#I really need to cut my grandma out of my life

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You gnaw on your cheek as you read over the letter. Final warning. You really didn't think much of the first five but that word catches your worry; litigation.   

Your mother grunts and clicks her pen, dropping it as she curses under her breath. She tosses the crossword book away from the chair. For all your life, you remember her working on her puzzles. Now, she can hardly hold pen steady enough to put in a single clue.  

"Mom, you want another coke before I head out?" You ask.  

"Where are you 'headed out' to?" She scowls.  

"Just outside. Try to figure out the mower."  

"Piece of shit," she sneers and for a moment, you're not sure if she means the machine or you.  

"So..."  

"Just go," she snips.  

You purse your lips around the cut of her tone. You leave her in her recliner and you go down the hallway to the back door. You shove your feet into your stained vans and let yourself gently outside.  

You come down the steps and cross the overgrown grass to the garage. You prop the door open with an old paint can and drag put the mower. You haul it over to the little patch of pavement by the house as the sunlight raises beads of sweat across your forehead.  

You shade your eyes and squint. You don't get the thing. It's not even motorized, it just started catching. You can't push it hard enough to make it go. It only bounces uselessly across the ground.  

You squat and put it on its side. You examine the blades, nervous to dig between the mulching teeth. You grab a stick and poke around. It breaks and you rip it out.  

"Dang it," you whisper.  

You stand up. It's too hot to think. As much as you miss the sunshine in the grim winters, the heat is less than welcome.   

"Hey, excuse me," a voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking maybe it's just the neighbours on the other side of the fence. "Um, miss?"  

You turn towards the voice and find a man peeking through the loose slat in the fence. You sigh. Yeah,   

that needs to be fixed too.  

You stare dumbly. You recognise the man. It takes a few seconds to remember where you saw him. He was with the realtor. You hadn't see much yet, not that you ventured outside often. The sign changed to sold and that was that.  

"Hi, uh, so this," he touches the plank, swiveling it on the hanging nail.

You nod and go to the edge of the patch of pavement but no further. You nibble your lip and search for something to say. Talking to mom is easy, you know what to expect, but strangers are different.   

"Gonna fix it," you assure him flatly.  

"Yeah, well, I was actually thinking, I'm just doing a few touch ups right now and I could spare a couple nails or two."  

You tilt your head and bring your hands together, mashing your palms anxiously, "it's rotted."  

He wiggles the wood and little slivers fall away. He hums disappointed, "sure is." He smiles as his blue eyes shine in the sunlight, "no problem then. I'm sure I can find something at the hardware store."  

You hesitate. You should mention you can afford even half a plank. Grandma left you the house and enough to cover property taxes, but mom's monthly cheques are already stretched thin. If he doesn't ask, you won't offer.  

"Steve," he stretches his arm through the opening.  

You look at his hand. Your stomach flip flops. You don't want to be rude as much as you don't want to touch this strange man. Well, no use in making another enemy around here.  

You lift your feet as you trudge through the high grass. As you near, the sweat slakes down your back. You gently shake his hand, just for a second, and pull back.  

"And your name? Neighbour?" 

You stare at the collar of his grey tee shirt and eke your name out. 

“Is it just you over here?” He asks. 

You shake your head. You bend your arm to pick at your sleeve. You don’t mind introductions but you’re not much for conversation. You don’t need him prying into things. If anyone really saw inside those walls, they’d only feel bad for you. You’d rather their apathy. 

“Oh, you got kids? A husband?” 

You wince. It’s almost a flattering assumption yet a reminder of everything you don’t have. You’re not old enough to really think about all that anyway. 

You glance back at the side of the house. You should hose that down and get rid of the mildew. Another tick on the endless list. 

“Mom,” you say. 

“Ah, makes sense. You in school?” 

You shake your head again. He’s quiet. You sway listlessly. 

“Anyway...” he says. 

You put your head down and back away. You go back to the mower, bending down to fiddle with it again. You could see if anyone would lend you one but that means asking and as much as the neighbourhood paints itself in friendly smiles, they aren’t genuine. The letter on the kitchen table is proof of that. 

“Not working?” The man, Steve asks. You cringe and stand up. He’s still there. 

You shrug as you look at him. You turn back to the mower and lift it by the handles. You try to ignore the nosy neighbour and line it up with the grass. You push and it doesn’t move easy. You grunt and it rolls over the grass. You think maybe it’s working but as you turn, you notice the grass stands back up, only slightly bent. 

“You know, I got a nice electric one. Isn’t here yet but I can bring it tomorrow on the truck,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind doing a once over, if you need.” 

You huff and push the mower over. 

“Can’t pay you,” you stomp back towards the house. 

“I didn’t say anything about money,” he chimes. 

You stop by the steps and cross your arms. You look at him, “too much.” 

“Well, if you change your mind, you can just come knock on my door,” he says. 

You nod and spin around again. You climb the steps, fighting to keep your steps even. You want to run inside and hide but you don’t want him to see how desperate you are to get away. 

The screen door snaps shut behind you. You kick off your shoes and go down the hall. Your mother huffs from her recliner. 

“You figure it out?” She asks. 

“No,” you flop onto the couch. 

“Knew ya wouldn’t,” she snorts as she stares out the window. “Man’s back. Musta bought the place.” 

“Uh, yeah,” you lean back, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face to sop up the sweat. “It’s hot.” 

“Nah, you’re just whiny,” she snickers. 

You don’t respond. You know better than that. You let her have her truth. Whatever she thinks of you, you can’t disprove. The world is she says it is. 

🏠

Your bedroom window shines yellow with the noon sun. The heat beams down on the folding table, warming your hands as you scratch charcoal onto thick paper. You still have grass stains on your fingers from another fruitless attempt at fixing the mower. Another day and you expect another letter isn’t far behind. 

As you focus on the lines and curves left by the pencil, your anxiety subsides. Drawing is the only thing that helps you forget. Really forget. You don’t think about the house or the lawn or the HOA or your mom. It’s just you and the pencil. 

You lean your forehead in your hand as you cross hatch the shadows. The chirping birds and the soft breeze deepen your trance. The world around you is distant and dim. You’re only awoken but the sudden and unfamiliar ‘ding dong’. 

You sit up. It takes a moment before you realise what it was. The doorbell? No one ever rings it. No, even Marge from the HOA waits until you come out to get the mail to accost you. 

You put the pencil down and get up. You go out and peek down the hallway. You creep along and stop at the doorway to the front room. You mom sniffs and wipes her eyes. She must have fallen asleep in her chair. 

“Who is it?” She snarls with grogginess in her throat. 

“I don’t know,” you go to the door and pull the curtain away from the long window beside it. You peek out at the figure on the porch and quickly hide behind the fabric. Too late. “It’s... the neighbour. I think he saw me.” 

“Ergh, don’t be stupid, girlie,” your mother barks, “help me up.” 

“Oh, uh, okay.” 

You go to her and offer your hand. You get her to her feet. She slightly hunched and slow but she makes her way to the door. She pauses and turns to the mirror above the little bench against the wall. She tidies her hair and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 

She leans on the door as she grips the handle. She opens it and the man from next door, Steve, greets her with a grin. 

“Hello?” She sweetens her tone. 

“Hello, miss, sorry to bother you,” he says, “I just moved in next door and I’m getting settled in. I was just about to do some lawn work and I thought maybe I might offer to do yours? It’s no trouble, I just thought I’d offer.” 

“Oh, what a honey you are,” she preens, “of course, that would be lovely of you. My daughter,” she sighs and shakes her head, “I’ve been nagging her for weeks to get it done.” 

“Really, it’s not a bother,” he assures her, “I’m Steve by the way.” 

His smile is just as charming as his introduction. 

“Holly,” your mother returns, “I’ll make you some lemonade for your trouble. It’s a hot one, isn’t it?” 

“Sounds good,” he agrees, “I’ll try not to make too much noise.” 

You peek out from behind your mother. Steve’s eyes meet yours for an instant before she blocks her out, no doubt eager to hide the state of the house from him. You back up as she turns to you.  

“What’re you doing hanging on like a rodent?” She hisses, “go make some lemonade.” 

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #mcu #marvel #captain america #au #silverfox au

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six

Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.

Part One .... Part Four - Part Five

---

“Rob, no.”

“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”

“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”

“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”

“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.” 

“I’ll figure it out on the way!”

She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too. 

It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened. 

That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened. 

She touched his arm.

And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot. 

Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop. 

“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”

“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”

“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now. 

“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”

“It’s not his fault.”

“He said it was his fault!”

Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.

“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”

“No! And why are you working?”

Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”

“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”

“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan. 

“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box. 

Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going. 

“Steve.”

“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.” 

“Why does he get special treatment?”

Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever. 

“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”

Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded. 

“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”

Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”

“And that doesn’t make you friends?”

“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?” 

The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too. 

He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part. 

“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”

“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”

She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her. 

“New record, champ,  that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Robs.”

He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check. 

The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces. 

If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what. 

Like those safety videos in school about seat belts. 

Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.  

Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself. 

“Did, uh, did you say something?”

Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now.. 

“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”

“Birdie, you don’t--” 

“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he smiled.

And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while. 

***

Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.

Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates. 

“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling. 

Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.

“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”

He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut. 

Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.

Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head. 

Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity. 

Eddie was still standing there. 

“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.

Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”

It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question. 

“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking. 

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated. 

“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up. 

Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag. 

***

Steve didn’t open it. 

He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night. 

If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days. 

“Do you have…?”

“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.” 

Eddie nodded. 

Eddie left. 

***

Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat. 

Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it. 

She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible. 

When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him. 

***

Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.

“No.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap. 

“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”

Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that. 

“No?” he asked instead.

Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’ 

“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.

“Steve?”

“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”

“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”

Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada. 

Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke. 

Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale. 

“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.

“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess. 

“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”

The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six. 

---------------

We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.

Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.

#You left me - you miss me #steddie #my writing #angst

[startwelve]

💌romantic scene

Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader

Synopsis: You and Eddie are having a movie night and without knowing it, you chose an adult romance movie.

Warning: Only mention of moaning and suggestion of what the protagonists of the movie you and Eddie watch are doing.

Eddie was waiting for you outside his trailer, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. You were taking longer than expected for your movie night. Then you showed up, walking tiredly and somewhat breathless.

"Hey, why did you take so long?" Eddie asked.

"I'm sorry," you apologized quickly.

"I'm sorry won't cut it this time, princess. I was really worried, what if you had an accident? What if some psycho stalker was looking for you?" he said semi-jokingly, crossing his arms with a raised eyebrow.

"My lip balm ran out, so I had to go to the pharmacy to buy another one," you confessed.

Your confession puzzled him; he couldn't believe you had been delayed because of lip balm. And he wouldn't understand why you needed to have that lip balm with you.

"An emergency with lip balm? Are you kidding, princess?" he asked, obviously not believing a word.

"I'm sorry…"

"I've been waiting for hours, and you were late because of your stupid lip balm?" he said, rolling his eyes before stepping aside and opening the door to let you in. "Anyway, come on, it's movie night."

"It's not a stupid lip balm, it's what helps me stay alive every day," you commented as you entered his trailer.

Eddie rolled his eyes and sat on the couch next to you. He remembered your little obsession with lip balms. He chuckled with a smile.

"Alright, maybe your lipstick helps you feel pretty, but saying it gives you life is a bit dramatic."

You frowned, remembering that he loved something as much as you loved your lip balms.

"What would happen to you if your guitar broke right now?"

Eddie raised his eyebrows, and his smile faded slightly. He crossed his arms and looked away. His guitar was very important to him.

"Don't joke about my guitar. It's not the same at all."

"If you say so…"

"It's not the same at all. You can live without your precious lip balm."

Now you crossed your arms.

"No! Because if I don't use my lip balm anymore, my lips will end up as dry and ugly as my grandma's."

Eddie couldn't believe you were arguing over lip balm.

"Anyway, let's watch the movie. What do you want to watch? Horror, action, or romance?"

"Romance…"

Eddie preferred a horror movie. Romance movies made him sick, especially the ones you chose. Eddie's eyebrow raised, and a smile appeared on his lips. He knew what you were doing.

"You want to watch romance? A silly chick flick?"

"Yes, I brought one," you said eagerly and searched your bag for the cassette; the movie was very sugary and sweet.

Eddie groaned.

"Can we watch horror or action? I don't want to watch a cheesy romantic movie."

"You didn't want to watch a horror movie last time; you couldn't sleep well for two weeks," you reminded him. "Fine, fine. We'll watch your little cheesy romantic movie. Are you happy?" he said in an exaggerated tone and raised his hands in a gesture of submission.

"Yes," you replied triumphantly.

Eddie groaned.

"Whatever you say, princess," he said and shook his head. "So, what kind of romantic movie are we watching?" It was the typical cliché of a love triangle between a good girl, a popular guy, and a lonely, marginalized guy. "Oh, so a typical romantic story?"

"I think so."

Eddie rolled his eyes and walked to the TV. He grabbed the remote and turned it on before turning to you.

"So, who do you think she'll choose in the end?"

"Mmm, she always chooses the one who treats her best…"

The movie started, and you watched it. The movie was absolutely sweet, and Eddie was getting bored watching it, almost falling asleep. But you were fascinated by the movie. Until you were horrified when, in the middle of the movie, the popular guy took the protagonist to his dressing room to kiss her, and Eddie started laughing at your expression. He sat down and watched, his lips curving into a smile.

"That's it! We've reached the kissing scene. I bet the loner will swoop in and give her the best kiss, and she'll realize who the real man for her is."

Eddie covered his mouth to suppress a laugh.

"But, Eddie, there's more going on than…" you couldn't finish speaking because of a moan from the protagonist.

Your eyes widened when you heard the sound of the moan; it was unexpected. He looked at you and saw that you were as surprised as he was.

"Well, that's surprising, a scene of true love in a romantic movie? I never would have imagined it."

You grabbed the cassette cover to read it better; you had bought it because you found the cover romantic, and the guy at the counter had told you it was a very good movie. Now you understood why… Down on the left in small letters, it said "+18".

Eddie was laughing out loud at this point. This is quite amusing. No wonder he had no idea a romantic movie could be so explicit. Eddie couldn't stop laughing. He looked at her and noticed how uncomfortable she was.

"Wow, it's even affecting me. I can't believe they put this scene in a romantic movie. Are you okay, princess?"

"Take out the movie, Eddie, I don't want to watch it anymore."

Eddie smiled and got up.

"Okay, princess. I guess the movie was too hot for you to handle."

He walked to the VCR and took out the cassette.

"Why do you say that?"

Eddie laughed again.

"Well, it was pretty obvious that you felt uncomfortable with the love scene. I guess you've never seen anything like it before."

"Never," you confessed with embarrassment.

He raised an eyebrow. It was good to know she was a little inexperienced. It made her even more adorable and cute.

"Really? The way you blushed made me think you had quite a rude awakening with that scene."

"I, umm, yeah," you lied.

Eddie laughed.

"Your cheeks are still a bit red. It's

very cute…"

He still couldn't believe you blushed so much because of a scene like that. "What a protected princess," Eddie thought.

"You?," you asked in a timid whisper.

Eddie arched an eyebrow and gave you a mischievous smile.

"What about me?"

"For you, for you, for you, I mean, umm, did the scene affect you?"

He laughed, finding you adorable.

"Well, I was a bit surprised too. I didn't expect a romantic movie to be so, let's say, realistic. But I didn't blush or anything."

"No?"

Eddie laughed again.

"No."

Of course, your reaction was more adorable than he could ever be. Especially when you're so nervous. He likes this side of you. The innocent side. It's more fitting. He thought it would be fun to start teasing you more for being a protected princess.

"Oh, really?"

Eddie smiled. You were even more flushed now. This was starting to seem more like flirting than just a joke.

"Yes, I didn't blush like you."

You looked at your hands, which were nervously playing with your skirt, then at the TV, and then at Eddie, searching for the words to ask him a question.

"You, you, you know, not, umm…"

"Do I know what?" Eddie asked, with a slightly raised eyebrow.

He found it cute how you kept looking down or away every time you asked something.

You took a deep breath and asked quickly.

"Have you ever done it?"

Eddie froze for a second. "Did she just ask what I think she asked? Why is she blushing even more?" Eddie thought.

"Done what?"

"What they did in the movie," you whispered.

Eddie laughed again and shook his head.

"Oh, do you mean something like this?" His lips quickly approached your face, causing his breath to caress your small, soft lips. You jumped in surprise, and a small scream escaped your lips. Eddie immediately jumped back, startled by your reaction.

"Are you okay? I didn't mean to scare you."

You covered your mouth with your hand in surprise; you just didn't expect him to do that.

"I didn't expect it."

"Oh, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. You're being so cute right now," Eddie said with a mischievous smile.

You had only been kissed once in high school, by a guy in the courtyard. You didn't like it. His breath smelled like fish, he used too much saliva, and his tongue almost choked you. And when you confessed to Eddie that you had only been kissed once, he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe you were so inexperienced and hadn't kissed someone more than once. So he decided to keep teasing you.

"Only once? Well, then I guess I should show you the real deal. Would you like that, princess?"

Your cheeks flushed; you wanted to.

Eddie laughed. The teasing was working. Eddie got up and knelt beside you. He extended a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He got very close to your face. Your breath caught in your throat, and you opened your eyes in surprise. Eddie's lips were only inches away from yours, and you could feel his warm breath brushing against your lips. The scent of his cologne filled your nose; it was a perfect blend of citrus and lavender. He brushed your cheek with his other hand. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Are you okay there, princess?" he joked. "Is it okay if I continue? Or do you prefer we wait?"

You couldn't speak; the words wouldn't come out. "Oh, this is adorable. I think I should do it," Eddie thought to himself. His hand still tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. His thumb gently stroked your cheek. His lips were so close that you could feel his breath against your lips. With one hand, he cradled your face. You sighed nervously.

"I like that you're so quiet, princess. It makes me want to kiss you more than before." He leaned in slowly, moving his lips very slowly towards yours.

Eddie's lips brushed gently against yours, and you felt his breath filling your lungs. It was soft and warm. He pulled away and looked into your eyes. He had just given you your first real kiss. Eddie's hand was under your chin as he held your face, looking into your eyes, waiting for your response.

"You kissed me," you whispered.

Eddie smiled.

"Yes, I kissed you."

You didn't know what to say; you just wanted him to kiss you again. Eddie leaned in a little more, and then his lips met yours again. This time it was more intense, with more passion than before. You didn't want to break the kiss and waited for you to pull away first. Eddie noticed that you had no idea what you were doing with your lips, so he took the lead. He moved his hands to the back of your head and pulled you a little closer to the kiss. His tongue gently met yours, and his lips moved in sync with yours. Eddie's thumb stroked your cheek, and he felt excited thinking to himself. He continued kissing you intensely. His lips pressed harder against yours, and you could feel his breath in your throat. His tongue explored your mouth, making it a more intimate and passionate moment. Slowly, you pulled away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the kiss.

Eddie let go of your face and sat back down. He hoped you weren't too upset now that he had stopped. Eddie watched you breathe and saw that your face was flushed. You were acting very shy now. And he wondered how you felt about how he kissed you.

"So, princess, did you like my kiss?"

"Yes," you whispered.

"So, is that a yes for me to kiss you again?" He leaned in very slowly, moving his lips closer to yours.

You nodded your head. Eddie leaned in again, this time seeking a less intense kiss. It was softer than a passionate kiss. His hands held you by the cheeks. His tongue touched yours gently. He continued to smile to himself as he kissed her.

#fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x shyfem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #cute #cute read #shygirl #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #stranger things

[babygorewhore]

Yes, sir.

Moving to the outer banks wasn’t planned but your grandmother needed as much help as she could get. What she didn’t mention was a hot guy named JJ worked for her. And he decides to take you. Even if you’re sleeping.

Moodboard

Idk what came over me. Thank you so much to @xxhellfirebunnyxx for beta reading and always talking me out of quitting writing. This is kinda short but oh well. And also my first JJ fic EEEEEEEE. And yes, I changed the name.

Warnings! Dubcon! Fucking you awake! Slight spanking! Pussy slapping! Oral! Fem recieving. Choking! Tying hands! Unprotected sex! Breeding kink! Perv! JJ Dark! JJ Dom! JJ sub reader!

You knew moving to a new state would be hard but the worst part was unpacking the dozens of boxes in your bedroom and you were careful to set away your prized box of toys.

You moved here to take care of your Grandma, the old woman didn’t have anyone else and she couldn’t hardly care for herself anymore. You didn’t mind, leaving behind your old state and hovering parents that were disappointed in your life choices. Setting your hands on your hips briefly you then jumped at the sound of the lawn mower. You walked to your window and gasped.

Moving the tool was a tall, shirtless blonde guy wearing knee length shorts. His shirt was tossed over his shoulder and his backwards hat covered his messy hair.

He glanced up and you stepped back from the window. You breathed out before you went downstairs where you grandma was loitering in the kitchen. “Grandma, are you hungry? It’s past noon.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I want you to meet someone.” She gestured for someone to enter the kitchen who was behind you and you gulped when you saw it was the hot blonde guy.

He put his t shirt on unfortunately and grazed by you as he passed by.

“This is JJ. He helps me around and I appreciate his company.” She reaches up and pinches his cheek. You snort when he winced but then plasters on a fake smile.

“And she’s my favorite lady to cut grass for, aren’t you?” You almost rolled your eyes at the way your grandma cooed after him.

JJ turned towards you. “Well, you must be the famous uh, Baby doll, your grandma keeps talking about. When did you get here?” The way he phrases the word makes goosebumps rise on your skin but you clear your throat.

“I uh, got here three days ago. I’m still unpacking.” JJ nodded.

“Well, let me know if you need any help with that. I gotta finish cleaning the pool. I’ll see you later.” He gave you a smirk, glancing up at your body.

The hours went by and you really tried to resist but you finally took out your rabbit. Tension built up from stress and now new eye candy to admire. He stayed for hours, cleaning and working outside. Giving you plenty to view as he wiped sweat off his body with his discarded shirt.

Everyone where you used to live wasn’t nearly on his level. And he seemed confident. At least to you.

The silicone was slightly cold as you ran it down your clit that was covered in spit.

What you didn’t know. someone was watching you.

JJ was hidden in your closet. He never left, only snuck back in through the window when everyone went to bed. He had been waiting for weeks for you to come. The old woman couldn’t stop talking about her pretty little granddaughter. And when he saw your picture? He knew he’d have you no matter what it took. He didn’t care that it made him a total perv right now.

The way you ran the toy over your pussy that was glistening even in the dim lighting. Your hands were grabbing your tits as you massaged them and he had to clench his jaw to keep from moaning.

Finally, you brought it inside you, your cunt took it with ease as you pumped it slowly then faster. You almost rolled on the bed, your legs spread wide as you moaned and panted. “Mmm,”

JJ started palming himself before he forced himself to stop. No. He wouldn’t cum in his own hand. No. He would cum inside you.

You were growing closer, he could tell by the way you were breathing and how your stomach tightened. Come on, baby. There you go. He thought.

You spilled all over the toy and bit your lip to quiet yourself. JJ wanted to make you scream and he would. He’d have you on your own bed. A little Kook according to his standards but you needed him. Your pretty doe eyes that were fucked out. Your bitten bloody lip that he wanted to suck.

He waited as you drifted asleep after staying on your phone.

He quietly walked out, his boots thankfully not making much noise. JJ carefully picked up the discarded rabbit beside you. He brought it to his mouth, seeing it was still wet with your slick.

He wrapped his lips around it, his eyes rolling back at the sweet taste that coated the plastic. JJ knew his own cum would taste like heaven mixed with yours. His tongue licked the sides, much like how he wanted to devour your sweet pussy. You were still naked on your lower half. JJ rolled his hips as he tried to keep quiet.

But your swollen pussy. Your tits hanging outside of your shirt. Fuck it. JJ set the rabbit down and sank to his stomach. He wasn’t going to wake you up in the traditional way. No. His breath warm against your pussy and he flattened his tongue against your clit.

You groaned, something…felt good. It was in between your legs. It was warm and pressured. You groggily opened your legs and saw a head full of blonde curls buried in your cunt. You gasped but a slap landed on your ass.

“Shhh.” It was JJ. “Lay back. Like a good girl.” He commanded as he greedily sucked your clit before releasing it. he saw you were still sitting up, eyes wide staring at him. “Lay. Down.” He gritted out and you quickly obeyed.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered as he kitten licked the underside of your bud before sinking it inside you. Your pussy tightened around his tongue and he groaned and dug his nails against your flesh. He dragged them down as you humped his mouth with force but he didn’t fucking care.

“JJ, I’m gonna c-“ He stopped immediately and you whined from the removal.

JJ slapped your pussy. “You should see how pathetic you look.” He smirked as he yanked off his shorts and wrapped your wrists with his belt above your head. “This is how it’s gonna go, you’re gonna fucking take it.”

You shuddered before he slammed his lips to yours, he tasted like weed as he opened his mouth and twisted his tongue to yours. You tasted yourself on him as your eyes fluttered shut. You felt him run the tip of his cock along your slit before he sank into you, filling you up.

Your head lulled to the side as you sighed as he started thrusting without warning. “You’re such a dirty slut, huh? Letting me fuck you while you’re sleeping? Fucking yourself while I’m watching?”

Your headboard slammed against the wall and your eyes rolled back as he hit a particular deep spot inside you and his necklace hovered above your face. You couldn’t hardly move but just accommodate him with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Don’t-don’t stop, sir.”

JJ leaned down and let spit fall into your mouth. “I’m gonna cum in you. Fuck a baby inside you. You’d like that? Knocked up with my baby?”

You nodded rapidly. “Yes, sir. Fuck,” You body jolted as your peak was rising, his thumb started circling around your clit.

JJ was about to cum, you knew by the way his speech halted and his movements stopped having a rhythm as he ravaged you. His hand slid to your throat as he gripped you. “Thank me for fucking you. Then you-you can cum.” He muttered.

“Thank you for fucking me, sir.” You whined before your pleasure exploded inside you.

Your body trembled as white hot euphoria came over you and your air was cutting off as JJ squeezed. His rings cold against your burning flesh. He spilled inside you, sticky and all over your pussy and thighs.

You both breathed in each other and he released your throat and you sucked in oxygen.

JJ gave you a wicked smile. “I’m not done with you, princess. I’m gonna hide again in your closet. And you’re going to pretend you’re sleeping. We’ve got all night, huh?”

Tagging. @xxhellfirebunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @take-everything-you-can @girlfuckthatwhore @imyourdaninow @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @scene-and-dandylover @lesservillain @emsgoodthinkin

#jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #JJ Maybank xfemreader #jj #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank smut #JJ smut #jj maybank one shot #JJ Maybank outer banks #outer banks smut #outer banks #dark! JJ Maybank #perv!JJ Maybank

[alphabetboyluvr]

PALLADIUM - MYG

title credit: palladium- greyson chance

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut

synopsis:

min yoongi is urgent.  in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent.  the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent.  

wordcount: 3.2K

note from holly: this was a prompt from a winner of one of my kofi quizzes! was supposed to be a drabble but now we are looking at a lil three parter. no smut in this part, just setting up our dynamics <3 yoongi is a boy dad! idc! argue with the wall!!!!

PART TWO // PART THREE

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent," Yoongi pleads across the bakery counter. Nails bitten down to the bed, he's got bags underneath his eyes. Hasn't been sleeping well these days. Hasn't really been sleeping at all.

"I told you last time—"

"I know, I know," he sighs, pushing off of the countertop and pacing a few steps away, raking a stressed palm through his long, dark hair. Dishevelled, he hasn't had it cut in a while. You'll never tell him, but you think it looks better this way. "Look, it's the last time. I promise. I just really fucked it this time."

With a raised brow, you fold your arms over your chest. The apron beneath you bunches a little awkwardly, but you've never cared much for composure around Yoongi. Have simply known him too long and seen him through too many clumsy stages of life to be bothered. 

Tipping your head back, you exhale a sharp breath from the very depths of your lungs. 

"You are so lucky Jaehyun is an angel baby," you eventually say, shaking your head as you reluctantly agree. "What time do you need me?"

"Deadline is at midnight," Yoongi says, "So whenever you can get to mine, really. Mum has him till seven, but then she's got Bitch'n'Stitch—"

"Hey," you scold. "My mum goes to that knitting group, too."

"I'm not calling her a bitch—but I've heard their conversations," Yoongi reminds you. He swears they don't actually do any knitting (as if they haven't handmade half of Jaehyun's closet). Thinks they spend the entire time gossiping. And while yes, they do do a lot of gossiping, they can multitask. Unlike him, apparently. "But fine. She has her knitting group at seven."

Yoongi will never simply call it a knitting group, if he can help it. 

Bitch'n'Stitch is his go-to, but he's also partial to Stitching Hour. 

Last week, you'd just gone on a rant about how it's inappropriate to insinuate that all women of a certain age from your small town are witches—"Women used to get burned at the stake, Yoongi. Burned!"—so he knows better than to say it out loud today, even if it makes him laugh whenever he thinks about them knitting on broomsticks.

"I'll probably be outta here at just gone six," you tell him. 

It's the late shift, so you're responsible for closing and cleaning up, but after two years of part-time work alongside your studies, you're a dab hand. Can action off every item on the to-do list in record time, and to a standard even your boss can't achieve. 

You're wasted on a small town like this, but someone's gotta do it. 

"That's fine," Yoongi nods. "I just need to straighten this essay out and get my citations done. You can go as soon as I'm finished—and hey, you can order takeout. I'll pay."

Knowing Yoongi, he's probably surviving on instant noodles, and spending all of his money on Red Bull and Jaehyun's meticulously planned diet. 

Jaehyun's been off formula for about two months, now, and Yoongi is terrified of feeding him the wrong thing. By the looks of his slightly skinnier-than-usual frame, he's the one in need of a good meal.

And so, as you're doing your final tasks of the day, you don't bin the breads that need to be chucked. Instead, you bag them up. All of them. The pastries, too. Will just have to hope Yoongi has freezer space.

By the time you make it home, you've only got ten minutes to spare for a quick shower before you need to rush to Yoongi's. You'll be a little after seven, but it's fine. You've resigned yourself to staying at Yoongi's until midnight, now. 

It's how it usually goes. 

He'll work up until his deadline, rewriting and revising paragraphs that are perfectly fine and need no alterations. His own worst critic, you know that he really doesn't need to stress himself out like this.

Still, he does. You think he'll always be this way—at least, he was in high school, and he remains to be this way, even in university. Too much of a habit has been formed. It's ingrained in the ridges of his brain. Pink and permanent—just like the pout on his lips as he opens his apartment door for you later that evening.

Forearm tucked under Jaehyun's pudgy thighs, Yoongi cradles his son into his side, as a look of relief relaxes onto his face. It's a stark reminder of why Yoongi stresses himself out so much. 

You can afford to make mistakes. The only person you have to answer to is yourself.

Yoongi doesn't have that luxury anymore. Hasn't done for a while, now. Won't ever get it again—or at least, not for another seventeen years.

"Hey," he whispers, then casts his eyes down to Jaehyun's sleepy head. Nestling into Yoongi's shoulder, Jaehyun's dark hair now has a little length to it. Much like his own, Yoongi is refusing to cut it. Another thing he's scared of getting wrong. 

The subtle nod Yoongi gestures towards Jaehyun is a request for you to be quiet. 

You're familiar with his paternal habits by now; the behaviours he exhibits only when he's wearing his invisible 'Dad' hat.

He tucks back against the door, letting you walk on through and into his apartment.

Shoes off by the door, Yoongi locks up as you shake off your jacket, and hook it on the empty peg in the middle of the rack.

Small and a little dark, Yoongi hates his home. Is strapped for cash, so turned the open plan kitchen and sitting room into a studio-type set-up. Has his bed where a sofa should be, and manages to cram everything somewhere. His desk, his small keyboard, his clothing rail that he really needs to reorganise. A bunch of his things are in storage. 

Jaehyun's room is what once was Yoongi's. It's got the most natural light, thanks to the window placement, not that it matters at this time of night. The curtains are drawn, playmat full of yellows and oranges scattered across the floor. Beside it, is Yoongi's laptop. The screensaver is running, and it's pretty obvious he'd been playing with the little toy octopus sprawled across the keyboard instead, when you had arrived.

"Bit late for nap time?" You question quietly as you pop your phone on the charging pad Yoongi keeps on the dresser.

Nodding, Yoongi gently rests his son down in his crib. These past couple of days, everything has been a little out of sync. He feels guilty—like he's failing—but the pressures he's been putting on himself are just getting far too great. He's doing the best he can, but it always feels like it's not enough.

But Jaehyun is loved, and sheltered, and provided for. Yoongi is doing all he can. He just still isn't sure he knows how to be a dad.

Which is silly, because as you watch him stroke across the dark hair that sits flat to Jaehyun's scalp, quietly monitoring his condition, you think that Yoongi was made for this. Is far more paternal than you are maternal.

Truth be told, you don't like kids all that much.

Your idea of a fun evening doesn't typically involve hanging out with an infant, and yet you'll do it for Yoongi. Of course, you will. Have known him for too long and have been through too much with him to not help him.

Plus, you really do adore Jaehyun. Sweet as can be when he sleeps, he really does look just like Yoongi at that age—or so you gather from the baby pictures you've seen a dozen times over at his parents' place. It's easier to count which features they don't share. Saves ever needing to do a paternity test, not that Yoongi would do one anyway.

Jaehyun is his kid. A little bit of DNA wouldn't change this fact, not in his eyes.

It worries you. Not because you think Yoongi isn't his father—again, they're too alike to not be related—but in case his mother decides she wants to play an active role in Jaehyun's life. You fear that the 1% of doubt could come true and tear any legal right away from Yoongi. You're not really sure how the courts would work it all out, but you doubt they'd side with him. 

Yoongi was never meant to be a father. Not now, at least. The outcome of a one-night-stand, Jaehyun's biological mother didn't realise she was pregnant until it was too late. Had no real choice in the matter. Was also nearing the end of her tenure in law school. A kid was not—and remains to not be—a part of her plan. 

You know the documents were signed. Legal rights, shit like that. Know that she must have an understanding of the law far greater than Yoongi. Just hope she hasn't done anything that will fuck him over in the future.

Still, it's not a topic of conversation Yoongi likes indulging in, and so you don't push, no matter how much you'd like to know the details. 

"Let him sleep," Yoongi eventually sighs, before sinking down to lie on the rug. "Better he rests while I'm working—and plus, he slept through till five-thirty this morning."

"Till sunrise?" You chirp, a little surprised but conscious of keeping your voice down. 

Yoongi nods, face rubbing against the carpet. "He's basically a teenager."

Rolling your eyes, you reach down for his wrist to drag him to his feet. He's got an essay to finish. 

"Shut up," you smile. "You've barely stopped being a teenager."

Sometimes, it makes you a little sad to think that Yoongi is missing out on his early twenties—but then you glance across to Jaehyun and know that he's not missing anything. Just experiencing different things. That's all. 

"Don't remind me," he grunts, lamely getting to his feet, letting you pull him down the hallway as you swipe the baby monitor that lives next to the charging pad. You'll come back for your phone later. 

"C'mon, gotta finish your essay. Can't be a DILF unless you get this degree."

"Untrue."

"You'll just be a D without a good job," you tell him. "DILF's are always suited up."

"That's simply not true," he doubles down. "I've been told I'm a DILF at least, like, six times. Maybe more."

Definitely more. If he knew the way girls on campus spoke about him? God, his head would be so big he wouldn't be able to walk through doors.

But for now, you shoo him back through Jaehyun's bedroom door and to his sitting room-come-bedroom. The apartment isn't large. A baby monitor isn't needed, yet one is set up by Yoongi's bed, regardless. 

And so, as Yoongi knuckles down with his work, you flop onto his bed, and take prime babysitting position—though you're pretty sure you'd get fired if you ever got under anyone else's sheets on the job.

But it's late, and you've worked a long shift. You're only gonna rest your eyes for a moment. A second. A fraction of one, even. Just to hydrate them a little. Replenish your—

You're out like a light.

The curse of Min Yoongi's bedsheets. You really should have known better. It happens every damn time. You know this. He knows this. 

Yet when he eventually wakes you, neither of you mention it.

"Hey," Yoongi mumbles as he gently nudges your sleepy body. Flopping down beside you on top of the duvet, his exhausted eyes close instantaneously. 

"I'm going, I'm going," you grumble into his duvet, half asleep but knowing that you should go and check on Jaehyun. 

The baby monitor hasn't made any noise to wake you, and Yoongi's just been with him for the last twenty minutes, quietly watching on as he slept. Is pretty confident he's gonna sleep through again tonight. 

Reaching out to pat you down, Yoongi doesn't really acknowledge the way he accidentally taps your ass. Nor do you. Just sort of pretend that he didn't. Pretend that it didn't make your heart race a little.

"S'fine," he says, voice muffled by his need for rest. "He's still sleeping. Just checked on him."

"Sure?"

"Mhm," Yoongi nods, the sound of his hair smooth against his sheets. "You gonna crash here?"

"You all done?" You question right back. Shuffle, and his hand lazily moves with you. His wrist now rests on your hip, and you both pretend like it's normal.

"All done," he confirms. "Was late, so I've lost ten percent, but whatever."

For someone who stresses himself out as much as Yoongi does over his grades, as soon as he's hit the submission button, he just ceases to care. Has a 'what'll be, will be' attitude towards it all. Part of you wishes he would adopt that mentality when he's actually writing his essays.

What you don't realise is that it manifests from the same fear. 

He panics and panics and panics before a deadline—and then is so worried about his grade that he just pretends like they don't exist.

Too sleepy to care at this moment in time, Yoongi's placement of his wrist on your hip becomes more intentional. Deliberate. 

It's not like you're a stranger to the weight of Yoongi's arms draped over your body. Not like it's the first time—it's just every time it does happen, you swear it'll be the last.

It never is.

And it's not like it's anything illicit. Not anything you shouldn't be doing. Nothing that takes you beyond the realms of friendship—but it does threaten the integrity of your oldest connection to another human outside of familial ties. 

So every time Yoongi gets a little too close, or you find yourself lingering a little long on his words, you tell yourself to stop. That this is just a symptom of the dry spell you've been going through.

"Are you staying here tonight?" He asks.

Again, it wouldn't be the first time. Have been having sleepovers with him since you were kids. Ghost stories, midnight feasts. Sneaking out to the park to find UFOs and stopping by the corner shop for snacks. 

Once high school hit, it was deemed unwise by your parents. Open door policy. 

You'd been furious. Outraged that your privacy was being taken from you, and being told it was for your own good.

And so sneaking out the park became sneaking in windows; films watched with headphones on, dinner eaten in your bedroom under the guise of a melodramatic teenage strop, but actually shared with the boy from two doors down who knew better than to deceive your parents.

All innocent. Nothing that required a closed door. Those escapades were saved for—or wasted on—other people. Either, or. Neither you nor Yoongi gave it much thought. Why would you?

Friends, is what you were. What you are. What you always have been.

Which begs the question: why the fuck is Yoongi looking at you like that?

But then the wrist of Yoongi's resting on your hip becomes his hand. The grip becomes intentional. The stillness of your body comes not from tiredness, but from trepidation. 

"Do you want me to?" 

"It's late," he husks, thumb stroking against your hip as if that's what friends do. "You're off tomorrow, right? Don't need to go home?"

"Right."

"Well, then stay," he shrugs, loosening his grip to roll onto his back. The ceiling is far less interesting than you are, but he has to stop looking at your lips and wondering if they taste like the strawberry lip balm you'd tossed on the side cabinet earlier. "Makes sense."

"Stay?" You question as if he still needs to clearly outline that, yes, he'd like you to stay. "And do what?"

"Sleep," he dryly replies, because it's the obvious answer. Because it's what you should do. You're tired. He's tired. Jaehyun is asleep in the next room over.

"Sleep," you nod. "Sounds good."

Domestication becomes you in times like these. A toothbrush sits in an old glass on the top shelf of Yoongi's mirrored bathroom cabinet. The rest of the shelves are pretty much empty, but he always puts it up there. Says it annoys him anywhere else.

"Surely it's more annoying having to get it down for me every time I crash here?" You banter with him as you lean against the back wall of his bathroom, waiting for him to retrieve it. 

Plucking it from the glass, Yoongi is swift with his movements, and the way he wets the brush, puts a pearl of toothpaste on the bristles, then hands it back over to you.

"Doesn't bother me," he shrugs, turning back around to shut the cabinet. When he does, he's greeted with your eyes in the mirror, and a feeling in his stomach that should bother him. 

See, the D in Yoongi's DILF actually stands for dependable (although occasionally dickhead also fits). He likes being asked to do things. Likes being helpful. Useful. Knows that he depends on you far more than you do him, and so he does this to settle the score. 

You help him pass his exams, and he helps you keep good dental hygiene habits. A win-win situation. 

Leaving you to finish washing up, Yoongi does the final checks of his apartment. Bolts the door. Turns out the lights. Makes sure Jaehyun's day bag is packed for tomorrow with his Grandma. Adds the day's clothes to the laundry pile. Stands in the doorframe of Jaehyun's room to just simply watch his son exist for a little while longer. 

He loses track of time doing this. It's a nightly routine, so you think he'd get used to it, but he never does. Still can't fully comprehend that a living, breathing creature relies on him for basic survival. 

Sure, he hides your toothbrush away, and puts things out of reach for you just to get you asking him for help, but this is different. He cares about nothing more than making sure Jaehyun is surrounded by abundance: love, shelter, food. Everything the world has to offer, Yoongi wants for his son—and that's why he's working so damn hard to make sure it happens.

There's a tenderness to how Yoongi strokes your back when you stand beside him. He's far gentler than he used to be. Benevolent with age. Isn't the same kid who used to chase you around his parent's yard with a worm in one hand, and a pile of mud in the other. 

"C'mon," you whisper, walking away because you know you need to break the contact. "Let's rest."

Yoongi nods. Is slow as he tears his gaze from his son, but just as stoic as he watches you saunter down the hallway and into your bedroom for the night. His bedroom.

You slip out of sight, just in time for Yoongi to exhale the air in his lungs. His sigh is full of unspoken words. Uncertain terms—and as he follows you down, he wonders how many more secrets will bloat his lungs throughout the night.

#bts fanfic #bts x y/n #bts x reader smut #bts fic #bts x you #bts x reader #yoongi fic #bts yoongi #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi #yoongi #myg x you #myg x reader #myg smut #myg #byholly #yoongi oneshot #dilf yoongi

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Crumbling Down

carlos sainz x Piquet!wife oc & secret family

this is meant with no real negativity to cs55's girlfriend rebecca, and only discusses her in a slight poor light due to plot reasons.

Private Account

verity.sainz a perfect break with my whole world before flying is restricted once more by baby #4 🤍

carlossainz55 mi corazon ❤️

f1wags and we're back to race week with the first public appearance of Carlos Sainz's new girlfriend!

fan1 WHY DOES HE HAVE HIS EYES OPEN WHEN THEY KISS?

"Carlo," I can't help the crack in my voice when I say his name, "You said you would say no to them. You said you wouldn't abuse our desire to keep our private life private like this."

"Mi amor," The pet name hurts, something that used to make my body buzz with joy making me want to cry harder as I wrap my arm around my rounded stomach. "They were insistent, I've never had a woman come to the paddock outside my family and they say I needed to change that."

"You haven't gone with a woman because we decided to remain private! We didn't want to pressures of the world! So we got married, and then we had Carlos and Junie and then they were each too young to go, and just as we were about to announce the family, I got pregnant with Flora and now with Tilly-"

"Tilly? As in Matilda?" He asks, interrupting my emotional rate with a tone that is too close to joy. "You found out the baby's gender?"

We had picked out names. This wasn't how he was supposed to find out.

"Yes, she's a little girl," I admit, "The kids and I had a whole plan how to announce it once you got home."

"I can't wait to see what you have planned," Is his answer, the sounds of the garage around him getting slowly quieter as I can only assume he moves towards his drivers room.

The idea of him coming home after kissing her to kiss me, to kiss our children's foreheads, makes me want to be sick.

"At the moment Carlos, I can't promise the kids and I will be here when you get home," I whisper, the truth slipping out like razorblades. "I think we're going to go see my parents."

"Vera, you're not meant to be flying. We were cutting it close with out trip as it is," He answers, voice strong and commanding.

"That's what's upsetting you? The fact that I will be traveling and not that I've just told you that your wife and children won't be home to greet you when you return because you're parading around another woman? Because when Carlos and Junie put on the race to see their father they'll see her name with yours underneath?"

"Verity, you know that's not what I want-"

"Then why did you agree? Why did you agree after I cried to you about how the idea of you with another woman made me ill?"

"It was for a good reason," His answer is hesitant, and you can tell he doesn't mean it.

"I hope the reason was enough for you, Carlos, because I can't keep letting you love us in the dark. We'll be with a friend since you're so concerned about me traveling." He did have a good point on that matter, but I can't help but say it before hanging up, not giving him a moment to respond as I waddle my way to the living room, dropping myself on the couch.

"Mamá?" Carlos III's voice calls, his head of hair like his fathers sticking out from behind the hallway wall, "Que occure? (What happened?)"

"Oh my baby, nothing happened," I try to assure, attempting to get all the tears off my cheeks before he can really notice.

"Mamá," He prompts this time, sounding entirely fed up with my response as he moves into the room, such a serious look for a seven year old. "I heard you on the phone with Papá. What has he done?"

"Something that you do not need to worry yourself about mi mundo (my world)," I assure, pulling him into my side as he gets close. He curls into my side, hand resting on my stomach as he's done with his other sisters.

"Hola Tilly," He greets her, placing a quick kiss to where he feels her kick before looking up to me, his father's spitting image. "We're going to stay with Grandma and Grandpa?"

"No, you're father made the point that I can't travel anymore, so we're going to go see if tia Kelly and prima Penelope are up for some visitors, yeah?"

"I'll go get my suitcase and start packing," He agrees, giving me a small smile as he moves to get up. I know I'll have to repack his suitcase later, but as he runs off, all I can be is grateful for this little angel who blessed us when we were young and unprepared, much to my fathers chagrin. But my kids are who keep me together as I dial my sister's number, tears coming to my eyes when I hear her voice.

"Vera? Honey are you crying?"

"Kel, can the kids and I come visit?"

"Always. P will prep her toys and I will prep the guest rooms."

"What the fuck were you thinking," The angered Red Bull driver shouts across the paddock, storming towards the Ferrari drivers who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Max, what's-"

"This doesn't involve you, Charlie," The Dutchman silences, eyes blazes of fire as they move to the Spaniard who's practically his brother-in-law. "You brought your girlfriend to a race and expected that to go well with your wife? The mother of your four children?"

"Tell me you did not," Charles chimes in, unable to keep the words from slipping out of his mouth at news. He had seen Carlos with a woman earlier, but had only assumed her to be a new member of his media team.

"It is none of your concern, Verstappen. What happens between my wife and I is just that."

"And I'll respect that when your actions aren't broadcasted to the entire world and having Vera call Kelly sobbing saying she's packing up the kids and leaving," Max fumes, Carlos's expression dropping at the knowledge. He had known that she was upset, that she had threatened to leave, but he thought it was just that, a threat. Not that she would actually leave the home they had designed together in Nice.

"After this race you better fix your fucking mess, because I will enforce whatever Verity wants, whether that is keeping you away from her and the kids or not."

And the Dutchman storms off, not waiting for a response.

"Kelly, I am only here to see my family."

"Carlos, you've been in our family for nine years, by law seven, but I can promise you that if Vera doesn't want you here, you will not be entering this apartment," The elder Piquet daughter warns, eyes angered by the mans simple presence.

"Kel, can I come in?" Max questions, not wanting to answer her more but also hoping to embrace her and Penelope, any week without them feeling too long.

She smiles at him, having missed him as well but her expression quickly steels. "Not if you are bringing him in with you."

"Kelly," I finally interrupt, having enough of seeing her scold my husband through the door as I breastfeed Flora. "You can just let them in, but please warn Max that I'm feeding Flora," I request, hating the idea of making the man uncomfortable in his home.

"You're okay, Ver," Max offers, his eyes immediately meeting my own and not leaving as Kelly opens the door, him and Carlos entering. "Kelly and I are actually going to go say hi to the kids, I've missed P and all of them," he says, kissing my sisters lips in a quick peck.

"Is Flora done? We could take her with us?" And it's like Flor could understand her aunt's question, because she's unlatching on cue, allowing me to pull up the piece of my top to cover myself and nod to Kel.

"Would you please? She just needs to be-"

"Burped," Max finished, taking my current youngest into his arms, kissing her head as he moves her to his shoulder. "Between P and my nephews, we've got this covered. Just let us know when you're done," He offers, kissing the side of my head.

"Thank you."

"Anything for family," He just smiles, the expression falling when he turns to Carlos who has been frozen in place. "Say the wrong things and your ass will be on the street before you can say forza ferrari."

"Sí- I mean, yes, of course," His eyes meeting mine before his next words leave his mouth. "I just want to talk apologize my wife."

"Right then, let's go say his to the kids," Kelly prompts, the two walking out with Flora in hand, the cheers of the kids upon seeing their uncle and P seeing her father figure making my heart warm.

"Mi amor, you have no idea how sorry I am for agree to the teams request for even a moment," Carlo apologizes, his body moving towards mine, taking the spot beside me and my hands into his own. "I went back to the team, they've posted an announcement saying that Rebecca and I are not together, and I gave them a photo of us from our wedding."

My heart beat fastens, his eyes meeting mine as his fingers start to fiddle with my wedding band. "Why would you do that?"

"I am having it announced that before my start in formula one I have been madly in love with you. That over those years we have married and created a family in private that I love," He explains, a hand coming to cup my cheek, running his calloused thumb to wipe away the tears that have begun slowly running from my eyes. "I no longer want to hide you. We can keep the kids to ourselves until they're older, but now everyone knows I am taken by the love of my life."

"Carlo," I can't help but whimper, flinging myself at him in a hug. "Te amaré hasta que ya no respire (i will love you until i am no longer breathing)."

"And I, you, mi amor," He assures, kissing the top of my head. "I am more sorry than I could ever put into words."

"You've fixed the situation, Carlo, we can work from this," I smile, little giggles alerting us to our observers.

And wrapped around the corner, piled on top of each other, our children's heads and niece's head are stacked, Junie's under her brothers and Penelope's in between. It's only a moment later thought that Flora appears to be floating on top of Carlos III, Max and Kelly's heads slowly appearing as well.

"Estan bien mamá y papá? (Are you okay mama and papa?)" Juniper questions us, Carlos III placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Sí," Carlos Jr answers, pulling us into a sitting position. "Ven aquí nuestros amores (Come here our loves)." Their little feet carry them strong and fast towards us, gently climbing on top of us, minding my stomach as Kelly approaches us, now holding Flora and resting her gently against my chest with a smile. "We are okay, Papa made a mistake but he has started fixing it and I will be working to so for a time."

"As you should," Carlos III digs, making me smile slightly.

"We love you all," I remind, kissing eaches head, including Penelope. "And we love each other. No matter what, things will work out and we will love you all," my little girl giggling brightly.

"Nosotros tambien te amamos mama (we love you too mama)."

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #formula 1 fanfiction #best friends to lovers trope #formula 1 #long story #carlos sainz #secret family #carlos sainz x reader #cs55 #carlos sainz imagine #pregnancy #piquet oc #max verstappen #kelly piquet

[thoughtfulbearpanda]

February 2024 Pick a Card

Piles 1 -> 2 -> 3

Hi there! This is a timeless reading, so remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. Remember that you have free will and nothing is set in stone. Yes, this is intended for entertainment purposes but if any serious topics that come up in these readings that you find yourself resonating with, please seek aid or professional help if you are inclined to do so. Also, if anything in this reading is triggering for you don't feel the need to continue reading; please prioritize your mental and emotional health.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

PILE I

Okana Oracle: Reconcile, Grandma's Baby Lenormand: Whip & Heart, Tarot: 6 of cups rx, 2 of wands, 4 of cups, the Tower rx, 9 of cup rx

What I see you going through in the month of February pile 1 is you walking away from something. With the 6oc rx coupled with the 2ow there may be a decision you will have to make, and this decision could lead to you letting go of past connections, I’m getting ‘leaving the nest' for some of you. Some of you could be moving away, beginning your own chapter of life solo; some of you could be traveling overseas in the month of February, or just simply moving out of house and getting your own place. 

There is also this aspect of fear, not really knowing what you’re getting into, there is the sense of naivety. This could be towards a new job, maybe a change of career path or change in career studies for those who are still in school. This could be a small few of you but some of you may be weighing the decision to drop out of college or school. College/school/work may no longer be as exciting for as when you first started and you may be thinking about just calling it quits, but are delaying this decision because you may not have a backup plan and/or you don’t want to disappoint your loved ones. It’s like ‘I no longer enjoy this.’; ‘What if there is more for me out there?’; ‘What will my loved ones think?’; ‘What if I don’t have a back up plan and this ends being a mistake?’

Life is not full of easy choices. Every day we are proven that life is short. For those who resonate with the school/college message, I am not here to tell you what you should do BUT do what you believe is best for you. College is not for every one, but if dropping out is an option you are considering than have a back up plan ready for when you do. Figure out what you are going to do afterwards. Don’t just dive into this particular decision blindly.

I see you going through transformation pile 1. Some of you may have felt like you lost your spark, your joy, your purpose in life. I see you gaining that back in the month of February. You are going to start making decisions that make YOU happy, that bring YOU joy. February is the month where you consider how to get closer to your ultimate goal in life, and how you can rediscover your sense of purpose.

Shadow Message: Reconcile - “love yourself for only then can you love others” -> What is something that you find yourself struggling to let go of? What is this thing that is depleting you? Is it a job? Is is friends? Family? A partner, past or present? Do you find yourself pouring so much of yourself into this thing and/or person (people) that you barely have enough to pour into yourself? To whomever this resonates, it is time to take a look at your current attachments and come to terms with whether it is healthy or if you are simply a victim of codependency. Is this thing or person feeding off of you? If so, then it is time to cut the cord on that. Do some 'spring cleaning'. For some, it may not even a person or a job. Sometimes it just simply clearing out the old within your space, getting rid of old clothes, trinkets, furniture etc., to make room for the new. Find what is weighing you down emotionally, spiritually, mentally; find what is depleting your happiness and take the necessary steps to rid yourself of it.

Message(s) from the Ancestors: Whip & Heart - 'Sacrifice' & 'Love' -> Whip: "Everyone must pay. Nothing worthwhile or lasting was ever achieved by simply wanting it to be ours...sacrifice and work move things further than desire alone." Love: "There is an infinite supply of love for us to draw on, whether from platonic or romantic relationships, living or dead...but if we often lose ourselves in the need to nurture others, hiding in them to avoid being in ourselves...we must learn to love ourselves so deeply we find joy in solitude instead of heartbreak."

Final Messages:

"What is past is gone, what is hoped for is absent, for you is the hour for which you are."

"Wisdom outweighs strength."

"A snake that you can see does not bite."

"You cannot blindfold a man and expect him to ferry you across the river."

"Whoever stands in the need of honey should not be afraid of bees."

~additional messages: unexpected good fortune, generosity, possible travel, changes, postponement, disappointment and opposition

**PROVERBS 15:13 and DANIEL 10:6 for some of you**

PILE II

Okana Oracle: Grit & Confide, Grandma's Baby Lenormand: Rider rx & Clouds, Tarot; Page of swords, Queen of wands, 9 of cups, 7 of swords rx, & ace of wands Rx

The month of February is going to be very abundant for you pile 2. I see you socializing and being so vibrant and free, being the talk of the town. I'm getting 'social butterfly'. This month is going to be raining down blessings for you with the 9oc here. I see you filled with so much gratitude and happiness. Wishes will be coming true for you in the month of February; whatever you have been wishing for, praying for, hoping for, it will come true. I see you getting that dream job, dream car, dream house. Whatever you've been wishing for, you will be receiving it this month. Some of you could be starting a new project or job, and I see you being so excited about it. You have this eager, 'go getter' energy.

With the QoW here, a feminine figure could be significant for some you. This person could be mature, or just has a lot experience and wisdom under their belt. Who knows how to work a room, use their charm and charisma to achieve their goals. I see this person being some sort of a mentor figure to you this month. Someone that will help you harness this vibrant, off the walls energy that you may have. I see you shadowing this person, soaking up all the knowledge that she has to offer. *Be sure to take head from whatever advice this person gives you*

For some of you, there could be some snakes in your mists. In the month of February you may find yourself being on the receiving end of a lot of 'evil eye'. I see you being highly favored in the month of February, and with that comes with a lot of jealousy and attempts at sabotage. You may end up encountering a lot two-faced people; those who smile in your face but are quick to pray and revel in your downfall. Some of you may be up for promotion or have been promoted - BE CAREFUL. Be wary of those who are quick to befriend and try to get into your circle. It's like that saying 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' - that is the mentality of these haters toward you. Just know that secrets don't stay buried and will eventually come to light. Karma never misses, so whatever these potential sabotagers have planned will back fire. You are protected by the Divine and your Ancestors.

The month of February, some of you may find yourself consumed with the drive to get something started. There may be an idea/project that you are trying to get off the ground to this point where you are obsessing over it. You are trying and trying and becoming more and more frustrated because it's not going the way you planned. With the ace of wands rx, you are being called to take a break. Step away from the idea/project and allow yourself to breathe. When we are so hyper focused on something, it can become easy for use to become consumed by to the point where we forget why we started said project/idea; and in some instances lose our passion fro what we do. That's why in moments of frustration we need to take a step back, put on pause on things. If this resonates, Spirit is prompting you to take a look out where you are, how far you've come, and remember why you started. Stop and smell the roses. Allow yourself to look at it from a different perspective.

For others, there could be a whole idea that you abandoned completely because it never got off the ground, someone may have told you that idea is not good, or maybe you felt like it could never be. Maybe it's time to revisit that project/idea from a new, fresher lens.

Shadow Message: Grit & Confide - Grit: "when a needle falls into a well many people will look into the well, but very few will go down after it" -> Take a look at yourself this month and ask yourself 'Am I biting off more than I can chew?', 'Am I involving myself in projects or places that do not pertain to me?', 'If I am doing all these things: why?' If you find yourself spiraling or just taking on so much, unnecessarily, maybe it's time to take a step back from it. It's good to have drive to have that grit/conviction but not to the point where it is at your own detriment. It can be easy, being caught up in 'the grind' and all but we also have to remember to take breaks; Confide: "all things are good to eat, but not all things are good to say" -> February is looking to be an abundant month for you, but remember to not get caught up in the high. You may be on the receiving end gossip, but try not to perpetuate the same behaviors as your haters. If find yourself engaging gossip with others ask yourself 'Is it true?', 'Is it kind?', 'Are these people doing the same thing to me behind my back?', 'Will they go back an twist my words to said person?', 'Why are they trying to get me involved gossip to begin with?'. Remember: Karma. Never. Misses.

Message(s) from the Ancestors: Rider rx & Clouds - 'Intention' & 'Denial' -> Rider rx: "Don't be hasty, Baby. Before taking action, we must be clear on our intention. And be certain our actions align with that intention." Clouds: "Clouds can be information that is hidden and outcomes that are uncertain...we must know truth before we know miracles, and what is before we know what can be."

Final Messages:

"Not to know is bad, to not wish to know is worse."

"Fire surrounded by elders cannot burn you."

"Luck at times will visit a fool, but it never sits down with him."

"Truth cannot be hidden forever beneath evil."

"He who wakes up early in the morning receives bundle of blessings."

~additional messages: good luck coming to you, harmony, property, achievement, love, dark-haired woman who is strong, helpful and attractive, warning of loss of friendship

**EXODUS 24:15 for some of you**

PILE III

Okana Oracle: Harmony & Reconcile, Grandma Baby Lenormand: Fish & Mice, Tarot: 10 of swords, 2 of cups, Knight of wands, 5 of pentacles rx, ace of swords rx

Are some of you in a relationship, pile 3? Or is there someone on your mind? Cause with the 2oc here there is a potential for love to blossom for you in the month of February. You could have met this person or will meet this person and you guys hit right off the bat. The knight of wands indicates that you and this person will 'click' so fast, and so unexpectedly. This person could be a fire sign; they could be someone who is vibrant, and has a lot of energy and passion to them. They could be 'go-getter', someone who acts before they thinks, who likes to dive into things head-first. And it doesn't necessarily have to be a romance either. This could be someone who you will end up having a genuine bond and connection with. This person could be a bit of foil to you if you are more on the shy side, or this is someone who will match your energy.

Some of you may have dealt with betrayal in the past, like been backstabbed by a person/people that you've trusted. This has possibly resulted you in having trust issues, you questioning the motives of those who try to get close to you. This connection coming in is going to help you heal those wounds. This connection coming is someone you can trust and they are going to prove that to you. They will be patient with you. Maybe this person coming in has probably dealt with same thing, and this connection will be healing for both of you.

For others of you, you may have fallen on hard times in the past pile 3. Some of you may have dealt with a lot of spiritual warfare. What I mean by that, is that you may have been feeling empty spiritually. Doubting your religion, your ancestors, spirit guides, or even the concept of spirituality itself. *With everything that has been going on in the world, I can understand* Maybe you've hanging on to this concept of religion or spirituality in hopes it will make your life better because that's what you've been told, only to be met with disappointment after disappointment. Maybe recently you've had one too many disappointments and began to question yourself: 'Am I doing something wrong?' 'Why isn't working?' 'Am I just playing myself for a fool?'

I see you starting to come back to that pile 3, because you can't ignore the call forever. I see rekindling your relationship with the Divine, with God, your Ancestors, whomever you believe in. That tarot deck that you've put away? You're dusting off and getting back into the swing of things. That altar that you abandoned, walked away from? I see resetting it and familiarizing yourself with your guides, with your gifts. And honestly, sometimes walking away is needed pile 3. It's okay to take a break for a while, reconnect with yourself, ground yourself, and find your way back to it eventually.

Shadow Message: Harmony & Reconcile - Harmony: "where there is life, there is always hope" -> You could be dealing with bouts of loss or despair in February. Have you lost all hope of being happy? Content? Have you lost hope in ever being able to trust again? Have you become a glass half-empty, glass half-full kind of person? It's time to confront those doubts, pile 3. Time to challenge those negative beliefs you've become accustomed to. Make the effort of bringing harmony and positivity back into your life; Reconcile: "love yourself for only then can you love others" -> It is time to heal pile 3. Heal those wounds. Hanging onto that hurt is giving the person who hurt you more power over you. What is something you have trouble letting go of? Is it the betrayal? The backstabbing? Is it becomes you should have saw it coming? Are you ready to let it go? Are you ready to move on?

Message(s) from the Ancestors: Fish & Mice - 'Gifts' & 'Fear' -> Fish: "If we give birth to what is within us, what is within us will save us. If we do not give birth to what is within us, what is within us will destroy us." Mice: "If we feed fear, we will be eaten alive."

Final Messages:

"You can kill the identity of a man on earth, but you cannot kill his spirit."

"Respect begets respect."

"Even as the archer loves the arrow that flies, so too he loves the bow that remains in his hands."

"The path to wisdom is a lifelong commitment."

"It is the one who lives in the house that knows where the roof leaks."

~additional messages: friendship, success, business meetings, reliable friend, conflict, love, affair, worry and fear

**JONAH 1:17 for some of you**

That's all I have for you! Thanks for reading! Stay safe, stay blessed!

Asé

#tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #pick a card #black tarot reader

[insilanar]

Any lestappen fic rec to share ? 😣 Any favourite author on ao3! I need some!

Hi anon 😘 Of course! In fact I've actually been working on a personal fic rec, so I'm glad I get to share it with you!

Here you go, hope you enjoy <3

Lestappen fic rec

Short-ish fics 🩵

control systems a College AU by @itsgoingdutchin2021 | 1.2 k

Summary:

Due to an unfortunate encounter in their freshman year, both Charles and Max hate each other. Then they are assigned a group project.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

your hands are cold a High School AU by dhufflebee | 3.9 k

Summary:

“I feel like this event should really be called ‘Frosty Fusion’ or something like that.”“That is, of course, incredibly stupid.”“Hey!”“It doesn’t mean that ‘Snowmen Competition’ isn’t the most boring name ever, though.”OR: long-time friends and rivals Charles and Max hail from neighboring schools, and brave the biting cold, the challenges of snow sculpture, and their own buried feelings

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Kiss It Goodbye (Your Little Panic Attack) F1 Fic by @celientjeee | 5.1 k

Summary:

‘What- How did you do that?’ Charles asked, he still felt a bit shaken and hot, but the tingling had disappeared.Max smiled at him and let his hands drop away from Charles’ cheeks.‘I once read that holding your breath could stop a panic attack and when I kissed you, you held your breath.’‘I did?’ Charles winced at how high his voice sounded. OR: Charles gets a panic attack and Max helps him (more than once)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics between 10 k and 20 k 🧡

Cheating at Bingo and Other Christmas Traditions a Cozy Winter AU by @wanderingblindly | 12.4 k

Summary:

"You know, there’s a very nice, very handsome young man in my neighborhood –” She starts back up, flagging down their waiter for another glass of wine.“Absolutely not,” He cuts her off with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Next topic.”“So you’re too good for him, is that it?” She sounds defensive, but her tone still has a mocking edge to it – emphasized by the quirk of her brows.Hardly holding back a groan, Charles tries to think of a way out of this. She’s like a cat, batting at him until he gives up, rolls over, and plays dead. “That’s not – I’m just busy, and it’s –” OR: Hallmark style fluff featuring an irritated Charles, a well-meaning Max, and the grandma that just wants them to kiss

Rating: General Audiences

<3

Golden Hour a Uni AU by Chariots4 | 13.2 k

Summary:

Max is a great roommate. So great that when Lando asks him to be part of a music video he’s filming he does so, without asking what it will be about.Turns out he will have to model with no other than Charles Leclerc. As lovers. The two men’s desire to not be outdone by the other takes the whole thing to new levels.

Rating: Explicit

-> This is also a personal favorite of mine since it was my first ever Formula 1 RPF fic and honestly, it's written amazingly well!👌

<3

oui chef a Chef AU by @sunshineyoujustwait | 16.2 k

Summary:

There’s someone standing in his kitchen.He looks young, maybe close to Max’s age, with messy dark brown hair that’s pulled back from his face by a red bandana, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s supposed to be here.Max’s first rather unhelpful thought is; fuck, he’s gorgeous. His second, more reasonable thought is;“Who the fuck are you?”“Charles Leclerc,” the man smiles. It's a little bit dazzling and Max is not at all distracted by it. He extends his hand for Max to shake. “I’m your new executive sous chef.” OR: Max is very happy with his life, thank you very much. He has his restaurant, his team, and two Michelin stars at the age of 24. He definitely does not need some pretentious Monegasque chef coming in and throwing everything into chaos.Except, maybe he does.

Rating: General Audiences

<3

you got me a College AU by @fueledbyremembering | 16.6 k

Summary:

When Max looks up he stares into pretty green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. His hand is still blindly feeling around to find the books—his brain lagging—as he stares at the guy from last night. He straightens up and Max follows, staring dumbly as he holds out the books for Max to take.“Thanks,” Max says, feeling like an idiot as he takes the books, their fingers brushing for a split second. This was not how he wanted to meet again. “Again, I’m so sorry.”The guy smiles and Max thinks he might just die a little when he notices he has dimples. Of course he has dimples. OR: Max falls head over heels for the cute guy at a college party and he can't stop thinking about him (aka the lestappen college au nobody needs).

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics above 30 k ❤

Late night devil put your hands on me a Thief/Detective AU by @f1-giuki | 42.1 k

Summary:

"Do you want to know what is more incredible?" Max asks, staring at Charles' full and round pecs without any shame. "What?" Charles asks, enjoying how Max's cheeks get redder and redder as he licks clean the fork. "Stealing the Nine Pieces of Eight, with me," Max says and Charles drops his fork in the plate. "The Nine pieces of eight? Isn't that like a legend? The owner of those artworks is unknown…" The Monegasque asks, furrowing his brows. Max grins and rolls his eyes. "I know a guy..." Max says, pulling Charles close by the elastic band of his boxers. OR: World-class thief Max Verstappen asks Interpol Detective Charles Leclerc out on a date (to put on the world's most complicated heist ever conceived) but things never go as planned.

Rating: Mature

<3

To Your Heart’s Content a Mafia AU by @cornerofacry | 119.4 k

Summary:

Max pinched the bridge of his nose as he went into the car. Before his chauffeur could close the door, however, Daniel leant in, having rushed from the bar’s entrance."I forgot to tell you…" the Australian begun, his face serious and grave.Max gritted his teeth, silently nodding for the man to continue. He couldn’t stand much more. He wanted to scream at the entire world. To run home and hide and force some sense down his own throat.To put himself back together."I left a- a gift at your house. For your birthday… I planned it long ago, before-""Alright," Max cut him, short and harsh. OR: Charles, a high end prostitute, finds himself in the arms of a man who really, really, cares for him, despite the gun on his nightstand.

Rating: Explicit

<3

Favorite lestappen authors 💕

NovaCloud, Richardmarie75, WanderingBlindly, xxcelientje, amarynas, charlescoded, LestappenForever, linearity

Note to the authors: If your fic is on here and you would like me to take it down I will. Feel free to just dm me about it or drop and ask 😌

And anon I hope you find something you like on this list!

#anon ask #lestappen fic rec #charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen #f1

[bu-blegh-ost]

A short essay about how Caspian is mathematically not a mole (ep. 115 spoilers) (and for the whole series for that matter)

Okay, alright guys, I saw your concerns. I saw it all, and you are right to be worried that your favourite blue wet man's blue and equally wet best friend may turn out to be a traitor. And so am I, trust me. Which is why I went through every single bit of Caspian's past I could dig out to create an unltimate timeline of his entire goddamn life to see it it'd be plausible for him to become a mole at any point in time and ultimately prove his innocence! If that's something you're interested in reading, then buckle up!

"Jay, you come from a division of soliders that were purposely put to infiltrate pirate crews, especially the new and upcoming ones. This is totally seperate from the Black-Ops situation that you learned about in the Stronghold. And you, in this book, can tell that there is a plant on Lizzie's crew."

This, of course is something I need to point out first. Whoever Lizzie's mole might be, they are not a doppelganger. They are not a clone, or Black-Ops, just a solider of the Navy, a person that must have gotten into the Navy via regular recruitment, be trained by them and then put into a spy division. Jay ofc had this entire process sped up, due to her grandma's influence, but no one other than her, especially an Undersea citizen, who would probably have to put in extra effort to be trusted given their shaky political situation few years back, would get the same treatment. What I'm trying to say, Caspian would need time, at least few years of training to become a mole they'd trust to infiltrate a crew, and not just any crew might I add. More on that later. Let's go back to his most early years for now. This is a fragment of episode 84 in which Caspian talks to Gillion abt his early life:

C: We all have family. I consider my life up here, this crew to be my found family. But my previous…tribe with the water genasi in the Undersea, where I was growing up…sort of in a [illegible]... remember me telling you about the outskirts? We um…was very nomadic, quite a, quite a peaceful, tranquil life, but it was always, you know…mixed with this life of poverty and my family wasn’t very…wouldn’t really have much but the water around us, and each other, I suppose, so uh…You know...I mean my mother didn’t make it past old age, and uh…

G: I’m sorry…

C: When my sister left the tribe, my father sort of fell into a depression of sorts and he stopped moving around. And when we stayed in one place, I was 18 or so, maybe 16, it was a while ago, and then…that’s when I left as well. Ventured to the Oversea, and um…and it’s history, so that’s my family. Not sure what they’re up to these days, I mean…I know my sister went to the capital, where you were.

G: Pirating is a pretty lucrative business, maybe if…we managed to find them or run into them, we can give something back, put them in a better situation.

C: …Well um…I mean this was 10-15, 10 to 12 to 15 years ago, quite some, quite some time, so I don’t even know if my father is alive still, I mean I don’t really have the desire to go back to the undersea, Gill.

G: Wha-why not?

C: Because I like my life up here. This is where I’m happy.

So, before we go to what all of that entails, one more quick crazy thing to mention: so, Caspian's sister is an Elder of the Undersea. Like for sure. This is confirmed by this part from ep. 79:

The Triton who you remember as the Elder Odolaf, who looks like he is about to speak, but is cut off by the water genasi, who has been doing a lot of talking thus far, who is Elder Celeste. They stand up and there is a familiarity that you notice now in their face. It’s like you have met them before, but not in the way that you know them because they are the Elder, but in a way that it’s like, they look like somebody you know. And she has sort of these uh, white tied-up like dreads that are tied up in like a bun and they come across the face and then one side is shaved. And there are beads and piercings in her hair, her ears are a little bit more sea elf-like in the way that they are pointed and they kind of like gradient into pink. They all kind of wear the same sort of ornate robes, though hers is more, I guess faded and like cut a bit, look a bit more warriorous, or like tribal, but still very well-made and professional.

Tribal clothing, a water genasi, that looks like someone Gillion saw before in the face. The only water genasi Gillion met after leaving the Undersea is Caspian. Elder Celeste is Caspian's sister. Wild. Anyway, not what we're here for, but I needed to mention that.

The crazier thing is that Caspian left to Oversea when he was 16-18, and it has been 10-15 years since then. That means Caspian is currently 26 at possible youngest, and 33 at his oldest, which was surprising to me, I did not imagine Caspian as a man in his 30s! But that's straight up facts, so holy shit, you know?

Okay, so I'm going to list a lot of small facts that determine a lot of ages in quick succession. I hope it's not gonna be too scary to look at, I'll simplify it all at the end. [Deep inhale]

Right now Gillion is 22. So when Caspian left the Undersea, Gillion was 12-7. Jay is 21 and Ava was 2 years older, same age as Lizzie. So Lizzie is 23 now. When Caspian left the Undersea, she was 13-8. Chip is 19, so Lizzie is 4 years older. Hole in the Sea happened when Chip was 9, so Lizzie was 13. So Caspian left the Undersea around the same time Lizzie crashed on the uninhabited island with Chey after the Hole.

It's a lot, I know, I know. So let me clear this up a little.

Hole in the sea was 10 years ago. Chip was 9, Lizzie was 13. 10 years ago Caspian was in the age between 16 and 23, and he left the Undersea when he was 16 or 18. So roughly at the same time the Black Sea happened, Caspian came to the surface for the first time.

(also pls note that we are talking in estimates, casue in ep. 36 Lizzie says she was 11 when the hole happened, but in ep. 101 she says she was the same age as Ava which by the power of math would put her at 13. Either way, somewhere around that age)

After that, Lizzie spend some time on an uninhabited island with Chey, the Black Rose cook, who sacrificed herself for Liz, so she could survive and died shortly after. We do not know how much time passed, but I assume no longer than few months, and after that she was saved by Captain Shadowbeard where she met Caspian. They were a part of Shadowbeard's crew, Caspian saved her from the massacre where Shadowbeard was killed, and then Lizzie went on to create her own crew, Grandberry Pirates with Caspian never leaving her for a second since he met her. That means that the only time Caspian could have joined the Navy would be RIGHT after he came to the Oversea for the first time, roughly at the same time Lizzie was stranded on an island, and in that short period of time (between Lizzie's crash on the island and her being found by Shadowbeard) he would have to find the time to be trusted and accepted by Navy, get trained specifically for infiltration AND infiltrate not anyones BUT FUCKING SHADOWBEARD'S SHIP. Not a NEW crew. A crew of one of the most legendary pirates on the sea. Cause before Lizzie, Caspian was Sadowbeard's crew member, and since then he never stopped being a pirate, so if he was a solider, he would have had to be one before Shadowbeard. And remeber what Grizzly said in 115: "Jay, you come from a division of soliders that were purposely put to infiltrate pirate crews, especially the new and upcoming ones."

Shadowbeard was not new. Not upcoming. He was dangerous and Navy must have had the balls of steal to send a rookie solider, which Caspian would have been at that point in time, to infiltrate him. The numbers say it's impossible. Guys, the numbers! They don't add up!

Anyway, so basically Caspian could not be a mole. He is not a new pirate, he was not a member of a fresh crew, becaue his pirate journey did not start with Lizzy, it started with Shadowbeard. Grandberry Pirates is a new crew, but Caspian is not a newbie in it. You know who is? Rudith. I mean what kind of doctor lets a bunch of rowdy pirates have a secret base under a place where sick and vulnerable rest??? Like ANY other place would have been better and more respectful! Also you know what's interesting? Gillion could heal these people with lay on hands easily, and yet the only thing Rudith did for them was give them potions that didn't seem to help and look after them on purely non-medical level. Bro didn't do shit. Like, why would you even become a doctor without having access to healing magic? The answer, you are not. You are a Navy solider in disguise.

Okay, okay, I'm done, that's all. If you got this far, you are a hero, thank you for reading this insanely long ramble, but that's kind of the conclusions that I came to, of course, any counter-theories and discussion in general is very much welcome! I'd love to hear your opinions! Love you guys, bye~

#jrwi riptide #just roll with it #jrwi #gillion jrwi #gillion tidestrider #caspian jrwi #jrwi caspian #elizabeth lafayette #lizzie jrwi #riptide spoilers #spoilers #jrwi spoilers

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

(cw: mentions of losing a close family member)

König doesn’t really know how to cook.

Well, anything other than the basics… Most of his meals consist of rice, meat and some kind of vegetable. Or like a carton of eggs. And of course, he can warm up meals and cook pasta and put pesto on it. But working in the military his whole life, he never really had the need to learn to prepare something to eat other than those basics, because most of the meals were provided and he’ll eat any- and everything. When he’s on leave, he cycles through his staples and also orders a lot of take-out, just to satisfy the calorie intake he needs at his size.

His grandma used to cook for him, ever since he was a little boy and then when he returned to Austria as an adult, she always made sure to prepare his favourite meals. He hasn’t been back ever since her funeral, he tells me while he gets some ingredients out of the fridge. Eggs, milk and butter. He misses her and her cooking, but that’s just how it is in life. Flour from the pantry. Mixing it all together, eyeballing the measurements, and adding a pinch of salt.

She taught him how to make Palatschinken. Thin pancake or crepe-like sheets of dough that he apparently made too much of. Rolled up, filled with jam and powdered sugar on top.

“Pala- what?”, I ask, wanting him to teach me how to say the word properly.

“Pa-la-tschin-ke.”, he repeats, sounding the syllables out, and I imitate them, until he tells me that I’ve got it.

I sit at the cooking island in his kitchen, on one of the chairs, and watch him pour the thin dough into the hot buttered pan. It bubbles and sizzles as he swirls it around, until the whole bottom is covered. Waiting for it to be cooked from one side. He lifts the edges with a spatula to make sure. Then he looks at me, raising his brows, like ‘Look at me, look what I can do’, lifting the pan of the hob, holding it in front of his body.

Oh, oh, that won’t- He flips it with a rehearsed flick of his wrist, the thin pancake rotating in the air for just a moment, then landing in the pan again.

I coo, clapping excitedly. He bows jokingly, with the pan still in his hand.

When it’s done, he puts the Palatschinke on a plate, spreads apricot jam on the thin dough, rolls it up and then sprinkles powdered sugar over it, setting the sweet roll in front of me. Gesturing me to eat.

I dig in, cutting it, and the fluffy dough almost melts on my tongue, the sweet jam spreading in my mouth as I chew. God damn it, that’s good. Simple, but very tasty. I finish the first one in record time and he puts the next Palatschinke on my plate. I fill it myself, devouring that one as well. He starts to make more, stacking them on a separate plate.

“You wanna try to make one as well?”, he asks me then.

I nod excitedly and get up from the stool. He hands me the pan and the ladle, putting some more butter onto the hot teflon, and I add the dough. When it’s cooked through, I try to do the flip just like he did. The little crepe flops up a bit and then folds in on itself. I burst into laughter and he joins in. Well, that didn’t go as planned.

“Don’t worry, that happened to me a lot of times.”, he says, scrapping the dough into the bin. “We’ll try again.”

So, the same spiel again. Until the Palatschinke is ready to be flipped. He’s standing behind me, we’re both gripping the handle of the pan and he’s looking over my shoulder, coaching me through it.

“Mit Gefühl.”, he tells me. “Carefully, but with determination.”

“I wanted to flip this thing, not get a lecture on how to enter some-“, I quip, but I get cut off when he playfully pinches my butt cheek.

It makes me jump up a bit and I bat his hand away. “König!”, I yelp, with pretend indignation, but he only grins down at me.

“Come on, you can do it.”, he says, nudging the pan in my hand.

“On three. One, two, three!”, I count down and then we flip it, together. The piece of dough rotates in the air and lands in the pan again.

“First authentically self-made Palatschinke.”, he says, with joking solemnity, as he drops it onto my plate. I do the rest of the steps and then eat it as well.

He makes Palatschinke after Palatschinke, telling me some more about his grandma and the dishes she used to cook, until all of the dough is gone. I listen to him and eat a whole bunch of them until I’m so full, I feel like I’m gonna burst. He finishes the rest of the thin pancakes, decimating a whole stack of them with lots of jam and sugar.

“The rest we can cut into small strips and put into soup.”, he explains.

“Into soup?!”, I question what he just said.

“Yes, Frittatensuppe. It’s really delicious.”, he says like it’s a normal thing.

I shake my head. Those Austrians and their weird dishes.

If you wanna try and make your own Palatschinken like metalhead!könig and reader, I got a recipe for you! Enjoy! a/n: this is the start of a little series I'm doing for mh!k x reader because I have so many scenes (some already finished a while ago like this one) that don't have a certain place in the plot and are just sitting in my word document, left to rot, so i'm gonna post them as their own random scenes that are still connected to them! some of it is gonna be sfw comfort fluff like this one, some is gonna be nsfw - stay tuned <3 Wanna get to know them better? Find more chapters in the Masterlist

#metalhead!könig #spending time with mh!k #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

[veetyuh]

I'm reminded of that "antishipping isn't purity culture because it isn't conservative christianity" post... And I think I've done some unpacking on why it triggers me so much.

I was an intersex child shoved into the role of a female, in a rural & conservative Christian environment. I've had not just purity culture shoved down my throat, but also the shame of not being able to meet the expectations put on women in that environment.

It's not just cover up, slut. That implies I had something to show off, to begin with. And men still want to ogle you and imagine what your body is like beneath that modest dress. So here, literal child. Have this shapewear to make your figure conform to that of a developing middle school female's under your clothes.

It's contradictory that way. You have to try to be unappealing to not 'tempt' men, but you still need to be appealing in the sense of conventional female attractiveness. Moreover, you must not think about men or sex at all. But you cannot be asexual — your parents demand grandchildren.

Antis do the same with their queer representation. It's the same contradictory expectations... They champion the idea of breaking societal norms through queerness (i.e. the idea of 'queer as in fuck you'), then demand that every nuclear family norm be met. Queer characters must be disruptive without actually disrupting anything. And the contradictions apply to fans, too — you're homophobic if you don't like a canon queer ship, and you're fetishistic if you like queer ships too much. (There are more, but I'd be stuck here forever if I listed them all. 😅)

There's also the obvious — fictional sins being as bad as things done in real life. There's Matthew 5, which includes so many popular verses about thought control that Christians use, and equates bad thought to bad doing.

27 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ 28 But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. 29 If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. 30 And if your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell.

And fuck if antis aren't cutting off their entire goddamn arm and gouging out both eyes.

It's not just purity culture they embody, though — it's the satanic panic, too. Good lord the amount of times my grandma wouldn't let me watch Ghost Hunters because she thought I was welcoming demons into the home, or her concern for me watching horror movies because I'd surely become more violent. It's the same shit, different horse.

On a more light-hearted note, they play the same game that Christian demoninations do, too. I was Baptist, and considered the Methodists okay. But the Catholics? No, keep that shit away from me. Why are you worshipping Mary? That's idolatry! How horrible, to openly spit in God's face. When I read antis' DNI lists rattling off forbidden, unredeemable fandoms, it feels the same way, haha.

But what really seals the deal for me is how they smile in your face and promise they're just looking out for you. Christians do that, too. "We want you to get better. We want to help you. You're on a dark path." While they break your bones to force you into their mold. You may not be hurting anyone on your dark path, but they'll convince you that you ARE. You're hurting yourself "spiritually," you're hurting the community, your family, by being an abomination to God. You're hurting everyone and yourself, you just need us to help you realize it. Antis feel the exact same. I block them pre-emptively because I cannot handle having that shit directed at me again.

Moreover, their insults feel the same. The childish "icky," the ad hominems. It's too reminiscent for me. Of my mom hating my icky facial hair and my classmates making fun of my masc traits when they thought I couldn't hear; you are a gross person!!1! Ew!!!

It's funny that antis are so often anti-kink, considering they're so fucking intent on giving me a golden shower and telling me it's rain. I hope they're careful not to choke on the homophobic, pedophilic pastor cock they're sucking.

#proship #excuse my rambling

[catastrophichues]

smth that like. i end up thinking abt a lot is the way vil is a character whose in-game experiences are really mirrored by a big chunk of the way fandom treats him.

vils beauty is smth that he’s been villainized for his entire life. he’s too beautiful, too gorgeous, and in the minds of many, that automatically equates to things like “mean/evil/cruel.” as if his beauty = villain

and that perception is one he struggles with. no one lets him play the role of hero bc a lot of the time, a hero is someone the audience roots for and relates to. but no one can “relate” to vil bc his beauty others him. neige has a beauty that is innocent but also attainable. that’s what makes him the perfect hero. for some reason, it’s almost unfathomable to most that someone beautiful who also cares about being beautiful could be smth other than a “mean girl” or a villain.

and the thing is, vil does care abt beauty! and that’s okay! valuing beauty is not inherently evil, and the way fanon (and when I say fanon, i obviously don’t mean everyone, there’s also a lot of ppl who see vil and actually understand the complexities of his character) twists that to “forcing his standard upon others” is honestly wrong. vil holds himself to such a high standard, but the “standard” he’s holding others too is being the best versions of themselves they could be.

his correcting epel on language usage is literally not smth sinister or classist. the EN translation didnt get the translation accurate. correcting epel was literally abt being aware that not many would be able to understand epel if he continued to speak in that dialect, and in other cases, seen as rude. he was preparing epel for future opportunities and circumstances. epels grandma literally switches her way of speaking when meeting the boys at Harveston, so it’s not smth that’s got zero precedent.

and in cases where vil is believed to be envious of others beauty it’s like—who doesn’t feel jealous at times? he mentions being a little jealous that silver does nothing with his hair and yet it’s so fine. that’s understandable! vil is someone who puts work in his beauty. he doesn’t just coast on what’s already there he exercises. he cut out mayo even tho he loved it bc he ended up breaking out. he holds himself to strict food regimens. he makes beauty products. so like-this envy? it’s healthy, he expresses it, and then he gifts silver self-made hair and skin products. bc his envy doesn’t manifest as wanting others to be less than him. it manifests as appreciation and wanting to see improvement. bc!! he’s a good person!!

ive seen fics and content where it’s like “he values beauty/his figure over the lives of others.” my dudes. this man literally sacrificed his youth and beauty to save idia/close the underworld. “Oh but he regretted it! and he got it back!” yeah he cried his heart out who WOULDN’T! and as for getting it back—learning a lesson or making sacrifices shouldn’t always hinge on like whether or not the character makes these sacrifices continues to suffer or whatever. like redemption (even tho he rlly doesn’t need to be redeemed) doesn’t only become valid if someone suffers or if suffering is constant.

vil gets relegated to roles like “the bitchy ex” or the “mean girl” or someone who is constantly cruel and vain and a bully when that’s literally the antithesis of what vil is.

so for that, i really really appreciate the content creators who write fic or make art where vil as a character is more than the villain he tries so hard not to be.

#vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland #neige leblanche #silver vanrouge #twst vil #epel felmier #twst epel #disney twst

[austonwithan-o]

Summer Job- Trevor Zegras x Reader

After a certain boy walks into your hair salon. How could you say no to him asking you on a date? I mean customer satisfaction right?

——————————————————————————

No warnings!

You had just recently moved to Bedford, NY to live with your grandparents. They offered for you to live with them during the summers when it was too expensive for you to fly back to Portland where your parents lived. Attending NYU completely on scholarship you didn’t have time for a job during the school year. You did cut hair on the side for some of your friends and they paid you some which covered some weekend excursions but nothing too crazy. Little did you know that side hustle would lead to you meeting the love of your life.

Sitting in your bed you scrolled through job listings, a lot of grocery stores, gas stations, target, fast food places were hiring but nothing really caught your eye. Annoyed you closed your laptop letting out a groan.

“I refuse to work at McDonald’s mom. I’m not coming home smelling like fries and grease and it’s a whole 40 minute drive from here! There’s literally nothing interesting here.” You were annoyed with the sparse selection of employment available and despite your obvious disappointment your mom let out a laugh much to your dismay.

“Honey I know you don’t wanna come home smelling like a fast food place but you’re gonna have to choose something. Plus it’s just for the summer! Just like what, 2 months? You can survive 2 months y/n or here maybe ask grandma and grandpa if they have any friends who have businesses. They know a lot of people around there.” Her voice rang through the speaker phone on your nightstand, it wasn’t a horrible idea, your grandparents did have a great reputation in the town and a lot of friends.

“Hmm you’re not wrong?” You said picking up your phone, “I’m gonna go talk to them it’s dinner time anyways.”

“Alright sweetie I love you! Have a goodnight and keep me updated on the job hunt.”

“Will do momma! Love you too!” Hanging up and making your way downstairs the smell of your grandmas food was heavenly. You loved it here.

“Oh perfect! I was just about to call you down!”

Your grandpa said pulling a chair out for you to sit. You smiled and thanked him as he pushed it in.

“So grandpa I was on the phone with mom, looking for jobs with her and I was wondering if you knew anyone who would be willing to hire me for the summer? I mean there’s fast food and restaurants and stuff but I just thought maybe you’d have more, I guess, connections around here?” Taking a bite of the chicken on your plate. There was a few seconds of silence before your grandma spoke.

“You know I actually do know someone who’s hiring but are you good with hair? My friend Carla has a hair studio 10 minutes into town and she’s looking for another employee.”

Bingo.

“I can cut hair! I have a little side hustle at school cutting hair for like $10. I mean I’m not professional but I’m definitely not bad at it. I can also style and dye hair too!” This was the perfect job you thought plus the tips would be great!

“Her name is Carla! I’m going in tomorrow to get my hair trimmed. I’ll introduce you to her, she’s such a sweet lady!” Your grandma said, “We will leave around 11? My appointment is at 11:15 and I like getting there a bit early.”

You agreed. After dinner you spent a few hours playing cards and chatting with your grandparents eventually heading up to your room.

You woke up around 10:30am a little tired from staying up watching hair tutorials refreshing your memory on how to cut hair but you didn’t need much reminding.

You showered, got dressed and ran downstairs grabbing the keys to your old Jeep.

“Grandma I’ll drive!” You exclaimed rushing out the door.

“Alrighty I’ll be there in a second.”

The drive was peaceful. Driving through the colorful country you couldn’t help but admire how nice and green everything around you was. Your thoughts were interrupted by your grandma.

“I don’t know if you watch hockey at all but Carla has a little bit of a celebrity customer you know.” She smiled, “I’ve met him before his name is Trevor Zegras. He’s a hockey player. I’m not sure which team but he’s a cutie. Maybe you’ll get to cut his hair.” She shot you a wink making you roll your eyes.

“Ah yes grandma I definitely need a hot hockey player boyfriend to distract me all summer.”

“He’s a very charming young man! I bet you two would hit it off!” You laughed at her statement. A relationship was definitely the last thing on your mind for the summer. Making friends? That would be fun but definitely no boyfriend.

“Grandma you know I don’t need a boyfriend. I mean especially since I would just be leaving to school in a few months.”

“You never know y/n! People come into your life for different reasons.”

You smiled at her words but it was true. You didn’t want a summer fling. It wasn’t your style. If you were gonna date someone it was going to be serious and having a hockey boyfriend was definitely not on your list of things you needed.

You arrived at the hair salon. The sign displayed on top read, “Bedford Village Hair Design” it was a cute little shop. You could see a few workers at their stations and a few customers in the chairs. You both walked in hearing the chime of the bells, “Alice! Good to see you! You’re a bit early but I’ll just get you started over here-“ the woman who you assumed to be Carla gave you a wide smile.

“And who might you be?” She asked pulling you into a hug.

“Carla this is my granddaughter y/n! She’s staying with me for the summer and I brought her here to introduce her to you! She’s looking for a summer job and I think she would be perfect for your salon!” She said as she sat down in the seat, you followed close behind the two, standing beside Carla.

“Well I definitely wouldn’t be apposed! Can you cut men’s hair? I have more and more male clients coming in and I need more help around here!” Carla spoke trimming away at your grandmas hair. She was definitely not new to this.

“Yes! I cut my guy friends hair all the time in school. It’s like a little side hustle so I can make some money during the year.” You explained.

“You know what that sounds great! If you want just swing by tomorrow let’s say around 9:30am and you can start if that’s okay with you? I have someone coming in at 9:45am who you can do. He’s very sweet.”

“That sounds awesome! Thank you so much!”

You waited in the corner for your grandma to be done her hair which took about 20 more minutes and with that you both left after.

The next morning you woke up throwing on a flowy floral dress trying to match the vibe of everyone’s outfits yesterday. You wanted to make a good first impression so you took your time with your hair and makeup. Rushing out the door it was 9:15 by the time you left luckily there’s never any traffic in the small town.

Walking inside the small business you were greeted by Carla and another worker Gracie. She was around Carla’s age and very very sweet as well.

“Hi you must be y/n!” She greeted you giving you a hug.

“Yes! It’s good to meet you?”

“Gracie! My name is Gracie! Well I’ll give you the heads up since you’re new I’m gonna let you take my regular client at 9:45 today. His name is Trevor! He’s very nice so don’t be intimidated and he will let you know how he wants his cut.” She said handing you an apron.

For some reason your heart dropped a bit but you didn’t know why. You hadn’t even met the guy let alone seen his face and already freaking out.

“Are you sure? I mean I can take someone else if you want-“

“Lovely don’t be silly! I insist don’t worry he won’t bite you! I’ll still be here I’ll just be organizing in the back and Carla will be in the front or back with me.” She said and with that the sound of the door opening and the bells jingling made you freeze in your place.

“Carla! Gracie! And new girl?” You shyly turned around to face him. His smiled was so bright and his eyes were so pretty. He walked over and gave Carla a hug all while scanning you up and down. He pulled away eventually giving you a firm handshake. His touch sending sparks up your arm, making butterflies form in your stomach.

Oh my God he was gorgeous.

“Trevor this is y/n! Y/n this is Trevor! She’s gonna be cutting your hair today Trevor.” Gracie said grabbing his hand. His eyes hadn’t left yours and you could sense the nervous energy radiating off of his tall figure. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair which fell perfectly back into place framing his chiseled features.

“Oh cool! I’ll get a buzzcut this time.” The two older women let out exaggerated gasps slapping his shoulder making him laugh.

“Hey I’m kidding! You know I’d never do that Carla.” You couldn’t help but laugh as well at their reaction. You were already loving this job and you’d been there for about 10 mins.

“Trevor the day you get a buzzcut is the day I officially quit my job.” She handed you a barbers gown and he followed your lead by sitting down in the chair letting you throw it over him securing it in the back. Your hands were shaking and he could feel it as you tied the back lightly brushing the back of his neck.

“Alright y/n let me know when you’re done, I’m going to help Gracie in the back. Trevor no buzzcuts.” She gave him another light slap on the shoulder and he shot her a wink. The two ladies walked off exchanged glances at the two of you.

“You can lean back and I’ll wash your hair first.” He followed your directions placing his head in the neck rest.

“I’ve been coming here for a long time and I’ve never seen you here or around here for that matter. Where you from?” Trevor asked looking at you. You refused to make eye contact with him because you knew you’d fold under his eye contact.

“I’m from Portland but I live here in the summer times and I go to school at NYU.” You explained as you massaged his scalp with the shampoo.

“Oh that’s sick! Yeah I live here during the summers but I’m in Cali most of the year.” He was very obviously enjoying you running your hands through his hair and you couldn’t deny. You did as well.

“My grandma comes here a lot. She said you play hockey huh? I didn’t know there were hockey teams in California.” You admitted almost feeling a bit stupid letting those words leave your mouth. Trevor grinning at your remark.

“It’s a weird place for ice hockey that’s for sure but yeah the Anaheim Ducks. I’m guessing you don’t watch hockey?”

“Not at all. I’m not huge into sports but I played volleyball in high school.” You rinsed his hair off then wrapped his hair up in a towel and motioned for him to move to the hair cutting seat. His height shocked you a bit more when he stood up letting you really observe him. You caught the smell of his cologne as he walked by sitting down in the chair. You couldn’t get enough of him but you were fighting the feelings.

“I’ll have to get you to watch a few games. It’s important if we’re friends you watch hockey or at least know how the game works.” He stated looking at you through the mirror making it harder to concentrate with his gaze.

“Also, keep the shape but just make it a bit shorter. It’s kind of hard to see now.” Trevor grabbed a front strand of his hair pulling it down his face to see how long it was.

“Oh so we’re friends now?” Teasing him a bit. You snipped away at his hair following his request. You couldn’t help but notice all the tattoos on his arms as well letting your eyes scan his features more.

“I mean I’m trusting you with my hair so of course we’re friends but let’s say I ask you out on a date. Would that make or break the friendship.” The question caught you off guard.

Y/n you just said you weren’t gonna date anyone. Tell him no.

“I mean I don’t see how a date could hurt the friendship. I’m free anytime past 4 when the salon closes.” You couldn’t believe you just said that. It was like you had no control.

“Perfect I’ll pick you up at 4 tonight. What you’re wearing is perfect.” You blushed at his comment. Finishing up his hair and blow drying it. He stood up and you shook the barber cape off. You did a pretty good job you couldn’t lie.

“You know I might have you cut my hair from now on beautiful.” He turned around to face you.

“I mean I charge more so if you’re fine with that I’m fine with that.” Joking obviously you walked over to the wall grabbing a broom to sweep up all the hair you cut off.

“Worth every penny. I’ll pick you up at 4 from here. Leave your car here and we’ll just take mine.” Carla came back to the front soon after.

“Yay no buzzcut! You did really well Y/n.” Carla gave you an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Trevor made his way up to the front with Carla to pay while you cleaned up the hair on the floor.

“I’ll see you tonight y/n.” Winking at you he left the salon.

“I’m guessing you two hit it off huh?” Carla smirked.

“I mean I wouldn’t deny it.” You blushed at her comment making her laugh.

“He’s a great kid y/n. I wouldn’t let him near you if he wasn’t.” Carla smoothed out her apron retreating to the back again.

This was gonna be a very interesting summer and an even more interesting school year.

——————————————————————————

Tbh idk how I feel about this one but oh well

#hockey #hockey players #nhl fanfiction #nhl #nhl fic #nhl hockey #nhl players #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras x reader #anaheim ducks #trevor zegras fluff #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras imagine #nhl imagine #instagram imagine #hockey imagine #nhl insta edit

[fantasticallyfruity4]

Maybe this is the monster fucker in me but…

Steve accidentally summons a demon while cooking (it’s Eddie).

He was trying a pasta sauce recipe joyce recommended and you put enough herbs in a pot, accidentally cut your finger and accidentally yell some ancient Latin while your in pain and you may just summon a demon.

When Steve sees Eddie he doesn’t scream like most humans do. Or try to get him to do their bidding, which throws the newly summoned son of Lilith in to a confused state.

Because A) he’s having a hard enough time believing that this dweeb in the polo did a blood ritual to summon him, I mean seriously what? Look at him. And B) this guy looks like a fucking soccer mom really, he can’t believe it. He’s being way too chill about this, some random guy demon standing in his living room.

He looks at him in surprise for a moment before turning back to his cauldron- which looks a lot like someone’s grandmas sauce-pot but whatever.

“Oh, hey man. Jesus you scared the shit out of me.” He chuckles. “You’re that new friend of Wills right? You’re a little early, the kids probably won’t be here for like another half hour, but don’t worry about it, grab a seat at the island. I’m Steve, which im sure you know, what’s your name again?”

He turns around for a second. “Eddie”.

Steve smiles at him, a sweet genuine thing before returning to his sauce pot-cauldron.

Who the fuck is will? Whatever, he’ll go with it. Why not.

It’s becoming more and more evident that “Steve” has no idea what he just did, and that hasn’t happened to Eddie since like, 1692. An accidental summoning, that is. Oh boy did he make a fucking splash with that one too.

“Aren’t you a little old to be hanging around my 14 year olds? I mean im not judging, I hang around them, but what are you, like 20?”

“Ill be 720 next month” he answers truthfully. “very funny” Steve deadpans.

“I promise im not ignoring you, im just trying to get this shit done. I’ve never used this recipe before and I’m beginning to think joyce is just fucking with me”

Eddie makes a humming noise in agreement.

“Careful with the parsley, you’ll summon a succubus” Eddie comments, genuinely.

“Oh ha ha real funny”.

Eddie is dead serious.

“If you don’t mind I could use some help with the garlic bread” Steve comments with a tint on his cheeks, like he’s shy about asking for help.

Eddie is up within a second modding.

“Good thing I’m just a demon and not a vampire” Eddie comments, and Steve grins.

“Really, the outfit could have fooled me”. Steve grins with a flirty wink.

“What do you need?”

“Oh! Uh, everything’s prepped. It’s just gotta get buttered and garlic’ed and then I gotta throw it in the oven. Only if you don’t mind-“

“I don’t, big boy. Don’t you worry about it”.

-

Five minutes later, Eddie is on his knees in this pathetic humans kitchen, with two hands gripping his horns for dear life, who is crying out his name.

#steddie

[stardew-requests]

Can I get headcanons for the Bachelors and a pregnant farmer? ((Or a link to a post that you've made about the same thing that I really feel like you've made that I still can't remember))

Nothing makes my heart happier than the Stardew bachelors as dads! Thanks for the request Anon!

This one's long post! I put it under the cut!

Alex: In some regard, he still views himself as a teenager, so upon learning that the farmer was pregnant he had a moment of panic. Okay, it was more than just a moment. "What are we going to do? My grandma's going to be so disappointed!" He'd say, pacing back a forth. The farmer would just shake their head. "Alex, we're married. I don't think it'll be much of a scandal". It took some time to really register that he was going to be a father, but when it finally clicked a few weeks in, he begins to get excited. He takes initiative on prepping the nursery and goes above and beyond with helping on the farm. At his core, he's determined to be that father he never had; the one that every kid deserves.

Elliott: He is extremely attentive, almost excessively. Every need, every craving, every appointment or exam, he's there without hesitation. The farmer never has to doubt whether or not he'll be there, because he was fully involved from the moment they told him they were expecting. It had always been a dream of his to be a father, and it had finally come to fruition. So he was there for every moment of the pregnancy, good and bad. And the moment he held that baby for the first time? No painting or song or any piece of art was ever as beautiful as that moment.

Harvey: Being a doctor, Harvey was completely ready, medically speaking. However, no amount of medical school or field work could've prepared him for the intense emotions that overcame him the moment he found out he was going to be a father. Pure joy flooded over him, but also crippling worry. What if he panicked during the delivery? What if something went wrong? How could he live with himself if something did go wrong and he wasn't able to help? The farmer, while worried to a lesser degree, became the rock he needed to be both an attentive doctor and a caring husband. And, of course, he excelled at both. 

Sam: Poor Sam didn't see this one coming. The pregnancy was a surprise, and the farmer was overjoyed, but Sam had no idea how to react at first. Of course he was ecstatic; he'd often daydream of being a father. Taking care of Vincent all those years had given him a real paternal touch. But he was also nervous. What would his mom say? Would his dad be disappointed in him? Would he grow apart from his friends? The situation took some getting used to, but after he overcame the initial shock he let the excitement take over. He went to every single checkup with the farmer and bought LOADS of baby things to prepare the nursery. And you believe he absolutely spoils that baby. 

Sebastian: In his younger years, Sebastian fully believed he never wanted to be a father. He didn't think he was cut out for it. But after meeting the farmer, the idea began to grow on him. He liked the idea of being a stay-at-home dad on the farm. So when the farmer told him the news, he immediately knew he was ready to fall right into the role. Not having his own dad around (and the coldness he received from Demetrius all his life) made him dead-set on being the most attentive and loving man he could be. For both the baby and the farmer.

Shane: Shane had convinced himself that he'd never get that chance to be a father, with the exception of Jas of course, and he'd come to terms with that long ago. It was only after recovery and the blooming relationship with the farmer that he dared to imagine the possibility of a child of his own. When the time came that the farmer told him of their pregnancy, they were worried that he wouldn't react well. Though he'd come a long way in his recovery, he was still fragile. But the farmer wouldn't have guessed that he'd bury his head in his hands and become choked up. "Shane?" They'd ask carefully, worried he was going to break down. But he just shakes his head, looks up at the farmer, and says "I'm so happy".

#stardew valley #stardew valley bachelors #sdv bachelors #sdv #sdv alex #sdv elliott #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #sdv shane #sdv alex x farmer #sdv elliot x farmer #sdv harvey x farmer #sdv sam x farmer #sdv sebastian x farmer #sdv shane x farmer #sdv ask blog #sdv x farmer #stardew valley ask blog #stardew valley headcanons #sdv headcanon requests

[elisela]

‘this is my husband/boyfriend/partner etc.’ + NurseyDex

that's mine nurseydex, alternating pov

.

Nursey goes flying. Headfirst into the goal, arms flailing, Will thinks he hears a yelp sort of flying. He only resists the urge to roll his eyes because Bitty’s looking right at him and he doesn’t want a lecture. 

Still—when one of the assholes on the other team barks out a laugh and says, “Who was that, Bambi?”, Will can’t help but sigh.

“That’s my teammate, asshole,” he says, and cuts over to check him against the boards. 

—

Derek misses the days that the frogs were wide-eyed and respectful in the Haus. These kids—he’s going to need some sense knocked into them soon. They’re loud, rowdy, and far too interested in integrating into the group by joining in on the teasing, which is a right they have not yet earned.

Like now, when they’re giggling to themselves and looking at him.

“So—” one of them starts, smirking, and never finishes.

“So,” Derek repeats, jerking his thumb at Dex, “that’s my roommate.”

The laughter grates on his nerves, but not as much as pretending he doesn’t care about sharing a room with Dex.

—

Nursey is … singing? Will thinks that’s what he’s trying to do at least, and he’s heard him sing almost every day in the shower so the warbling coming out of his mouth is surprising. He’s not saying Nursey is good by any means, but he can sound decent with the right song and this … this is not the right song.

He doubts the fact that all the words being slurred thanks to being absolutely trashed is helping.

Will stays at the bar until the song is done, resolutely facing away from the somewhat dimly-lit karaoke stage so he doesn’t get dragged into participating. Luckily—or not, considering Ransom and Holster seem to have disappeared so the drunken idiot is now his responsibility—Nursey doesn’t say anything when he comes crashing up to the bar except, “Tequila shots?”

Will can barely understand him, but the look on his face—the one that appears whenever Nursey thinks he’s had a particularly good idea—speaks volumes. “Water,” he says firmly, sliding a waiting pint glass over. 

He really doesn’t understand whatever Nursey mumbles then, but he has more pressing problems, because his lap—previously empty of everything except his coat—is now occupied. “Jesus,” he mutters, trying to wiggle away. “Dude—Nursey—”

“S’comfy,” Nursey says, and Will tries once more to get him to move to his own seat with no avail.

The bartender, when she returns, gives Will a raised eyebrow. “He bothering you? I can get him out.”

Will sighs. “He’s a friend,” he says, and adds, “so he pretty much bothers me all the time.”

“Ya love me, pretty boy,” Nursey says. He starts to laugh—at what, Will has no clue—but it makes him wiggle in a way that Will isn’t sure he’s entirely comfortable with, and Nursey goes sliding to his own seat after another shove.

“Shut up and drink your water,” Will says, and motions to close their tab.

—

“That’s Jack,” Derek says, nudging his grandmother and pointing at the television, where Jack is leaning on the boards and chatting with the coach. “He’s on the Falconers.”

“I’m rooting for them,” she says, and tuts when Derek makes an aborted noise. “Hush, you don’t get to choose who I like. Is he a defender?”

Derek’s been playing hockey most of his life and every time he watches a game with his grandma it’s like she’s never heard of the sport before. “No, he’s not a defenseman,” he says. God help him, he’s never going to get through this game alive. 

The shot switches to a close-up and she hums. “Handsome.”

Derek shrugs. Jack’s fine, he supposes. A bit too bland for him, nothing that really stands out, not like—”And that’s Dex—Will—over there, in the white. Will—he’s my—” he swallows a bit too hard.

“If you think I haven’t figured out you like men and women, Derek, we’re going to need to have a conversation regarding your assumptions about my intelligence.”

He wonders if God would actually strike him down if he prayed hard enough. “He’s my boyfriend, Gram,” he says, staring resolutely at the television.

She hums again. “That Jack is more handsome though, don’t you think?”

It’s going to be a long game.

—

Will’s trying to hide. Table at the back, hat still on and pulled down low, black hoodie and black jeans. Anything to make himself blend into the background, because he doesn’t want to be caught dead here.

He also doesn’t want to be involved in any conversations, not that the girls at the table next to him have picked up on that. He’d made two fatal errors: being cordial when one of them had said hello, and admitting he’s never been to an open-mic poetry night.

They haven’t stopped talking to him since. 

“Okay, this guy—I’m not sure he’s your type, you know? Not that you aren’t like, super intelligent—I mean you’re here, right, so obviously—but he has a lot of heavy themes in his work if you really dig in and you really need to hear them a few times to peel back the layers. I’m hoping he reads the tree above the grave again, it’s—”

She cuts off, finally, when a cough sounds from the front and Derek begins to speak. There’s utter silence while he recites words that Will’s heard a hundred times over in various iterations, tweaked and stressed and polished until he could probably say them in his sleep, then an excited outburst of conversation among applaus when it’s over.

“Amazing, right?” she says, and keeps talking while Will nods. “Have you heard of him before?”

Will looks at her. “He’s the one I came for,” he answers honestly, grinning for the first time all night when he sees Derek making his way over. “He’s my husband.”

#'this is the only fic i'll write' i said #ha #what an idiot i am #nurseydex #missanniewhimsy #eli writes #omgcp