins from you, and I hope we've done your "baby" proud.

I want to thank @lucy-268, who was a dream co-moderator. We sure had a lot of good (and crazy) times running the blog together. I'm so glad this fandom brought us together... and we'll stay that way long after this fandom is gone. 💙

I'd like to thank @liaromancewriter, who has graciously offered to take over so that CFWC can continue. Please join me in welcoming Mal as the blog's new moderator! It makes me feel much better knowing I'm leaving CFWC in your hands!

Most of all, I want to thank all of you. Each and every one of you has made our fandom what it is. The creators who make us laugh, cry, and feel things we never expected to feel. The readers and art fans who have encouraged everyone along the way. Everyone who has ever "geeked out" over a beloved story, character, or OC together. Through CFWC, I've gotten to know many of you better, and that has been the best part of the time I've spent here.

So this is my final CFWC post... one last time! :) I can't wait to see what the future brings! 😘

#choices fic writers creations #cfwc #playchoices #choices the stories you play #you're all invited to the retirement party lol 😜 #goodbye

[sciderman]

ARE WE AFFIRMING YOUR GENDER?! IS THAT WHAT WE’RE DOING?!

Sci, first of all, I’m so sorry your dad said that listing your pronouns is embarrassing. It’s 2024. What’s embarrassing is being a parent who cares more about what other people think of them than what their child thinks of them. People don’t have to understand you, they don’t even have to agree with you, but if someone says they love you, the least they can do is make the attempt to show you they respect your identity as an individual person. I know this is particularly difficult for parents sometimes but it’s not impossible. I sincerely hope that someday your dad realizes how spectacular you are and how lucky he is to have the opportunity of knowing and loving someone as truly kind, funny, and generous as you are.

Second of all, LET’S GIVE ANOTHER SHOUT OUT TO THOSE PRONOUNS. Oooo I like the way you wear he/him. It’s loud, it’s rebellious, it’s confident, it’s authentic! It’s everything those angry white boys with podcasts WISH they were! You are entering your “boys will be boys” era and it’s covered in bright colors, zany patterns, sequins, and ATTITUDE.

I am so fucking proud of you for taking this big scary step into being your true self and laying it bare before the world. Just last night I was thinking about how one of the reasons I was so miserable in my 20s was because when I was around 21/22 I went back into the closet to make myself “more palatable” for the people around me. Less confusing for them. Less work for them. And I’ll never actually know what experiences I lost when I lost myself. I’ll never know what I could have done, the opportunities and stories and memories I missed out on because I was only living as half a person. I’m back on track now though, and the good news for you is: now that you’ve taken this step you never have to ask that question again.

I’ve gotta say, Sci, announcing your true pronouns is definitely one of the sexiest things you could ever do. And Wade agrees. <3

hooougghh bless you @nobutforrealthough - you're so cool and sexy and ough...

i feel so very exhausted in the head lately about identity things. i think a lot of people thought i was some kind of gender icon when really i'm just piecing things together as best as i can. i feel a little exhausted that people thought so much of me and i'm not delivering on it. (but i've felt that way all the time, all my life, from pretty much everybody.)

i guess it's difficult to do all this alone, without anyone in your corner. i think writing wade and peter, they sort of felt like friends to help me through it, because i don't really have anyone else out there to help me through and speak to me on my level. so – i kind of had to invent voices to give me courage. and it helps. but i worry that it's a little sad, too. sorry. i'm feeling very frank and bare this morning.

it's a lonely old world when you still haven't figured out where you fit in it. and maybe you're not meant to fit. but you kind of do need to fit, for your sanity. for your survival. so you contort and compromise and squeeze yourself into weird shapes and bug your head. and it's all so, so exhausting for me. and i think my body's finally telling me it's time to retire. my body is so, so tired...

#sci speaks #i want to be loved for me. #not for who i can pretend to be. #not for what i can “pull off”. #i want sad little lazy tired me to be treasured too. for being weak. for being lazy. for just wanting to sit around in my undies and cry. #tired of having to be a hero . for having to be an example . for having to put on a good show #ohhgh i'm so tired... #i love sad little lazy me. i love when i love sad little lazy me. sad little lazy me deserves to be loved #just as much as restless gender icon me #sighs. i wish you guys really Knew me. not just all of this text on the internet.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I've been obsessed with @demon-of-the-ancient-world's post about Paul bandaging his own wounds after the duel with Feyd ever since I saw it. Partially because I am pretty sure he would not be physically able to do it, but he sure would try. So have a little thing.

Eventually, he is able to stop giving orders and having them fervently obeyed long enough to limp over to the hallway leading out of the war room. With every step, he is figuring out how to better hide the limp. His side still fucking hurts.

Close to the relief of the cool dark hallway, he spots a familiar face. Mari, the medic from his old band of fedaykin. Her gaze falters as he approaches.

"Bandages," he requests. At least his voice is still coming out steady.

She fishes in her pack and pulls out a roll. Holds it out to him like an offering, her fingers retreating as soon as he takes it.

She'd once held him down with a knee on his back while she pulled a piece of shrapnel out of his shoulder. Now she is afraid to touch him.

"More," he rasps.

She produces another roll. That should be enough.

There's a little anteroom just off the main chamber. A few Fremen trail after him as he heads there.

"Guard the door," he says to no one in particular. "No one enters." He shuts them all out.

He doesn't remember what this room was used for, in the brief time that he had lived here. It's empty now, save for a stone platform that runs along one wall at waist height. He drops the rolls of bandages on the platform and sags against it.

As soon as he lets the control slip, a wave of nausea washes over him. His head is pounding, blood drying tacky and itchy on his face, and with every breath it feels like both knives are still inside him.

Focus. He hears it in his mother's voice. She taught him this, how to reach inside himself and master pain. Attention stretching inward, finding the nerve endings that are screaming and shutting them down. He'd practiced with an embroidery needle pricking his finger. This is a bit more than that.

He concentrates until everything still hurts, but not so much that he's going to pass out. Probably. Then he starts working the fastenings of his stillsuit loose.

He gets the shoulder straps released and the moisture seal broken at the main seam, but then he's stuck. Pulling the suit off his left shoulder requires raising his right arm, and that comes with a spike of pain and an abrupt tilt of the floor underneath him. He grabs the edge of the platform and has to spend some more time working on not passing out. Starting with his right shoulder proves no better; twisting his torso in that direction makes his vision gray at the edges.

He's leaning heavily against the stone platform trying to figure out what to do when there's a commotion at the door. He hauls himself into standing up straight just as a young man, wide-eyed and with blood all down the front of his stillsuit, gets shoved into the room. "Forgive me, Lisan al-Gaib," the man says. "The scarfless warmaster insists on entering."

It takes him a minute to realize who he is talking about. "Let him in."

The man retreats, and Gurney steps into the room. "My lord." His gaze takes in the bandages, the pathetic progress he's made on removing his stillsuit. He closes the door behind him. "If I may."

Paul nods.

As soon as Gurney peels the stillsuit back from his injured shoulder, he realizes he never could've done it alone. It's a two-handed job, easing his arm out of the garment, and he needs his one free hand to bite down on to keep from making noise.

Gurney helps him slide the suit down to his waist. His torso is painted with blood but there's nothing to clean it with now. Best to focus on keeping any more from coming out.

Together they bandage his side, then his shoulder. Gurney's hands are not unkind but they are pragmatic, efficient, not flinching away from his wounds but not lingering either. There is no talking save Paul telling him to wrap the bandage tighter.

He remembers a time, long ago. Sitting on a storage chest in the staging room of the parade grounds below Castle Caladan, watching Gurney help his father put his armor on.

There had been a surrender--of whom, he can't remember. He could not have been more than five or six at the time. Generals of the army they'd just defeated coming to sign the armistice agreement, but with enough resentment about it that everyone was nervous, and his father was wearing armor to declare peace.

There had been no talking then, either. Just Gurney moving practically around his father, an extra pair of hands for pauldrons and breastplate and greaves, while his father practiced the speech he was going to give under his breath, making subtle adjustments to tone and emphasis along the way. He doesn't remember the speech, only the feeling, Gurney preparing his father's body while his father prepared himself in other ways.

That is what is happening now.

Once they get his shoulder wrapped as tight as they can, Gurney helps him ease the stillsuit back on. Gurney still needs some direction to get it laced properly, the Fremen way, but having another pair of hands to pull the straps tight over his shoulders means he only has to grit his teeth, not spend time waiting for the room for stop spinning.

He takes a few test steps across the room. The bandage around his ribs restricts his breathing a little, but it makes walking slightly less painful. That will do.

He pulls himself up to his full height, straight-backed, head held high. The posture of an emperor. Ready for battle.

#dune #dune part two #paul atreides #whump #tumblr fic

[televised-uhhh-nerdistry]

Cartoon rec of the week:

Craig of the Creek

I haven't seen enough people talking about the show, so I'm mentioning it here. Absolute 10/10 cartoon. Just three kids, running 'round, making friends, running their own semi-sustainable community in the forest (there are some concerns about how much trash they leave there but ultimately they're better than most adults). Literally such a dream. they encourage each other to be emotionally healthy and they protect each other from "danger". Like they'll help each other achieve their dreams as they come (and new dreams show up pretty often because they're young kids).

And they're so funny! Like genuinely these kids are so earnest and intelligent and incredibly humorous and full of heart! They have full lives and they live them to the fullest out in nature after school, on the weekends, and in the summer. It's one of the best representations of found family I have ever seen in a cartoon, and I absolutely love it.

Also several of the writers behind the show are POC and queer (I think the head writers are all Black but I could be wrong), so you know that it was written well and the representation is awesome like I know that it should absolutely go without saying, but representation is much more than just showing BIPOC people on screen, and in terms of cartoons I haven't seen that many shows understanding that fact except maybe the Proud Family, Fat Albert, and a few others whose names will return to me once I've taken my ADHD meds. But the point is that Craig of the Creek gets it right. Most of the characters throughout the show (from what I've seen) are BIPOC, and you can tell that there are caring nods to BIPOC communities (primarily Black American communities), and more than that, that the writers know what they're talking about and are deeply familiar with and are a part of those communities. Craig, the titular character, is a young Black boy, and his family are middle class and ultimately very successful Black people. Kelsey (one of the main characters) is Jewish and Polish, and written with more complexity than having a one and done Hanukah celebration. The Creek's main business, a trading post, is run by Kit, a young Black girl with a love for economy and business. And many other characters are racial or ethnic minorities as well, and it warms my heart to see these characters done justice time and time again.

There's great subtle queer rep too, and you can tell it wasn't written just for the sake of representation, like it was thought out and intentional, and it worked beautifully. There are queer witches, and there are no labels applied to them, they're just allowed to exist with no explanations, happily in love with one another. There's a non-binary character later in the series (I'm only like 10 episodes in so I haven't met them yet but I've read amazing things about them). Kelsey also apparently identifies as a lesbian later in the series (I say "apparently" because I haven't done much reading so as to avoid spoilers, not because I am discounting her identity). On top of that, JP (one of the main characters) has a sister who is dating another girl.

There's also a significant amount of body positivity in the show, at least far than I've seen elsewhere. Not only do they openly say "all bodies are beautiful" and follow up on that by defending one another, there's also very little need to defend one another, because there's a very unspoken and deep respect in the Creek for things like body type, skin colour, disabilities, and so on. The kids of the creek, and their grown ups, are all different body types, and given their penchant for community and uplifting one another, it's no wonder they all seem confident in their bodies.

Not to mention the disability representation. There is a character later on in the series who is Black and deaf, and he not only speaks in Sign Language, but in Black American Sign Language. In addition, though unconfirmed, many of the kids in the creek embody aspects of various neurotypes. For example, the three main characters, Craig, Kelsey, and JP all come across as neurodivergent, with special interests, neurodivergent ways of thinking, and so on. Some have speculated that JP has Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which is a disability often comorbid with ADHD. Not to mention that all the kids in the creek embody different special interests, most of which would be considered weird or frowned upon in everyday society, but that are given the opportunity to shine and flourish in the Creek's accepting culture.

Take the Horse Girls for example, a small clique of girls who roleplay as horses in a pasture near the Creek, and of course many of their behaviours are played as jokes, but ultimately they are accepted and involved in many adventures because of their unique interests and abilities which are ultimately how they aid the rest of the Creek. Every kid is a useful and accepted part of the Creek, with the exception of the ranger scout kids, who are essentially the same as cops, who are often exploitative, rude, and disruptive to the community as a whole.

Ultimately, the show is one of love, friendship, community, and acknowledging differences as a natural and helpful part of life. On top of that, it's not copaganda! What more could you want?

#craig of the creek #cartoon #cartoon recommendations #the creek #cartoon network #animation #animated show #kids show #kids cartoon #so cute #television #just like i drew it #cartoon network show #cartoon network shows #cartoon network studios #nature #sustainability #friendship #found family #perfection #representation #copaganda #diversity #inclusion #equity #diversity in media

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Emily x Reader after Reader has a sh relapse, Emily patches and her up and assures her she's still beautiful by slow, gentle, loving sex and lots of cuddling please?

You got it, anon! Thanks for the request! :) Hope you like it!

Burning

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, self-harm, depression, mental illness, sex, fingering, etc., injuries due to self-harm, brief mentions of an eating disorder, some explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: With Emily away on a case and a depressive episode hitting you hard, you fall back into a pattern you thought you'd kicked a long time ago. When she comes home and discovers what you've done, you're afraid it'll be too much for her. Emily does her best to show you that it's not.

You’d been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for what felt like hours, but was probably mere minutes. Time warped itself when the urges took hold, every second a lifetime of effort, until it became all the potential lives you might live stacked one on top of the other, and they were too heavy for you to carry.

The hand that held the unlit match was shaking, and you seesawed between the unbearable desire to scratch a painful itch and the knowledge that self-hatred that would flood you afterward. But at least the self-hatred and the pain would be something to feel, other than the abject hopelessness that had seemed to swallow you up over the last week.

You’d known a depressive episode was coming before Emily left. You could always feel them coming. But what were you supposed to say? Don’t go save people from a terrorist cell? Stay here with me because I’m scared I’m getting depressed and I need you? It’d be pathetic. You were pathetic. And it wasn’t Emily’s job to keep your mental illness at bay.

But she’d been gone longer than you expected–over a week now. And your depressive episode had hit you harder than you thought it would. You’d called out of work, you’d binged on food delivery, then hated yourself afterward, staring into the mirror feeling lower and lower and lower. Until the only way you could think to stop sinking was to shock yourself out of it.

You knew it wasn’t wise or healthy. You knew you’d feel even worse once the pain subsided. You knew that a relapse would make it that much harder to stop next time. You knew that if Emily was here, she would stop you, she would hide the matches and the lighters, she would be so, so sad that you’d even thought about hurting yourself.

But despite knowing all these things, the hunger for fire, for pain, was too much to resist. You scratched the head of the match against the matchbox and the flame leapt into existence. Your go-to spot in young adulthood had been your arms, but the burns wouldn't fade before Emily got back, and she’d notice them on your arms. This time, you held the match to the upper side of your abdomen, where your arms would hopefully hide the marks.

You scrunched your eyebrows and winced as the flame licked at your skin, the pain white and bright and hot. You wished you could explain to people that odd, addictive mixture of self-loathing and dopamine that hit you and made you feel simultaneously worse and better. You wished people understood the desire for it, that sometimes you wanted to feel worse because feeling worse made you feel better. But it was hard to explain. Even harder to understand. So you didn’t bother most of the time. You lit match after match until the box was empty, until your side was scattered with raised, red-white blotches, like a constellation of all the shitty things you’d ever been through or felt.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and hated what you saw. And it felt good to hate yourself, like a guilty pleasure.

You jumped at the sound of the apartment door opening and closing, and cold panic flooded your system.

“Hey, baby, I’m home!” Emily called from the entryway.

You quickly pulled a loose t-shirt over your head, wincing as the fabric brushed over the burns. She wasn’t supposed to be home yet. She hadn’t texted or called. She’ll hate me, you thought. She’ll hate me if she finds out.

Of course, Emily knew you struggled with self-harm. But you’d been in a really good spot when you’d started dating and had, for the most part, stayed in that really good spot for your entire relationship. You were in therapy. You had healthy coping mechanisms. You hadn’t relapsed in years. You didn’t know what had made today different from every other bad day in the last few years, but you knew you didn’t want Emily to know.

You silently cursed yourself for using all the matches; there were none left to light a candle in the bathroom to mask the scent of burning. You ran to meet her in the living room, hoping that by heading her off, the smell would have time to dissipate.

“Hi, honey,” you greeted her, forcing a smile. You took both her hands in yours to try and prevent her touching your side, which still felt as if it was on fire. You stood on tiptoes to kiss her, and she smiled, leaning in.

“I missed you,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around you. You flinched and inhaled sharply as her fingers grazed the burns.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, avoiding her eyes. “I just, um… fell earlier.”

Her hands fluttered over you, a worried expression on her face. “You fell!? Where!? Like, how hard?”

“Not that hard,” you said, trying to squirm away. “It doesn’t hurt too bad. Ow!” Emily had placed a gentle hand at your side and you couldn’t help your outburst.

“Well, honey, if it hurts that bad, you need to let me see it. We might need to go to the ER or something.”

You knew you were done for when she grabbed your wrist, hard. Emily was much stronger than you, so instead of fighting, you went numb.

You felt your whole world stop as she lifted up your shirt to see the scattered burns. You felt tears prick at your eyes. There were too many marks, and they were too symmetrical to have been an accident. You knew it, and Emily knew it, too.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, but if you did, you would have seen that her eyes were wet with tears she wasn’t going to let herself cry because you needed someone strong right now. If you’d looked at her, you would have seen a mixture of sadness and pity and heartbreak and undying love. You’d have seen the face of someone who wanted nothing more than for you to be okay.

“Y/N,” Emily managed after a moment. “Did you do this to yourself?”

You nodded, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Today?”

You nodded again.

“How long ago?”

You looked at the ceiling, willing yourself not to cry. “Right before you walked in.”

You hated yourself. You hated yourself even more because you knew that Emily would feel awful. She’d think that if she’d just been a few minutes earlier, she could have prevented this. And you never wanted Emily to feel like your mental illness was her fault or her responsibility.

“Come here,” she said, gently taking your hand and guiding you to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, making sure the water was cool but not cold, then slowly pulled your clothes off. She nodded toward the shower and you got in, shivering under the chilly stream.

Emily sighed and sat down on the toilet lid, watching you. She looked tired, so tired. You hated to be another thing that exhausted her, another thing she had to take care of and fix.

“You should sit down,” she added quietly. “You’re gonna have to be in there for a while. Until they stop burning.”

You sat on the tiled floor, the water leaching the pain away from the burn marks, leaving only disgust and self-loathing in their place. You pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face, trying and failing not to cry.

Your shoulders shook with the force of your sobs. You heard Emily stand and were sure she was going to leave. Why wouldn’t she? She deserved to. She deserved not to have to deal with you.

You jumped a little as Emily lowered herself into the shower next to you, clothes abandoned on the bathroom floor, and wrapped her arm around your shoulder. She pressed her face into yours as the shower drenched you both.

“Shh,” she soothed, careful to avoid your burns. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry, Em,” you wept, rocking. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she repeated. “You don’t need to be sorry. I love you. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I hate myself,” you whispered.

Emily gently grabbed your face and tilted it toward her. There were tears in her eyes, too. “Baby, please don’t say that.”

“I can’t help it.” Your voice was so quiet, so small, the sound of the shower almost drowned it out.

“That’s okay,” Emily said, brushing strands of wet hair out of your face. “We’re gonna get you some help, okay?”

You looked in her eyes then for the first time since she’d discovered the burn marks. You didn’t know what you’d expected to see: annoyance, disgust, hatred, or worst of all, ambivalence. But there was none of that in Emily’s eyes. Only love and concern.

Even so, you were scared to ask what you needed to ask. “Do you still love me?”

“Oh, honey, of course I do. I could never stop loving you.”

And then you kissed her. You kissed her with the cool water pouring down around your bodies. With your skin hot from the burns and from your aching love for Emily. You kissed her desperately, hungrily, like someone clinging to a lifeboat, and Emily was. She was your lifeboat. And for Emily’s part, she was gentle, almost too gentle, as if you might break at any moment.

You wrapped your legs and arms around her and she held you so carefully, so mindful of your burns. You shuddered in the cool water as your hips pushed against her.

Emily moaned into your mouth, her hands faltering for a moment.

“Y/N,” she said breathlessly, pulling away to hold your face in her hands. “We don’t have to do this." She looked at you a moment longer, then added, "I love you.”

You kissed her again. Her mouth. Her forehead. Her collarbone. Emily’s chest heaved into you and your heart beat rapidly.

“Please,” you begged. “Show me.”

Emily pulled you into her, letting her tongue and her lips roam over your neck, letting her hips meet yours as the water surrounded you, soothing your burns the way Emily soothed the roiling, burning despair inside of you.

“I love you,” she whispered as she kissed your eyelids. “I love you,” she whispered as she pressed her hands into the soft flesh of your ass. “I love you,” she whispered as she slipped her fingers inside of you. You bit back a moan and trembled against her, your body pulsing around her.

She fucked you slowly, tenderly, as if it was both your first time and your last, though this was neither. And she kept saying it–“I love you”–again and again, never stopping, so that all the darkness in your mind, all the self-doubt, didn’t have any room to make itself heard.

You let out a strangled groan as your body tensed around her, and when your pleasure flooded you, it was like you were on fire. And this fire was so much better, louder, brighter, than any flame you’d ever held to your body. It was a burning that consumed you, one that would leave you new and glistening afterward instead of scarred and in ashes.

You fell limp against her as she removed her fingers, kissing your forehead, your collarbone, your mouth, swirling her tongue with yours until you felt drunk on her. “I love you,” she said, and you didn’t think you’d ever get tired of hearing it. “I love you.”

You were quiet as she turned off the shower head. Quiet as you both dried off, as Emily gently pressed a towel to your side, making sure your burns were clean and dry. She sat you on the toilet lid as she pulled gauze squares and antibacterial ointment out of the bathroom cabinet, spreading the ointment on the gauze, then pressing it gently to your skin.

“Lift your arms up,” she said quietly, as she circled your body with bandages, wrapping it just tight enough that it wouldn’t shift in the night.

She knelt down in front of you and caressed your face. “Bed?” she asked. You nodded.

“You go ahead,” she said, patting your leg. “I’ll be right there.”

You felt self-doubt start creeping back in as you laid in bed on top of the covers, your burns still too hot to sleep underneath. When Emily came into the room, she carried a glass of water and a bottle of pills.

“Take these,” she told you, handing you a few. You drank and swallowed obediently.

She lay down in the bed and motioned you over. “Come here and let me hold you.”

You rested your face in the crook of her neck, and she played with your hair, careful to avoid your burns.

“I love you,” she whispered after a few minutes, kissing the top of your head.

“You said.” You meant it to be funny, but your heart wasn’t in it. Not yet.

“And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.”

You were quiet for a minute, then spoke. “I love you, too, Em.” You nuzzled your way closer to her, hoping against hope that her arms around you were enough to keep the darkness and the numbness away for the night.,

And as you drifted off, she kept saying it–“I love you.” And then a kiss on your head.

As your eyelids fluttered closed–“I love you.” And she pressed her face to your forehead.

As your breath slowed and evened, and your body went limp–“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss drabble #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #hurt/comfort #self h@rm

[tipsyleaf]

I think I genuinely found the perfect song for Leon and his wife as like "their song".

(Yes ik it's the song from Twilight but it's fitting!!!)

Now, when I think about them getting married I don't think they did a big wedding. They got married on a whim because Leon had vacation time coming up. They got married by a justice of the peace at a courthouse in front of everyone they cared about and rented a party room at a nice restaurant they really love just to have a good meal and be with everyone who matters.

They didn't have a cake, no flower toss, no first dance. But you did get to dress up, everyone did. Just shared their happiness with everyone. You had a honeymoon for sure though. 2 blissful weeks in Italy together, the vacation they'd planned on taking together. Just to have a romantic get away.

You promised each other that you'd do something special for your first anniversary but you got pregnant and Violet was barely 3 months old on your wedding anniversary that the thought slipped both your minds.

But one afternoon Leon's heading home from a particularly grueling case. Everything that could have gone wrong almost did. And of course he's sitting in traffic when all he wants is to go home an see his wife and daughter. The only thing sounds are the engine and occasional honks from idiot drivers. So he turns on the radio to fill the silence. He catches the ending of some other song. The radio dj coming on and talking for a bit, he reaches for the dial when piano keys fill the car. He just goes back to waiting, sitting back in his seat as he does so.

And my God does he get emotional... He doesn't know if it's the stress he's under or if it's that he can't stop thinking about how relevant everything feels.

He knows his life is hard, It's been hard since that night in Raccoon City and everything that's happened to him. All the people he's seen suffer and the awful things he's seen. But once he met you he finally had something good. Something that gave him hope.

His life changed so much in the past 5 years of being together. You loved him. You married him. You gave him the family he's always wanted and his life is barely over a quarter of the way through. He gets to come home to you and the beautiful baby girl he loves so much.

How could he not finally be thankful for being alive?

Because he gets to live not to just be a weapon anymore. He's got something to look forward to.

Your anniversary rolls around. It's almost midnight and you're prepping your lunch for the next day at work. As Leon walks into the kitchen. Doing his usual schtick of wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. Giving you the usual kisses with a tight squeeze so you can't escape his love as you squeal for mercy. He eventually stops his torturing affection and looks at the stove clock as you zip you're lunchbox closed.

Soon you're lifted from the floor being carried by the waist out of the kitchen.

"Leon! I'm not done yet!"

"It's our anniversary now so I get to do what I please."

"That's not how this works!"

He sets you on the floor, standing as you playfully glare at him. He hustles over to the stereo, plugging his phone in and turning it up, not loud enough to wake the baby.

"What're you doing?" You question, hearing the piano fill the living room as he hustles around the couch.

"What we should of done last year. Our first dance. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

"Leon, we've danced since we got married."

"Yes, but we never picked a song! So just, dance with me and listen. Please? Pleeeease?" He bounces on place till you sigh and wrap your arms around him.

You just stare into each other's eyes while you slow dance. Swaying gently to the music as you listen. Both of you getting emotional by the end of the song. Tears streaming down both your faces. Still smiling as you hug him tight.

"Being with you was one of the best choices I've ever made. I love you so much."

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy #🌿 ivy writes #resident evil x reader #🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy #Spotify

[azrielgreen]

I am genuinely so impressed by how you are juggling so many projects. What is your writing process like for that? I remember you sharing about how you romanticize the process but like how much time is given to each project? Is it based on where the dopamine leads you during the day? How do you maintain the discipline? How much of a project is mapped before you start drafting and editing? It is so hard to create and i just *genuinely* admire your work ethic so much.

Hi, oh thank you so much, that's really kind of you! So, juggling multiple projects is still new to me, I've only ever had 1 or 2 at once before but the last year has taught me a LOT about how to manage it, how to roll with the punches and the importance of balance.

TL;DR this became a ramble so I summarised:

3 hours a day

dopamine led but with consistent rewards in place

discipline countered with indulgent self care

embracing change and new inspiration

not comparing to others

making work space very pleasing and comfortable

trust you will do it because you've done it before

romanticise

stay open to the universe

you've never failed unless you give up completely - it's fine to miss a deadline, life is very short and it's better to be healthy, happy and inspired than burnt out and sick. take it slow, enjoy it, work when you can and reward yourself CONSTANTLY.

So, time wise, I will try to dedicate at least 3 hours a day to one single project and I'll try to keep it one project per week otherwise my head is all over the place. It's usually dopamine led as following joy is key to my energy levels, but I have also learnt the past year to discipline myself and adapt to a constant flow of creation.

I maintain the discipline by treating myself as wonderfully as I possibly can. I still and always will romanticise everything I do and make it fun; all frills, self indulgent and lovely. Having a space I love that's set up well is hugely important for me. My desk area is amazing now that I've worked on it for well over a year.

One of the best things for crafting discipline but not losing the joy is the THRILL of achievement. When I complete something, i feel amazing and that spurs me on. I cultivate multiple ideas as indulgently as I can and expose myself to a lot of new inspiration. If something doesn't work or feels not good? I give myself the freedom to change it up and the confidence to know that no matter what, it'll work out beautifully so long as I keep going because it always has. There were times during Touched I would CRY it was so hard to write and I was so distracted.

Knowing you can do something because you've already done it is an incredibly powerful little power up that I use often to give myself a boost.

But honestly, overall, I really do romanticise my life in general. I make beautiful things, I love what I write, I'm so grateful for everything and always open to new ideas and I never close myself off by comparing, doubting or clinging too hard to what felt good before. I give myself space to realise that I'm constantly changing and growing and that my writing reflects that which is SO exciting!! I think honestly, I'm my biggest fan. I hype myself, reward myself and treat writing like a blissful escape, which it is, even when it's 7 hours non-stop for a story I am very ready to be done with.

The most important thing about maintaining this level of output (for me) is giving myself space to mess up a little, to miss a deadline, to delay posting and not feel awful. 'You're Divine' is one of the greatest writing lessons I've ever learned, in that just because you can physically write 25k+ a week doesn't mean you SHOULD. Towards the end I had made myself very ill. I won't ever do that again. It's never a failure, unless you give up completely. Life is very short, it's difficult to feel inspired when you're hard on yourself. Treat yourself like the person you love most in this world. Be a little selfish, lean in where you're weird and praise it to the skies.

Thanks so much again!

Love, Az

💜💜💜

#askaz

[sleepingdeath-light]

minthara smut hcs ; 18+

requested by ; disney anon (02/12/23)

fandom(s) ; baldur’s gate 3

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; minthara

outline ; “I've been summoned by your BG3 request call 🫡 Can you please do some Minthara x reader relationship and smut headcanons?”

warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, strict dominant!minthara, sadist!minthara, submissive!reader, masochist!reader, bondage, marking kink, pet name kink (mistress), edging, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms, use of sex toys (strap on)

note ; as i’ve never written for minthara until now, her characterisation may be a tad shaky here/worth a future rework lol ^^

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

first things first, but minthara is a strictly dominant person so there’s less than zero chance of you ever getting her to hand over control to you (not even as a type of roleplay) — and not only is she strictly dominant, she’s also a very strict dominant who isn’t afraid to punish you for acting out of line and/or being a brat

though there are occasions where she can appreciate the opportunity to fight you for the right to dominate you — she fell for your strength and capability in battle, after all, so the occasional chance to experience that side of you again is certainly welcome (… so long as you clear it with her first, otherwise she may just see it as you actually being a brat and will punish you accordingly)

she has very specific expectations of you once you two start incorporating a formal dynamic into your bedroom, which includes everything from establishing a thorough and methodical aftercare routine to discussing how she ought to punish you for breaking the rules — each rule has its own sort of punishment, of course, and she’s very particular about having each punishment be suited to the offence committed (e.g. minor infractions and slip ups are met with softer punishments whereas majorly bratting out will have you bent over her knee and punished immediately), and she always makes a point to have you state your ‘crime’ and it’s set punishment in full before moving on to actually punishing you (this is partially to humiliate you and remind you of your place, but it’s also her own way of making sure you understand what’s being done and don’t think you’re being hurt without reason — she may be a sadist, but she’s not that cruel… not with you, anyway)

due to the above mentioned discussions, minthara absolutely excels when it comes to aftercare — loving you and being gentle with you may not come easily to her given her background, but she nevertheless does whatever she can to ensure you’re well taken care of to the best of her abilities: washing you by hand, bringing you filling foods to eat, fetching water, and talking through what happened to ensure she didn’t go too far and that you did actually enjoy yourself no matter how taxing the session was on you

of course she makes a habit of altering/adjusting her punishments based on your limits and boundaries, but if you have no objections to them then her default punishment for severe infractions is as follows: minthara restraining you so professionally and tightly that you can barely move at all, her using her hands and/or strap-on to bring you to the brink of climax and either pulling away entirely to edge you or giving you a completely ruined orgasm, her not stopping until you’re weeping through your words as you beg her to please let you cum/finish properly and promise her to be good, and her finally giving in to your pleas once she’s decided you’ve earned it (or not giving in at all if you were especially bad or bratty beforehand)

as mentioned above, minthara is extremely proficient when it comes to bondage and is more than happy to show off her talents whenever the occasion arises — whether you want something minimal but practical, something to suspend you, or something with a little more flare to keep you in place as she ruins you, she’s more than capable of adapting her style to suit each of your needs and wants in the bedroom

because of how intense sex and foreplay with her can get, she makes sure that you remember every established safe word and action before you two actually do anything — actions in case you’re gagged or too overwhelmed to speak, milder safe words in case you need a break but don’t actually want to stop, fake safe words if you’re participating in a sort of primal play, and an actual safe word if you want her to stop

once you two are in an intimate situation you’re expected to address her as ‘mistress’ lest she have to punish you for your defiance — she may be swayed to let you call her something like ‘mommy’ (or ‘mummy’ depending on your preference) if it’s something that you’re really into and if you’ve been good enough to earn a reward, but her preference will always be towards ‘mistress’

she has a big thing for marking you as hers and will do so however you allow her — whether that means going out of her way to buy you a formal collar once you’re committed to each other, or settling for something a little more primal (welts on your ass/thighs/chest from impact play, bite marks on your neck/chest/stomach, bruises on your hips/thighs/wrists [if bruises show up on you], having you wear something of hers that will fit you, etc.)

(in other words; minthara doesn’t like sharing and makes it clear as soon as possible that you’re hers to use and that others ought to steer clear if they know what’s good for them)

she loves it when you’re vocal and will (lightly) punish you for trying to stay quiet without her explicit permission to do so — whether you lean towards being more quiet (whimpers, panting, whispers), or are much louder in bed (moaning, groaning, crying out), minthara loves it all the same because it lets her know that she’s the only one that is making you be that vocal and she isn’t shy about how much that fact inflates her ego

for her own part minthara is never particularly loud but she is very vocal, making sure to narrate everything she’s doing as she does it (or even just before if you’re blindfolded) and that you’re aware of exactly what she thinks of your current state — sometimes that means straight-faced comments about how obviously aroused you are and how it’s clear you’re enjoying yourself, other times her commentary leans towards being more humiliating/degrading/derogatory, occasionally she’ll slip into her native elvish dialect and you won’t be able to tell what’s actually being said beyond general assumptions based on her actions and her tone, and other times it’s a mixture of the two

very rarely will she outright praise you — only when you’re being exceptionally well behaved/good for her or when it’s clear you’re in dire need of encouragement because of something like sub-drop (it’s just… not in her nature to praise you needlessly, so give her some leniency here)

is definitely appreciative of you making an effort to dress up for her, but she has a strong preference for seeing you in leathers over some impractical frilly number — she can appreciate the intricacy of certain lingerie designs, she’s not oblivious after all, but that doesn’t change her thoughts on the matter

#sleepingdeath #disney anon #gender neutral reader #bg3 smut #minthara smut #baldur’s gate 3 smut #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #minthara x reader #smut #smut hcs #minors dni #minors will be blocked #ageless blogs dni #ageless blogs will be blocked

[fudanshidoublevision]

Happy Birthday Ray!!!!!!!!!!! ヾ(〃^∇^)ﾉ

I feel so silly and happy to celebrate a fictional character birthday, lol. It's so funny! I love Binary Star Hero and every single character from this game, silly things like these are the best.

Irrelevant yapping down this road ➷

I made some 「プリクラ」 (purikura) for his birthday because I had another ideas I can't and wouldn't be able to finish for this time being, I hope you like it because I kind of hate it. It's not what I envisioned... It's been YEARS since I've ever tried to make some purikura. I've done my best but i know I can do better. This one seemed easy and I had lots of fun, i have the feeling that he would find this type of stuff concerning and at the same time....amusing. Nonetheless, i think he'll like.

The Molcar Binary Star was made by my dear and beloved friend @/blood-and-mud. (Sorry bestie, I'll take this down if you want me to 😌.) Also, my PFP was made by her too!!!! Since it's Ray Day, I'll have this PFP on until the end of the day.

Ah, I hate that the quality of the picture, it looks terrible now. I had to make a whole ass account on “act illust” to download the image for the background for it to not be seen.......... At all.

NONE of the art is mine except the MII Ray, I made that one.

This year I have something brewing for Double's birthday. 😈

#binary star hero #bshvn #bsh #bsh ray #binary star hero ray #happy birthday