#Martin’s feeling so silly

[springypaws]

I manifested this at 3am last night and I don’t know how I feel about it but it exists now so this is my contribution for @jonmartinweek day 5, Criptids | Webs and Weaving <3333

Cue silly color palette moment

#this is absolutely not my cryptid Jon design it just looked cool when I was being fueled by nothing but late night impulse #I wanted to make him mothman Jon but alas #Martin’s feeling so silly #Jon’s looking at him!!! In love indeed #the magnus archives #the magnus archives jon #the magnus archives martin #jonmartinweek 2024 #teaholding #jmart #tma jmart #eyes #so many eyes #tma major spoilers #tma spoilers #tma season 5 #??? i think

[saym0-0]

hello jmart is t4t martin is no op jon is post top surgery. just letting u know. they told me themselves.

#because if i can project half my sexuality/romantic attraction onto jon #then i can surely project half my gender feels onto martin right #<- which is ofc no top surgery but transtape is my best friend 🫶 #im also nb and got that ken doll ideal figure completely smooth but thats not his vibe #i actually do not think about bottom surgery ever so thats like ambiguous in my headcanons lmao #i feel like both of them r like post transition they r happy with their bodies aside from Bad Days yk #idk transgender ramblings in the tags ya love to see it #also the sexuality thing w jon is that he in my headcanons has the exact same flavour of ace as me #i love 2 project my queerness onto my silly guys #jmart #jonmartin #trans jonathan sims #trans martin blackwood

[damiandie]

"However far away, I will always love you" - Lovesong by The Cure

They are looking at the stars :]

#chnt #camp here and there #sydney o sargent #i love sydney o sargent #jedidiah martin #TYHEYT SO SILLY I WISH I COUKD USQUISH THEM I LOVE THEM SM #CRYING #GUYS PEASE JUST TAKLK TO EACHOTHER #Yes #they have matching gold heart necklaces #jedi got it for Sydney when they were like 15ish #dont ask him how much it cost #he had to save alot #they are so cheesy I love them #anyways they both have their names carved into it #in their handwriting #jedi never takes it off when he gets anxious he rubs it to feel the engraved name of Sydney #Its always there just hidden #im not okay #VAMPIRIAN VISONS

[taniushka12]

W359 JONTIM AU HELLO????

dfgdfg its from a Loose and only Flavored w359 au/crossover but yeah! thinking about the parallels between jon & tim and minkowski & eiffel the question was What if jon and tim had the space and circumstances that made minkowski's and eiffel's bond so tightly yknow? what if they were the ones stuck together in a crumbling spaceship while one of their friends is offline and the other lost in space? what if they learned to rely on each other and jon did everything on his power to keep tim alive and, fuck, succeeded?? (at least at first but yknow) what if tim managed to make jon laugh? 😭😭😭😭😭

anyway i made some silly art of it back in 2019! but i really should do more Q_Q

#its basically what if the world of w359 had Much more horror and what if tma had way more wacky shenanigans yknow? #eventually its also poly w/ jon tim sasha and martin but its mmmmostly jntm bc im a jon/tim and min/ffel truther #tani's personal shit #also i talk abt the pair's parallels but what abt the characters?? i immediately liked jon when i started tma bc #he reminded me SO much of minkowski! harsh professional whos compensating bc they feel they're not good enough/unfit for the job #whereas between eiffel and tim are the group assigned silly guy (whos still p fucking good at his job) #AND have a dark backstory and reason why they're there #gosh! anyway! #sorry this is rambly and not nearly enough but im on a schedule here ;o; point is what if jon and tim were in mins and eiffels shoes kinda?

[silentsundown]

I gave Dylan a slight makeover since he won't be seen for a few more text posts, but I tried to keep it quite subtle, especially for the changes on his face. He didn't get surgery lol, let's assume he had a massive glowup after leaving Strangerville and being overall less stressed out. He cut his hair, and he has some new clothes as well. He's not too rushed to find a new girl, to be honest just having his daughter is heaven to him.

But one thing hasn't changed: he still LOVES coffee.

#ts4 #ts4 strangerville #dylan sigworth #slight makeover #subtle makeover #he does look a bit less silly now #his eyes were just so small and his irises felt too big #now he has kinda sanpaku eyes #yeah let's assume he just had a massive glowup #i feel kinda bad for not having made him over before starting the story tho but i had no idea he would grow on me so much #besides he was supposed to cheat on jess with alice martin #but now i'm reconsidering whether he remarries at all #i paired alice with him because in my previous save neighbourhood stories put them together and i thought it was a cool idea #but alice maybe is a tad young for a 32 year old lad #hmm we'll see #in my story she's like 24 or 25

[crabussy]

you guys would not believe the convo I just had with some of the sys (sunny, circe, moon, phoebe, francis, martin and jon)

we were in the living room of headspace discussing what stuff we should do while on holiday and a fucking. disembodied brain??? floats into the middle of the room??? and just hovers there and we're all freaked the fuck out and it just. becomes a full nervous system and them it has muscles and skin and clothes and boom. it was phoebe. WHAT THE FUCK. WHY WOULD SHE. WHAT. WHY.

turns out she was just having fun fucking with the dream-physics of headspace. later in the convo she was suddenly an autism creature after a brief confetti explosion and then she turned her hair into hatsune miku's hair. wtf is wrong with this girl. also british people (jon and martin) joined the convo and started being GAY IN FRONT OF ALL OF US. GROSS (it was cute actually)

#it was a good convo!!! today is a good day in the system ((: everyones getting along for once and things arent as fuzzy as usual :D #jon and martin were being GAY. moon was just Sitting There. phoebe butted in a lot but its ok we love her #circe is actually much wilder than I thought??? I'm not too close with her but I assumed she wasn't that silly but turns out shes bonkers #I underestimated your clownery circe. im sorry #also I get!! really nervous talking about this on main! because I've had really scary rubbish encounters with fakeclaimers in the past etc #so I kinda feel anxious when talking about the positive parts of being part of a system #because everyone on r/fakedisordercringe believes that plurality is a traumatic nightmare 100% of the time )): #its hard!! its REALLY difficult and sucky being a system. #of course it is we're 24 people sharing one body and 23 of us can't even be acknowledged #etc etc. it sucks its a disorder #BUT its also just an alternate way of existing as a human!! we have fun we make friends we make fun of each other and have good times. #mostly. #WOW. RANT. OOPS. but I just want to say that I want to share my experiences as part of a nutty crew of morons... a ragtag band of misfits.. #I want to show you guys the positives. try and destigmatise this bitch!!!!! the negatives are there too and I will talk about them sometime #but for now. this was a really fun convo and I wanted to share it #robin shut up challenge #not gonna tag this as anything because I don't want anons telling me I'm making stuff up. #please trust me I've been told that dozens of times you really don't need to tell me #my professional psychiatrist/therapist believes I am a system. you are a stranger on the internet who has never met me. please refrain from #sending anons fakeclaiming #WOW I AM NERVOUS TODAY BOYS #dont be surprised if this post disappears

[overlyaltruistic]

ariel, hi!! hadn't seen you active in tumblr in some time. hope you're doing well :) <3

howdy!!! im definitely not active at all! but ive been ok, theres always lil somethings goin on but weve been taking care and life has been treating me kindly through it all. i see the app in my socializing folder from time to time and think of the connections ive made and i still hold a lot of love in a general “i know life is hard but they seem cool and i hope things are going ok, and i hope theyre trying to take care and i hope they know they deserve good things” way for everyone ive stumbled upon. im semi-frequently sending good vibez through the universe and i hope theyve traveled how ever far and reached you guys.

i appreciate your message! thank you for sending good vibez my way too. whether im back tomorrow or 2 months from now or 5 years from now i shall always be wishing every stranger ive ever “met” lots of love and growth and all the other wonderful gifts life is able to give <3 especially you! you already know this, but i think youre super cool & tis always a pleasure to hear from you darling :)

#rambling out loud #i have some things queued for the next bit of a while #so i may not be as active as it seems #but im also starting to finally feel a bit more at ease again #like my brain can handle watching new shows on my own or commenting on silly posts by silly peeps #poster kid by peach martine is kinda my general Mood™ lately #so we be gettin there #thanks for checking in!

[hussyknee]

Hey, just in case people who already have been having a bad time with this meme are retriggered by Francesca Scorcese's TikTok – Goncharov is fake. It doesn't exist. [Edited for further clarity] That is really Martin Scorsese's daughter, that's her real TikTok account, and presumably that is really her father in the chat screenshot she posted. Francesca saw the piece in the NY Times talking about how Tumblr made up a fake movie, sent her Dad the link and asked "Did you see this?" Martin joked back "yes I made that movie years ago." That's all it was, Martin Scorsese himself playing along with our silliness.

PLEASE reblog this and DO NOT TAG IT UNREALITY. "Unreality" is for posts that are keeping up the bit, but info posts, reality-affirming posts and ones talking about the meme as a meme are solidly real. We really haven't been doing a good enough job tagging this properly and protecting neurodivergent people from being gaslit and traumatized. I've seen way too many people saying they nearly had a breakdown because of being lied to. We never meant to hurt you, and I'm so sorry people were jackasses when you wanted to know the truth.

Edit: I love everybody reblogging this, but a handful of idiots have been clowning on this post so here's an explainer about how site-wide disinformation can trigger psychosis. Please go in the replies and notes, they have a lot of interesting insights, by everyone from non-psychotic autistic people with gaslighting trauma to DID systems. You can go through the notes on this post as well.

There's absolutely no reason to be ashamed of loving and enjoying this meme, or to feel bad about not tagging things properly when you didn't know how. And PLEASE don't harass, dogpile or shame people for failing to tag properly or choosing not to. You're just giving people anxiety and policing them. Do what you can how you can, be kind, and don't tell other people their business. That is more than enough.❤️

#PLEASE BOOST #goncharov #goncharov 1973 #goncharov (1973) #martin scorsese #disinformation #gaslighting #ableism #disability #psychosis

[riveracheron]

just by giving us office shenanigans, the magnus protocol is simulating the terrifying creeping dread of early magnus to me.

theyre making alice so silly and sam so sweet “cinnamon roll” and gwen so adorably bratty because they Know we know its gonna hurt.

they’re playing on our knowledge of this franchise to curate such a secondhand sense of “Oh Fuck” just waiting for it all go to shit. it’s terror they dont have to explicitly allude to because they Know we know. so good.

i just know they made sam make cat noises in his sleep to up his “awww sweet fandom baby. sweet cinnamon roll” factor Just because we know they’re going to destroy him

they saw the way we write precanon and gave it to us on a knowingly poisoned silver platter. sam is fanon martin, alice is fanon tim, gwen is fanon jon, celia is fanon sasha. but all their cute office shenanigans are soured now by Oh God Oh Fuck. its *genius*. even though we dont know the characters too well they are familiar. they are familiar and we love them already because they are familiar. their pain is familiar too and we know its coming.

. and colin is there to be our Reminder that this isnt a cute sitcom anime. colin is living in the horror genre . he is our Reminder so we don’t get too comfortable.

archives was so good at slow burn upping the stakes. protocol is Not Doing that for obvious reasons but the fear it illicits is the same creeping dread feeling.

#tmagp #the magnus protocol

[whyse7vn]

PALENTINES -

[ ot7 x reader ]

SINGLE LADIES 😁🔥

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: gave my gf an hour long whimpering audio for valentines day

namjoon: you make me sick

jimin: this definitely counts as harassment

jk: yoongi got me a plastic fork

yoongi: yw

y/n: the audio was 5 minutes long????

tae: ok but i sent it to you 20 times

do the math????

jin: you sat there and whimpered into ur phone for 5 minutes that’s crazy

don’t you feel any shame??

tae: why would i feel shame?

it’s called being in love jin

you should try it sometime

jimin: it’s called harassment

hobi: ew man

jk: free asmr :D

jin: it’s gonna be free tae from jail soon

tae: no it won’t

jimin: ur right when you get locked up no one’s gonna want you free

hobi: KEEP TAE IN JAIL 🗣️💯

jk: personally i would want tae free

jimin: personally ur not real so it doesn’t matter what you want

jk: :ᗡ

hobi: ew how the hell did you flip it

i hate that

ew

jk: :ᗡ

hobi: HOW DID YOU DO THAT

jk: :ᗡ

hobi: STOP GO AWAY I HATE IT

namjoon: yoongi got jungkook a present this year?

yoongi: not by choice

y/n: it was by choice

hobi: it was a plastic fork

yoongi: a plastic fork not given by choice

y/n: yoongi

yoongi: no

y/n: please

yoongi: no

y/n: pretty please :3

yoongi: it was by choice

y/n: see told you!

yoongi: don’t understand why we have to buy each other shit on this holiday anyways

i like ONE of you not all of you

tae: am i the one you like be honest

yoongi: bye

y/n: it’s our silly little tradition don’t be a loser yoongi

yoongi: whatever

jin: ok anyways who ordered me a fucking marching band???

jk: idk but did you like it??

y/n: gonna take a wild guess and say it was jungkook

namjoon: i thought you have his card how did he order that??

y/n: he has apple pay now i can’t stop him 😕

hobi: wait no fair

jin did NOT deserve a marching band all he got me was his butter photocard???

jimin: he got me that too….

jk: OMG ME TOO >_<

tae: i don’t feel special anymore

namjoon: really jin?

y/n: mine was signed!!

yoongi: cheap

jin: you literally got kook a plastic fork?

yoongi: he loves it

jungkook tell him you love it

jk: i love it

yoongi: see

jin: whatever don’t care

jimin: namjoon got me a fucking book

jin: lol that’s crazy cuz you can’t read

jk: i’m sorry to hear you can’t read jimin hope you can soon :/

namjoon: i put a lot of thought into the book i got you

jin: that’s cute but he can’t read so

jk: i wish i was a book

tae: if you’re a book does that make you a tree?

jk: guys

y/n: no jungkook

jk: oh ok

jimin: i CAN read btw

yoongi: don’t care

jin: sounds like fake news

jk: omg wow ur a fast learner jimin you can read now!!!

jimin: ur talking way too much today

you should stop

jk: is he talking to me????

hobi: y/n got me a holiday to australia

i’m not gonna go cuz like bugs

but that was really nice

y/n: you’re welcome!!!!

tae: k but i got sex

y/n deleted this message!

tae: 😕

silencing me like they did MLK

jimin: what

jk: milk

hobi: did you just compare urself to mlk?

jin: yeah never say that again

tae: why not?? it’s true

yoongi: you are nothing like mlk

jk: tae ur not milk

namjoon: taehyung do not compare yourself to martin luther king ever again please and thank you

jk: or milk

y/n: and in black history month too…

tae: you don’t understand me or him

y/n: yeah ok

back to gifts

joon got me some really pretty flowers

jimin: boringggggggg he does that every year

jk: namjoon got me wood

hobi: ?

namjoon: statue

it’s a wooden statue thing

not just wood

tae: joon giving other boys wood for valentines ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

u wanna know who i gave MY wood too

y/n deleted this message!

namjoon: tae shut up

jin: saw that

tae: i’m just like mlk i’m telling you man

y/n: stop

tae: sorry

jimin: hobi got me shoes

hobi: i did

jk: hobi got me cheese

hobi: expensive cheese

y/n: i took yoongi to those cute photo booth things

yoongi: they didn’t need to know that

y/n: yes they did

we are sharing what we got each other

read the room yoongi

jimin: yeah yoongi read the room

tae: how tf u read a room??!

a room not a book ☠️☠️

u guys dumb as hell

jin: you not knowing what reading a room means makes a lot of sense actually

jk: send photobooth pics ^0^

bet u looked so cute

not you yoongi

y/n

her

not yoongi

i’m talking to y/n NOT you yoongi btw

yoongi: shut up

and no

you’ll never see those photos

jk: ☹️

hobi: so what did yoongi get y/n??

yoongi: don’t worry

tae: personally i’m worried

jk: me 2 guys yoongi is really scary

what if he killed her

y/n: ?

jin: i want to blow jungkook up

jk: i’m no ballon 😭

jimin: probably fucked for valentines let’s be real

tae: well that’s obviously NOT true lmao 😜 ☠️

yoongi: why is that “obviously” not true

we could of

tae: you didn’t

yoongi: and you know how?

tae: cuz i just know

yoongi: yeah ok

we could of for all you know

on the actual day too

tae: you weren’t even with her on valentine’s day

yoongi: and you were?

y/n: he wasn’t

tae: ok

but i could of been

yoongi: but clearly you weren’t

tae: neither were you

namjoon: both of you stop

tae: idk why yoongi acts all high a mighty

especially when it comes to her

y/n: ok that’s crazy

how about you don’t talk about me like i’m not here!

yoongi: idk why taehyung acts like he has a chance lmao

jk: guys

tae: that’s actually crazy

you’d be fucking surprised yoongi!!!!

yoongi: what’s that supposed to mean?

tae: what do you think it means?

tell me yoongi

guess

i’ll tell you if you’re right or not

yoongi: shut the fuck up

tae: or what?

hobi: why this kinda sexualllll

jimin: like 😭😭😭😭

y/n: LMAO STOP

jin: arguing over pussy that belongs to neither of them is crazy i’m just saying

jk: pussy \ ^0^ /

namjoon: how about we all stop arguing and move back to talking about the gifts we got eachother !!

hobi: jungkook got me a ballon

jk: yeah

do you love it

hobi: sure

jk: ^_^

jimin: personally i think hobi’s lying to you kook

jk: WHAT

jimin: i think he hates his ballon actually

jk: hobi pls say he’s lying

hobi: he’s lying

you see it may seem that way because on the outside im a very chill and nonchalant man

y/n: that is not true actually!

hobi: but on inside i am actually very chalant

EXTREMELY chalant no joke

so basically inside im going fucking crazy over the ballon jungkook gave me but it just doesn’t seem like that cuz im a chill guy

jk: but inside ur chalant

hobi: exactly

jk: jimin why would you lie to me

jimin: ur easy to lie to

jk: no im not

jimin: namjoon died in a car crash 24 hours ago

jk: NO NAMJOON OHHMYGOD NAMJOON NO

namjoon: i am not dead

jk: oh

y/n: how did you fall for that

namjoon cant even drive

jk: oh yeah

lol namjoon cant drive guys

namjoon: ok we all know

hobi: so what did you guys actually do on valentine’s day

jk: minecraft but then it got too scary so i played valorant instead

jimin: idk what any of that means but ok

i personally watched movies with joon

namjoon: yeah

i dropped by kook’s and y/n’s place first tho to give my gifts and stuff

hobi: where was my movie invite?????

jimin: we did call you

you were like high as hell

hobi: oh

wow

how real of me

jin: i cooked steak

jimin: for urself?

typical

jin: kys

no

for me and y/n actually

y/n: …

jin: my fault

yoongi: what

tae: oh

jk: SHE SAID SHE WAS BUSY

TTAHSTNOT FAIIROGJKFNKLDVLKFNKLFHKLNNDKVHNFKVNKLGNGR UFHDFHDKJ GHDKLNGFKLNGFG FHJDJHHGR DHGGRHBDNBF JGHKJGHGR

hobi: ????????????????????

namjoon: cool

jimin: jin???? out of everyone JIN??????

why would you fuck jin

jk: WHATR OHMYGOF WHAT?????? SHUT UP

jimin: on valentine’s day too…..

even fucking ME would make more sense than jin right now

jin: tf is that supposed to mean?

jimin: i said what i said lmao

tae: she cant of fucked jin

cuz she’s fucking me

yoongi: LMAOOOO

u really think your special dont you

thats crazy

jk: WHYIS EVERYONEFUCKING MY GIRLFRIENDOHMGYOJFDJFDKJDSDB

hobi: i dont get it even if she was fucking tae why couldn’t she fucked jin too?

y/n: i am like right here you know

tae: because me and her are serious

yoongi: serious???

you are just a rebound

tae: yoongi i think you’re just upset she didn’t come to you first after the whole jaehyun thing

yoongi: i’m glad she didn’t actually because now i know for sure i’m not rebound

you are

tae: shut the fuck up

yoongi: why? you getting upset?

idk why you’re acting like the victim here when you’re using her for the same thing

hobi: woah??

jimin: cap taehyung bitchless

yoongi: it’s time you stop using y/n to get over jennie and grow some fucking balls

jin: hold on

jimin: WAITTTTTTTT

hobi: SHUT FUCKING DOWN FR????

jk: imgonnapassout

y/n: oh

namjoon: yoongi

tae: i am not using y/n to get over jennie and you know that

hobi: wait ur fr??? taejennie was fr??

LIKE ACTUALLY?? OHMYGIDTHISISREAL??

yoongi: i know that? thats crazy how could i know that??

you didn’t even tell us about jennie

for over 3 months you were with her and you didn’t tell us

and then those photos of you and her were leaked and you were all depressed for ”no reason”

and now all of a sudden your obsession with y/n?

yeah you’re not using her you’re right i’m just fucking stupid aren’t i?

jimin: holy shit man

tae: i am not using her

yoongi: so why is yeontan with jennie right now?

y/n: tae you told me he was with you parents?

tae: yeah

but

i didn’t tell you that because im using you or anything i just said that because i didn’t want to cause any problems

y/n: you lied to me

for no reason

if you told me the truth it would of been fine

tae: i know

y/n: so when i came over

were you planing on sleeping with me anyways?

were you mad at yourself for calling jennie and leaving yeontan with her?

did you use me to help forget about it?

tae: did you use me to help get over jaehyun?

y/n: no

i can tell you that in full confidence no

now answer my question

tae: you know i would never do that to you

y/n: its a yes or no question taehyung

tae: i would never do that to you

yoongi: yes or no you asshole

tae: shut the fuck up

yoongi: answer her question

tae: leave me the fuck alone

tae left “SINGLE LADIES😁🔥”

jk: wow

y/n: didn’t sleep with jin btw

jk: ohthankgod

y/n: did sleep with tae once

we are NOT serious

jk: double ohthankgod

wait

y/n: and now i am going to sleep

jungkook come cuddle

gn all

jk: ON MY WAY OHMYGOD IM ON MY WAY

gn

jimin: good night …

hobi: nite!!

yoongi: gn

jin: goodnight

namjoon: gn

DOWNBAD😭🫵🏻 #2 (minus tae)

6 participants - 5 online

———————————

namjoon: yoongi that wasn’t fair

yoongi: i know

but she deserved to know

and he wasn’t gonna tell her any time soon

hobi: YOU AND NAMJOON KNEW THIS TAEJENNIE WAS REAL THIS WHOLE TIME????

yoongi: i just found out

namjoon knew longer

namjoon: not that long

jimin: ok but how do you know tae is using her fr?

yoongi: it’s not hard to connect the dots

jin: still you could be wrong

yoongi: well he didn’t deny it did he?

jimin: to me it looked like he didn’t know if he was using her or not

yoongi: well he needs to figure that out soon it’s not fair to her

or him ig

but mainly her.

—

hate this don’t care about anything bring back yellow….

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks

#bts crack #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts fic #bts text #bts x reader #btsxy/n #btsxyou #namjoon × reader #jin x reader #yoongi > reader #hoseok × reader #jimin x reader #taehyung × reader #jungkook × reader #bts texts #rm x reader #suga reader #vx reader #hope x reader #hobix reader #bts fake chats #bts incorrect texts

[avanillaskyline]

I've been going through tma recently at the request of my girlfriend. She has, on multiple occasions, showed me the Jurgen Leitner rant. I know I'm not very far into it yet (MAG 53), but I'm under the impression he's getting a bad rep.

Like, we're dealing with a setting where people literally get eaten by the sky and evil worms that burrow into people and kill them in minutes. We're dealing with a setting where Fuckhands McMike can banish literally anyone to the Backrooms (and stab Jon??? Because he feels like it?????) and yet we hate Jurgen because he liked literature. ok. I am SURE there's more awful people out there than a silly lil fucked up book collector

Dude just wants a cool library and I support this, even if he's a little messed up. If he got his hands on the Necronomicon I firstly, wouldn't be surprised and secondly, would support him.

But I'm not buying it. Someone in the setting's gotta be worse

Like... Tim? No, Tim's an absolute himbo fuckboy, we can't hate him. Who else? Sasha's been kinda funky and off-putting since Mag 40 but hasn't been evil, Martin's our bestest cinnamon roll boy, and Jon's just a dedicated lil guy who gets beat up because the world hates him for no reason. We just met that new girl, Basira? She's got good vibes and I'd probably kill for Gertrude

Who else is left?? OH, ELIAS. He owns the archives and told off Jon to "not stalk his coworkers" (ok fun police), which is offensive to both me and Jon, so he automatically goes in the "bitch-ass mf" category and I do not like him

Jon's suspicious of him and SO AM I

(I'll reblog this when I get further in with more details, no spoilers please)

#magnus archives #the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #jurgen leitner #jurgen leitner rant #Mag 53 #michael distortion #fuckhands mcmike #martin blackwood #tim stoker #basira hussain #sasha james #elias bouchard #the certified bitch-ass mf #we dont like him #I dont like him #this is a threat #no spoilers please #this is also a threat #from my gf

[lacollectionneuse1967]

remembering you - bonus chapter

Theseus Scamander x Reader

summary: theseus comes to your rescue after you've had too much to drink, but will he be able to resist your drunken advances?

fem!reader. theseus x reader.

category: smut

warnings: 18+ smut scene. drunkenness. dirty talk. unprotected penetration. light mdom/fsub.

author's note: wasn't going to continue with this fic, but i made this "bonus chapter." it's more of a smutty resolution than a full-fledged chapter, no plot all vibes--hope you all enjoy!

part one / part two / bonus chapter

The realization of love feels fatal, plummets and plants itself at the bottom of your stomach like some small death. Your heart pounds dreadfully, like you’re in danger. The soar and the swoop.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me.

Theseus. Loves. Me. 

It shatters your mind. You shuffle around in the shards to formulate sentences to offer up to Mr. Bragg’s probing, you tell yourself to blink. To focus. 

Mr. Bragg had shuffled you into his quiet office with a shaking anticipation, but asked you only silly, useless questions once alone. He was less talkative than you’d expected. Less forward.

It’s dim in his office. Impractically so. Only an oil lamp squats in the far corner, blooming dead orange light into the cigar-perfumed room. 

The bronze hinges on his display cabinet and the dull gold knobs and hardware on all his other furniture glint, dark rays of light. Yes, the dark winks at you in this way. He’s seated far across the room. You can’t see him well, he’s half-swallowed in a cushy upholstered chair opposite yours. 

“Might we turn on another lamp, sir?” You can’t see and you want to look around. You try not to shuffle in your seat. 

“No, no, I can see you just fine.”

You burn with something, you don’t know what. 

It’s not the general air of discomfort that’s bothering you, it’s the void, that gap of misunderstanding that you now feel between you and this man. Who is this man, really? 

You’d always dismissed Mr. Bragg as a bumbling, meat-fisted man. Sweat on his brow, voice booming through the Atrium most days, spittle flying. Heavy-handed and obvious in his jokemaking and friend-making and all other matters.

You don’t know why the wet shine of his teeth in the dark now reminds you of a wolf. Could he really be what they think he is? You search for any sign of Grindelwald, of extremism or betrayal on his face, but you see only darkness and the barest outlines of his features–eyes, mouth, nose–buried in that. 

“Whisky?” He smiles. You can’t see the whites of his eyes. 

“What about it?” 

“Ha!” It’s a dead noise in his throat. A huff. “Funny. Go on, girl. You’re allowed.”

He pours two inches of whisky into a thick French glass and has to stand to hand it to you.

You drink and try not to make a face. Crude drink, whisky. He stares unblinkingly at your throat as you swallow it, assessingly. When he stands and pours you another, you don’t protest. You gulp it down and speak quickly. 

“Mr. Bragg, can I ask, how long have you been this department’s head?”

“Are you enjoying your whisky?”

“Well, yes–Mr. Bragg I was just wondering how you’re-”

“It doesn’t seem like you’re enjoying it very much. You know Mr. Martin–Paul Martin from the Courts–he could down one of my bottles in, say, half an hour?” 

You breathe out a laugh and hope you don’t sound exasperated. This is going to be hard. He’s making it hard for you, and you don’t know why. 

“Well, I don’t believe that, Mr. Bragg.”

Paul Martin. A Ministry judge. Your mouth works faster than your mind. The whisky sears something like acid in your stomach. 

“Mr. Martin joined us around the same time you did, isn’t that right?”

A good quarter of Ministry workers had inexplicably quit sometime before last New Year. The new hires seemed to come out of thin air. You never thought of it as sinister before tonight.

The corner of Mr. Bragg’s mouth twitched. That was the wrong thing to say. You should’ve kept your cards close. The man across from you doesn’t move at all, but in your mind the alarm bells are screeching. You can’t tell if it’s just dark in the room or if the edges of your vision are smudging. Soft black curtains. 

“And what is it exactly that you wanted to speak with me about, Miss Y/L/N?” 

—----------------

“So, how did you do it?”

Theseus jerks irritably at the sound of Yuta’s voice to see who it is and then, once confirmed, goes back to ignoring him.

He’s still staring at the blank column of space between the pillars where you’d disappeared with the detestable Mr. Bragg, mouthing “sorry!” with this look of sweet apology on your face. Sweet. Everything you did was sweet to him. 

“Is it a secret? Bastard really won’t tell us.” George Ambani Kotak slings an arm around Yuta’s shoulders and delivers his line with a mischievous lilt. There’s a bit of stray confetti on his shoulder that strangely suits him–unkempt hair, ill-fitting suit and all. 

George and Yuta are the youngest Aurors in the department. Always poking fun at Theseus because they know that he was once the youngest Auror, and they know he usually likes their spirit of boyish rebellion. Keyword: Usually.

“What are you two going on about?” Theseus humors them with his attention, turning away from the space you left at last. He doesn’t feel right, doesn’t feel good. It’s not about your unsaid response, he could give a damn if you loved him back. He loves you so absolutely he doesn’t want anything in return. No, it’s something else and he needs to be with you again to make it feel better. 

“You think we’re pesky, don’t you?” Yuta whines in mock accusation. The young Hufflepuff has a teasing manner about him that’s almost effeminate. 

“That’s because Theseus only likes hanging out with old men. Going down to the pub and talking about footy and the weather.”

“Piss off, George,” Theseus bites. He can’t quite suppress his smile. They make him feel young and old at the same time. 

The Armistice ceremony is over and discordant, broken streams of people are trickling out of the Atrium now, emerging from beneath pillars and around corners, sweaty and celebratory with relief, as if at the end of a concert or performance. Mourning and remembering were a sort of duty to be carried out, too. Theseus can understand that. 

When he thinks about your reticent angling away from him in the alcove, then your quiet omission, “I just wish that you would’ve remembered me,” he wants to shoot himself. Dramatics, yes, but the thought of letting you down felt worse than anything, was a shotgun blow to the chest in of itself. 

“Y/N fucking Y/L/N,” George groans. “How did you do it, man? I mean, actually, what did you do?!” 

“You sly fox,” Yuta mutters in agreement. 

Theseus frowns at Yuta then, taken aback, understanding the exchange at last.

“Do you fancy Y/N or something?” He still feels at a loss. They must have seen him talking to you earlier.

George looks at Theseus like he’s stupid. Then again, George looks at everyone like they’re stupid. Not a Ravenclaw thing, Theseus doesn’t like stereotypes, just a George thing. 

“Everyone likes Y/N, are you kidding me? But the girl is impenetrable.” 

“Office siren,” Yuta chirps in. 

“According to Ana, half the sports and games department has been trying to get at her all month. We came to the conclusion that she’s probably secretly engaged. Or maybe it’s an Unspeakable thing, who knows? Oh, Merlin, Rawlings is going to be fuming when he finds out about this, he’s been trying to chat her up at lunch for weeks–”

“So what’s your deal anyway? You and her?” Yuta interrupts, physically putting up a hand to silence George. George blinks at the appendage in offense. 

Theseus is stunned anew. Flustered, even.

“She… She’s just my friend,” he says firmly. Defensively, maybe. “I care about her a lot.”

There’s a beat before the two boys react. Theseus wants to give you the space to respond to his confession, to define this, before involving anyone else. He hopes Yuta and George can sense that. Or at least sense his protectiveness and uncertainty. 

“But why you?!” Yuta grimaces at last.

George bellows at that, heartily. “Oh, Yuta, young Romeo, you had your chance back when-”

Theseus drones out the two’s bickering, but the sound of it makes him inexplicably happy. The unease in his ribcage dissipates and lifts, though not completely. Theseus feels proud to love you. Grateful that, by some miracle, you let him.

He doesn’t care about any meeting you might have. He’s coming to see you, now. 

The conviction thumps in his chest like a second heart. 

He turns to leave without a farewell. 

—-------------

‘This is good,’ you’d told yourself courageously after the first swooning burn of drunkenness sailed through your body, hard and fast and seeping. ‘I feel more confident to ask him what I need to. I’m not unsettled anymore.’ 

But there was no coherent justification anymore. You were piteously, dangerously drunk.

All you could do was sway upright in the chair and try to aim your gaze towards that warm spot in the dark you were sure concealed his figure. 

Oh, god, he was talking about something. You hadn’t noticed, hoped he wasn’t asking you anything.

“-girl like you, no?”

The clipped end of his sentence did nothing for you. You feel sick, want to keel over and hold your head between your knees until the room stops moving. Your skin is buzzing. Living takes on a liquid quality, you feel like you are slipping warmly and smoothly from one moment to the next.

“What? Sorry.” 

The dark shape of Mr. Bragg moves then, solidifies as he comes to sit next to you.

“Oh, ho!” He tuts. “Can’t handle your drink, Y/L/N?”

You squint up at him.

In truth, no. This is more than you can handle, and you didn’t really drink to begin with aside from the rare glass of wine paired with dinner. 

“It’s…” your retort trails off, you can’t remember why you’d opened your mouth in the first place.

You feel yourself careen towards his thigh, his lap, he is seated on the arm of your big chair now. You slump against him pitifully. You are hardly there. You don’t know if it’s natural, the sharp decline from bubbly and light and talkative to this–sleep. Losing control of your limbs.

Oh, god. Fuck. 

Some fucking investigation. You don’t know what would be worse, if he were really betraying the Ministry, an enemy agent, or if he just wanted to take advantage of you. 

“M’sorry,” you slur against him and strain to raise yourself back up, unsuccessfully. Everything tastes bad. Even the air that rushes out of your nostrils when you exhale is pricked with the astringent sweet-rot of alcohol. Bitter and syrupy. 

You want to jolt up at the feel of his hand on your back, petting you almost, but you can only manage a low judder. You don’t know how long it’s been or what time it is, but you’re going to pass out, you realize, and Mr. Bragg is touching you. 

“Don’t,” you hiss, with sudden clarity. “Don’t touch me-”

The bang bang of his office door being knocked on isn’t even enough to raise you. You’re slumped over the side of the chair. Mr. Bragg, however, stands, alertly. 

“Not now!” He shouts. 

Every second that passes you feel yourself slip away. Light and sound comes and goes. You’re going to be sick.

The doorknob clatters against its own deadbolt. 

“I said not now–”

The door clicks and crashes open, magicked unlocked no doubt.

You can only make out Mr. Bragg’s outline. He’s standing, his body conveniently angled in a feeble attempt to block you from the intruder’s view. You don’t need to see to know who it is. 

You’re too fucked to smile. 

Theseus just stares. Seethes. Burns, not like paper being eaten up, but without end.

“I cans–you have to-” Your nonsensical, drunken slur is enough to break his stillness.

“What’s going on here?!” 

Something bridles and puffs up in Mr. Bragg, he clenches his fists and goes red in the face. 

“You have no right to-”

Theseus pushes him to the floor with a single hard shove. Mr. Bragg topples over like a beetle. 

He doesn’t care about him. He’s an Auror, he’ll deal with Bragg later.

You feel his hands on you, your body sings with affection. He’s trying to help you up by the arm but you’re trying to fall into him. 

“Sweetheart, try and stand up,” he says, voice hushed and insistent. He seems like a real Auror now, authoritative and caring. “I think he put something in your cup.”

Your head lolls but you try to obey and make yourself helpful. Fuck, it’s hard. You thought it would help, standing up, but you feel more and more inebriated by the second. 

“No,” you shake your head and stumble out of the black office into humiliatingly bright light. The word comes out as a desperate moan, a heave. You feel sick again. You have to concentrate on not slurring your words. “It’s just. I-I don’t really drink, Theseus. Likeatall...”

You stare at your stumbling feet, so strange looking. How strange it is to be drunk and seeing the drab, red Ministry carpets. To be like this and at work. 

Theseus is looking around, concerned at the spectacle of the two of you, at how bad it looked, maybe, you don’t know. You just want him to stop looking around and look at you instead. You need his attention, in a babylike and indulgent way. Look at me, look at me.

“Let’s go, darling,” he mutters. “I’ll take you home.” 

You gather up words and intent, trying your hardest to formulate a response; it’s then that you black out completely. 

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

Mercy, Theseus finds himself thinking, cursing, again. He doesn’t know how many times he’s thought this plea since you came into his life again. God, you made him think it the first night he met you, asking for a kiss, your eyes dark and bright at once, a star-shattered night.

 He knows he can’t hold anything you do against you now, though. You’re truly, shockingly, appallingly and hilariously drunk. Your eyes have that sheen, so he knows you won’t remember any of it, that you’re blacked out.

“Please,” he begs you. His arms burn, though he’d never let on. A block back you’d rolled your ankle, hard on the cobblestone, so he is carrying you now, which wouldn’t be difficult if you weren’t thrashing about so much. “Y/N, please tell me where you live.”

“Why?” You cry, frowning at him. Petulant. Bratty. But sweet, sweet like everything you did. He wants to give you what you want, like always. It’s half for show, but he puts on his policeman voice to deny you. 

“You’re in no state to be outside your house. I need to get you safe and home to your sister,” he explains dutifully.

The two of you had gotten enough disapproving stares from passing Muggles. 

The mention of your sister does seem to jog some essential parts of your brain into sluggish action. You furrow your brow, thinking over something. 

Cute.

“No, noooooo,” you whine. “My sister–oh, my landlady! They can’t see me like this, Theseus. I’ll be put out. Isn’t there some spell or-”

He shakes his head silently before realizing that you’re too drunk to notice, he has to speak aloud to get your attention.

“No, no,” he insists. “It’s too tricky a thing to remove alcohol from the bloodstream with a spell. Too dangerous. If I had a potion, maybe a bezoar elixir, I could do it, but this… It’s best to go to sleep.” 

“Nooooooo,” you cry again, throwing your head back. 

An old woman on the other side of the road frowns at you, openly.

“Fine! Fine,” he hisses, adjusting your flailing form in his aching arms. “I’ll take you to my flat.” 

You hiccup and then start babbling indistinctly again. His face burns at the feel of you in his arms, your cheek against his chest. 

This was not how he thought he’d find you today. Usually so put together all the time. So withheld and resilient.

Sedated complacency and confused, excitable thrashing seem to be your only two modes now, so this needy, talky drunkenness is something he welcomes–a middleground. Besides, half of what you mumble is nonsense. 

It is worse when he can make out the nonsense. It is worse when he kicks open the door to his apartment and deposits you onto his couch. 

Theseus drops down on the opposite end of the large couch, exhausted, legs spread, head thrown to the side. Carrying you all this way winded him. Nearly dislocated a shoulder.

It shocks him nearly upright when he sees you trying to crawl towards him.

“Y/N,” he grumbles. He pinches his eyes shut quickly to rid you from his vision, but it’s burned in his memory. You crawling towards him on all fours. Fucking hell.

“Go to sleep,” his eyes are still shut when he says it.

“Theseus,” you don’t sound drunk. Your lips are spit-slick. You sound sultry. Demanding. “I want.. I want-”

“See? You can’t even talk properly, love. Go to bed.” He conceals the panic well enough. He doesn’t want to deny you. If you wanna fall all over him, he wants to let you. But he knows this isn’t right, isn’t respectable. 

You stop descending on him like a beautiful punishment and sit back with your legs crossed, just a cushion away from him. You don’t look or sound as drunk as you did before but he knows you are, you’d never act like this if there wasn’t alcohol in your bloodstream. 

You tilt your head at him and, for him, it’s torturous. 

“Okay. Come to bed with me then?” You sing-song. There’s a ditzy, woozy quality to your voice that wasn’t there before. Hadn’t ever been there. If you didn’t still smell like whisky he wouldn’t be able to resist your advances at all.

“No, no, no,” Theseus stands suddenly, speaking more to himself than you. He paces back and forth across his living room, troubled. This was insane. He shouldn’t have brought you here. He couldn’t say no to you. He knew it wasn’t within his power to.

Clothes falling off your shoulders. Looking at him all dizzy and blissed out. Pupils blown, lips wet.

You hiccup. He wants to tease you for it, but the next words out of your mouth make him choke.

“I-I wish you wore glasses,” you laugh dreamily. “I wanna make you keep them on so I can see them go all crooked when I fuck you.”

His whole body reacts. Throbs. He hisses painfully through his teeth. Tries to shut his eyes again but it’s futile. He could hate you for what you’re doing to him, actually detest you.

“Y/N, please stop talking.”

“Mmm, I thought that-”

“Stop. Talking.”

You giggle again and roll over on the couch, delighted, throwing your arms up above you.

Then, mercy, mercy, you’re trying (clumsily, unsuccessfully, what should be unsexily but it’s not to him, it’s absolutely not) to take off your clothes, pull off your top and tug off your tights. You whine in frustration when you can’t manage it.

You fall back in defeat. He can see you’re past the point of proactivity now. So long as he stays across the room he isn’t in danger. You couldn’t stumble over to him if you tried.

“Help me.” You order with a pout.

“No,” he smiles now, corner of his mouth curling, feeling confident and safe. Settles into the wooden chair at his small, square dining table and looks at you, amused. He’s still hard. “You really should listen to me, Y/N.” He says, a bit hotly. 

There’s fondness, but also a sort of angry, disciplinarian edge to his tone.

“I know! I already knowwww,” you retort, grouchily despite the fact that you’re agreeing with him. Oh, the drunken mind…

He should leave. He should carry you to his bedroom and then lock you in there until you sober up or pass out. He flexes his hand at the thought. No, he doesn’t trust himself to touch you now. He hates this, not being able to touch you. He loves you and he hates it. 

He’s saying the words, spitefully, before he can stop himself. 

“Did you know that your voice gets all high pitched right before you come? It’s cute, actually.”

His voice is a flat line, hard and unforgiving. He’s snappy and harsh and, when you moan softly at his words, he gets up and leaves you alone in his apartment. 

“I need to go on a walk. Go to sleep. Don’t move.”

The front door slams shut before you can even attempt to crawl your way over to him.

—-----------------------

You’re awake for several minutes before you can bring yourself to crack open your eyelids. It’s all pounding blackness in your head–a nightclub full of dementors. You’d laugh at the thought if everything didn’t hurt. 

Your mouth tastes awful. You don’t know where you are. 

“Theseus?” you mutter, rolling over in the very large, very foreign bed, opening your eyes at last.

There’s a small, purple bottle that’s labeled J. Pippin’s Hangover Remedy on the bedside table but even that makes your stomach turn. The thought of drinking any flavored liquid sends a shudder down your spine. 

You sit up and force yourself to take a pitiful swig anyway and chase it with the glass of water set there for you. The more you take in the scenery–the neat, cozy room, the water and potion, the newly bought women’s clothes laid out for you at the end of the bed–the more humiliation colors your cheeks.

“Oh, no,” you whine aloud, burying your face in your hands. The last thing you remember is the Armistice ceremony and then Theseus helping you tumble out of Mr. Bragg’s dark office in a whisky-flavored haze. This had to be Theseus’s bedroom.

Which meant….

You’re only wearing your tights and a camisole. Braving the hallway in your half-undressed state, you slip into the bathroom. There’s a toothbrush there too, which you snatch up greedily, eager to rid your mouth of this foul, boozy taste. After a quick, sobering shower and five too-long minutes of scrutinizing your flushed face in the mirror you walk cautiously out into the living room. You put on one of his shirts and boxer shorts rather than the clothes he’d bought and laid out for you. Your hair is damp and dripping, but smells clean and like his soap, like him. 

Through the windows, it's a cool and silver morning, the earliest light of day has that nascent, colorless quality. The dark hardwood floors of his apartment are quiet underfoot, and all things are still. Today feels new and clean and you’re hopeful he’ll forgive you.

What did you do last night? What did you say to him? You were so embarrassed, you just hoped that he’d still want you. That he wouldn't take back what he said about loving you. 

Theseus looks so funny with his arm jutting out from under him, his bare legs hanging crooked over the edge of the couch. You stifle a laugh despite yourself. 

It’s then, smiling at his sleeping form fondly, that you know. You’ve always felt it before, but now you know it. The certainty resting in your heart strengthens and glows.

You stand before him and tug his extended hand. He opens his eyes in innocent confusion. 

“What–Y/N-”

“Come to bed with me.”

He stares up at you uncomprehendingly, gaze bleary but fond. He’s so handsome it hurts. 

“Come on,” you laugh. “It’s still early. We can still sleep well.”

His oversized form on the small couch sits up. You want to run your hands through his hair, press your hands against the hard expanse of his chest and push him back down again. 

“Are you sure?” He asks calmly. 

“Come,” you repeat. This time when you pull him by the hand he lets you lead him. 

You fall into his bed together and he brings you into him, so impossibly naturally, like muscle memory. You feel your face blush but pay it no attention, you feel so warm and safe in the cradle of his body at last.

You have to tell him. Have to tell him how you feel.

You turn to face Theseus, still cradled in his arms, but the sight of him stoppers your throat.

“I–” You make a noise like choking. There’s a bright red mark down the side of his neck. “Theseus, your neck! What happened?”

He smiles softly at your face, contented and amused.

“I’m sorry to break this to you Y/N, but you might have raked your teeth down the side of my neck last night while I was trying to carry you to my bed.” 

You are undisguisably mortified. You gawk at him.

“It’s okay, Y/N!” He laughs reassuringly. “It’s fine, really. Despite you torturing me all night trying to get me to sleep with you, I stood my ground. Nothing happened.”

“Torturing you?!” Your eyes are blown wide and you can’t seem to close your mouth, except to wince. “Oh, Theseus, my behavior–I’m so humiliated, you have to forgive me–” 

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he says, all levity in his voice gone, only sincerity. He clasps your hands between your body and his, and you lean into the feeling.

When you still can’t look at him, red-faced and flustered, he leans forward so suddenly you nearly start back.

Theseus licks the column of your neck in a long line, punctuating it with a nip of his teeth that makes you gasp. 

“There,” he leans back and smirks at his handiwork. “Got you back. You can stop being sorry for antagonizing me now.”

Your heart is pounding, blood roaring in your ears. 

“Besides,” he adds, once it’s clear you’re done being mortified. “I admit that I even find your cruelty endearing. I’ve always hated meanness, but it doesn’t matter with you at all. That’s how I know I’ve been corrupted.”

You let yourself laugh at that. It’s so nice, being in bed with him. Wearing his clothes. Despite the context of how you got there, you feel at peace. 

“So,” he starts. “What do you remember?”

You shake your head and purse your lips.

“Mr. Bragg’s office. I tried to question him, it was a mission of mine. He’s not what he seems, Theseus. Mr. Bragg, Mr. Martin, I don’t know who else–they’re real threats to the Ministry.”

Theseus nods solemnly, taking it in.

“Okay, what else?”

You try to remember but the night comes back in fleeting scenes and flickering sensations. 

“You kept calling me sweet.” You whisper.

“That’s all then?” He doesn’t contest it.

“But I’m not sweet,” you insist, weakly. “Everyone says I’m not. I wish I was, but I’m not a sweet girl.”

“No,” Theseus grabs your hand again and rubs circles into it with his thumb. “You’re not sweet. You’re kind. It’s a stronger quality, Y/N. One with more conviction and spirit. Trust me.” 

You make a face at him, one meant to inspire pity.

“I’m not sweet?”

Theseus exhales through his nose in a huff, baffled, disarmed. Of course you would focus on that part of what he said. He flicks the tip of your nose with his finger and it makes you scrunch up your face. He’s staring at you so lovingly that it makes your teeth ache.

“You taste sweet enough to me.”

And then his mouth is on yours, hot and warm and wanting. Hungrier than you thought he was. You could never gauge how much he wanted you, how badly. It took you off-guard then, the first time you met him in his office, and it shocks you now. 

You’re racing to kiss him back with equal fervor. Your skin alights with pleasure every place that his skin meets yours, you come to life under those hands of his. 

Will it cease, this awestruck response he elicits? You want to one day get used to Theseus, to the wonder of him in front of you, so you can think straight around him. So you can enjoy him in a measured and rational way without praying on him like a star, without the winded pleasure of disbelief.

You whine when he pulls away from your mouth, but it’s quickly silenced by the feeling of his hands sliding under your shirt and over your breasts, squeezing and massaging them. Your nipples are so sensitive that his fingertips feel almost unbearably good. Painfully good.

“You have no idea the hell you put me through last night.”

“I’m sorry,” you moan.

“I’m not.” 

He takes your mouth with his again. The way he kisses you now feels like fucking in of itself, his tongue pressing in and in to your mouth, it feels like him showing what he wants to do to you. 

One of his hands drops from your chest and slips under the waistline of the pair of boxers you're wearing. His shirt, his boxers.

“Gonna make me fuck you while you wear my clothes, princess?”

You don’t know how he possesses the superpower of making you blush like a schoolgirl while his hands are quite literally down your pants. The display of shyness seems futile. 

He was so gentlemanly at work and in life. You didn’t know such words were capable of leaving his lips, but god they sounded good to you.

“Off,” you manage. “Take them off.” 

Theseus obliges you, hands big and warm as they gently lift the hem of your shirt over your head. He helps you shimmy out of the boxer shorts too. His hands move over all that bare skin with reverence, stroking and petting and grasping. 

“You’re beautiful-”

“I love you,” the words rush out at once, urgent. You need him to know, they need to be said. 

He looks stunned, leans back with a jerk and stares into your eyes with scrutiny and wonder. You don’t break his gaze. 

“Do you really?” He says, breathlessly.

“Yes,” and your eyes are welling with tears, you don’t know why. “I love you, Theseus.”

“God,” he groans, pressing you to him in an embrace so engulfing it makes you gasp. His hand snakes around the back of your head, his other arm wraps around your torso–a man, overcome. “I love you so much, Y/N.” 

It’s different when he starts to touch you again. Slower. Devout. He stares dead into your eyes with a concentration unmatched when he slips his fingers into you at last, his own eyes heavy-lidded with sleep and lust. It takes everything in you not to look away, the look in his eyes is so burning with desire it alone could be your ruin, make you come undone.

You feel yourself pulse around him, aching and squeezing around his hand. He curls his index slightly upwards so perfectly that every fuck of his fingers, every pump has you moaning raggedly. Your whole body saying yes, yes, yes to the tempo he’s set.

But you don’t want to come like this.

You start shaking your head before you can get any words out.

He’s watching you so intently he doesn’t need any words to read you.

“What is it?” There’s no teasing to his tone anymore, no condescension. He’s all caring dedication. When he slides his fingers out they’re soaked. “You want my cock?”

You nod, feeling strangely drunk again. 

He rolls his still-clothed hips against your bare, slick core experimentally and you moan loudly, inappropriately and unabashedly loudly. 

It makes him smile.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. So good. What do you want, baby? How do you want me?”

You can’t even think around him, you don’t know what possesses you to say what you do.

“From the back. I want you to take me from behind.”

Theseus’s eyes flash with something dark. His lips part and for a moment you think he’s going to deny you. He did like looking at your face, watching your reactions…

But then he’s getting up onto his knees and flipping you onto your stomach, roughly. The mattress heaves beneath the two of you.

You start to get up on all fours when his hand pushes you down hard, by the small of your back. Your body presses flat into the mattress with a gasp.

“Theseus-”

He straddles your thighs with his so you can’t even spread your legs when he presses his dick into your tight hole.

You whine and moan at the sensation of being stretched open by him. You can’t move at all trapped under his weight, you can’t even lift your hips–you can just bury your head and take it. He rocks his hips experimentally and, when you moan wantonly again, he leans down, bending his body over yours to nip the back of your ear with his teeth before pounding into you.

You know he just told you he loved you but, god, he was drilling you like he hated you, hand on the back of your neck, his pace relentless, pulling out completely before slamming back into you bruisingly. Your walls try to clamp down to slow his speed but it only makes it feel better, him splitting you open from behind.

You hear him groan at the feel of your walls constricting and fluttering around him. You orgasm suddenly and with a muffled whine, wishing you could roll your hips back into the feeling, but you’re still pinned beneath him, quivering and overstimulated. 

Dazed, you distantly remember last time you slept with him and cry brokenly. You don’t want that, him pulling out to come in his hand. 

“Theseus, I-” you know you’re incoherent, blabbering. Face half-shoved into his pillow. “Please come inside me. I-I want to feel it when-”

“Fuck,” he hisses. The sound of your voice has him coming hard, you feel it shoot warm into your pussy. His pace slows, rocking his half-hard cock a few more times into you before pulls out with a shaky breath at last. 

“Y/N,” Theseus turns you back over. His hands are searching, gentle. When he sees your expression, blissful and fucked-out, he smiles, stroking your face.

“God,” he groans, low, collapsing back down beside you. “I could stay in this bed with you forever.”

You hold onto his hand and bring it up to your mouth to kiss it, body still thrumming with pleasure.

After a while, he speaks again.

“Is.. Was that okay?” He asks, and it silences you, learns into something heavier like pain. “I just want to make sure that you’re not… inebriated anymore, not confused…”

“I was never confused,” you murmur, shaking your head softly. “I meant everything I said yesterday night, though I can’t remember what.” 

You realize with a start that you have to be honest now, or you’ll cry.

“It’s bad,” you continue. “I can’t ever pretend to feel something I don’t.”

“You pretended not to know me,” Theseus whispers the words into the pillow beside your head, like he’s setting them down next to you. His voice is too gentle and fond to be an accusation, but you still feel caught, like you’re in trouble.

“I didn’t think you’d remember me anyway. And… I was scared.”

“Of what, darling?”

Darling. This man would be the death of you. You’d give him anything he asked for. 

"Um," you bite your bottom lip hard, trying to ground yourself with the sharp reprimand of pain. Darling, he called you darling. "I guess, um, I was happy with how you see me now. That when I asked you to kiss me, you did this time. I didn't want to confuse you, I didn't want to do anything that might make it stop. You wanting me, I mean."

You don't feel terribly eloquent or coherent, but he's nodding encouragingly, understandingly.

He nudges your nose with his to get you to meet his eyes, and it makes you smile like you're just remembering how to. He reintroduces joy into your life like an old friend. Like a family member, it comes so naturally to him.

"I don't wanna scare you away either, Y/N. I told you I love you because I couldn't help it, the same way I touched you in my office because I couldn't help it. But I wanna make you mine in every way that I can."

You raise a brow, prompting him to clarify.

"Like what, you wanna...?" You can't finish the sentence, you need to hear him say it.

“I want to marry you, naturally.” Saying the words knocks something loose in him. The strength of his desire is deafening, like downed wine burning low in his stomach, roaring in his ears.

You laugh and he doesn’t understand or care why, he just knows the sound is angelic and smiles with stupid joy in response.

"Oh, you," you sigh. "Theseus, you could have anyone. Anyone." 

You don't mean to sound so bittersweet, so distant and reminiscing. He is handsome and strong and good, without even trying, he just is. He is charismatic and confident. The whole room falls into his orbit, is pulled into his gravity when he enters. 

It's not that you have nothing in common, but everything you love about him is everything that keeps him apart from you.

He shakes his head, dazed with happiness.

"There's only ever been you. It's always been you."

"I love you too," your eyes prick with tears. "I love you, Theseus. I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was, that I hid from you, that I didn't say it earlier. But I've loved you since I was a girl, even if I can't believe that you love me, I can still-"

"Y/N," he interrupts you, hushed and urgent. "I feel like it was very hard for you to love me. You seemed so conflicted and confused and pained, especially at the beginning. But, for me, loving you has been like breathing. This,” he raises your clasped hands between you. “This is easy. It’s who I am.”

When you close your eyes and drift off into a light, midday sleep, there are no clouds in the horizon of your mind, no dreams of war, only a small but glowing peace. 

--

taglist: @hotwheelsenthusiasthic @milasmithsblog @msauthor @asyouwish-fromcabin3 @karashawsblog

#theseus scamander #fantastic beasts #theseus scamander x reader #theseus x reader #hp fanfic #fbawtft

[candlecoo-sideb-art]

Oh god spiral!Martin's pants, they are hideous and are such a spiral coded thing lol. I love them and I feel like I'd go man if I saw them in person lol. I love spiral avatars wearing the most outrageous clothes <3

Does make me wonder what s1!archives would look like if they were all spiral avatars, or all of them all one type of avatar in gen tbh. I'm gonna put that on the burner to cook a bit cause I like that thought

I've been getting mixed reviews on Spiral/Martin's pants, either you love them or you hate them. Martin changes outfits constantly as a Spiral avatar. I personally adore how silly they are. But I did base them on Victorian outfits and runway fashion which is why they are so out there.

@the-lantern-lights also have an au where the entire s1 archival staff are avatars of different fears brought back to s1 from their own respective futures where they were the only ones in the archives to survive. It's a really fun au.

And I'm glad you like Spiral/Martin so here's a lil doodle:

#the magnus archive #tma #tma podcast #tma au #fear swaps tma #spiral!martin #digital art #my art #art #the magnus archives #fan art #tma spiral #tma martin #martin blackwood

[formulanando]

Boy, It's You I Desire | Fernando Alonso x Reader

part 1 | part 2

fem!reader x dbf! fernando

word count: 1.7k

minors dni please!

warnings: age gap, mentions of drinking, sexual innuendos, mentions of masturbation, delusion since i pretend fernando won the 2023 spanish gp

It was wrong. The deep, stirring feelings you had for Fernando. He was twenty years your senior, and had been friends with your dad for a decade and a half. You had pictures of him from his Renault days covering your bedroom when you were little, and he came to as many of your youth karting races as possible. These feelings? They had been there, transforming from a silly little crush when you were five to a tingling in your stomach when you turned sixteen. This summer was the first time you believed he felt the same.

Fernando had thought of you as a child. You were so much more than that to him, but the idea of loving you? That was wrong. Foreign. Somehow, the desire for you developed deep within him. Part of him loved the idea of having you as his secret.

Your father had met Fernando Alonso while your family was on vacation in Spain. There's a picture of you and your brothers as chubby elementary schoolers.You sitting in the sand in Oviedo with a twenty-something Fernando kneeling behind you. It is your mother’s favorite picture of her little family. Since Fernando was family to you and your two younger brothers. It sits in a wooden frame on the kitchen counter, in your family’s vacation home in Spain, where you now spend every summer. It used to feel like a happy memory, but now it seems to haunt you with what you can never have.

This summer in Oviedo felt no different than the many previous. You sat by the pool, spent time with some of your friends there, went out to eat, and occasionally went to the club. Dancing in a dark, sweaty room after a few drinks helped to ease the fact that you had not seen the older man in close to a year. It still mystified you at how you were practically in love with him. Whether it was actually him, or the figment of him your imagination romanticized, you were unsure.

Regardless, numerous boyfriends, and flings could not erase the crush that ate at the pit of your stomach. A flash of messy brown hair when you were walking downtown had your heart squeezing in your chest. Even worse, these feelings had recently crept back into play, at the dawn of the new Formula 1 season. He was your childhood crush. You reasoned that everyone had a goofy love for one of their distant relatives or parent’s friends when they were small, but at the age of twenty-three, you were unable to just write what you felt off.

Your parents had gone to see Fernando at the Spanish Grand Prix this weekend, and it was just you and your brothers flitting in and out of the house. They were eighteen, and sixteen, so you figured you would just stay out of each other’s way. You wished that you were able to travel with your parents to the Grand Prix, but you had never been deeply interested in autosport, and suddenly feigning interest would raise questions you felt no desire to answer. Your parents would tease you, saying you only wanted to go for Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, or Fernando’s teammate, Lance Stroll. Standing in the Aston Martin garage would have sent you over the edge. You would have embarrassed yourself trying to hide the feelings you felt to be very obvious. Interacting with Fernando in his natural environment practically would have had you purring, and pressing your thighs together. Which is obviously not something you were into happening in front of your fucking family.

You watched the race, and wished even more that you went. Max Verstappen's Red Bull had qualified ahead of the Aston Martin, but he had suffered a very convenient engine failure in the closing laps. Fernando moved into first with ease. It was his thirty-third win, coming over ten years after his last. You knew he had to feel on top of the world, winning at his home Grand Prix. The crackly radio message yells and celebrations heard on your television were nowhere near the extent of it all. You pretended to be excited to your parents on the phone, about them telling you all about the paddock, but in reality, there was only one person you really cared about.

You desired nothing more than to be the woman he finds after being the highest on the podium. The one waiting on the bed in his hotel room, ready to feel his illicit touch. The thrill you know you would feel from having him buried deep inside you, without your parents having any idea. It made you want to rush to him. You played these filthy scenarios in your head while you touched yourself, and before you fell asleep every night. And tonight would be no exception. Trying to pretend your fingers were his, after you had a few drinks to numb the intensity of what you were feeling. Desperately hoping he was lying awake, wishing he could roughly pull your hair, and capture your lips with a searing kiss. In summation: you wanted Fernando Alonso to ruin you.

You woke up the Tuesday following the race to your parents’ voices downstairs. Laughter, clinking dishes, and suitcases rolling across the tile floor awoke you earlier than expected. You laid in bed, a warm breeze flowing in from your room’s open windows. You listened, despite a grueling headache from the previous two nights’ crosses between self-care and self-pity. What you did not expect to hear was that Spanish accent dancing among your parents’ casual conversation. A sensation of overwhelming excitement and a pinch of fear mixed in your stomach. Maybe something would happen…

You knew you should have probably put something more appropriate on before you went downstairs. But Fernando seeing you in your threadbare, oversized Renault shirt and barely visible pajama shorts was worth any potential consequences. Your little ploy worked. As much as you paid attention to him, you missed the way his eyes flicked downward, roaming your chest, stopping at the top of your exposed thighs. He started to really look at you. Like you were some beautiful young woman he met at a track or club. He felt himself split, one half wanted to take you on your kitchen island, making you cry out from him. From him only, not the little boyfriend you probably had. The other half remembered who you were to him. You were one of his closest friends’ children. That truth he was unable to escape. What if he was able to bend this rule? He pushed any thought of you from his mind, and easily reentered the conversation after falling into his aforementioned daze.

You practically ran to Tío Fernando, greeting him with an overzealous hug. As you always had, you lovingly buried your face deep in his shoulder, inhaling his expensive cologne. You could have been mistaken, but it felt as if he pressed himself to you more eagerly than was technically appropriate. You were going insane, this man should be a father-figure to you. Not an older man you were objectifying to filth, though many other women would leap at the chance to.

“Hola, cariño. My favorite girl is doing well, yes?” You practically melted at the way he smiled down at you. He rubbed a small circle on your back, as he had not seen you in awhile. You had always known you were his favorite. It had been obvious since you were small. You were both fierce, stubborn, and proud. Yet you desperately held onto the possibility of something beyond the base relationship you already had. You wanted to clash with him. Fight him, and fuck him.

“Thank god you’re here! I missed my favorite tío.” You reluctantly left his warm embrace, and greeted your parents. He let out his signature laugh at your response. You felt your face burning underneath your skin, praying that a flush was not spreading across your cheeks. The conversation passing between the three other adults continued while you slowly ate breakfast. Your brothers eventually filed into the kitchen and were greeted by Fernando with quick claps on the back. Fernando was practically unable to turn his gaze away from you when there were lulls in the conversation. 

In the year that you had not seen each other, a lot had changed. Fernando looked more youthful, and less worn down after his departure from Alpine. You had seen the physical transformation on television and the internet, as every fan had. He had always been fine, but now, goddamn, you needed to watch out. Green was his color. It complemented his tanned, caramel skin, and his brown, almost hazel, eyes. 

You spent the rest of the morning, and into the early afternoon, laying by the pool as you usually did. You donned one of your prettiest, and coincidentally, smallest string bikinis to lay out and enjoy the warm Spanish sun. The sky was clear, and the air was miraculously less humid than usual. Both of your brothers and your parents had left to do something, but you had not listened when they told you their plans. Fernando was still home, but you figured he was probably busy in a meeting or debrief with his team, and you did not want to bother him any more than you already had. Now, the only noises to disturb you were a lawn mower a couple of houses away, or a car passing by the facade of your house. 

The warmth of the ground radiated from underneath the towel you were laying on, and you began to fade into a light sleep. You must have dozed off for a few minutes, as you were awoken by someone ghosting their hand across your back, having gently brushed your hair from where it had laid. You jolted upright, raising a hand to cover your eyes. They finally adjusted to the harsh afternoon sunlight once more, and you realized it was Fernando who had woken you up. He was crouching only inches away from where you had been laying. You could practically feel his breath on the side of your neck before you turned to look at him properly.

“You are going to burn if you keep laying out here like that,” He smiled, crinkles forming around his tan face. You shifted your arms to cover one another to disguise the goosebumps the small caress had given you. His focus shifted to your arms, and you were sure that he noticed exactly what you were trying to hide.

“Well, thank you for saving me from a nice tan.” You playfully rolled your eyes at him, and started to get up. Fernando quickly grabbed your arm, pulling you back down.

He sucked his tongue against his teeth to scold you. “Since you are already dressed for it,” His gaze dropped to your microscopic bikini top, where it settled for longer than it should have, “I think we should go for a swim.” Saying that you were surprised was an understatement.

“Alright.” you had not expected yourself to be so compliant, as you were not in a big swimming mood. Fuck, Fernando could make you do anything. 

—

author’s note: thank you so much for reading my first work! i don’t think this was very good, since writing fiction isn’t really my forte. but, this is my silly little hobby before i start college so whatever. the next part is coming soon and feel free to message me with ideas, if you want to be tagged, or anything like that. you are the goat for reading this :)

#fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #fernando alonso smut #f1 fic #f1 #aston martin formula one #aston martin f1 #dbf! #fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso x you

[specificallyjude]

social media au: fanboying

pairing: mason mount x driver!fem!reader

summary: a private, but not secret relationship being ruined by the one and only lando norris warnings: swearing. this is also a female reader fic so pls keep that in mind before reading. author note: please ignore any inconsistencies, this is all fake so don't take anything too seriously. I originally starting making this while mason was at chelsea, but then transfer season happened and I had to scrap everything and start over. also if you ever see me reuse any photos in future au's...no you didn't.

----------------⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆------------------

₊˚⊹♡ monaco gp 22 ♡⊹˚₊

y/n.username

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, and 1,453,778 others

y/n.username monaco you will always be iconic ⭐️

view all 34,950 comments

user i love the y/n and seb duo

user aaahhh everything about y/n in monaco is iconic

landonorris does monaco being iconic have anything to do with your good luck charm being in the paddock this weekend?

↳ user uuuhhh lando is there something you want to share with the class??

↳user do we think he's referring to a man

↳user he better not be, y/n is my wife

masonmount

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 789,345 others

masonmount first time in monaco. thank you @redbullracing

view all 34,234 comments

landonorris hey mate 👋

user what is lando doing here??

↳ user I'm pretty sure he's friends with mason

↳ user yeah there's pictures of them at the McLaren headquarters together

↳ user wow...this is such a random crossover

y/n.username posted a story

replies:

user omg did you meet any of the players???

user girl i thought you were a villa supporter. what is this betrayal??!!?

↳ y/n.username don't worry i'm here for business purposes only

user does there happen to be a good luck charm on the field??

₊˚⊹♡ [time jump] barcelona gp 23 ♡⊹˚₊

liked by y/n.username, maxverstappen1, and 785,234 others

masonmount always good luck in barcelona

view all 653,589 comments

redbullracing so glad to have ya this weekend 👏

↳ user mason's biggest flaw is being a red bull fan

user are we not gonna talk about y/n liking this post

↳ user relax she's allowed to like other people's posts

↳ user ikik but mason also used good luck in his caption, and lando did say she had a good luck charm in the paddock last year in monaco

↳ user they could just be friends you know

↳ user he's also friends with lando who is starting front row tomorrow so it could be about that

y/n.username

liked by masonmount, landonorris, and 945,252 others

y/n.username i was forced to spend the whole flight next to this idiot. please barcelona be good to me.

view all 264,305 comments

lando norris boo tomatoes...you literally wanted to fly together

↳ mason mount i mean she does have a point though

↳ y/n.username thank you 🙏 finally someone with common sense

user guys we got our first mason x y/n interaction...i'm calling it they're dating

↳ user ngl they would be cute together

↳ user them being lando's collective biggest hater is so silly

↳ user couples who hate together, stay together

user why do y'all ship y/n with everyone she talks too, i've had enough

↳ user i know, at this point people think she's dating half of the grid

↳ user it's gets so annoying I don't know how she handles it

f1 drama just posted

Aston Martin driver y/n y/l/n seen with a mystery man after 2023 Barcelona gp. They were seen entering and leaving a driver's after party together following race day. Who do you think this mystery man could be? Could it be a fellow driver or possibly her alleged good luck charm?

comments

user i'm telling y'all it's charles

↳ user nah nah nah it's definitely mick

↳ user you're all delusional

user i feel like he's not a driver, maybe a footballer?

user @f1drama you guys need to stop posting shit like this and let her date in peace. this is her private life.

↳ user fr respect her privacy

₊˚⊹♡ [time jump] 2023 summer break ♡⊹˚₊

mickshumacher posted a story

y/n.username

liked by masonmount, sebastianvettel, and 854,348 others

y/n.username a well deserved break 💐

view all 237,947 comments

sebastianvettel I hope you're having a nice summer holiday

↳ y/n.username awww i am, come back please, we miss you

↳ sebastianvettel we?

↳ y/n.username i*

↳ user seb really exposed her on main

landonorris nice flowers

↳ user what do you know that we don't ??

↳ user no because who the fuck is that... we MUST know

user y/n casually soft launching a relationship this really is silly season

user queen please tell us who that is and if he can fight

user I'd buy her an even bigger bouquet if she'd just give me a chance

lando.jpg posted a story

y/n.username

liked by masonmount, fernandoalo_oficial, and 1,598,268 others

y/n.username my good luck charm 🌟 (@landonorris you better watch you're back)

view all 794,284 comments

landonorris everybody makes mistakes, everybody has those days 🤷‍♂️

↳ landonorris I should not have to witness you two being gross and clingy by myself

↳user NOT THE HANNAH MONTANA LYRICS

↳user honestly landos story was a public service act

masonmount love you my flower 🤍💐

↳ masonmount but let's be real you don't need me as a good luck charm

↳ user stop he's cute and supportive and calls her flower. I need to lie down

↳ user is it a reference to the summer break post?

sebastianvettel congratulations you two from the whole family !!!

↳ y/n.username thank you 🤍

↳ user omg seb is such a dad

↳ user stop they're interactions are always so wholesome

charles_leclerc so this means no more googly eyes at each other across the paddock right?

↳ danielricciardo I don't think that's gonna happen mate

↳ user so basically everyone on the grid knew

↳ user the way they're all complaining about how in love y/n and mason are...my heart is hurting

masonmount

liked by y/n.username, benchilwell, and 1,734,027 others

masonmount my girlfriend is in fact hotter than you

view all 625,804 comments

y/n.username please delete immediately

↳ y/n.unsername I have never worn a man utd shirt. this is defamation. villa for life.

↳ masonmount you're too cute

↳ y/n.username hehe love you 💕

benchilwell so happy for you (please stop making out in front of me it's traumatising)

user can they let us live pls I can't handle all of these cute ass posts

↳ user some of us are too single for this

↳ user I need to go lie down on a highway

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 x female reader #f1 x driver!reader #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #football imagine #football x reader #mason mount instagram au #my writing #mason mount

[annabelle--cane]

righty, some s1 relisten thots:

jon truly, deeply understands something that I think a lot of people don't: you have to be funny if you're going to be a massive bitch. imagine if he'd said any of that stuff about martin or the statement givers but completely seriously. that would be so fucked up and mean. but it's forgivable because he was a silly little guy about it. "a somewhat tasteless joke about loose tongues."

why do so many people come to the magnus institute to give a statement about a supernatural experience when they don't believe in the supernatural and think the institute is a load of nonsense. bro you could just not go.

mag 26 in the post-statement convo with sasha is the first time that I feel like jon really sounds like the jon I know. out of universe this is probably about just finally settling into the right character voice but in universe oohh the implications. yes, jon seems most comfortable with and trusting of sasha out of everyone he works with, and that's reflected in his rapport with her, but I also think mag 26 is a real shock to his system that makes him drop a lot of his facade. like "oh god, this has happened twice now, we're really facing something."

#tma #marina marvels at life