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#factors might be a better word but whatever
anantaru · 3 months
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— does he like it when you're being clingy?
including wriothesley, neuvillette, kaveh, scaramouche x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff & crack, lots of physical touch, established relationship, kissies, love sick genshin men
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— wriothesley
as much as wriothesley shows off his strong demeanor for the outside world to see, he cannot lie to himself when it comes to you— because the duke likes seeing you be clingy with him and search for his vehemence.
to him, there was nothing better than having your arms all padded up around him while you kiss his little worries away— so for all he cares, let the outside world call him bewitched if they must, or caught in an angelic spell for that matter. to wriothesley it didn't sound bad nor did he really give a damn about what a so called nobody would say about his life, alongside the fact that he found it quite amusing whenever they did talk about him.
the duke was exceptionally gentle with you, but sometimes he just wants to be able to see you love him in a whole differing modus other than you simply uttering out the three delicate words— in fact, wriothesley too, cares about you so much that he's trying to keep you around all the time, having you enveloped in his arms like he always daydreams of whenever you were apart from each other— hoping that you'd visit him so he could listen to whatever story you might tell him about.
now, was this a new feeling? well, yes. simply put, it was one he had never experienced before. the man had always been faithful, protective and nurturing in his life, so when love solidified the senses of his body, wriothesley was able to finally share his love with somebody.
what you did not know was that wriothesley was slightly frightened in the early stages of your relationship, to someone like the duke it wasn't particularly a breezy walk in the park to open up to another individual and realize that for the first time in his life, he was able to trust someone undoubtedly without fearing a possible mistreat.
now, he admits his love to you when he felt ready to do so, and when he does spell out the three words that bonded a relationship anew, your lips curl deeper into a passionate smile as he kisses the sides of your mouth.
your company alone was an important determination factor of his mood, and although he doesn't want to trouble you with his work, nor was he really allowed to share important and confidential details, wriothesley was certain that you would always be there to listen to him no matter what crossed his mind.
interesting how his heart has not once melted in his entire life prior to finding his soulmate. that's why in his eyes, there is no truer language than the language of love.
a cruel world that has been so cold go him surely wouldn't give him such wonderful gift?
alas, it did— wriothesley could feel it in his bones whenever you held him close to your chest late at night, his ear shell quietly pressed right above your heart. the silent vibrations place a pure tepidness of passion on his soul when he finds himself gradually softening to it, on all occasions smiling as he falls asleep in your arms.
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— neuvillette
in the early stages of your relationship, when you had first placed your lips on neuvillette's, the three letter announcement evaporates from his tongue as fluid as when sunlight enters the raindrops and emerges as rainbows from afar.
and yes, much to his surprise he didn't die because of it, who would've saw that coming? although the iudex wholeheartedly believed that he would suffer from a cardiac arrest due to the vast bursts of anxiety gradually chugging away his confidence.
"can i sit on your lap?" you smile gently, unsure whether his silence is that of enthusiasm or distaste.
neuvillette can hardly register it at first before he presses out a pathetic little yes when his excitement reaches the roof of his head and violently breaks through it, showing you those open and loving eyes that were the golden entry to his soul.
you hear a deep, breathless pant when you sit on him, witnessing how a hefty amount of redness catches up to his face until battering his ears, ultimately coaxing out a shiver from his spine.
don't misunderstand his unusual reactions— but neuvillette couldn't quite fathom that you belonged to him and sought out his body like that, it's always special when you nonchalantly rounded your hands on his face and replenished his energy anew, as if his frame was reborn in its most perfect form solely when he felt your trace.
and so, he cannot get enough of your warmth— no wonder when you remind yourself of the pure emotions that he harbored deeply for you.
instinctively, you rest your body against his chest, a soft glow rounding up your facial features, "ah, can't wait until you're done with this," you huff and point at his office desk being crowded by a bunch of papers as you press a small peck against the tip of his nose, ruffling his hair a little.
"it is rather late, you mustn't stay here," he insists, a barely distinctive curve of his lips turning all the difference in the choice of his tone.
"oh? does that mean you want to get rid of me?" how terribly skilled you were when you soaked your words in viscous sarcasm— so skillful in fact that neuvillette would always fall for it head first, or that's what you thought.
he raises a brow before curving one arm around your waist, leaning you against his chest so you wouldn't be able to move an inch, even if you tried.
"now," he playfully scolds, "you, my love, couldn't be farer from the truth."
"and here i thought you must know me by now?"
"i'm joking with you!" you panic, battering his cheek with little kisses as if he didn't know— but neuvillette sees how happy you were whenever you believed you fooled him.
he cocks an eyebrow at you, his mannerism in a questioning stance.
"apologies, aren't jokes supposed to be humorous?"
you scoff, "hmpf, now you're just mean!"
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— kaveh
from an outer perspective, one couldn't possibly figure out who was clingier towards the other person— and even with someone being a close friends of the both of you, it's beyond the bounds of possibility to crown a winner.
you or kaveh? who yearned for the attention of the other more? to answer such difficult question, you should first know of the moniker a certain scribe has given you, in fact, within your friend-group kaveh and you had instantly claimed the title of most insufferable couple.
you might wonder, was that a bad thing? oh well, not at all!
and kaveh doesn't even attempt to conceal the priceless smirk on his face whenever he heard his roommate address the both of you as that— it turned him deeply fulfilled that everyone was able to see how crazy he was about you.
your heart feels full by his comforting arms that each throb rattles across your limbs and muscles, feeling weightless at the welcoming cradle— your love being whole, one touch and a gentle kiss on the lips and you feel on a bed of roses, tucked up in velvet.
"what is it?" kaveh leans at you, raising a brow at the way you peak behind his shoulder. during closer inspection, you catch up on a sneaky little smirk that frames his lips the more you focused on what's behind him, "c'mon baby, tell me," kaveh kisses your cheek.
"i think they're calling us insufferable again." you point behind his shoulder, specifically at a table with three people— one wholly focused on the cards in his hands and remaining unbothered while the others sneakily glanced over to you every now and then, whispering incoherent mumbles into each others ears with their palms covering their lips.
and your words don't achieve anything besides making him all the more amused when he wraps his arms around your waist, it's evident, very much so but kaveh was fond of the situation— perhaps he even prided himself on it, he has the audacity to act surprised though.
he laughs, nudging the tip of his nose against your jaw, "they're probably just talking about a way to beat cyno in tcg."
he continues, "we should leave early," and states firmly, "but i think alhaitham took my keys again."
"how does this always happen?" you note tiresomely before dropping your head onto his shoulder— a little too dramatically so that the scribe picked up on it immediately, revealing a triumphant smirk.
perhaps that is why they say love is such magic, this gift from the universe that was unable to be compared, this sweet addiction that no matter what situation you were in, big or small, if it's the two of you facing it together, it was nothing.
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— scaramouche
even if scaramouche doesn't straight out admit it to you, he likes it whenever you were clingy with him— and after a good while of you two being in a relationship, he will more and more show his genuine love of it until he’s practically playing with the thought of begging for more.
in the beginning it starts by how fast his cheeks flame red and his focus dwindling as you hug him. after that particular encounter scaramouche memorizes what you did and decides that this must be a proper way to greet you as well— maybe even give you a little kiss on the cheek if he's feeling like it.
scratch that, what he lacks was the courage to go that far.
but no matter how often you would greet him this way, the action alone send him spiraling, shyly snuggling closer to you, inch by inch, although not risking it to hold eye contact and instead averting his gaze as he attempts to indulge in it nervously— stiff as concrete with both arms frozen on each side of his body when you wrapped your limbs around him.
he leans into your touch and closes his eyes— how warm, it's as if the sun itself would shine down on him and prickle on his skin, you feel so whole, like a home.
your touch, it's difficult to explain besides the fact that it carries such passion, and before scaramouche could register it— what was once scarred long ago expresses gentleness all of a sudden. 
although not everything from his past could be forgotten, yet your presence made it bearable.
what was also a crucial task to scaramouche was his recent curiosity in understanding the concept of love and how he fell for it— while he ultimately came to the conclusion that the only way to understand love is to feel it, attempt to embody it, or embrace it in its complete form. 
next time, you greet him with a blank look on your face as he applies your method on you first, slightly catching you off guard as he welcomes you home almost wordlessly, taking your hand in his cold one when he pulls you into a hug— it is a silent engage and the way he practically dragged you into him made your forehead smack his shoulder.
thankfully scaramouche doesn't have to speak in order for you to understand what he was trying to signalize here.
what's following next would be considered even sillier than him blatantly copying you, but when the two of you walk alongside each other through the hustling streets of sumeru city, you flinch a little at a strong grab on your hand ambushing you, "hey, nope— hold on, stop walking and give me your hand dammit," scaramouche scoffs as he chases after it, when with a quick motion, he traps it finally and tangles his digits around your own.
"there's no fun if i make it easy," you wink, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his jaw, "i like the faces you make when you're mad, you know? your expressions are so cute."
"don't you realize you're wasting time like that?" scaramouche clicks his tongue before squeezing your hand in his grasp, letting out an audible hmph before turning his head towards the street.
"honestly? that's fine by me," you coo softly, smothering him with the attention he craves as more of your fingers dig into the soft flesh of his palm.
"as long as you still love me, of course."
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pucksandpower · 5 months
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Changing Lanes
Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc always thought he would spend the rest of his career racing in red. But you make him see that he deserves better than false promises and unrequited love
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“Took you long enough,” you say, lounging casually on the small leather couch in Charles’ driver’s room, your fingertips tracing intricate patterns on the cushion beside you.
Charles raises an eyebrow, letting out a dry laugh as he kicks off his shoes. “Every single time I see you, Y/N, you always have something to say.”
You linger on him. “Is it my fault you had to chat with the entire paddock before coming here?”
He smirks, crossing the room. “It’s called being polite. Something you could learn from.”
“Polite?” You scoff, feigning innocence. “Oh, like how Ferrari celebrated that P3 like it was a win? That kind of polite?”
Charles stiffens but he keeps his cool. “We take what we can get.”
You tilt your head, eyes narrowing. “Starting on pole and settling for P3? Charles, you deserve better.”
“I know,” he sighs, avoiding your gaze. “But this is racing. Sometimes it just doesn’t go your way.”
You lean in closer, your voice dropping an octave. “It could, though. If you were with a team that actually valued you, that gave you a car worthy of your talent.”
He looks up, meeting your gaze with a challenge. “You mean Red Bull?”
A coy smile plays on your lips. “It’s not a secret that Dad wants you. And imagine … you, in a competitive car, and me, right by your side as your race engineer.”
Charles’ eyes dart to your lips then back up to your eyes. “Tempting,” he murmurs, leaning in just a fraction closer. “But is this for the team or for you?”
“Can’t it be both?” You whisper back.
His breath hitches and he pulls back slightly. “This isn’t just about racing, is it?”
You hesitate. “I see how they treat you. How they let you down time and time again. But with us ... with me ... it would be different.”
He looks conflicted. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?” You press. “With Red Bull, you’d have support, a competitive car, and … me.”
Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not just about what happens on track. It’s about the politics, the contracts, the media ... it’s all complicated.”
“You make it sound like an impossible puzzle,” you say, tracing circles on his wrist. You gaze locks with his, trying to convey everything you feel.
“It might be.”
You lean in, lips just inches from his. “Then let’s solve it together.”
He hesitates, searching your eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.”
You smirk, confidence oozing from every pore. “Isn’t that what racing’s all about?”
Charles chuckles softly, the tension in the room slowly melting away. “You always have an answer for everything.”
“It’s the Horner in me,” you retort with a smug smile. “Besides, aren’t you tired of being just another pawn in Ferrari’s game?”
“It’s not easy. To just switch teams, to give up on something you’ve worked for your entire life.”
You reach up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Who says you’re giving up? You’d be making a choice. A choice to be somewhere you’re valued. Somewhere you have a real shot at the championship. With people who truly care about you and actions that reflect that.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just about the racing. There are so many other factors.”
“Like what?”
He opens his eyes, meeting yours. “Like us.”
You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“If I come to Red Bull … if I work with you … it changes everything. Our relationship. Our dynamic. Everything.”
You take a moment, absorbing his words. “We can handle it. We’re strong enough.”
He gives you a sad smile. “I wish I had your confidence.”
You cup his cheek, your thumb stroking his skin. “You have me. Together, we can face anything.”
Charles looks at you for a long moment, his emotions raw and exposed. Finally, he speaks. “I’ll think about it. But whatever I decide … know that it’s not just about racing. I refuse to give you up.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
He raises an eyebrow. “What?”
You lean in, your lips brushing his ear. “Never settle for less than you deserve.”
He smiles, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “Same goes for you, Y/N Horner.”
***
“I still can’t believe they forgot to remove the radiator blank,” you murmur, your fingers softly tracing patterns on Charles’ bare chest as he lies next to you in his São Paulo hotel. The dim light from the bedside lamp paints soft shadows on his face, emphasizing the frustration in his eyes.
Charles sighs heavily, turning his head to look at you. “Neither can I. Another race, another issue. I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore.”
You lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear. “You don’t deserve this, Charles. You’re better than this. Better than them.”
He chuckles humorlessly, eyes closing. “It seems like it’s one thing after another.”
“Come to Red Bull,” you whisper, fingertips dancing down his arm. “You know it’s the right move.”
He opens his eyes, looking deep into yours. “Y/N, we talked about this.”
You press a gentle kiss on his jaw, speaking against his skin. “Hear me out. If McLaren overtakes Ferrari in the Constructors’ standings, you can activate your exit clause. You could leave them, Charles.”
Charles swallows hard, feeling the warmth of your breath on his neck. “And if they don’t?”
“Then we’ll buy you out,” you say confidently, trailing kisses down his collarbone. “Dad’s already spoken about it. We want you. I want you.”
Charles’ breath catches as your hands explore his torso but he tries to focus. “Equal status with Max?”
“Of course,” you assure him, pressing your body flush against his. “You and Max, racing side by side. Just think of the possibilities.”
He groans, both from your touch and the tempting offer. “A car designed by Adrian Newey ...”
You nod, “With plenty of oversteer, just how you like it. No more one-sided compromises.”
He laughs softly. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
You smirk, lips hovering over his. “Always. And instead of Xavi, you’d hear my voice on the other end of the radio, guiding you, supporting you.”
Charles captures your lips with his, deepening the kiss before pulling back. “You’re making it very hard to think.”
“That’s the point,” you whisper with a playful grin, your hands tugging at his waistband.
He bites his lip, trying to resist your charms. “But Y/N ... it’s not just about the racing. It’s ... it’s us. What happens to us?”
You cup his cheek, gazing deep into his eyes. “We fight together, we win together. Every podium, every championship, we celebrate together.”
He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “You make it sound so perfect.”
“It can be,” you promise, pressing soft kisses on his eyelids. “With Red Bull, you’d have everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And me.”
Charles smiles, caressing your cheek. “You’re very persuasive, you know?”
You grin. “It’s one of my many talents.”
He chuckles, capturing your lips once more. “I’ll think about it.”
“Whatever you decide, I’ll still be by your side.”
He smiles, pulling you closer. “I know. And that’s what makes this decision so hard.”
***
“Absolutely unbelievable,” your father mutters, watching the replay of Ferrari’s disastrous double stack. “You would think they’ve never done a pit stop before.”
You nod, equally shocked. But your attention shifts as the familiar figure of your favorite Monegasque storms into the Red Bull garage, his helmet still on and visor obscuring his face. You can feel the fury emanating from him.
“Charles?” You question hesitantly.
He doesn’t respond to you but instead turns to your father, “Christian, can we talk? Now. Somewhere private.”
Christian looks taken aback by the intensity in Charles’ voice but nods. “Of course.”
Charles glances at you. “You too, Y/N. Please.”
You follow, the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders. Once inside the small office, Charles finally removes his helmet, revealing eyes red from restrained tears. He takes a moment, collecting himself before he speaks.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Charles exhales. “Every single time I think they’ve hit rock bottom, they find a new low. Today was the last straw.”
You approach him, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Charles, I’m so sorry.”
Your father is equally sympathetic. “That was hard to watch. I can’t even imagine what it felt like.”
Charles closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just today. It’s everything. I gave them everything. I wanted to win with them. For my father. For Jules.”
You swallow hard, emotions swirling. “They would be so incredibly proud of you. No matter what.”
He blinks back tears, voice strained. “I wanted to drive that red car to the top for them. But I can’t keep sacrificing myself for a team that clearly does not value me in return.”
Your father speaks up, “Charles, if you’re thinking of a change ... Red Bull is ready to welcome you with open arms.”
Charles looks up, locking eyes with him. “I know. And as much as Ferrari has been my dream, my home, I can’t do this anymore. I want to be with a team that values me. I want to join Red Bull.”
You’re taken aback by his sudden declaration but the look in his eyes tells you that he’s made up his mind. “Charles,” you whisper, stepping closer. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“It’s hard,” he admits. “But this is where my heart is telling me to go.”
Your father gives the two of you a moment, leaving the office to give you privacy.
Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you close. “I never imagined leaving Ferrari. But after everything, I know it’s the right decision.”
You wrap your arms around him, resting your forehead against his. “They will be so proud of you, Charles. No matter what colors you wear or what car you drive.”
He smiles weakly. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”
You pull back slightly, searching his eyes. “This is a big step. I don’t want you to regret anything. Are you still sure?”
He nods, determination in his gaze. “More than I’ve ever been.”
You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Then welcome to Red Bull.”
***
“I have to tell Ferrari,” Charles straightens, determination evident in his eyes. “I just need to get it over with. Will you come with me?”
“Of course.“
Charles grabs your hand, pulling you towards his driver’s room. “Wait here,” he says, going in and returning moments later with his Ferrari jacket. He places it over your Red Bull team polo, attempting to keep your allegiance concealed for now. You both then proceed to the debrief room where the Ferrari team is waiting.
Fred Vasseur begins his speech the moment you both enter, “This wasn’t how we wanted to end the year but looking ahead to next season—”
Charles cuts him off, “Actually, there won’t be a next season. Not for me.”
The room falls into a tense silence, all eyes on the driver who has given them his heart and soul.
“What do you mean?”
Charles takes a deep breath, “I’ve decided to leave Ferrari.”
Gasps fill the room. Fred’s eyes land on you, finally noticing the Red Bull logo peeking out from under the jacket you’re borrowing. “And you bring her, of all people, here to tell us this?”
Charles squares his shoulders. “Y/N is here because I asked her to be. This decision is mine and mine alone.”
Xavi stands up, “After everything we’ve done for you! This is how you repay us?”
You can’t hold back any longer. “Everything you’ve done? You mean the countless strategy mistakes, the endless car issues, the complete lack of support?”
Another team member cuts in, “This is not your place, Y/N!”
“It is today,” you retort. “I’m here to support my new driver.”
Charles’ voice shakes but he speaks with conviction, “I gave everything for this team. I bled Ferrari red. But I can’t keep doing this. Not when it’s clear that my effort and commitment is not matched in return.”
Fred’s voice softens. “Charles, we’ve had our challenges but we can overcome them together.”
Charles shakes his head, tears threatening to spill. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m joining Red Bull. My manager will send over the necessary legal paperwork as soon as possible.”
The room is filled with murmurs, disbelief evident on every face. Charles takes one last look around, his eyes filled with pain, and turns to leave.
You follow closely, feeling the weight of every step as you exit the debrief room.
The second you’re around the corner, Charles breaks down. He rests his forehead against the wall, tears rolling down his face silently. “I didn’t ... I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”
You pull him close and try to find the right words. “It was never going to be easy. But you did what you had to. For yourself. For your future.”
He turns to look at you, eyes red-rimmed but determined. “I just wanted to make them proud.”
You cup his cheek, wiping away a tear with your thumb. “They would be proud of you. Not for the badge you wear or the car you drive but for the man you’ve become.”
Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you into a tight embrace. The two of you stand there for a moment, finding solace in each other’s presence.
When he finally pulls away, he manages a weak smile. “Thank you. For standing by me.”
You squeeze his hand. “Always.”
***
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***
Charles stands in front of the massive two-story trophy wall at the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes, eyes wide with wonder. “Ferrari would never do something so ... gaudy.”
You smirk, sidling up next to him. “And yet, you love it.”
“I do,” he laughs. “It’s … different.”
You lean in, whispering conspiratorially, “Well, Ferrari hasn’t had all that much to exhibit in the last two decades. Not for lack of trying from the drivers, of course.”
He playfully nudges you with his elbow, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Cheeky.”
The two of you walk further into the factory. “So,” Charles draws out, “I was wondering if you could recommend a good real estate agent in the area.”
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Why would you need an agent when I have a perfectly good apartment we can share?”
“Really? Are you sure? I just … I wasn’t sure if you would want that and I don’t want to pressure you.”
You roll your eyes affectionately. “Of course I do, Charles. It’s not even a question.”
He smiles, the weight of the decision to move seeming a little lighter now. “Thank you.”
You wink, taking his hand. “Come on, let me show you around.”
As you guide him through the factory, he’s like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. “This place is incredible,” he murmurs, running a hand along a piece of machinery.
You grin, pulling him towards the simulator room. “Wait until you see this.”
He steps inside, eyes immediately drawn to the impressive simulator setup. “Wow.”
You gesture for him to sit down, watching as he takes a seat, adjusting the settings. “Ready for your first sim run in the RB20?”
He nods eagerly, “Let’s do it.”
As he starts the simulation, you watch closely, monitoring the data and providing feedback. The two of you work seamlessly together, the connection between race engineer and driver already forming and growing.
After several runs, Charles steps out of the simulator, a huge grin on his face. “That was incredible! The car feels amazing.”
You smile. “I’m glad you think so. The team has put a lot of work into it.”
He pulls you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. “I can’t wait to get on track with you on the other side of the radio.”
You pull back, looking into his eyes. “Me too. We’re going to do great things together. I know it.”
He nods. “I know we will too.”
***
“I have to admit,” Charles says, eyes scanning the paddock, “I’m thankful that Mercedes and McLaren are between our motorhome and Ferrari’s. Makes things less ... awkward.”
You glance towards the distant red of the mobile Ferrari building, understanding the sentiment. “Must be weird being so close and yet so far.”
He nods, a hint of melancholy in his gaze as he looks at the place he called home for so long. “It’s bittersweet.”
Pulling him from his thoughts, you nudge him playfully. “Come on, Mr. Pole-Sitter. We have a race to prep for.”
Charles smirks, playfully rolling his eyes. “Always so professional, Miss Horner.”
You grin. “Only when it counts.”
The atmosphere in the Red Bull garage is electric. Mechanics and engineers hustle around, getting everything ready. The RB20 sits gleaming, waiting for its moment to shine.
Charles adjusts his gloves, taking a deep breath. “Feels different,” he admits, looking at you. “Being here, in this car, with this team. But a good kind of different.”
You lean in, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’ve got this. It’s just another race.”
He smiles. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one in the hot seat.”
“True, but I’ll be with you every step of the way. Just listen to my voice and trust me.”
“I always do.”
As he gets into the car, you lean in closer to his helmet, your lips touching it’s hard shell. “And Charles? Stay safe out there.”
He looks at you and winks. “I’ll come back to you.”
The race begins with a burst of energy. Charles takes off from pole, holding his position as the field jockeys for placement behind him.
“Good start,” you say through the radio, your voice calm and composed. “Keep it steady.”
“Copy.”
The race is intense, with Charles and Max battling for the lead, their cars dancing on the edge of perfection. The radio chatter between the two of you flows naturally, filled with technical details, strategy adjustments, and the occasional personal quip.
“Feeling the heat from Max?” You tease after a particularly close call between the two Red Bulls.
Charles laughs breathlessly. “Just keeping things interesting for the fans.”
The race continues at a blistering pace, with Charles and Max pushing each other to the limit. But through it all, Charles remains in the lead, with you guiding him from the pit wall.
“Final lap,” you inform. “Bring it home.”
He nods, pushing the car to its limit. The cheers of the crowd grow louder as he crosses the finish line, securing his first victory with Red Bull.
“Amazing job, Charles! I knew you could do it!”
He lets out a whoop of joy. “Yes! Thank you, team. Thank you, Y/N. I couldn’t have done it without you all.”
The two of you celebrate the victory, and as the rose water sprays and the cheers of the crowd fill the air, you know that this is just the beginning of an incredible journey together.
***
“You’re sure about the medium tyres, Y/N?” Charles asks nervously as he looks at the other cars lining up. “Everyone else is starting on softs.”
You nod confidently, tapping the race strategy on your clipboard. “Yes. The upside of using the mediums is it gives us flexibility. We can extend our first stint if needed, especially with possible rain on the forecast. While everyone else has to pit early for hards and then again for inters when the rain starts, we’ll only have to pit once. Trust me.”
He inhales deeply, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside. “I do trust you. It’s just ... Ferrari ... the strategies there ...”
“I know,” you interrupt softly, understanding the trauma and distrust years with Ferrari had instilled in him. “But this isn’t Ferrari. It’s Red Bull and we work differently. I’ve got your back.”
“Alright,” he looks into your eyes, finding assurance and conviction there, “let’s do this.”
The race begins, and Charles holds his ground well on the medium tyres, though the drivers running softs initially show quicker pace. But as predicted, the clouds soon darken and the threat of rain becomes increasingly evident.
“Stay focused,” you guide through the radio. “Remember the plan.”
He pushes on, expertly handling the streets of Monaco. The cars around him begin to lose grip and one by one they dive into the pits for hard tyres.
Charles keeps lapping. He moves up the order.
“You’re doing great,” you encourage. “Stick to the plan. We’re right on schedule.”
However, as the first raindrops begin to fall, panic sets in among the other teams on the grid. Those who just pitted for hard tyres are forced to pit again for intermediate tyres, losing precious time.
“Now,” you command, “Box this lap.”
He follows your instruction, driving into the pits, and with a flawless stop by his Red Bull crew, re-emerges in the lead.
The rain continues but Charles navigates the treacherous streets of Monaco expertly, maintaining his lead. When the chequered flag waves, it’s Charles who crosses the line first and finally claims victory at his home Grand Prix.
Tears of joy and relief pour from Charles’ eyes as he takes in the moment. “Thank you,” he says over the radio, voice choked with emotion. “I can’t believe it. We did it in Monaco!”
You smile, tears in your own eyes. “We did. I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”
He laughs, the sound full of pure joy. “You did. And I’m so glad I did. Thank you for everything.”
As he steps out of the car and jumps on its nose, arms spread wide, the crowd roars in approval, their prince finally crowned in his home race.
Then he rushes to the barriers and jumps into the cheering crowd of dark blue waiting for him. When his sweaty lips find yours surrounded by the celebrating Red Bull team, you take a moment to whisper a promise, “This is just the beginning. It will only get better from here.”
***
The season flies by in a blur of champagne showers. Heading into the Italian Grand Prix, Charles find himself leading the Drivers’ Championship with Max nipping at his heels.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” Charles confesses, staring out at the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. “This was home. I don’t know how they will react now that I’m no longer wearing red.”
You rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Many fans support the driver, not just the color he wears.”
He takes a deep breath and looks over the crowd. “The Tifosi are different. They bleed Ferrari red. I’m afraid they will see me only as a traitor.”
“You gave them your all,” you counter. “They’ve seen the struggles. They know why you left. They understand. Trust in them and in yourself.”
As the two of you make your way towards the paddock, the familiar chorus of cheers fills the air. But instead of the jeers and boos he feared, a chant begins to rise among the crowd of red: “Charles! Charles! Charles!”
Charles stops in his tracks. “They’re ... they’re cheering for me.”
You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “Told you.”
He’s soon swarmed by a group of fans, all clamoring for autographs, photos, and just a moment of his time. It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi remains unbroken.
An older fan steps forward, his Ferrari cap worn with age. “You are still Il Predestinato. We wish it ended differently but we have eyes. We watched the races. We know why you left. No matter what team you drive for, you always have our hearts.”
Charles blinks back tears, deeply touched. “Grazie,” he whispers and claps the fan’s weathered hands in thanks.
Another fan, a young girl with a homemade sign that reads Once a Tifosi, Always a Tifosi, shyly approaches. “We still love you, Charles,” she says.
He kneels down to give her a gentle hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs, taking off his Red Bull cap and placing it on her head.
As the day goes on, the support from the Tifosi only grows. They cheer for him during practice, during qualifying, and every time he appears in front of the stands.
It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi is as strong as ever.
That evening, as the two of you sit in the garage looking over data, Charles reflects on his day. “I was so afraid,” he admits. “Afraid of being rejected, of losing their love. But today ... today was incredible.”
You close the analytics. “The Tifosi love you. Not because of the car you drive or the colors you wear but because of who you are. Just like I do.”
He nods slowly. “It’s overwhelming. Monza has always been special to me. To feel this level of love and support ... it’s more than I ever expected.”
You lean closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “They see your passion. They see how much you give on and off the track. Anyone who does not love and respect you for that needs to reconsider.”
He exhales slowly, “I just ... I wanted to make them proud, to win for them in red and bring glory back to Maranello. But knowing they still support me no matter what ... it means everything.”
You look up into his eyes. “And they always will. Because they know you always gave and will continue to give your best. They love you because they are loved in return.”
He laughs, pulling you into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. “For always being my rock, especially in moments like these.”
“Now let’s go out there tomorrow and win.”
***
“Vegas, baby!” Charles shouts, swinging an arm around your shoulders, both of you holding champagne glasses that have been refilled one too many times.
You giggle, distinctly feeling all of the alcohol you’ve consumed. “We won! We did it!”
Charles laughs, pulling you closer. “We did! And do you know what people do when they’re in love and win in Vegas?”
You think about it for a moment, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes. “Get ... married?”
Charles nods enthusiastically. “Exactly! Y/N Horner, will you marry me tonight?”
You don’t hesitate, “Hell yes!”
The two of you, in your drunken stupor, begin your mission to find a wedding chapel. However, before you can get very far, Max spots you and quickly catches on to what you’re planning.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Max exclaims, grabbing Charles by the shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going with Y/N?”
Charles replies with a sloppy grin, “To make her Mrs. Leclerc!”
Max bursts into laughter, trying to play the voice of reason. “Mate, as much fun as that sounds, I think you might want to sleep on that idea.”
But you’re not having it. “No, Max! We’re in love and it’s Vegas. We’re doing it!”
Before the conversation can escalate further, your father joins the fray, looking both amused and concerned. “What on earth is going on here?”
Max chuckles, “Your daughter and Charles here have some ... ambitious plans for the evening.”
You pout and stumble slightly, “Daddy, we want to get married! Right now!”
Your father’s eyebrows shoot up. “Married? Tonight? Seriously?”
Charles nods with absolute seriousness, though his precarious swaying contradicts his tone. “Christian, I love your daughter. And we won. In Vegas. So ... wedding?”
Your father places a firm hand on his driver’s shoulder. “Listen, Charles, I have no doubt about your feelings for Y/N. But my baby girl deserves the world. When and if you ever decide to propose, I expect you to get down on one knee, stone-cold sober, and ask her properly.”
Charles blinks, processing the words. “But ... Vegas?”
You laugh and go to hug your father, almost falling over in the process. “He’s right. Let’s just enjoy tonight. And if we still feel like getting married in the morning, we can discuss it then.”
Max smirks, “Trust me, you’ll thank us in the morning. If you can even remember this conversation, that is.”
***
“Charles,” you begin, your voice echoing in his helmet, “The team has made the call. You and Max are free to race. No team orders.”
There’s a pause on the other end. “Understood. May the best man win.”
The tension in the garage skyrockets as soon as the lights go out. It’s evident that this is going to be an epic battle from the very first turn. Max and Charles swap places multiple times, pushing their cars to the very edge of their limits.
“Breathe,” you remind him calmly as the laps go by, “Don’t loose sight of the race as a whole. There’s a championship at stake.”
The entire race is a blur of overtakes, pit strategies, and nail-biting moments. The two Red Bull cars battle wheel-to-wheel lap after lap. One side of the garage against the other.
Coming into the final laps, Charles is right on Max’s tail — the championship hanging in the balance between them.
You know there’s not much you can do to guide him anymore … it’s all up to Charles.
“Last lap,” you try to sound composed despite the pounding of your heart. “You can do this.”
The cheers and gasps of the crowd are deafening as Charles makes his move, taking the inside line and overtaking Max on the penultimate turn.
“Push now! Just a few more corners.”
As Charles crosses the finish line, the enormity of the moment crashes over both of you.
“Charles Leclerc,” you scream over the radio as tears stream down your face, “you are the World Champion!”
“Yeeeesssss! Yes! Yes! I ... I can’t believe it. This is ... thank you, everyone. To the entire Red Bull team, you’ve given me the chance to chase and achieve my dreams. To my friends, my family, to every single person who’s been by my side, believed in me, and supported me … thank you. And Y/N, you’ve been my rock and my oxygen. Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible. Thank you! Thank you. Thank you so much!”
***
“Whew! That was a lot of rose water!” Charles laughs, wiping the bubbly liquid from his eyes.
You chuckle and try to wring out your hair. “You didn’t have to drench me, you know!”
Charles grins cheekily. “It’s a special occasion, after all. Both of us on this podium? It’s a dream!”
Then suddenly, he turns serious and signals to his brother in the crowd below, who throws him a small leather box. Charles catches it and promptly lowers himself down on one knee in front of you, making the crowd fall into a stunned silence.
“I tried this in Vegas,” he starts with a laugh, “But I might have been too drunk and missed a few pretty important steps.”
Charles takes a deep breath and his eyes lock onto yours, saying everything that words would never be sufficient to. “Y/N, being on this podium with you, winning the World Championship, it’s the pinnacle of my career. But what we have ... it’s the pinnacle of my life. I can’t imagine going on this journey with anyone else, facing the highs, the lows, the in-betweens. Will you marry me?”
Tears flow steadily down your cheeks and you nod with a fervor that would make bobbleheads jealous, “Yes! There’s no one else I’d want to spend forever with.”
The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, the deafening roar echoing around the Yas Marina Circuit. Max gives a loud whistle, his face lit up with a big grin next to you on the podium stage.
Charles rises to his feet and pulls you close, attacking your lips as the crowd goes wild.
“Promise me we won’t head to a chapel right after this race?” You joke, sniffling and giggling at the same time.
Charles laughs, looking slightly sheepish. “I promise, mainly because I’m too young to die and your father would definitely kill me if I even thought about pulling the stunt we tried in Vegas again. You deserve a fairytale wedding.”
You press your face against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat as fireworks explode overhead. “All I need for my fairytale is you.”
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kalims · 8 months
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ㅤamongst other things
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premise. kisses w/ them, and random things?
featuring. dan heng, blade, jing yuan.
content. gender neutral.
cw. mentions of blood, murder for blade lol. he's just down bad for reader in a weird, blade way ig
note. this is ironic since my first genshin post was also about kisses (AKA me getting bored so I wondered why not get into star rail)
will add others soon ig.. I didn't compile all of them here cuz I honestly lack the characterization for them so woop
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dan heng
short, abrupt kisses that rarely ever come by goes as quickly as it came. you'd assume that he's doing it on purpose, giving you the kiss that you've been waiting for all day. it shouldn't even be considered a kiss at all from how fleeting his apparent 'peck' is.
in short it's torture.
keyword: assume. cause as convinced as you are that this is just some form of twisted amusement dan heng gains, that's exactly the problem that it entails. as a person wholly, he's so serious to the point you doubt there's nothing that would entertain him besides books.
you learn he isn't much of a fan of those really long kisses, once you both bore witness to a couple eating each other's face in broad daylight and you spotted his weekly shift of expression, a quirk of few centimeters. in this case, a grimace and he looks away.
he, does not really give kisses a lot. as upset as you are, you do agree that when he does give you a kiss, albeit short. it makes it all the more.. amazing? such a mediocre word wouldn't be able to describe it.
basically when you're both left trying to fit in his small cushion (he could've atleast gotten a bed in all this space.) you also learn that he's a really private man.
you've only ever shared kisses in his room, embraces, everything else for that matter. when the door is locked he quite literally melts into you. if you happen to be sitting together he just leans on to you.
dan heng in public: 😶
dan heng in private: 😊
just doesn't show any affection in public, especially if march is around. that girl would make fun of him for hours end and even drag the trailblazer in on her antics of poking fun.
dan heng is indeed a private man.
march isn't the only factor as to why there hasn't been a lot of kisses out in public. if anything he probably wants to kiss you more than you would like.
he'd be lying if he said he wanted to just kiss you as long as those weird main characters of the romance shows march watches cause even though you might want that as well, dan heng won't ever do it.
cause it isn't him, what he is. is the type to get kisses done as soon as he can not because he doesn't enjoy them. it's because he can take a good look at you once he leans back, just like he does any other day.
to admire you.
and cause dan heng isn't the romantic type to kiss you senseless, but the one to give you looks you'd die for.
blade
if dan heng only gives you kisses a few times a day and you'd consider it torture, better get ready to lose your sanity cause you're lucky if blade even crumples at your hand to give you one.
it's not that he doesn't love you. he feels as though it's wrong to label whatever emotion in his chest as something as strong as love, he won't go that far. but he won't label you as something worthy of hatred either, you're.. tolerable?
if anything blade doesn't outright seek to give you his affection through the form of a kiss. his love language is in fact, not physical affection but destroying your enemies :). (if you have one, if not. then whoever bothers you will suffice.)
but if he does, when he does it's the most blade thing he can do. just grabbing your face with one hand as he gives you one of those rough, deep kisses. it's not really desperate or out of need, despite such a wordless action you could feel some emotion he's pouring into it.
better pray it's not hate cause.. 💀
funny thing cause as much as he hates being piled in the same sentence as dan heng, in a way they're rather similar. both just preferring to witness, given their life span.. maybe it's some type of response they're used to.
blade doesn't really do the 'oh I love you' or the random hugs. the fact that he'd even stand so close to you instead of isolating himself and looking all mysterious leaning on a pillar already spoke volumes of his fondness (if not admitted.)
he just.. watches you?
silver wolf comments about it when she's caught his eyes on you many times midst a conversation, behind your back, staring. "better watch out." she says, but even with her disturbed gaze never does he tear his eyes away.
well.
kafka does take it in more stride than her. as someone who's spent a hefty time with blade, even someone as analytical as her can't tell which things he likes, and hates. besides all the blood and pain (well usually for his opponents.)
she for one, tells you that he does indeed like you. cause she can control who blade murders 'for her own good'. but if there's even a single glimpse of drop from a wound he's going feral, and not even kafka or her spirit whisper can tame his rage.
AKA... just lots of murder?
'for your own good :)'.
blade wholly believes that he doesn't need to shower you in affection, or kisses at all. but if you're really so insistent on them he'll give into you, which is surprising cause he's a pretty stubborn man.
most affection you'd get in physical means is when he completely collapses into you, perhaps a sign of weakness. but also trust. one of the rare times he's exhausted himself in his mind to the point where he can't even do anything.
#icanfixhim.
jing yuan
a cheeky man, this one.
jing yuan could give you a load, barriage, arrows, whatever describes the endless assault of pecks he attacks your face with. emphasis on 'could', he has the ability, and the freedom but it doesn't mean he's going to :)
in short you have to work for it, he says.
you can't tell if he's trying to give you one of those motivational, slapping you back to reality lessons or messing with you. you're going to go for the latter since someone as bold as he is lazy.. even jing yuan would relate enough to not hit you with the lesson card.
in a way he's always dragging the time you've gone by without a kiss from him as long as he can just for the sole reason he can see your attempts to conceal your bothered face, even better when the expression of content is all but displayed to him once he gives in.
what? he can't resist you, you know?
you have a feeling he's teasing you again when he says that but it's better to not ponder upon it.
for someone who prefers to 'conserve' his energy. he's got a lot to spare when it comes to the repeated kisses pressed upon your lips, cheeks, eyelids, forehead.. whatever his own mouth can reach. (his favorite is the edges of your eyes..)
just for some reason, one he can't exactly name he ends up giving that particular area more love compared to the others. sometimes more lighter, feathery pecks when he's feeling playful. or the occasional longer, deep press of his lips when he's feeling rather sentimental about his feelings.
he doesn't deserve you.. but if not him, who else? ;)
gets mimi to help him into trapping you inside his office, jing yuan 'calls for your presence' but once you're inside rather than the pressing matters he apparently had to discuss with you (present in his message.) you're met with the man practically snuggling into you as he keeps you in his arms.
rather effortlessly if you might add!
and if you somehow managed to wriggle out his grip. you swore you saw him give the... big... cat a look and suddenly mimi is choosing to sleep right in front of the doors..
come back or you will not get kisses for two days (he's scamming u)
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note. NOT PR... hi hsr fandom 🕳 posting in a new fandom makes me so nerviosity
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schrodinger-swriter · 2 months
Note
Hiiii, could you possibly write for the letters D, I, O, X, and Y for Lucifer c:
D, I, O, X, and Y for Lucifer
Greetings! Yes I can write this up for you! I hope you don't mind any possible OOCness, Lucifer is still a tough character for me to write :C
With that being said, I hope you enjoy! C:
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DATES:
Given that he is the king of Hell as well as in charge of Lu Lu World it's more than a safe bet to assume that he is wealthy. So most dates can be a little... extravagant, and perhaps a little overwhelming as a result due to Lucifer trying his best to flatter you. Though, if you're looking for something more lowkey... you might be able to convince him to out with you to his own theme park! How fun would that be? Playing shitty carnival games? Or perhaps, a night out to eat.. That is a more likely option than the carnival.
INJURY:
If you got injured he would raise hell trying to get payback on whoever, or whatever did it. Yes, whatever. I do think he would scold a coffee table if you stubbed your toe on it. Though... in that scenario he might be doing it to try to get a laugh out of you... maybe... He doesn't let you lift a finger until you're fully recovered, insisting to do everything for you. He does not act like you're dying, though...
If he's the one injured... First of all, he's Lucifer, how often is it that someone is going to try to go after him..? How likely is it that whoever injured him is going to get off free? He may attempt to walk off the injury to maintain his image of... someone. He got so used to having to be the one to take care of himself that he's grown used to it, forgetting that being cared for is an option for him.. You both will definitely have to communicate and work on things like this.
ODDITY:
Ducks. So many ducks. Why ducks? You ask him but he might give you a joke answer. He can also be a little... it's hard to find the right word, but sometimes he can bounce from being mentally stuck in his own spiraling mental health, and being the happiest you've ever seen him. Sometimes the switch can be a little jarring, but usually they don't happen for no reason. Not anything weird, of course, it just means you have to equip yourself to be able to handle him at his lowest. And his highest.
X-RAY:
It depends greatly on many factors. However, over time he does get better at reading you. It's just bridging that gap between you and connecting when you're clearly not having a good time that can sometimes be difficult. Though, that doesn't mean he's not going to try. When he sees you happy, it does rub off on him a little. He wants to see the people he loves thrives, and that does give him some motivation. He can sometimes he clouded by his own thoughts and feelings, though, and may misinterpret your body language..
YEARN:
He yearns a lot. His wife left him years ago and he hasn't dated since. Of course, until you came into his life. He didn't realize how starved he was for affection until you gave it to him. Given how he handles being estranged from Charlie, he doesn't handle being away from you... the best... He won't call you unless he has an excuse. If you can hear the worry in his tone and offer to come back early from wherever you've gone, he's going to insist that you don't. Not until you're done doing what you need to do... just hearing your voice makes his tone a little more relaxed, though!
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imastrangeone98 · 8 months
Text
Enough
(A/N: yes to blade, yes to everything about him 🩵)
WARNING: extremely ooc!blade cuz stoic men are hard to write, fem!reader, smut smut, minors get the hell out of here or I'll smack u to Heaven and back; more plot than there should be tbh; also y/n lowkey being the stellaron hunters' favorite member XD
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Being alone with Blade in the hideout is not how you wanted to spend your day, yet here you are.
Agonizing over the lack of Kafka and Silver Wolf (your two greatest- and only- friends in the Stellaron Hunters) helps distract you as you sweep the floor of the Hunters' newly occupied hideout.
It also helps keep your mind off your unexpected companion... the man you've been trying to avoid for the past few weeks.
It's not that you didn't like him- quite the opposite, in fact. Your feelings for the broody swordsman were... complicated. Of course he was visibly attractive, as well as emotionally volatile; you'd be blind to not notice it.
But you grew to enjoy seeing his reactions to the smallest of things- from his disgust at the tomatoes in his sandwich, to the smallest curl of his lip at the sight of a whetstone for his sword, to the faintest glimpse of peace in his eyes when he watches the sunset.
You grew to love him. How could you not fall for the sensitive soul who secretly fed the stray kittens near the base, who joined Silver Wolf on the couch to watch her play games, who quietly thanked you every time you patched up the wounds his healing factor could not, even though it was your job?
Your heart blooms when you're near him. But you know better than to think he feels the same way.
Kafka had told you of his reasons for joining the Hunters: a thirst for revenge against all who wronged him, and the undying desire for eternal sleep. His path of vengeance meant no room for any unnecessary things, you included.
You will never be a part of Blade's world.
So you keep your feelings under lock and key, choosing to ignore the fluttering of your heart whenever he helps you with the dishes, when he silently joins you on your trips to the market for groceries, even when he hands you a small souvenir from whatever planet his mission was in.
"Bladie certainly likes to give you special treatment," Kafka had teased you once as she helped blow dry your hair. "Any more of his flirting, and I might just have to fight him for attention~"
"Oh please, be serious, Kaf." You rolled your eyes at the thought. "Blade would never be interested in romance, especially with a dime-a-dozen medic like me. Besides, have you seen the way he looks at that bracer?"
"Well, if he doesn't want you, I don't mind picking up the slack~"
You smacked her for that. But even though she hadn't used her Spirit Whisper on you that day, her words stayed in your mind long after the conversation was over.
Her voice echoed in the back of your mind after that night, when you had encountered him broken and lost in the middle of the night, aching from pains you could not understand. You had taken him in your arms, unable to watch him suffer, and sung him to slumber, watching as his eyes slowly drifted closed as he relaxed in your hold.
Putting him to bed was no easy task, but it was when you were about to pull away that your problem truly began.
"Stay," Blade whispered, soft and drowsy- a sound you didn't think him capable of. It left you speechless, even as he pawed at you to pull you closer to him. "Stay here tonight."
The warning to stay away should have rung in your mind. But when he gazed at you with wide, almost desperate eyes, you could not say no. And so you stayed that night, his head resting on your chest, falling asleep to the sound of your racing heartbeat.
You shouldn't have. Because now you're stuck in this situation, trapped in a corner, with the man haunting your thoughts hovering above you, a dangerous gleam in his eye that sends a shiver down your spine.
"C- can I help you?" you squeak out, a bead of sweat on your forehead. "I'll get started on dinner pretty soon-"
"You are very difficult to get a hold of." Blade cuts you off, leaning closer to you, nose brushing against yours. "Now you have nowhere to go... and no one to hide you."
You gulp. Aeons, you wish Kafka and Silver Wolf were here right now.
"You've been avoiding me. Why?"
Your cheeks feel hot at his question. Is he really that daft? (No, he isn't. He just likes seeing you flustered; but you don't have to know that just yet.)
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you splutter. He stares at you, exasperated. "I'm treating you just as I always do!"
"...You're terrible at lying." He sighs and finally leans away from you; you hadn't realized you were holding your breath. But you're still not off the hook, because he slides a finger under your chin and tilts your head to maintain your gaze on him. "Since you're not willing to be honest, I will. You disappearing in the morning wasn't particularly... enjoyable for me. And here I thought we were getting close."
Blade lightly scratches your chin, and aeons, if your face wasn't hot before, it's burning now.
"If you didn't like me, you could have just said so. I thought-" He stops himself, but his wide eyes speak the words he cannot vocalize.
Your heart threatens to burst. You have tell yourself it's not real. There's no way this is real. Blade does not like you. Blade is not capable of love. He desires only revenge against the many who wronged him, against the one who holds the other half of his bracer, the key to his heart.
Blade does not love you. He loves only what you briefly gave him because he lacked so much of it in his mysterious past that he instinctively reached out to the first person who gave him scraps of what he deserved.
And that knowledge breaks your heart.
"...You don't know what you're saying," you say stiffly, your grip on the broom tightening. "You must be confused. When Kafka returns, I'll ask her to use her Spirit-"
"Stop," he growls, pressing against you once more. He's so heavy he nearly squeezes the air from your lungs. "I don't know what you're thinking, but that's enough."
Aeons, you're insufferable. Yet he can't stay mad at you, not when your expressions are so cute. He gently cradles your face, fingers lightly tracing your cheeks, the corners of your eyes, your soft lips.
He wants to kiss you. He wants to know if you taste as sweet as you look. If your voice is just as sweet singing his name as you sing your songs that soothe his soul, his mara, better than any of your healing balms or even Kafka's Spirit Whisper.
"Why won't you let me in, you stubborn woman?" Blade whispers, eyeing your confusion, your hurt that he doesn't understand. "What pains you so, that you won't even look at me?"
You grit your teeth. How can you tell him that what pains you is the very thing that brings his immortal life meaning? That you're just trying to make his life easier by not interfering with his plans with your own, temporary issues?
But nothing comes out except a half-hearted, "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."
"Bullshit," he hisses. "Everything you do concerns me. Your existence concerns me."
Your hands squeeze into fists. "And why's that? Am I that much of an inconvenience to you?!"
His lips curl into a pained smile. "Like you wouldn't imagine. You make me think of things that I don't need..." He glances down at his feet for a brief, long second, then looks back at you. His eyes are aglow with something you can't describe. "That I don't deserve to think of."
For as much as you want to harden your heart, Blade's words make your attempts meaningless. It's so full of fear and longing that you want to reach out and touch him, hold him close to your heart and never let him go.
You swallow, somehow feeling more nervous than before at what you're about to ask. But you want to know. You need to know, for your poor heart. "...And what is it that you think you don't deserve?"
His gaze softens. Blade leans down once more, and you feel his breath on your lips. He smells nice, you think hazily. Suddenly, you feel overwhelmed, too hyper aware of everything- his scent, the gentle brush of his fingers on your chin, the flecks of gold in his eyes.
"You," he whispers, and softly presses his lips to yours.
He's warm against you. His arms are strong as they wrap around you, pulling you into his firm chest. Before you're fully swept into the storm that is Blade, a funny thought flits through your mind: for a man with such a sharp name, he feels so warm in your arms.
He groans against your mouth, hands moving to your cheeks, coaxing your lips open to slide his tongue inside, feeling every part of you. You're so soft, so sweet, so perfect- he swears that you must have been crafted by the aeons themselves to fit his taste, to his hold. He has to fight against every cell in his body to not rip your clothes off and take you against the filthy walls. As badly as he wants to taste you properly, he needs to move this elsewhere. You deserve better than the cold corner he trapped you in. (And if Kafka shows up early, he doesn't want her to witness the filthy things he wants to do to you. But the marks he'll leave... That's fair game.)
When he finally pulls away, you're left breathless, chest heaving, and your lips tingle with the heat of his own. Blade nuzzles against your neck, and leaves kisses down your throat.
"Come on," he whispers against your skin, and tugs at your sleeve. "Stay with me tonight."
It feels too good to be true. You should be more suspicious. Blade does not love. Blade does not care for love. He does not love you.
He doesn't...
But he smiles at you- a soft, innocent smile that tugs at the corners of his eyes- and you fall into him, helpless.
When he offers you his hand, you don't hesitate to take it.
Maybe you're too hypnotized by him, but time melts into one hazy fog of memories. He's gentle- leading you to his room, lying you down on his bed, peeling off your clothes, piece by piece, until you're left bare and wanting. He stares at you hungrily, but he makes no move to devour you just yet.
He's slow, too. Watching him remove his garments- untying his belts and vest, sliding off his glove, unwrapping his bandages- it was torture. You huff, displeased, and reach out to him to lend a hand, but he lightly smacks it away, a playful smirk on his face.
"Patience," he teases, "and I'll give you what you want... and more."
To drive his words home, he moves even slower. By the time he's kicked off his shoes and pants, you've given up on being patient and paw at his boxers, much to his amusement. His cock finally springs free, and you gulp- it's big. Thick at the base, you wonder how it'll fit you. But you can't resist the temptation to lean forward and lick the tip. He groans above you, hands resting on the back of your head to push you further against his groin.
You're so cute. He watches you, hearts in his eyes, slurping away at his cock, clumsy hands rubbing at the parts you can't fit. You reek of inexperience, but it's okay. He has more than enough time to teach you, and he'll enjoy every second of it.
But for now, he lets himself relax and enjoy the warmth of your throat. The urge to cum rises its head, but he pushes it back. Not yet. Not until he feels you properly. (But he can't deny the mental image of his seed dripping from your mouth is incredibly arousing.)
It's when you begin to choke on his length that Blade pulls himself out of his pleasure-induced stupor, and he pulls you off of him to lay down on his bed. He follows you, resting on one arm above your head while his other hand trails down your neck, to your breasts (sparing a few seconds to fondle and squeeze each one), down your belly to your thighs, lightly tapping your wet mound.
"I'm gonna stretch you out now," he says, making sure you're paying attention to him. "Or it'll hurt when I go in."
It hits you: he's done this before. The bracer flashes in your mind. For a brief moment, you think to pull away and return to your room alone, to lick at the wounds to your sensitive pride.
But you hear him call to you, soft kisses being pressed onto your cheeks, and you are pulled away from the storm into his solid embrace.
"You're thinking again," he sighs, and he moves to kiss the corner of your mouth. "Whatever it is, think of it tomorrow. Just let me in; look at me."
Blade rubs his cheek against yours, giving you a reassuring look, then you feel his fingers, long and calloused, brush against your sensitive hole. You gasp at the unfamiliar feeling and squirm, but he keeps you firm, kissing you deeply to distract you from the way they slowly press inside you.
Your walls are tight. Blade wants so badly to pull his fingers out and devour you from the source, slurp up every last drop of your essence. But he grasps hold on the last few strings of his unraveling patience, not giving in to his desires just yet. He needs to do this, lest you cry in pain when he finally pushes inside you. So he finds solace in your softness, in the rhythmic squeezing of your silky cunt, carefully stretching you out.
A tear slips out of your eyes at the painful pleasure, and he kisses it away. "There we go. You're ready," he murmurs, pulling his fingers out, your whines at the emptiness music to his ears. He brings them to his mouth, sucking off your juices and moaning at the taste.
"Don't... don't do that," you whimper beneath him. You stare at him so innocently, he wants to ruin you. "It's yucky..."
"It's you," he corrects you, and he adjusts himself so he's between your legs. He smooths his hands down your thighs and positions his cock right at your entrance. When the tip catches onto your hole, you both sigh in pleasure. "Nothing about you is 'yucky.'"
With that, he finally- finally thrusts inside you. You yelp at the intrusion- he stretched you out, but aeons, it's still painful... and he's still not fully inside you. Whimpering, you claw at his scarred shoulders, nails raking down his back. He groans at the sting, leaning down to kiss you, unable to escape your addicting lips.
He can't move. He's trapped by the tightness of your pussy, your wet warmth distracting him from the main course. But your cries of his name pull him out of that haze, reminding him of what he needs to do.
"You're okay," he manages to heave out, cupping your cheek before pressing his chest to yours, mouth smushed against your ear. "I'm here. I'm gonna move."
You whine a weak "Blade..." but he shushes you.
"Ren."
"...What?" you ask hesitantly.
"My name. My real name. Ren."
"...Ren."
Oh, aeons. Your voice is so beautiful saying his long-forgotten name, he nearly came inside you. But he works up the strength to push his cock deeper, until his hips meet yours with a wet slap.
You wail, chanting his name- his true name- as he builds up a semi-steady rhythm. And he makes love to you, for aeons knows how long, hypnotized by your sounds, your smell, your touches on his body as you scratch at him and bite his neck, as if leaving your mark on him. (He wishes he didn't have his healing factor. He wants your scratches to last. He wants to look at them in the morning.)
You manage to cradle his face in your palm and turn him towards you. You take the time to admire him- his gorgeous red eyes, his bare chest gleaming with sweat, his long hair forming a curtain around you, narrowing your sight to him, and only him. So it's just Blade.
No... Ren.
Your heart clenches at his amorous gaze, as if showing his devotion to you, and only you. You do not know if he loves you... if he is capable of loving you. You do not know if he will come to regret this come morning. But you will embrace him, and smile at him, like you do now.
Because you love him. You cannot deny it anymore. You love Ren.
"Ren..." you call out once more.
And he answers you. "Yes." His voice is breathy, and his touch gentle, for he cups your cheek in his hand and rubs soft circles into your sensitive skin.
He may not love you, but you love him. And that is all you need. And you let your love consume you.
"Ren."
"Yes."
You say his name so much you lose count. And he responds every time, sometimes with words, sometimes with his lips. Until he grabs your thighs and folds you nearly in half, hips now slamming into yours as he buries his length inside you even deeper than you thought possible. Your eyes cross and you howl at how impossibly deep he feels, pressing buttons you never knew existed.
Blade moans, drunk on his pleasure, on your sweet, sweet pussy. He feels that unfamiliar tightness in his loins, his balls aching for release. But he needs you there with him, standing at the edge of that cliff right by his side.
"'M close," he whispers hoarsely. His hand flies to your hidden pearl, rubbing at your clit through your folds. You whine pitifully, but this time, he pays no heed. "I need you, come on, I need you-!"
The burning warmth in your gut spreads faster at his rough administrations. You squeal at how sensitive you feel, but you can't outrun it. The heat reaches to your limbs, your eyesight is hazy, and all you see, feel, smell, know is Ren.
Ren, who grasps hold of your hand, urging you to jump off with him. And aeons, he looks so beautiful doing it.
You can't help the words that slip past your mouth: "I love you."
And you jump. You plummet into the canyon, hands intertwined, and you're swept under the waves of indescribable ecstasy that makes you see galaxies. You feel warm, much like the ropes of warm seed that fill you.
Your mind is foggy, but Blade's sighs of pleasure are clear and bright. You feel him thrust inside you, once, twice, four times, before collapsing on top of you. He nuzzles into your neck, taking in lungfuls of your scent, committing it to his memory so he can never part from it.
With shaking arms, you manage to run your hands through his hair, massaging his scalp and untangling the soft strands, trying to shake your sudden nerves as you realize what you just said in the throes of your first orgasm.
I love you.
But if he noticed, then he hasn't spoken up about it. Instead, he shudders at your touch, pushing his head further into your hands, a silent urge to continue. So you do, until your eyes can no longer stay open, and your hands fall limp in his hair.
He pushes himself up and gathers you in his arms, pressing you to his chest, close to his pounding heart. And he takes the time to admire your drowsy form, so vulnerable and soft, so trusting.
"You terrify me," is all he can whisper before he joins you into slumber.
Because you make him not want to seek death. But he knows he must search for it, now more fervently than before. So that when your time inevitably comes...
...He will be able to follow you.
[...]
"It seems like you and Bladie have been rather close these days~ Have you two finally fucked and made up?"
You blush at Kafka's stupidly accurate teasing. "Don't say it like that! We just... had a talk, that's all."
Your friend eyes the hickies on your neck with amusement. "Sure... a talk with teeth~"
"Kafka-"
"When's dinner? Are you gonna make pasta?" Silver Wolf pops up out of nowhere, eyes fixed on her game.
"Do you want pasta?" you ask her with a laugh. She can be so childish sometimes, but you love her nonetheless.
"Yeah. I like your pasta." The gamer moves to sit next to you, but her chosen spot is suddenly occupied as Blade slides in beside you. He gives you a knowing look, before sending a cocky smirk at Silver Wolf, who pouts and complains to Kafka.
You cackle at the sight before you, and slowly rest your head on his shoulder. Blade says nothing, but the way he shifts his body for your comfort and wraps an arm around you tells you everything. You close your eyes in bliss, ignoring the chatter between your two friends as Silver Wolf decides to make a spot on your lap.
Blade is warm beside you. That is enough.
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A/N: this b*tch took all my wishes but it's ok I love him. I'll hopefully be able to save enough for Dan heng's dragon form *wink wonk* also I'm reassuring myself that no matter how bad this is, hbo's the idol is far far worse 😃
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This Will Be The Day That I Die
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Part 2 |
Pairings: Wednesday X Reader (Any gender)
Warnings: Suicide attempt, Mental health issues, depression, Wednesday being a psycho, crying, reader having bad parents.
Words: 900+
It was time for the results. You already knew you would fail again, but you couldn't this time, your parents think you are a disgrace. You wanted to slap the good results into their face but only if you got them. You had failed, again and again. Principal Weems was concerned. Maybe putting across this to your parents might help, but she doesn't know how they behave. Only if she knew.
You were waiting for your parents by the door to the Principal's office. Trying to control the tears, you looked above, to see them coming. It had felt like your death was near.
"What did you do this time?" Your father grabbed you by the chin and moved it to look straight into his eyes. "Do have anything else to do rather than just shaming us in front of the whole school?" He tried to clench his nails against your chin and neck but released it forcefully and scoffed. He opened the door to peacefully greet Weems, if anything your family was good at was being fake. "Good Morning Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. Please grab a seat" Weems smiled and looked at you, her smile disappeared when she saw you, not because of your horrible results but because of how you looked. You had dark circles underneath your eyes. You just happened to look very weak for an outcast who is a vampire.
As you stood beside your mother, Weems had given your father a report of your results. "I'm concerned about Y/N, their results have been dropping since last semester. Is everything okay with her?" Weems with care in her eyes looked at you, but you were trying to hide your face by looking down to the floor. Oh good it will be, the cold harsh floor mixed with hot red blood. The fact that it sounds like an irony, but it's not.
Your father had laughed it off, he had already hated the fact that your mental health was awful, and now people suspecting it will make him just angrier. He didn't want it getting out. "There is nothing wrong with them, okay? They just don't study."
"I might agree but I have seen Y/N trying hard enough, I was just concerned that it might be some environmental factors or even the condition of her in your house." Weems had put across a valid point but your father was a rigid piece.
"YOU THINK Y/N IS NOT BEING TREATED GOOD??!" He shouted your mother trying to stop him, it all depends on their reputation after all.
"I didn't mea-"
"YOU CERTAINLY DID, WE'RE DONE HERE" He got up and your mother grabbed your wrist and followed your father out of her room.
She released it forcefully and turned to look at you, "You can't do anything right, can you?"
"I wish you would have died the day you were born" Your father clenched his fist. "whatever, lets just leave, she's a shame on our family."
"I'm sorry please" you cried as they left. Your body had felt so heavy, that you fell on your knees and whined. Your chest was stinging. You saw them leave, again.
You wish they stayed, but they never did. You wish they could have understood you, they never did.
You felt a cold hand on your shoulder, you wiped your tears and looked above. Finding Addams.
"What?" your hoarse voice had said in very not polite way.
"Comforting people is not really my forte but, I suppose being a killer is better than being a cry baby" For first time, her voice didn't sound so rude as it did before.
"What do you mean?" You stood and looked straight into her eyes with a confused expression.
"I think you should not let them have the peace of you struggling. I can help you with that if you want." She smirked.
"God, Wednesday are you kidding me?" You rolled your eyes and left for your dorm.
______________________________________________________________
How good it will be, to see the hot blood spilled on the cold concrete floor. It was over for you. You handled it for so long now you have to burst out. Silently.
It's said that truth hits you hard but reality waits for you until you're ready to accept it. Then it hits like an irony of emotions. Peace yet a piece of confusion in your heart that wants to rest. Supplying blood for a long time isn't really easy, you know.
As you enjoyed 'American Pie' for one last time, reciting the lyrics "This will be the day that I die." A smile appeared on your face. Just imagine how your rested body will feel, free of the world.
As the song was in its last verse, you picked up a blade near your wrist, ready. You relived the memories you made, with Enid, Yoko, and Bianca. Sometimes even Weems, then the new goth girl. Wednesday.
You think about Wednesday, remembering what she said to you. She might have been right. Dying is boring, but taking revenge on the people is adventurous. You throw away the blade and run away. Never to be found again.
She should be right.
They were singin', Bye bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singing, "this will be the day that I die"
______________________________________________________________
Part 2?
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dystopicjumpsuit · 1 month
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The Night Before Someday
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A/N: Happy (slightly belated) birthday to my dearest @wings-and-beskar! I wrote you some smut. 💛
Pairing: Cody x Reader (GN)
Rating: M - Minors DNI
Wordcount: 1.6K
Warnings and tags: fluff; roofies mentioned in passing; somebody other than Cody tries to hit on you; SMUT; oral sex; teasing; minor dom/sub dynamics; orgasm delay; established secret/forbidden relationship.
Summary: Did you read “Someday” and feel a burning desire to know what happened the night before? Look no further! This is that fic.
Suggested listening:
Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list
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79’s was hot, loud, and crowded. The heavy beat of dance music pulsated through the dense, smoky air of the club. The 212th was on shore leave, and you could swear that all 42,000 troopers in the battalion were currently either in line for the bar or grinding on the dance floor. You weren’t the only nat-born officer in the place, but you still stood out in the sea of clones, and every so often a drunken trooper would hoot your name or cheer raucously as you passed.
The energy was frenetic. To tell the truth, dance clubs weren’t really your usual scene, but it was the first night of leave, and it was expected that the senior command staff would put in an appearance. It wasn’t so bad, though; the troopers were rowdy but unfailingly respectful, and as you headed back to your table after braving the line at the bar for a refill, one of your very favorite trios found you and pulled you inexorably into their orbit. 
“Didn’t think we’d see you here tonight, Major,” Wooley said as he slung his arm over your shoulders with an easy (if somewhat wobbly) smile.
“Why not?” you asked.
“Figured you’d have somethin’ better to do than hang out with the same faces you see all day every day,” Waxer grinned.
“What could possibly be better than this?” you asked, gesturing at the sticky, sweaty crowd.
“Probably just about any nat-born cantina,” Boil replied.
“Oh, we have more than our share of shitty dives,” you replied. “Plus my chances of having my drink roofied are probably lower here than just about any bar in the galaxy.”
“‘Specially with us watching your back,” Wooley said. He was slurring his words a bit, and his arm was ridiculously heavy on your shoulders, but you had a feeling his night was just getting started.
“Surprised you aren’t at the table with the rest of the command staff,” Boil remarked.
“I was on my way back when you waylaid me,” you laughed.
“Eh, we’re more fun anyway,” Waxer said with a charming smile.
Privately, you couldn’t help but agree, not that you would ever, ever say it out loud. Waxer, Boil, and Wooley didn’t have to worry about presenting a dignified facade the way the senior officers—including you—did. 
You drew a breath to reply, and suddenly, a Mirialan tripped and stumbled into you. She righted herself quickly, apologizing profusely in an Outer-Rim trade language. You replied fluently in the same language, reassuring her and asking if she was all right. She nodded and excused herself quickly, and as she left, you checked to make sure she hadn’t swiped your credits.
“Kriff, it’s hot when you do that,” Wooley said, leaning a little closer to your ear.
“What, check to make sure someone didn’t rip me off?” you laughed.
“No, when you speak Sy Bisti or whatever that was,” he replied.
“Meese Caulf,” you said.
“I don’t know how the commander keeps his hands off you when you’re translating for him,” Wooley said a little over-loudly.
Yeah, he’s definitely had enough to drink, you thought.
If you were honest, you liked Wooley just fine. He was sweet and funny, he had great hair, and he looked like… well… a clone trooper. Enough said. You might have considered reciprocating his interest if it weren’t for two very important factors. One: you outranked him by several degrees, and you’d have felt weird about it even if it weren’t officially forbidden for you to fraternize with him. Ironic, all things considered. 
Two—
“Because I don’t fancy a court martial, and I suspect the major doesn’t either, so I’d suggest you keep your hands to yourself,” a voice said from just behind you.
His tone was mild, but all four of you snapped to attention instinctively, and Wooley dropped his arm and put several inches in between himself and you for good measure.
“Yes, sir! Sorry, sir,” Wooley said sheepishly.
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” Commander Cody replied. 
“Er, sorry, Major,” Wooley mumbled.
You kept a perfectly straight face as you reassured Wooley, then extricated yourself from the group and made your way back to the command staff’s table with Cody. 
Once you were out of earshot, you asked, “Court martial? Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?”
Cody arched a quizzical brow. “Just looking out for my officers.”
“Careful, Commander. People might start thinking you have an interest beyond strict professionalism.”
Under the guise of steering you around a group of rowdy, drunken troopers, Cody rested his hand on your lower back, and you felt his fingertips graze your bare skin, just beneath the hem of your shirt.
“We can’t have that,” he murmured. He leaned in slightly to whisper in your ear. “I wish I could dance with you.”
You suppressed a smile. “How much longer do we need to keep up this charade before we sneak back to my flat?”
“One more drink ought to do it,” he said. 
You glanced down at your cocktail. “Mine’s already half gone. I’ll leave first so nobody suspects.”
“You know, Wooley was right about one thing. You are hot as kriff.” He pressed his fingers into your back gently, then withdrew his hand as you approached the table where the rest of the senior command waited. “Door code still the same?”
“Always.”
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You were in the kitchen chugging the galaxy’s largest glass of water when you heard the front door swish open. By the time it closed again, you were already in Cody's arms. As your lips met, he picked you up and spun you around until you shrieked with laughter. When he set you down, he held you steady until you regained your footing, then slid his hand up your back to hold your head as he leaned his forehead against yours and took a deep, slow breath in and out.
“Hello,” you smiled.
“Hello,” he replied. “I missed you.”
“It's only been an hour,” you pointed out.
“An eternity.” He kissed along your jaw until he reached your ear, whispering, “A lifetime.”
You shivered as his breath tingled across your skin. “Welcome home.”
A quiet rumble of pleasure sounded in his chest at your words. “Let's go to bed.”
“Tired?” you teased.
He slid his hands down your body to grip your ass, pulling you hard against him. “Not even a little bit.”
That’s a kriffing lie, you thought, knowing exactly how busy and exhausted he was, but you weren’t about to call him on it when his lips tasted so perfect, and his body felt so strong and solid and warm, and his hands roamed over you, touching and teasing and exploring. You didn’t even notice that he was expertly guiding you backward through your flat until he leaned you slowly back onto your mattress.
“Excellent diversionary tactics, Commander,” you said as he kissed down your throat and sternum, deftly unbuttoning your top as he progressed.
“Mm,” he murmured, unzipping your trousers and sliding them down your hips. “That’s Marshal Commander.”
Your laugh turned into a gasp as he tugged your underwear out of the way and his tongue caressed your skin. 
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he whispered, gazing up your body as he stroked his fingers over you softly. He trailed kisses down your pelvis and swirled his tongue over your sex. “I could never taste you enough.”
Oh, gods, but he tried. He devoured you with all the skill and passion of a man deprived too long. He took his time, luxuriating in your smooth skin, your warmth, your scent, your taste, your quiet moans, your desperate whimpers, your frantic squirming beneath his lovely mouth. 
Ever the strategist, he used every tool at his disposal in his relentless pursuit of your pleasure: fingers, tongue, lips—even his teeth: grazing them gently across your tender flesh, then smoothing his tongue over you in soft, comforting strokes. He drew you closer and closer to your climax, refusing to hurry, even when your whimpers and moans gave way to pleading and sobbing as heat pulsed relentlessly through your veins, so close: so close, and yet just out of reach. 
And then—he stopped.
You nearly screamed in frustration. “Damn it, Cody!”
“Manners,” he chided.
You growled. “I am going to get revenge for this.”
“I have no doubt,” he replied, kissing you softly and then brushing his thumb over his swollen lips. “Now ask nicely.”
You gritted your teeth and took a deep breath. “Please, sir, will you let me come?”
He gave you a devilish smile and lowered his head back down to your body, devouring you with renewed enthusiasm, and within seconds, he brought you to the precipice.
“Please, please, please,” you chanted.
He groaned, a deep, gravelly sound that vibrated on your skin, and with a dexterous movement of his fingers, he pushed you over the edge. You let out a hoarse cry, for once not concerned about keeping your volume down, as your hips thrust up off the mattress. He pressed you back down as he kept going, eagerly taking everything you had to give, until you were twitching and writhing helplessly beneath him.
At last, when he’d wrung every last drop of pleasure from your body, you fell back, breathing hard as you slowly relaxed against the pillows. He looked up at you with a self-satisfied grin, and you narrowed your eyes vindictively. Wrapping your legs around him, you flipped both of you over so he was lying on his back beneath you, gazing up at you with blatant adoration.
“My turn,” you murmured.
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Didn't read "Someday"? It's here, and it's fluffy as hell!
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prideofcelestia · 1 year
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❝when he yelled at you but then you started crying❞
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« characters - satan, barbatos »
« gender neutral reader »
« headcanons »
levi, belphie, beel
luci asmo
simeon, mephisto
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SATAN
Satan had days like that when despite his best efforts, he felt troubled. If he had been a little more lenient with himself, he might have believed that everyone had off days, days when their mood was not their friend. But knowing the factors surrounding his birth and owing to his anxiety to maintain his dignity, he didn't let himself enjoy that privilege and kept his emotions in check - well whatever little emotion he let himself feel.
After shutting himself in his room, he took a deep breath and cursed Lucifer for not allowing pets. A soft paw in his hands would have done wonders for him! Then he thought about his happiest memories - him surrounded by cats, finding an extremely rare book after searching for weeks, and suddenly he thought of the words of praise he had received from Lucifer one day in the past. He shook his head and tried to focus again only to find his mind wandering to you, the way you tried to stay by his side whenever he needed you. The sudden knock on his door broke his reverie. Despite feeling a little better, the disturbance caused his rage to sour his mood.
He was in his demon form again unconsciously as he approached the door. He flung it open so roughly that the hinges came undone in his hand and you dangled from the doorknob, legs suspended in midair. The surprise made you let go so that you stumbled back unsteadily, trembling with fear. The way his eyes danced with wrath didn't help. After letting a helpless yelp, you crawled back like a vulnerable kitten. His heart shattered so he took a step back in defence. Before he could apologise, you had vanished like a beautiful memory that appearrd only once in a lifetime.
He gave you exactly ten minutes to calm down because his need to make matters right outweighted his urge to let you collect yourself in solitary.
You opened the door only a little. Your eyes gave you away.
"Do-Don't worry," he choked. "I won't destroy your door. I am sorry you had to witness that. But... I didn't mean to scare you. Not you. That is the last thing I will want to do. I understand if it will take you some time to trust me again. Just don't let me scare you..."
The way he spoke broke your heart. This demon who believed that he couldn't feel a thing had a multitude of emotions in his voice when talking to you.
BARBATOS
If someone had asked you about the impossible, you would have quickly answered with Barbatos losing his temper at you. But even the plants that we water most lovingly sometimes wither, not because of lack of love but because of situations beyond our control. It was quite a shock when he looked at you furiously and yelled at you. A buzzing head prevented him from grasping just how cruel he sounded. How he had disgraced himself! The tears that threatened to fall from the corner of your eyes were the only indication that his behavior was harsh. He quickly pursed his lips and looked at you ashamedly. It was very seldom in his long life that he had moments to apologise for, and now that he felt that he had ruined the bond he had with you, he was beyond repentant and at his wit's end. He lost his composure and looked upset.
Before he could find his voice again, you had left him in a cold despair from which he couldn't recover. His legs felt chained to the spot but he knew very well that he was only excusing himself from taking responsibility. Slowly and uncertainly, he took a step towards the room whose door he had just heard shutting. After a few knocked, he places his gloved hand on the door and whispered.
"I must beg your pardon for my rudeness. It was not my intention to hurt you. Can you please forgive me? I ask this of you not as the royal butler but as a demon, as your friend, and as more than that."
And when you finally agreed to meet his eyes, he could hardly glance at you. His hands trembled in a way that made him feel more shameful than ever. The efficient butler looked uncertain, looked the part of the heartbroken lover and hell knew that described him well.
"Allow me to convey my genuine apology. I promise there won't be a repeat of this unfortunate incident." he somehow said, his mind drawing a blank for the first time in centuries.
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eldstunga · 6 months
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Hi! I really love your art! The lines are so bold but the colours so natural that it feels distinct but grounded?? I'm obsessed with the shapes in your work
I was wondering if you had any advice for drawing bodies? Whenever I try it either my proportions are off or an arm ends up looking like a calf or something.
First of all, thank you <3 That's so nice and I think "lines bold, colours natural" is some truly aspirational words to say about my art, I'll strive to be what you say I am <3 I do not, unfortunately, have any great tips on drawing bodies - it's a very wide topic and fundamentally just really bloody hard. I fail horribly 9 times out of 10. How to approach it I think varies a lot with like...HOW you are struggling, and who you are as a person. For proportions and anatomy there are definitely books to look at, and some rules of thumb that can help you - anything from "the shoulders are about 2.5-3 heads wide" through "feet are the same length as the forearm", "elbows are in line with the navel and the navel is two sternums down" etc etc. For me, realising just how big the ribcage actually is and learning how to use that as a unit of measure was a big event (the torso is about two ribcages long). Look at references, Draw over low opacity references and try to look for patterns that help YOU. Like... "Hm, do the shoulders line up with something useful?"
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Having a good ref model to double check things helps too. The pen is pointing to about the bottom of the ribcage. But there's also stuff like maybe you're getting too hung up on construction and then it might help more to try to draw from references by ONLY blocking in a silhouette first. This helps me sometimes still:
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Or you could be like me, struggle with all of the above and then some - like how to make poses look natural and/or dynamic? Weight distribution is a whole other topic.. gah, it never ends, but it's fun to learn.
Lastly, this took me way too long to realise and I think it should be said: Do not fret too much about STUDYING. The unfair thing is that the better you are at something, the better you will be at actually learning from doing studies and exercises or reading books. We accept this with many other disciplines and sports but rarely art. Mileage is king, and mileage is best gained from having fun and enjoying what you do. If you find studies suffering and frustrating you're probably better off just drawing what you enjoy and fuck it if it isn't "pushing your boundaries" or whatever. Eventually you'll get to the point where studies start to give more than they take, and then you're home free. I'm not gonna recommend a billion resources you likely won't enjoy but here are some things I genuinely found helpful lately: * a physical anatomy model, they're pricy and not necessary but being able to just look at it every now and then, turn it over etc helps. * The "Morpho" series of books, they do not teach anatomy, but they are very useful quick reference books and much more easily digested than most anatomy material. Just try to find a real anatomy book to read once your appetite is up as well.
The zig-zag/Lightning bolt method for arms and legs, fuckin' thing revolutionised how I sketch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCkmB030GpQ
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Gottfried Bammes "The Complete guide to Anatomy for Artists and Illustrators" This thing is insane, it's from the 50's and like 600 pages long. You could absolutely kill someone with it, but a lot of the pages are more philosophical or art history you can skip and despite its age and fear factor this dude writes in a witty, clever and just wonderful way that I've seen nowhere else. Fantastic photos. By far, FAR the best anatomy book I've ever seen. It's not a book I'd recommend for someone starting out, I would not have been able to digest it like four years ago, but once you get to a certain point it's amazing.
That's a lot, uhhh, feel free to ask me for more specific tips this was a bit of a rant. Hope some of it was useful!
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blackdragoness · 4 months
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PICK-A-CARD READING
IF YOU WERE A DRUG, WHAT DRUG WOULD YOU BE?
WHY DO PEOPLE BECOME “ADDICTED” TO YOUR ENERGY?
Do you give off ALCOHOLIC vibes, CRACKHEAD energy, OR STONER vibes?
**THIS IS PURELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT** I am not calling any of you addicts. Its just a game to have fun so just enjoy it for what it is: ENTERTAINMENT. I am not a professional and the advice given is based off my own personal experience with these addictions. I share what helped me free myself from these vices but I strongly recommend speaking with a professional that can help you better. Without further ado....
LESSSKOOOO
PICK A CARD:
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PILE 1: ACE OF HEARTS
If you chose pile 1, the vice that best describes your personality is:
***STONER***
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**** DISCLAIMER: I am not insinuating that you smoke alot of pot, even if that's true haha. I am not your doctor, pastor, therapist, parent, sibling, boss, the police, your parole officer, NONE OF THAT. So I dont care what you do on your own time. I am not condoning those actions either but at the same time, it’s your life and you can do whatever you want with it.****
Regardless of your personal choices, this is what it says about your personality:
Laid-back, chill AF – almost too laid back it can sometimes be mistaken for laziness – but at the same time, a lot of you reading this probably are lazy and already know that. Its not a roast, I’m just affirming what you already know LOL. Big couch potato energy. Very laxed. As contradictory as it sounds, this is actually why people become addicted to your energy. There isn’t a lot of people who have the chill factor that you have and being around you is like a break from the hustle and bustle of life.
The cool kid – the IT Boy/Girl. Everything you do is effortless
Iconic – does your own thing & known for not following the crowd
You guys have a mind of your own!
Unbothered – it is very hard to ruffle your feathers or get a reaction out of you. It is both an admirable and irritable trait depending on who you’re talking to. If not, you may just react to things very slowly and may find yourself hot and bothered after the fact
Very easy going and easy to talk to – you can chop it up with almost all personalities because you are very relatable and relaxed.
CLASS CLOWN VIBES - you may not take things too seriously and can find humor in anything! You say some funny shit man, and you aren’t even trying to be funny.
EFFORTLESS COMEDIAN.
Very witty and intelligent
You can hold a conversation with a variety of people. Whether its small talk or deep intellectual conversations.
People remember you for the conversations that they have with you and the energy that you bring to the conversation. You may not even realize the effect your words or energy have on people but it lingers on their mind and energy long after you have gone away. All a person needs is one “hit” of your energy.
Might be apart of the “woke” culture or many people would describe you as being “woke”
May be labeled an overthinker, borderline paranoid but also a very critical thinker. You may think about things that most people don’t think about. It may shock others how much you know about a variety of topics  
Very grounded and rooted in whatever it is that you do.
Natural beauties and very natural bodies.
“LOVE CHILD”
Hippy vibes
You have a reputation for always being in a good mood and always being happy for no reason. Its very rare that you are in a bad mood. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have those days. You just know how to guard your emotions and only let a small number of trusted people see your vulnerable side.
Y’all are A VIBE. Periodt. Point. Blank.
You can vibe with a crowd AND you can vibe all on your own. You could be both introverted and extroverted depending on your mood. Sometimes you might be in a corner on your own doing your own thing, other times you’re mingling with a variety of different people. Just depends on your mood.
You probably have lots of conversations with your self all the time. People might think you’re a little weird for that but you might find it funny
Very unique and one of a kind
You might have your own distinct smell. Maybe you have a certain perfume/cologne that you use all the time that people know you for. OR maybe you just stink and smell like body odor. It can be either one of those two extremes LOL (Smokers LOVE the smell of weed, nonsmokers tend to strongly DESPISE the smell of weed so it goes both ways. Don’t shoot the messenger HAHA)
May have a love for music or be very musically inclined
Lyricist, journalist, writer/author - may be very good at articulating your thoughts and emotions but you may mumble or speak softly.
Every moment with you is a HIGH moment – by “high”, I mean when people see you, even if the interaction is short, its most often the HIGHlight of peoples day.
Everyones BUDdy
Wall FLOWER vibes
May be looked at as slightly ditzy
ADVICE:
Tap into your creativity more. This pile has the creative abilities, if improved and mastered, can be monetized on greatly.
Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and to stand out.
If you struggle with overthinking, it means you aren’t taking enough action. Start moving and putting your amazing thoughts into action so you can manifest the life you dream about all the time. Mistakes are inevitable and part of the growing process so don’t be afraid to make mistakes or make a fool out of yourself. That’s how you learn. The longer you sit on your ideas, the easier it is for doubtful thoughts to creep in which in turn will stop you from taking any type of action. It is time to take action and slow down the voices in your head telling you that you aren’t enough.
Believe in yourself more and learn to love yourself for all your flaws. Your biggest critic and your biggest competition should always be yourself so build yourself up more. Quit the negative self talk. Critique yourself towards improvement but not to the point of giving up. You’re more than you give yourself credit for.
Be more comfortable speaking your mind in the moment instead of bottling everything up all the time. You only end up beating yourself up in the end and it slows down your progress.
If you are addicted to the drug, my advice is to take a break from it for a bit so you can start being active again in your own life. You don't have to quit cold turkey. Take it one day at a time but the wheels will start moving for you soon as you make that change. Too much of anything, even if it's good for you, can eventually start to work against you. But it's your life. If you can find that balance while still keeping it in your life, more power to ya! 😊
CHANNELED SONG:
MOVING ABOUT MY WAYS by Josh Wawa White
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PILE 2: ACE OF CLUBS
If you chose pile 2, the vice that best describes your personality is:
***ALCOHOLIC***
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**** DISCLAIMER: I am not insinuating that you drink a lot of alcohol, even if that's true haha. I am not your doctor, pastor, therapist, parent, sibling, boss, the police, your parole officer, NONE OF THAT. So I don’t care what you do on your own time. I am not condoning those actions either but at the same time, it’s your life and you can do whatever you want with it.****
Regardless of your personal choices, this is what it says about your personality:
BIG GOOFBALL ENERGYYYY
Very energetic and MAFANA (pronounced “mah-fah-nah” meaning “heated” in the Tongan language). You might always be MAFANA and ready to do anything at any moment. Also you might literally be MAFANA in body temperature. Might have a warmer body temperature or may always be hot even in colder temperatures. May enjoy very hot showers as well.
Extremely physically attractive. Sexy and sultry type of aesthetic
Very seductive mannerisms and voice
Very spontaneous and slightly chaotic
You might speak in slang a lot – doesn’t matter the slang, but you have your own way of speaking
People would probably describe you as being very bold and confident. You aren’t afraid to say what’s on your mind and you don’t care who hears.
True to yourself
Very genuine and authentic in all your interactions
You’re probably sociable and outgoing
Extremely outgoing – very rarely are you ever alone. You always have a crowd of people surrounding you or with you.
You have your own unique sense of style and fashion taste. People know and recognize you for your fashion sense. It’s just very……YOU.
Brutally honest but honest nonetheless – people may avoid you because of how honest you can be. But people know when they really need an honest opinion, you are the first person to come to mind.
People may describe you as having multiple personalities. It can be both a good thing or a bad thing depending on who you are talking to. One things for sure, getting to know you is NEVER a bore.
Never a dull moment when you are around
LIFE OF THE PARTY
You are the person everyone hopes to see at an event or a party because they know it will be a fun time if you are around.
Very confident – ALPHA vibes – BOSS energy
You may be everyone’s “go-to” person when they need to vent or get things off their chest. Interacting with you is like a glass of wine at the end of a really rough day. If it was a really tough day, you’re more like 3 shots of Henney instead of wine, lets be honest.
You have a “numbing” effect on people – interacting with you is like nothing else matters but the present moment. You’re a very rare type of person
You are the person to impress! Every room you walk into and every person you interact with, you are the center of attention & people will do anything to get your attention praise, & validation.
Not only are you the person to impress, you are also a very impressive person. You impress through your looks, your skills, your intellect, etc – ALL AROUND impressive
You are very expressive, blunt, and outspoken. You say whatever is at the top of your mind and react to everything based off of your emotions in the moment.
May at times be very moody
Night owls
Kareoke King/Queen
Shameless
No one ever knows what to expect with you. You keep everyone on their toes
Maybe a bit clumsy and silly but thats why people love your energy. Its giving "overgrown child" vibes and its refreshing.
You help heal alot of peoples inner child just by being yourself. You bring that young vibe to any occasion.
ADVICE:
Take more time for yourself and away from the noise and the audience. I sense that you don’t enjoy being alone because that is when the dark thoughts creep in. Maybe you dislike feeling lonely. Get more comfortable with being on your own and in your own energy. Sort out those dark thoughts. Try to figure out where the darkness originated from and learn to heal it. It will improve your social interactions greatly.
Learn to enjoy silence. A lot of positive ideas, peace, and self discovery can be found in the silence.
Your greatest strength is your outspokenness. However, by remaining silent, you can avoid a lot of regret for yourself. You can also learn a lot about others simply by listening and remaining silent. Stay outspoken, but add silence into your personality every now and then to bring more balance to your character
SLOW DOWN - in all areas! Speak slower, walk slower, think slower, react slower, develop relationships slower, etc. You may start many things very quickly and burn out just as fast. Learn to pace yourself and develop your mental/physical stamina
If you are addicted to the alcohol, my advice would be to find a healthier hobby to substitute that vice. Exercise helps with regulating your emotions as well as a healthy eating plan. Get more sleep and start journaling. Having an outlet to really pour out your emotions will keep you from pouring another cup. Take it one day at a time, but the wheels will start rolling for you once you make that change. But it's your life, do as you please! If you can find that balance in your life, more power to ya!
CHANNELED SONGS: ALCOHOLIC by COMMON KINGS
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PILE 3: ACE OF DIAMONDS
If you chose pile 1, the vice that best describes your personality is:
***CRACKHEAD***
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**** DISCLAIMER: I am not insinuating that you’re a meth/coke head, even if that's true haha. I am not your doctor, pastor, therapist, parent, sibling, boss, the police, your parole officer, NONE OF THAT. So I dont care what you do on your own time. I am not condoning those actions either but its your life and you can do whatever you want with it.****
Regardless of your personal choices, this is what it says about your personality:
The most energetic of all the piles
CEO/Supervisor energy
Very focused and determined to accomplish anything you set your mind to. You are willing to start things over as many times as you need until you get it right.
You may have an addictive personality but also others may find your personality very addicting as well. Once someone has tasted your energy, its very hard to shake you.
People may become very obsessed with you. You circle peoples minds multiple times a day. They just cant figure you out. You may also be very obsessive and possessive yourself.
FOCUSED. FOCUSED. FOCUSED, Extremely focused individuals. Your focus is probably your most admirable trait.
As focused as you are, you are also probably a very great multitasker
Entrepreneurs or entrepreneurs in the making. You may be very business minded
You are usually always 10 steps ahead of the game. You see all sides and make very calculated moves based off of your observations.
Very observant individuals. You probably notice and remember the tiniest details about people and you know how to make people feel really special in every interaction with you. People don’t expect you to remember certain things they’ve mentioned or worn, but when you bring it up to them long after the fact, you really make people feel SEEN & HEARD. This makes you more trustworthy in their eyes.
May be accused of being narcissistic but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. You may have been a victim to narcissistic abuse in the past so you’ve learned the ins and outs of all the mind games being played. So when someone uses a mind game on you, you flip it back on them and then they have the audacity to call YOU the narcissist. It has become your tool for self defense but also agitates those on the receiving end of your narcissism. To put it into perspective, most super heros and world leaders are narcissistic because they need to be. If not, they would get chewed up and spit out by the world and wouldn’t last a day in their position. If they wanna call you a narcissist because you refuse to adopt their mindset or their perspective, then so be it! Accept the title and keep it pushing. Remain true to yourself.
Very self-reliant and reliable. You conquer every task and assignment thrown at you and you do an amazing job at it in a very time efficient manner. People may try to discredit you or say you couldn’t have done it all by yourself but the proof is in the pudding darling. In reality, these folks are just projecting their own insecurities on to you because we all know, if they were in your position, there is no way they could have done that on their own. No one can deny your workmanship because you prove it time and time again.
Lone wolf vibes. You may not have many friends or you may not be open to inviting new people into your circle. “NO NEW FRIENDS” vibes
You probably have a sturdy set of friends and you’ve known them for a long time.
Very secretive and private. You may enjoy your privacy and may tend to keep a lot of your life hidden from the public eye.
Very protective of your energy and your space.
May have a lot of people who constantly have an opinion on your life. You do a great job at blocking them and their noise out of the way and continuing to push along.
STRONG STAMINA – yall can last for a lonnnngggg time (however you interpret that LOL)
Great debater – if someone wants to come at you sideways, they better come prepared with their arguments because going against you isn’t easy. You know yourself, you know your facts and you know what happened. Barely nothing gets past you.
Out of all the piles, this pile has the most haters. I don’t know why and neither do you. You must be someone of significance to have this many haters. You represent PRESSURE and people feel that energy as soon as you walk into the room. This is a compliment for you but a threat to your haters. No one wants to feel pressured to improve. You don’t try to apply pressure. You just ARE pressure.
You cant be tamed. Very hard to lock down and hard to pin down.
Unbeatable
Invincible
Immunity
Misjudged and misunderstood but never stops remaining true to yourself. Let the haters do their thing but keep doing you booboo.
Diamond in the rough
Might wear a lot of jewelry or you should wear more jewelry but this is something people notice about you. Maybe you have tons of jewelry or you have a piece of jewelry that people remember you for. If not, I suggest wearing more jewelry because it looks great on you.
ADVICE
Learn to handle the pressure that comes your way. You attract what you put out there and unfortunately, this is one of those things that is out of your control. People feel pressured when you are around therefore, you may feel as though pressure is constantly being applied to you. Don’t sweat it. These experiences are to show you how strong your character truly is but you must remain true to who you are if you want it to work in your favor.
Its okay to be more open and available to others. You can still maintain your strong boundaries but you don’t have to shut the entire world out. Remain open!
Keeping an open mind may also be helpful for you. Not everything will play out the way you envisioned it in your brain so keep an open mind so you can solve your problems as they arise.
Take some time to relax. You give off very strong workaholic vibes and sometimes you can overwork yourself to exhaustion. Give your body the rest it needs through sleep. Remember to eat throughout the day and fill your body up with the nutrients it needs to keep you going and alert for your various tasks. Go outside and enjoy the outdoors. Take time to care for yourself.
 Learn to lighten up a little. Your laser focus can sometimes make you too serious to be around. Laugh a little. Smile more. Let loose. Enjoy the life in front of you. Balance out your work and play and you’ll find your life is more enjoyable that way.
If you are addicted to the drug, my advice would be to invest in yourself more. You won't have the money to spend on drugs if you throw your money into something that will benefit you more in the long run. Take a class to build on a skill you already have, sign up for a committee, give yourself responsibility and bring purpose back into your life. But start small. Learn to depend on yourself and hold yourself up before trying to overextend yourself for others. Too much responsibility is probably what got you to this point or maybe it was the lack thereof. Whatever the case be, you need to love on yourself more & know that you are more than enough. The wheels will start moving for you once you make that change and the clarity that follows will bring you immense joy.
CHANNELED SONG: WINNAH WINNAH by RIA ft SPAWNBREEZIE
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turbulentscrawl · 4 months
Text
Ganji Gupta General HCs
I'm unable to make a header for Ganji at the moment, but I'll add one to the post later when I can get on my good desktop.
Edit: Added!
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-First of all, in case it isn’t clear, Ganji started the fire. However, it’s important to note that Ganji chose arson for a few specific reasons. Plausible deniability was one. The second was that a fire gave people a chance to escape. Ganji believes in something along the lines of karma (I’m not especially religious or philosophical myself so I don’t feel inclined to pick one in particular for him), and a fire better allowed that to step in and save his targets. If the universe or whatever higher power, decided they deserved to live then they would, and Ganji could rest assured that they weren’t a wholly bad person. All but that child perished in the smoke and flames, though, so that settles that doesn’t it?
-Ganji is a man suffering from disillusionment. This is the result of him being taken advantage of. He left everything behind, came to another county just for the sport he loved, for his passion, only to find out that he was seen as nothing more than a novelty item. Something—not even a someone—kept around because his very existence was “amusing.” Disgusting.
-And it all happened because he’s naïve. He knows this, and just about everyone that’s around him for more than a day knows it, so now he’s incredibly protective of that aspect of himself. He’s not self-conscious of it or anything, he knows that naivety is just as aspect of someone being kind and trusting, but he’ll be damned if he lets someone else use him to their benefit again.
-Like Andrew, he’s developed a tendency to be sharp and reclusive as a defense mechanism. However, his emotional walls aren’t as thick, as dense. In a way, his hurt runs less deep because he doesn’t have self-hatred to factor into the cocktail of his pain. He warms to people faster and has a sweeter disposition under his cover…but you’ll have to be persistent if you want to get to that point. Ganji will shrug off offerings of kindness several times before giving someone a chance.
-In-line with his kindheartedness, but counter to the façade he puts up, Ganji can’t ignore someone else in real need. His mask falls as soon as someone’s peace or safety are threatened. He’s either the greatest hero or the biggest liability to have in a match because he can and will charge head-long into a hunter if it means saving another survivor. Even the ones he doesn’t like all that much. Additionally, he’s generally willing to argue on behalf of someone not willing to speak up for themselves.
-This boy is hard-headed. Stubborn! There are so many stupid hills he’s willing to die on. But he’s also not very good at arguments (which is unfortunate, considering the above hc), he stumbles over his words a lot, jumbles his points up. He sounds a lot more put-together in writing than in person, but his handwriting is atrocious so honestly good luck reading it. Poor guy is at a communication crossroads and both roads lead to embarrassment.
-As one might guess, this all makes Ganji very one-track minded in matches…and with most of his problems in life. Something wrong, anything? Swing the bat. At a ball, at a head. You know, whatever the situation calls for.
-His nativity also means that he doesn’t pick up on flirtation well. Someone either has to be very direct or very patient for Ganji to pick up on their interest. When he does catch on, he’s hesitant to reciprocate. He can’t deny the appeal of relationships, but he hasn’t had one since before he left home. Things are different. Really different, considering the manor…but it’s not hard to convince the guy to give love a chance as long as you’re not overly pushy.
-He spends a lot of free time at the manor trying to get people to play cricket with him. It doesn’t matter that no one else is really good at it, he just misses playing. William and Mike are the only ones who agree regularly, and that’s certainly not enough people. Most others only play along for Ganji’s birthday.
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jackiepackiee · 2 months
Note
hey hey, can I request chuuya and ranpo (if u don't write him it can be dazai, I don't mind) with a gn or fem reader who has alopecia areata?- like, reader is pretty insecure and wears hats or wigs to hide it, yea I totally don't have alopecia and it's totally not worsening rn lmao anyways remember to drink water!
BSD x Alopecia Areata reader
Chuuya, Dazai, Ranpo
Warnings- none?
Type- headcanons
All three 🙏
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Okay… who better than the king of hats himself to help out his lovely partner?!?
If you ask, will most definitely buy you matching ones
Thinks is absolutely adorable to see you in one of his hats
Always giving you his incase you forget yours
But on a serious note, if you wanted it to go away he would do absolutely anything to find a remedy
Money? He’d burn down the world for you, so money isn’t an issue
The best doctor, experts. The whole works
However, if you don’t wanna fix it? That’s okay too, he supports whatever decision you make
“Baby, I don’t love ya any less. Ya hear me?”
Genuinely, he doesn’t mind it
Hair isn’t a big factor at all to him, personality is
And if anyone is mean to you?!?
Pray for them…
This port mafia executive has hurt many, a few punks is no issue
Overall, very helpful. May not be the best with comforting words
But trust, if anyone hurt you feelings? They’ll feel some pain in 20 minutes
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Unfortunately, Dazai isn’t the best with genuine emotion
So words of comfort aren’t his forte, essentially because he uses his silver tongue on enemies
He would never fake his words to you
As for the symptoms?
This man knows more than you, the person will it
He will study every article, read every book
Hell, he’s practically a doctor
As for his more womanizer personality? That’s bs
He would never criticize anyone good based on their appearance
This is no different, he will never bring it up
Before you tell him, he’ll probably know
He’s just smart
But when you tell him? He’ll act as if it’s nothing
Not in a “I don’t care” way. In more of a “I support you, but it doesn’t affect our love”
He also might seem cheap, cause he is…
But, he may or may not use some port mafia tricks to snatch a hat of beanie that caught you eye
Overall, makes you feel as if you have nothing to worry about at all
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Knew from the second he met you
Although he seems childish? He would never ever bring it up
He is smart (obviously) and would never want to hurt your feelings
So… you’ll have to bring it up first
“Oh, that? I knew. You’re dating the world’s best detective!”
If you’re ever in a bad mood over it, feeling insecure, he’ll give you snacks.
Definitely has your favorite sweet on hand
But will deny this if you ask
Similarly to the others, doesn’t mind it
But, if your mood is worse than normal? He can be very articulate and will comfort you
Somehow, he’s incredibly talented at comfort
(It’s just him being smart)
You’d forget whatever you were upset about
Overall, the chillest experience
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therentyoupay · 2 months
Note
Hiiii I need help
I’m having trouble writing a fight scene between two characters in a relationship. I don’t want it to be a break up sort of fight, just a healthy spat between lovers that will make their relationship all the stronger after they resolve it. But I’m not really well versed in “healthy conflict” so I was hoping you’d have some questions to keep in mind/tips experience you could share because you’re an amazing writer 🙏🏻
HELLO MY DARLING
first, thank you so much for your sweet words. 😭😭😭😭😭😭🙏 second, i have been pondering your question for a day and a half!
i have been really thinking about it and i have some initial thoughts… but i am sure that this post will just be the start of an ongoing conversation. i think the word i have been chewing on is “healthy.” on the one hand, there are certain things that most people might universally agree as “healthy conflict” in a relationship (or nearly universally), and then there are things that are very culture-dependent (and i do not mean this necessarily in the essentialist sense, i.e., nation-state-as-culture, but also in terms of ‘doing culture’ according to family, friends, region, socioeconomic status, social rank, behaviors, etc.). and then there are things in each relationship that may be less healthy than the ideal but still healthy in the long run, in the sense that it provides space for growth; couples have horribles fights that nearly tear them apart but, for whatever reason, don’t. in my experience, both in life and in fiction, sometimes i think these can often be the hardest, toughest fights, because they have the lowest lows but the highest potential for hope/resolution/something better.
if i am thinking on what it is about these fights that make them so painful and exhausting and “i just want to find a way to fix this but i can’t see the way forward and i am going to stay because i love them but i don’t have the tools right now to get out of this hole,” here’s what comes to mind:
both people are in pain
somehow, trust has been lost to some degree
one or both people do not currently feel safe, either from judgment or abandonment… maybe both… maybe something else too
a disagreement may turn “ugly” so quickly when things that are shared in confidence are thrown back in someone’s face, or some vulnerable sticking point that is supposed to be protected is being used against them in the heat of the argument because things begin to escalate so quickly
at what point can one person step in and find a space to pause/timeout; table the conversation; de-escalate? if neither can, the fight gets worse. if at least one can… that could be the turning point for a softer resolution, even if the other person needs additional coaxing or convincing to join them in the de-escalation. can both suddenly or eventually pause and de-escalate? through humor? through a release of emotion at the core under the anger, like tears and sadness?
at some point during these fights, or perhaps after, one or both might start to feel shame… for their behaviors, their reactions, their words… how can one person bridge the gap that was created when one or both crossed a line? (or many lines?) sometimes all it can take is a hug to lessen the divide, and sometimes apologies are necessary, and plans for changing behaviors, and explanations, or any combination. so how does one (or both) handle their apology? are they both good at taking accountability and learning at this stage in their relationship? do they make good on their promises to change, or at least try? (we are human after all!)
does the resolution match the degree of the fight? if something was weaponized, has it been dismantled by the end, or is it left hanging in the air, even after the apology or de-escalation?
definitely lots to think about! i think the degree of “healthy” is going to depend on a lot of factors, and will inevitably also be influenced by your readers’ personal experiences and what they bring to their interpretations! but definitely things to potentially keep in mind: who is in pain and why? what tools do they have to resolve the pain? are they scared to solve it or not solve it (or both)? how well can they solve it at this moment in time—or later?
thank you for the ask!!!! 💕💕💕💕 good luck and keep me posted!!! i hope these are helpful. 🙏🙏🙏🙏
also, others: please feel free to add additional thoughts and considerations!!! 🙏🙏🙏🙏
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Demon Courting Rituals
I don´t I have to warn for anything but my usual stupidity, also those are just my Headcanons that I came up with on the go without that much thought this somehow managed to get 800+ words
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depending on the Demon it could be a very bloody affair or relatively normal things
most common things during Courting for different types of Demons are
Pride: they usually try to show of in front of the being of their choosing regarding various skills they learned through their life time
the better they are the more willing to show of they are, various Pride Demons are also know to subtly bring up their best skills to show of in front of their Love interest without appearing to desperate for them, they are still Pride Demons after all
Greed: they usually try to either find the most valuable things to gift to their Love interest or they making something truly impressive for them with the wealth and valuables they have now
if a Greed Demon fall in love with another Greed Demon making something themselves out of the most expensive things they could get their hands on usually guarantees the other Greed Demon to accept
but anyone else might not immediately get the gesture and thinks the Greed Demon might just try to show off their wealth, I mean it is but it´s more to show their Love interest how much they have to offer for them
Envy: their Courting habits are rather interesting considering a lot of the time you can´t tell if they truly are interested in their Love interest or just want either whatever the Love interest has or to be the Love interest, in rare cases two or more of these factors could also apply
they also tend to do things or give their love interest gifts with the intent to make others envious of the Love interest, this can sometimes result in mixed reactions even among other Envy Demons
because the Love interest sometimes doesn´t know the true intent behind the Demons actions, though rarely it sometimes happened that actions taken to make the person envious was taken as a Courting sign
Wrath: a lot of their Courting involves physical violence, which also a big reason why a lot of Love interest will think the Wrath Demon despises them despite the Wrath Demon just expressing their feelings in their own specific way
the also tend to gift their Love interest trophies they got from fights, this could range from them showing of scars to them gifting their Love interest the Heart of a Rival, this could be a general Rival or just another unfortunate being which fell in love with the same person as the Wrath Demon
Lust: they mostly try to show of… well to not make it 18+ let´s just say a big part of their courting is showing how much Stamina and Endurance they have
but they also try to show of in other ways for example seduction is also a big part of it as well as surprisingly Dancing with their Love interest
Lust Demons also tend to spend a lot of time with their Love interest just existing in close proximity, this is usually cuddling or just sitting close with each other unless the Love interest show displeasure at the close proximity they then will keep as much distance as they want
Gluttony: Gluttony Demons are known to give a lot of food to their Love interest, which might cause some troubles between the recipient when they aren´t a fellow Gluttony Demon and the Gluttony Demon that chose them, in those cases it will end with the Gluttony Demon sulking because they think they got reject and a lot of times they don´t think about the fact that most non-Gluttony are physically incapable of eating so much
even when they aren´t good the majority of Gluttony Demons will cook all of the food for their love interest themself, this is generally because they not only want to show of their skills but also their ability to hold themself back for their Loved one
Sloth: they usually try their best to give their Love interest the best sleep they ever had
this includes getting them the comfiest bedding, sleep wear and various magical items which are said to better ones sleep quality and of course those who are able to will even alter their Love interests dreams to better their sleep in case they have troubles with constant Nightmares or in some cases even attempt to stop unwanted Sleep paralysis from happening
Royal Demons also tend to give their love interests really expensive gifts to impress them and show of their standing, this usually happens no matter what Sin they are most strongly associated with alongside their normal Courting Habits
despite all of this the above mentioned methods don´t always occur during a Demons courting they are all still different Demons with different personalities and likes as well as dislikes and it isn´t guaranteed that a Demon will even follow those
during newer times and even more so after the success of the Exchange program some Demons adopted similar habits as shown in Humans and in incredibly rare cases even Angels
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tomatoland · 5 months
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Force & Book's relationship is quintessential gardener-flower relationship
So the idea of the gardener-flower dynamic is not new. It's actually been around for awhile now and has been in media (for example, season 1 of Will & Grace, the movie "I, Tonya," Will Smith made a video called "Defining Love" talking about it, but more about this in a sec), articles, etc.
It's a concept that in every relationship or “garden,” one person is the gardener who tends and one person is the flower who gets tended to. There can also be two gardeners in a relationship, but never two flowers because then no one would care to tend to anything.
In their relationship, Force is the gardener and Book is the flower. And they understand this too. Force is Book's “Life Master,” right?
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Force's efforts in the early days as the gardener of their relationship are well documented in the FB fandom. How he nurtured their relationship and connection when Book was too scared to engage during Enchante era due to a painful friend experience in college.
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But it's not just nurture, love and care that the gardener provides to the flower and their relationship and this next part is where I think Force is an amazing and natural gardener with Book.
"The relationship that a gardener has with a flower is, the gardener wants the flower to be what the flower is designed to be — not what the gardener wants the flower to be. You want the flower to bloom and to blossom and to become what IT wants to be, you want it to become what God designed it to be. You’re not demanding that it become what you need it to be for your ego.” -Will Smith
Whatever Book does, Force is his Number 1 supporter.
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"Geng mak" or good job/well done is the unofficial foxmochi cheer because Force is always telling Book this after he performs or speaks or even illogically when they are playing on separate teams lol.
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Book's love language is words of affirmation and Force always lets Book know because he knows this. And now Book tells Force this back. And foxmochis tell them both at events and appearances.
You might think this dynamic is unfair or unbalanced to the gardener because you would think that being flower is easy. The flower just exists and receives love and attention, but these were interesting insights I read about why being the flower can actually be hard. First, you have accept that you are the flower which is not so easy to do, accepting the care and nurture being given to you. It can be scary and intimidating to do the introspection, soul searching, and cliff jumping required to be the flower. There can be this fear that what you are doing is bringing down your partner. Sound a little like someone?
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To me, it makes absolute sense that ForceBook as a pairing is flourishing this year because Book is truly coming into his own as the flower Force always knew he could be.
The more confident Book becomes in his abilities, in sharing his gifts with the world, the more people will see him and come to love him, to love THEM. And as a pairing, the more successful they'll be. Their star is rising sharply and while there are a lot of people in the background who contribute to this, I have to think that Force's role as the gardener to Book's flower factors significantly.
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"And, as we grow, we’ll all be called upon to do some gardening of our own. Gardening that, because we’ve experienced love and care and support from others, we’ll inevitably be better at doing ourselves."
And we're now seeing this. This year was ForceBook's first LOL Fan Fest, first international fan meetings, and GMMTV fan days where they had to give speeches. And if you watch, during ments, when Force gets emotional, Book's hand always goes to Force's shoulder IMMEDIATELY as a sign of support like "I'm here for you/ Standing with you" and this helps ground Force enough so he can continue speaking (I can't find a photo rn so accept this placeholder until). Or the story they shared where they were both nervous while prepping for their first LOL Fan Fest and Force would come around and ask Book if Book wanted a hug… because Force wanted a hug. Force's love language is physical touch by the way if you couldn’t tell lol.
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Or when they're doing an event or press and Force is tired or not feeling 100, Book will be MORE that day for the both of them or he'll check in on Force during interviews or press.
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This unspoken dialogue and understanding they have between each other is really beautiful.
Force, I would say is still the primary gardener of their relationship, but now he doesn't always have to be. They can take turns supporting each other to be the best versions of themselves. And I love that for them.
eng trans from happyduckie_, CreamsicleBlair, ceci9697, khenhsdiary, minty_licious; articles 1 2 3 "Defining Love"
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milamilamilax · 23 days
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Sydney's mental health
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I’ve read plenty of theories about Sydney’s potential health issues, particularly whether she might have lupus, but I think the show could take a different approach. There are various clues throughout the two seasons pointing at mental health issues for Sydney, which I think these point towards things potentially getting worse for Sydney as she puts too much pressure on herself - or perhaps hints of a backstory for Sydney, but the clues are definitely there. 
We’ve seen general hints about Sydney having anxiety, e.g. struggling to sleep, haunted by memories of catering, and the stomach problems she has, likely due to stress. We also know that she is closed off emotionally, to the extent that she arguably even hides the truth about her mother’s death. Although we haven’t seen it officially yet, her “c’est pas grave” tattoo feels like something someone with anxiety would say to themselves as a kind of motto.
Specific things I’ve noticed while rewatching that support this include:
Sydney talking to Carmy (1x05) about the collapse of her business “My whole shit got rocked. And there’s not a night I don’t stay up just thinking about what I could’ve done different.” Sydney refers to her shit getting rocked separately to her credit getting fucked. Notably, when talking with Marcus about the same thing (the collapse of her business) in 1x08 is how this affected her finances - her negative credit score and moving back in with her dad, so she must be thinking of something else here. (I also think this is a sign of Sydney/Carmy > Sydney/Marcus; she’s more open with Carmy when they barely know each other than she is with Marcus when they’re hanging out outside of work as friends.)
In the shots of Sydney's bedroom (also in 1x05) the choices of posters could mean something more. There are 2 film posters that we see clearly in Sydney's room: (1) Jumping' Jack Flash, a film named after a Rolling Stones song, which recounts stories of intense suffering only to come out stronger, and (2) Speed, a film about a bus that has been rigged to explode if its speed drops below 50mph. This also made me of all the references to Sydney driving and how this is a metaphor for her ambition and work ethic (see here) - could it be a reference to this drive also being a weakness?
Sydney talking to Marcus (1x08), after he compliments her for not taking a day off and getting right back to cooking: “I’m just the type, like, as soon as I stop I just *mimics falling apart*". Clearly, she’s experienced this falling apart before, but this is something we haven't seen on screen. We don’t know the timelines of Sydney’s business and exactly when it fell apart, but could it be that the collapse of Sheridan Road drove her to also collapse? (This is also the conversation where she explicitly says to Marcus "It would be weird to work in a restaurant and not completely lose your mind," but I think this is something different to her references to losing her mind when she's not working.)
Sydney talking with her dad (2x02), she differentiates The Bear from her previous business, saying: “I’m in a much better place than last time.” I found this choice of words interesting - separately, she mentions that she’s learned lots of lessons, and has a partner now, but the reference to a “better place” is distinct. What kind of “place” she was in when she started and closed Sheridan Road? It sounds like whatever her emotional and mental state was, it was at least a factor in her failure there. It’s also interesting that she didn’t mention this as one of the reasons for leaving catering when she discussed it with Carmy in 1x05: she didn’t refer to any personal factors, focusing instead on the logistical challenges (on her business getting too big too fast, and the difficulties of running it out of her garage). 
Emmanuel to Sydney (2x09): “I know you can put a lot of pressure on yourself”; Sydney responds: “why can’t we put everything that we have into everything that we can?” And then, “I don’t know if I could do another one.” This exchange isn't subtle at all, because Emmanuel is a great dad and cares about his daughter, but I find it interesting how much he is focused on the pressure Sydney puts herself under; he's no longer focusing on the risky nature of the industry or her change in plan as he was in 2x02, he’s only concerned about her wellbeing here. We know how much pressure she is in fact putting on herself (to get a star, and to generally be the best) so could she end up pushing herself too far again?
Sydney talking to Carmy (2x09) in the infamous table scene: “What if I just, like, completely melt? Like I just, fuck up and fail?” Now, at this point, we haven’t actually seen Sydney completely melt. In 1x05 and 1x06 she handles crises at the restaurant like a boss and saves the day with her quick thinking, and even with the to-go crisis in 1x08, her initial response is to try to help - what makes her throw in the towel is Carmy’s attitude towards her. She could also be referring to the final pasta dish she did for Sheridan Road, but this also didn't sound like "completely melting" to me. I think she’s remembering another time here, a different memory that we haven't seen yet - or perhaps foreshadowing melting in the future.
I’m also interested in how the writers have made Sydney so similar to both Carmy and Mikey, two characters who we know have struggled with extremely poor mental health.
Now, Sydney and Carmy's clothes (think matching jumpers, uniforms, the Thom Browne connection - see post here), language (see this post), and even their names (see here) show how similar they are. This post, however, made me realise how much the writers have also made Sydney mirror Mikey. Maybe the writers are hinting at a similar spiral (although I couldn't imagine this involving drugs specifically, which is something we've never seen referred to in the context of Sydney). 
When Mikey was spiralling, Carmy was away - he didn’t even know Mikey was using drugs, and he didn't go home in the immediate aftermath. Likewise, in 2x10, Carmy is (for all intents and purposes) away and unable to help Sydney when she begins to lose control of the situation. Just as with Mikey, Richie is the one who is available - and, this time, he’s able to save the day.
Generally, Sydney appears relatively stable on the surface, particularly when we compare her to some of the Berzatto family - but I think this is at least partly a case of her being a character who doesn't let her emotions show as much. My own theory for S3 is that the above is either hinting at a larger spiral for Sydney, or is some heavy hinting for Sydney's backstory, which I hope to God we get to see more of.
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