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#okay i could go forever but i'm done
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Some recent pressed leaves and stuff to add to the collection :0
#LOV giant nasturtium leaves#and they press weirdly thin like when they dry out it's almost like a super super fragile sheet of tracing paper or something#I also just really enjoy collecting textures and patterns and stuff. like it's not really about them looking pretty but more just#something notable. like the cool dotted pattern or the stripey veiny looking one#I have so much I want to get done by the end of the year but have been so unproductive still lol ToT#I've had new costumes and like Actual Stuff To Post for probably 2 months now but they just sit in a folder and I forget about#them and like walk in circles talking to myself all day instead or something hhh#I think it's the classic cycle of like 'I am too stressed to be productive > the fact that i'm not being productive stresses me out > i am#even more stressed and no more productive > being unproductive stresses me out > so on and so forth forever' lol#or the 'I have so many goals in life and so much motivation and so many things I love and want to do > there are too many things to do#at once and it's overwhelming > do none of them instead'  cycle lol#I think my main focuses in the new year though are to finally finish the worldbuilding slideshow. Do more costumes. And do more sculptures#since I haven't done a lot of those in a while. And still work on my games and short stories and stuff that takes place in my worldbuilding#world but those are more difficult longterm tasks so I think they should be like. not the MAIN main focus or else I'll never feel like I do#anything. I think that was the problem for the past while is that the things I had delegated as my Main Focuses That Go Above All Else#are so long and difficult and tedious that you never feel like you're making progress so it's like you're ignoring all the other stuff you#could be doing in favor of a thing that feels like you're not doing anything thus you get a chronic feeling of never finishing anything ever#Whereas like. I can do a sculpture in a day or two. and I can do costumes in a day or less. Having a steadier flow of Small Things i can fee#l like I'm actually accomplishing will maybe help it not just be like 'okay I spent a whole day doing somehting and have nothing tangible to#show for it because it's just text in a word document that probably nothing will ever even come of because it will take me years to finish'#The biggest insurmountable task at the moment is the worldbuilding slideshow but I am chugging through.. slowly lol.. It takes me about#2 hours to read 25 slides (they're not bullet points it's like little paragraphs on each slide). and I have about 800 to go. so thats..#naur.. i shant even calculate it... plus editing one hour of vidoe usually takes about 2 hours so you double it. if I have that much recordi#ng of me reading slides to edit. then turning them all into a final video should take.... i cannot say. i shall not think of it#And I've just had a very stressful few weeks HOWEVER I just always like tp start the new year with stuff cleared like.. all of my messages I#haven't answered in 3+ weeks responded to. all of my emails to my doctors checked. house cleaned and organized. photos cleared and organized#off of the computer. everyting backed up in some sort of physical storage. clear out drafts. rewrite all of my main todo lists. decide prio#rities and yearly/monthly/weekly goals. consider the trajectory of my life and what I need to do. etc. etc. So I feel like I don't have any#time to waste and can't rest. yet.. alas.. It doesn't help that I feel sick out of nowehre like 50% of the time#I know some poeple can work/focus on tasks with body aches and etc. but my brain is just always like 'No. :)' .. grrrbb
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septembersghost · 1 year
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me watching any piece of media ever made: how can i make the thesis here about the wondrous, fulfilling, frightening, destroying, restorative, glimmering thrall of, and tragic inevitability of grief within, any and every form of love?
elvis (2022): *very first thing we hear* oh, let our love survive... *later*: love song i've known since childhood used in a dark, ominous way and a desperately tender one: some things are meant to be. take my hand, take my whole life too, for i can't help falling in love... *later still*: it was love. *last*: i need your love...
ah. okay. so you just made my job too easy. i don't even have to search for it. thank you. guess i'll go insane.
#if you need the short explanation#joanna newsom: a little shade of grief comes in when love is its most real version.#then it contains death inside of it and then that death contains love inside of it.#i want to write so much but 99% of you are not here for this and think i have well and truly lost it and that's fair#what's so funny is it's exactly what happened with moulin rouge two decades ago#christian: a story about a time; a story about a place; a story about the people.#but above all things: a story about love. a love that will live forever.#younger me: thank you. guess i'll go insane!#and it predates that considerably. i have countless examples. it's so funny HOW predictable i am and have been since the age of about seven#okay i have to go to bed i'm destroying my body with sleep deprivation 😭 i'll be back for more derangement later#elvis#i was a dreamer#sail on silver girl; sail on by#it starts as OUR love because it's already telling us it's shared. we're a part of this now#and then can't help falling is like: do we find what we love or does it find us? is this fate or could one thing have been different#if one thing had been different would everything be different today#does it matter even though it's already done? (yes) if you reach out your hand to the sense of that love how does it affect your life?#(and on a personal level for me: you heard but you didn't listen carefully enough. the door was always open)#i'll be coming home. *wait* for me.#then the conclusion is it's love it was always love. but from the person who doesn't even understand that#so we have to take it to heart differently. time goes by so slowly and TIME CAN DO SO MUCH. are you still mine?#time transforms and time provides distance but time can also give clarity#and then it's an entreaty and a prayer: i need your *love*. i *need* your love. godspeed your love to me.#it's never not needed and it's never not valuable and it's never not new and it's never not fate and grief and light and spirit.#you can run and run and always land back home. you can hurt and triumph and break and always find your love. even if it's yours alone.#it's yours baby and no one can take it away from you#put me in the heart locket i'm done
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storybook-souls · 2 years
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have spent all weekend holed up in a cabin working on my novel and while it’s been very creatively fulfilling i’m left feeling very very [emotion] about the whole thing overall
#on the one hand every time i spend time writing it's so validating to get to go. 'oh i DO love this. i really really do.'#'i haven't just tricked myself into thinking i like doing this i really do feel like this is the thing i could do Forever'#but there IS a. 'hey am i actually any GOOD at this????' 'is it supposed to be easier than this? feel less like pulling teeth?'#'should the characters feel more real by now? am i as funny as i think i am? do i have the courage to take the swings i need to?#do i really control the plot as well as i need to? are my ideas really even anything at all?'#and then the third thing is. 'jesus christ it's really hard to write a novel when you have a full time job.'#especially when you're also running 4 dnd games and actually working 45ish hours a week and have to#maintain your own apartment and life and try to have some sliver of a social life and have family obligations#and are trying to get more sleep and have recently gotten back into reading books--#i got a lot done!!!! but not as much as i maybe HOPED to#this draft is like. not quite halfway done and i STILL don't know exactly what i'm doing with some of the#later chapters and while i think this draft is BETTER than draft 1 (obviously) it still like. needs a lot of work#and i'm so Tired....i feel GOOD but i'm so Tired and i have to go back to WORK on tuesday....#i. :( i know these things take time and that's okay i can be okay with it but it's just. really daunting to look down that road#and to know that i could only get as far as i did bc i set aside two whole days for it and WHEN am i gonna get that again#instead i'm just gonna have to go back to fitting it in around all the everything else which is. sigh#but i can do it! i literally can and i'm going to.#and i'm very glad i had this weekend it DID do the main thing i needed it to which is that it made me figure out#HOW to do a proper second draft. so now i can keep going#fcm#my writing
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lxnarphase · 3 months
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ah-ah, barbie, you're so fine! ๋࣭ ⭑
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special treatment : thighs edition
☾₊‧⁺...ft. : kamo choso + itadori yuuji + higuruma hiromi + ryomen sukuna
☾₊‧⁺...cw : pussy eating, facesitting, somnophilia, dirty talk, fingerfucking, overstimulation, praise kink, degradation, desperation, oral fixation, squirting, creampie, choso being whiny, yuuji being a little shit, yuuji is 21yrs & a college student, hiromi being pussydrunk, sukuna being whipped
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✧ k. choso : poor choso, ever since the first time he's gotten a taste of what's between your thighs, he's begging you every day just to eat your cunt. but today? today must be a bad day, because choso is desperate. his already between your thighs, whimpering and whining as he mouths at you through your underwear, tears in his eyes as he begs you to give him a little taste. once you do, his eyes are rolling back just from the first lick.
"you taste so good, fuck, so good, thank you, thank you, mmph, so delicious, i can't get enough." "can you cum again? i know it's been 4 times already, but please? please, please, pleaase, pretty thing, i need itttt..." "oh my goddd, you're cumming? yes, yes, cum on my tongue, pretty please, i'll fuck you so good after, just keep cumming, don't hold back." "stop-stop running away, i know your pretty pussy is all sensitive b-but i just, i can't stop...but you know you can say the safeword and i'll stop, right? ...what? you-you like being overstimulated...? fuck, fuck, okay, let me make you squirt on my tongue then i'll fuck you good, okay?"
✧ i. yuuji : yuuji's always been a smug little shit whenever it came to teasing you. what starts off with him tickling you and blowing raspberries into your stomach turns nto hot kisses against your stomach that let down to the waistband of your underwear as he pushes your shirt up higher on your body. he can't help but grin up at you when he notices the wet spot on your panties from his little kisses.
"d'awww, bunny, y'so cute! look at how wet you are. is that 'cus of me? ehehe, i know, i know, teasing is mean, but i can't help it...you're just so adorable." "y'know i can practically feel your heartbeat whenever i kiss it? mhm, i can feel that, pretty girl. don't cover your face, baby, you're so cute!" "your thighs are so soft. i could stay between here forever, fuck goin' to classes or missions, i'd rather just eat you out until you pass out." "open up these legs a little more, let me get my fingers in there...thereeee we go, such a pretty lil' bun, aren't you?" "you're so messy! did i do this to you? yeah? aww, my pretty girl likes meee! i felt how you squeezed on my fingers! so cute!
✧ h. hiromi : ever since you made a comment about his nose, saying 'doja is right about big noses' in passing to him, hiromi has been curious. curious enough to the point where he looks it up, seeing the video of said woman. so, you wanted to sit on his face and grind on his nose, hm? you've never sat on his face before but he was sure to change that.
"i don't care if you think i'll die, i want you to sit on my face. i'm giving you the chance to either have control of your pace or let me do what i want with you. so, what's your decision?" "see? it's not that bad, angel, you forget your husband isn't some weakling...now c'mon on, get yourself right over my mouth, let me taste you." "god, you're so beautiful like this. i need you on my face more often, you're dripping all over my mouth...such a good girl for me." "heh...i knew you said my nose was perfect for sitting on but i didn't realize it would get you this riled up. go ahead, sweet thing, you can keep grinding that clit on it...just like that, just let me make you feel good." "good lord, i never wanna leave between your thighs. so fucking sweet, shit, angel, you've got me wrapped around that pretty finger. c'mon, let me devour you all night, i'll let you get up when i'm done."
✧ r. sukuna : getting sukuna to lay on his back without him instantly taking control of the situation was easier than you thought. hell, even crawling up higher so that you were hovering over his face was too. but little did you know, sukuna was intrigued, liking the side of you where you would just take control of him, knowing that only you had the right to do that...especially if it meant he got to eat you until you soaked his face.
"you know i should kill you for thinking you can just sit on my face like i'm some kind of personal chair. i am the king of curses, not a piece of furniture...what? ...hm. i guess you do look...good over me like this." "...huh? sorry, i wasn't listening. when are you going to sit on my face? you keep blabbering, but i can see the way that sticky cunt is dripping for me. are you gonna just let it go to waste?" "oh. shit. you've been holdin' out on me, haven't you, diamond? shit, i can see all of you from down here...nah, keep grinding on my face, little one, use me for your pleasure...let me see you cum on my mouth." "such a fucking slut. my mouth is coated in your cum, but you still wanna keep going? my tongue that good for you?" "no, no, i'm not letting you back down until you beg, diamond. tell me how badly you want me to fuck your pussy with my tongue...hm. good enough."
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feyascorner · 3 months
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Okay perhaps this sounds odd but imagine Astarion starts to disassociate while intimate with Tav and so he uses their established safe word, only to be bewildered when Tav actually listens to him and stops and asks if he’s okay and tries to comfort him because nobody has cared that much before 😢
OH GODS WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME (i love it) warning for suggestive content :)
For as long as Astarion's been genuinely intimate with you, for no other reasons but simply because of the affection the two of you hold for one another, he has always been in control.
It soothes him, in a way, to be on top. And as much as he enjoys watching you come undone beneath him, there's a more frustrating reason behind why he always feels the need to be the one to push you down onto whatever surface he deems decent enough at the time. From above you, he can see every little twitch in your body, every shift in your expression, and most of all, he can control what's happening, unlike his centuries spent as a seductive tool for Cazador's own needs.
He knows you're not like those fools. He knows you're different, and you're special to him. But the gnawing voice in the back of his head always forces him to pull you in, to hold you closer, to make love to you.
It's fucked up in so many ways.
"I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."
But when you look up at him with those imploring, loving eyes, the voice seems to go quiet. He swallows the dryness of his throat, unable to think of anything but how wonderful your touch feels on his skin, and he thinks he could drown in this forever. He's putty in your hands, whether he wants to admit it or not.
"Well? Don't be a tease just standing there, darling."
In what feels like minutes, he's a mess. He's making sounds he shouldn't be making, fingertips digging into your hips as if they're the anchors keeping him from finishing too early. He breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, groaning when you caress the sharp tip of his ear between your fingers.
The only thing keeping him from spilling is the impending embarrassment he'd feel for doing so this early on in the night.
Then, everything stops.
"You're so beautiful," you whisper.
They're only words. They're not ones he's heard little of---in fact, he's heard it too much in the past two hundred years. In an instant, memories of the nights he spent under strangers, forced to shove his mind into its darkest corners just to get through their own pleasures, flood his consciousness. The sickening taste in his mouth afterward, and the need to rub his skin till it goes raw were not uncommon. It was routine. A sick part of his life that he'd rather forget.
You don't mean it the same way they did. They only said things like that because that's all they could say. They didn't know him as anything but the husk of a body he resided in. He knows you are saying the words to him. Not to his body but to the very person he is.
But the word comes spilling out his mouth, and immediately, you freeze.
You actually stopped.
Of course, you would. You're you.
"Are you okay? Did I do something?" you reach to cup either of his cheeks, and he stares at you as if you're a star that's fallen from the sky. He blinks, slowly.
"I don't know, I just---" he searches for words. "--you haven't done anything wrong, darling."
You wait for him to finish patiently. Gods, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you.
"I only remembered something I'd rather not," he plasters a crooked grin on his face. "It's quite alright. We can continue now if I haven't ruined the mood."
You pull away from him, and he fears you'll leave.
Moments later, you return with a glass of water. Wordlessly, you hand it to him, and he only stares at it, confused beyond belief. Only once he notices the way you gesture to the glass does he drink it, and you finally climb back into bed, lying down beside him.
"Come here," you open your arm, motioning him to come closer.
"Darling, as much as I'm all for experimenting, that's a strange position to have sex in."
You smile, shaking your head. You don't explain any further, only continuing to hold out your arm.
Hesitant though curious, he slowly lies down beside you, his head just above your chest and slotted between the space below your chin. With gentle hands, you pull him closer and toss the blanket over both of your bodies.
It's warm. Strange, but warm.
"You don't have to wear a mask with me," you whisper.
His eyes grow wide, and his chest stills. He doesn't have many tears left after 239 years, but there's an unfamiliar squeeze in his chest that tells him if he were still 39 and alive, he might have. Astarion wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into where he can hear the steady beating of your heart.
Later, when your eyes begin to droop, he mumbles.
"Tell me I'm beautiful again."
"You're beautiful," you say softly. "With or without your pretty face."
You might be imagining it, but you feel him smile against your skin.
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ssahotchnerr · 7 months
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Aaron having to bring his daughter with him to work for whatever reason? She’s tiny enough to not be running around and mainly just sleep on his chest all day. It’s fall outside and she’s in a warm teddy bear outfit so it’s literally like a stuffed animal on his chest as he works. She wouldn’t remember anything she saw in files but he makes sure her head is never near anything bad. Makes his heart warm and happy when the others realize that she’s there and coo over her and the outfit. Penelope takes pictures of them to send to you too 😭🖤
soak it in
i'm going to CRY cw; fem!reader, girl dad!aaron, small foyet reference
aaron's entrance into the bullpen piqued the interest of several, as it was different from any other, usual morning. not only was his briefcase in hand, but also a carseat, and a diaper bag was slung proudly over his shoulder. there were smiles from the team, some small nudges to look amongst the other units, as today's visitor was easily welcomed.
during breakfast, you had been notified your dentist appointment had been moved up, due to the office closing earlier within the day for whatever reason. with such short notice and jessica being unavailable, aaron was the obvious solution, and your daughter came to work with him - until you were done running a few errands and could drop by to retrieve her.
for the meantime - as she was there - aaron opted to work strictly on the no-pictures-included files. while she was never in close proximity to a file regardless, and today's onesie's hood happened to shield her eyes, and her little mind wouldn't process or remember anything - aaron didn't want to take any chances. he yearned to keep his daughter as far away from that, all the horrors the world possessed, for as long as he possibly could. jack had gained the knowledge - that monsters were real, just in human form - sooner than he would have liked. sadly.
currently baby girl was tucked into his chest, her right cheek smushed against him. she dozed off not too long ago; she had gotten a bit antsy and luckily his swivel desk chair allowed him to slowly rock her as he worked, in addition to soothingly shushing her, whispering that it's okay; ultimately calming her down. her little fingers found a near death grip on his shirt, clinging onto him as she slept.
when he had felt the pull of fabric, he gazed down and couldn't help but smile. aaron also took a moment, to soak it all in. the window of time where this was possible, was limited; her against his chest, small enough to be cradled in one arm, quiet and secure in the comfort of his office. all in too fast progression would aaron blink, and she would be way more interested in exploring and bouncing off the walls.
the thought immediately snapped his heart into two. if only she could stay that tiny, forever.
as he wrote, flipped a page, switched files, aaron was extremely careful to his movements. he tried not to rustle her, despite her being comfortably laid in his not-preoccupied-by-writing arm.
the sudden creak of his door lifts his eyes, penelope entering. the quietest of aw’s leaves her as she approaches, with an extra spring in her step at the sight before her. in addition, she doesn't hesitate to whisk out her phone.
"i didn't know this cutie was here today." the words leave her in a gentle, yet high, pitched tone, giddiness laced within. her jaw fully drops as she catches sight of the cozy onesie the littlest hotchner inhabits, "oh my god look at her outfit!"
“garcia.” aaron lightly warns as her volume heightens, his eyes flicking back up to her from his paperwork, his pen slowing.
“i know sorry sorry, i just neeeed to share the cuteness with the mrs.," penelope grins, aiming her camera at baby girl, and aaron, snapping a few pictures. "this is just, too dang adorable. she needs a copy, i need a copy, and i'll make you a copy too, sir."
that tugs aaron's lips into a smile, a small chuckle leaving him. "she's cute, huh?"
"um hello? cute doesn't even begin to cover it. please tell me you're the one who dressed her today. if yes, i might have to scream. just might."
"not today." aaron admitted, dropping his pen and fixing the small hood, which had fallen a bit too much in front of baby girl's face. again, his lips couldn’t help but pull into a smile. god, he loved being a girl dad, and a dad in general. "but, i may have picked it out."
"i was right. i'm going to scream." quick to realize what she said, penelope held out her hands in defense - before aaron even had the opportunity to open his mouth - clarifying with wide eyes. "internally! i'm screaming internally."
aaron took a slight pause, before speaking. “actually, about the copies - ”
penelope’s shoulders dropped in defeat, her lips pulling to the side - an equivalent to an ‘eek’. “was i too enthusiastic?”
“on the contrary,” aaron’s expression softened, laughing gently as to again, not rouse baby girl. “would you mind bringing me two? i’ll need one for in here, and for my wallet.”
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I think I have a potentially controversial opinion on Aziraphale and the ending.
So one of the things that made me smile so, SO much, was THIS:
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That PURE ABSOLUTE UTTER JOY.
We have not seen ANYTHING like that from demon Crowley. We've seen him be drunk and silly, we've seen him be amused, but we've not seen this.
Now, let's consider what we know about Heaven:
It's never fully populated. ALL of the shots are completely devoid of angels, except for a few, who are almost always just getting somewhere and never really talking to each other.
Where I thought the archangels were a tight clan, it really looks like they're super catty and prone to jealousy. No doubt they would stab each other in the back happily if it came down to it. How much of Heaven is like that, if even the archangels all hate each other?
Aziraphale already has a nervous disposition when he meets Crowley. Is he perhaps an angel that NEVER fit in? Is he familiar with being ostracized by his peers? Just how lonely IS Heaven? Crowley seems to be a pretty powerful angel, and HE doesn't even know that it's all getting shut down in 6000 years -- it's like no one talks to anyone.
Aziraphale, during their whole meeting, looks absolutely smitten. At one point, Crowley goes, "Look at you! You're gorgeous!" and Aziraphale looks over with happy surprise, just before realizing he's not looking at him but rather at what he's created. And then, when Crowley starts going on about making suggestions and asking questions, Aziraphale is IMMEDIATELY concerned and doesn't want him to get into trouble.
Aziraphale is hooked on this angel, and I cannot help but think that this is perhaps the first angel who has ever WELCOMED Aziraphale into his company.
He is hooked on this angel, and the way Crowley smiles is with the light of all the stars he's just created, and it's infectious and it brings a smile to Aziraphale's face as well. And then this angel shields him from the oncoming falling stars.
He is hooked on this angel, and then this angel goes and joins the Great Rebellion, and becomes fallen himself.
"You were an angel once," Aziraphale said, softly, at the bandstand. He remembers.
I think it's reasonable to guess that Heaven has never felt so warm as it did in the presence of millions of exploding stars, next to the (arch?)angel that may perhaps be one of the few (only?) to pay him any positive attention.
I think it's reasonable to assume that Heaven was not the same after Crowley fell. I wouldn't be surprised to find out Aziraphale had wondered about the angel, wondered if he was okay. I would imagine that Aziraphale keeps that picture of pure, angelic, unbridled joy somewhere inside of him.
So, really, is it any surprise that threaded throughout EVERY interaction, Aziraphale has this deep-down feeling that Crowley is good? Would it be any surprise that Aziraphale, an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can (which isn't always), feels that if HE is still an angel, then what was done to Crowley was a great injustice?
I think it would make sense that we are shown "before the beginning" not just because it is fun, but because THIS is the foundational context for everything Aziraphale thinks Crowley is, everything Crowley enjoys. I think he remembers this moment and wishes he could live there forever. With Crowley. The two of them with this happiness, forever.
But nothing lasts forever, as much as he wishes it did.
I'm not saying Aziraphale was right with what he did to Crowley at the end of s2. There is a lot I think he did wrong. I think he held onto this picture so tightly, he didn't realize that Crowley had long since let it go, and painted a new one with Aziraphale with all the shades of grey he picked up as he sauntered (or plummeted) vaguely downward (into a pool of boiling sulfur).
I don't think he was right, but I do think he is understandable. I think there was a lot of selfishness, but also some misguided selflessness too. I watched that first scene with angelic Crowley and my heart actually broke a little, because I thought, "What a shame this joy was taken away from him."
I think Aziraphale is trying to right the injustice he feels has been done. But I also think Aziraphale doesn't realize that Crowley can never go back. The concept of falling never crossed Crowley's mind when he suggested that he ask a few questions, and he will NEVER get that kind of innocence back. And Aziraphale doesn't understand, because Heaven has clearly always just been that way for him (he is already aware of the danger of asking questions).
Crowley does not want to go back because he can never go back. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could build a universal machine that would crank out stars for eons and eons. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could make some suggestions and ask some questions and co-create with THE Creator.
Crowley understands that, and Aziraphale doesn't. But I can understand why Aziraphale would want to try. And I think it's all because of this:
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tartarusknight · 1 month
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Steve had this habit, a habit which most of the party were annoyed by. They understood it, God did they understand. But after everything was over and the Upside Down was gone for good, it kept happening. Months and months of daily calls. Just Steve checking in and asking them about their day.
Mike hadn't understood why he was on the list of names Steve would call, but if he didn't pick up the phone, there would be a knock on the door within the hour. And Steve, sometimes followed by Robin, would stop by like he was that important to them. Once, it had been on their way to work, and Steve had only locked eyes with him and raised an eyebrow. Mike just flipped him off and continued reading his comic.
Dustin had told him it was Steve's way of coping, and Lucas had turned the calls into workouts with the older teen. Will had just gone a little red and nodded along. El smiled and told Mike about the tips for hair care she got. Max just rolled her eyes and said that Steve had taken to stopping by with food most days.
Steve would be there. He was always there. It was annoying, but it was a constant. Maybe that's why Mike laid awake as the clock ticked closer and closer to midnight. Normally, he could fall asleep within minutes, a habit he had inherited from his dad. But he could bring himself to sleep as his phone didn't ring. As the walkie stayed silent. As the door remained untouched, no knock to be heard.
And it was stupid. Because Mike didn't want Steve to call him every day just to ask him if he was okay. It made him feel like a kid. It reminded Mike of his mom, but even his mom wasn't that bad. No, no one really did that for Mike. No one checked in day after day even as he remained uncaring towards them. No one but Steve.
Until now...
Mike watched the clock as it passed midnight, and his stomach twisted into knots. Fear bubbled up, and he pictured Steve getting into a fight he couldn't walk away from. He pictured a car crash so great that Steve was unable to reach for the walkie he carried with him everywhere. He pictured the worst- the Upside Down still around. The demogorgon coming up and dragging Steve into that hellpit.
Mike was up and pulling on a warm sweatshirt before those images were fully formed. He crawled out his window and down the roof, not too unlike the way Steve had done to visit Nancy. It left him already out of breath by the time he climbed on his bike. But that didn't stop him. He pushed off the ground, biking as fast as he could towards Loch Nora.
The cold air hot his face, and the road seemed to go on forever, but Mike didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Not until Steve's place was in view.
Mike tossed his bike uncarringly onto the pavement before slamming his fist into the Harrington's nice door. He didn't let up. He couldn't as an image of Steve dead in his own pool floated in his mind.
However, then the door was opening. Steve stood there, looking like he hadn't been asleep either. A smear of white powder on his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes. But still, something eased in Mike the same time Steve lost some of that weight in his shoulders as well. "You- you didn't-" Mike started, still out of breath. "Call. Why didn't you- call?" He gasped and Steve looked at him with a weird expression.
"You- What?" Steve questioned, sounding lost.
Mike crossed his arms, "I- you can't just stop!" He gasped out, and Steve's brow furrowed.
"But you don't like it when I do? I annoy you," he tries to point out, and Mike huffs.
"God, of course you annoy me! You track our days more intensly than my mom, and you always make dumb jokes, and I hate that I find them funny! You always call when I'm in the middle of something, and you make it easy to stay on the phone! You are always there like some weird older brother that I never asked for!" Mike shouts and Steve's eyes are wide.
"You don't have to stay around or call, but you do! You do, and you actually care. Like when you call and ask me if I'm okay, it feels like you care, and I don't understand why! I don't get you! I didn't ask you to care about me, but even when you were dating Nancy, you cared! You took Holly and me to get ice cream even though Nancy had to study! You give me and my friends rides everywhere! You care!" Mike throws his hands up in the air.
He glares at the older teen, "You care so much that I stupidly care about you! I care enough to come and check on you because when you didn't call, all I could think was that you were like dead or something," Mike snaps and takes a step back. "But you're obviously fine so-" and he wants to run suddenly. To run from the way Steve's eyes are filled with tears or the stupid words he just told the older teen.
Steve runs a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. "Mike, I stopped because I didn't think you wanted me to. You always acted like I was your least favorite person in the world and I guess I just- I didn't feel like it was fair to force you to put up with me just because I can't handle not knowing if you were okay." Steve said, and it didn't sound like the normal Steve. He sounded tired and nervous. He sounded like someone had finally beaten him
Mike bites his lip and tastes salt like he had been crying. Or maybe he still was. He crosses his arms like he can shield himself from this conversation. "But now you don't care enough to keep calling?"
Steve rubbed his face, a sigh shaking his whole body as he did. "I still care, kid."
Mike scoffs, "You didn't call."
Steve drops his hands to his sides. "Just come inside. It's too late for you to bike home. I'll call your place and leave a message." Steve says, his voice sounding close to tears. Mike is stiff when he lets Steve pull him inside.
They are quiet as Steve guides him towards the kitchen. The kitchen that has music playing softly and smelling like a bake sale. He blinks as he steps into the room and spots cookies cooling on a rack and a pie stilling uncooked on the counter. The top crust is sitting on the counter next to it. There's a smell of something in the oven, and Mike states at all of it in confusion.
"I bake when I can't relax," Steve admits, and Mike glances over at him. "I still care, and I was trying to give you space. I was trying not to crowd you, so I just," and he waves his hand around the mess everywhere. The smear of white on his cheek now makes sense.
Mike hugged himself, "I don't- I don't mind the calls." He whispered, and it got a snort from Steve.
He looked over at Mike, "I kinda got that from your speech."
They stood there in silence for another moment before Steve moved to finish putting his pie together. "I know that we aren't close or anything. But I care, it's not just the Upside Down making me anxious, it's just that-" and Steve went quiet. "I went overboard, I get it. But now I just- I can't stop." He admits, and Mike hates how upset Steve sounds. How guilty he sounds.
"I fall asleep easier knowing that if someone wasn't okay, we'd know because of you. It's like you take all the stress from me just by being around." He says, and Steve's eyes are wide. "Maybe we just do a sound off every night so you don't have to play phone tag all day." He shrugs, and Steve wrinkles his nose.
"I don't really get how to use the walkie. Like Dustin tried to show me, but he got distracted and started talking about radio waves and well..." Steve mimed it going over his head.
Mike snorted to hide how much that terrified him. The thought of something bad happening and Steve not being able to respond. But he pushed it away as Steve looked at him as if waiting for Mike to tease him. "That's fair. We did modify them, so they worked better. It's not as simple as your average walkie. I can show you," he offered, and Steve's face split into a grin.
"Cool, want to help me finish this so I can put it in the fridge until tomorrow? Then you can teach me the ways," Steve says, going all dramatic, proving to Mike he'd been spending too much time with Eddie. Mike groaned but came over only for Steve to shove him to the sink to wash his hands.
Steve showed him what to do, and Mike was glad to have Steve around. Because sure Steve's habit was annoying, and sometimes it interfered with Mike's plans, but it was nice too. Steve was nice. And that was something Mike ever believed would happen. But as Steve joked that Mike should not become a baker, he was nice. Like the way Mike was nice to Holly or how Nancy was nice to him. He was part of the family, annoyingly nice habits and all.
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luveline · 8 months
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could you please write something where maybe bombshell!reader hears one of the team members teasing about how she’s torturing spencer and she kinda backs off with the flirting and maybe it’s his turn to hold her hand and call her cute names because even though he always says he doesn’t mind, maybe he does and he just doesn’t want to tell her
tysm for requesting, 1k
Spencer's hair is brown silk in the sun. You bite your tongue to hold in a compliment rearing to come out, saccharine and completely true. Looking sweet, Spence. 
You love to compliment him and especially while Hotch is out of earshot. He and Derek play pairs against two agents from a different unit, their tennis racquets a shiny FBI navy. You start to speak and bite it back —a memory flashes, a shouting stop sign. 
You'd been teasing Spencer as he left the room, something about his indecisive hair. He's cut it shorter but left his curls without product, and you love it. 
Poor guy, Emily'd murmured, lips set against the rim of her coffee cup. 
What's the matter with him? you asked, perplexed. 
Nothing, just that he spins into a total meltdown every time you guys are within ten feet of each other. He must be exhausted.
She was joking and you know that, but something deep down worries she's right. It's not fair for you to keep winding him up… Especially when Spencer might be going along with you because he isn't sure how to say no. 
What if you're forcing yourself on him? 
You're sitting together on a small blanket in the grass with Anderson and a few of the other less competitive BAU agents. You bring your bottled iced tea to your forehead to cool down, condensation wetting your hot skin. The top of your head feels as though it has the full concentration of the sun beating against it. 
Spencer looks up at your movement. He's been reading a book for pleasure, or so he says, so he isn't going a mile a minute but he's still way faster than the average Joe. "Do you want to go find some shade?" he asks. 
"You look comfortable," you say, putting your iced tea aside.
Which is to say, I don't want you to come with me, it would disrupt you. Spencer nods and turns to the brown leather of his familiar satchel, popping the buckle open to dig around inside. 
"Do you think this would be okay?" he asks, bringing out his baseball cap. 
The fabric is starchy and the brim stiff as you accept it and wedge it over your head. You don't immediately cool, but your heart spins strange loops. "Thank you," you say. Thank you, handsome, gorgeous, baby, all beg to be said. 
Spencer stays looking at you for longer than normal. 
"Do I have something on my face?" you ask, swatting self consciously at your cheeks. 
"Nothing. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Thank you." Another loop. You point at his book, fingertip hitting a creamy page with a small thud. "Is this any good?" 
"I think you'd really like it, it feels like that last book I borrowed from you, and you loved that. They're very similar. I can lend it to you when I'm done." 
"Don't rush it for my sake."
Spencer gives you a private smile. "I won't. Just because you could watch a movie at two times speed doesn't mean you should." 
Your returning smile isn't half as nice. No shared lightness, no bright eyes. You're feeling awkward and unhappy —you really like Spencer. Like, you think you could be happy together for a long long time sort of like. He's charming and sweet and no one is ever as kind to him as he deserves, which is why you're trying to be kind now by putting distance between you.
You'll be brash forever. You can't change that, and Spencer doesn't need the stress of dealing with you, not on top of everything else. 
His smile fades as yours does. Quiet, without fuss, he scoots back on the picnic blanket, putting you knee to knee. The subtle muscle of his arm presses to yours and his hand wraps gently around your wrist as he dips his head down, his cheek touching briefly to your shoulder. 
"I know it's nice, but if the heat is getting to you we should go inside," he says, his fingers sliding across your palm to slot between your own. He squeezes your hand. "Heat stroke isn't obvious at first. Do you feel woozy?"
You stare at your twined fingers. He surprises you again, being this soft with you, and being uncharacteristically forward. Or maybe not uncharacteristic at all; Spencer won't let something like timidity stop him from comforting someone that needs it. 
"Spence," you murmur, closing your eyes, face angled down. 
"What?" 
"I'm sorry if I… If I've been messing you around. But I don't think this is a good idea." 
"What's not a good idea?" 
You can't make yourself say it. Instead, you rub the back of his hand, more for your own comfort than his, your tongue like a useless lump in your mouth. 
"You're sorry? Are you sure you're okay?" Spencer asks, no heed to the people sitting with you as he lets go of your hand to put his arm behind your shoulder like a shield. 
"I don't want to torture you," you say. 
Your friends love that word. You torture Spencer with your flirting and your easy affection. 
Spencer makes a face, eyes squinting and nose wrinkled. "They're just kidding when they say that. Emily, Morgan, they like making fun of me, it's like, sibling bonding or something. They don't say it because there's actually something to feel sorry about." He lowers his voice, bashful but sincere at once, "If you're torturing me, I guess I'm a masochist." 
You laugh without thinking, a breathless, girlish sound you'd regret if you had the wherewithal. "You're a masochist?" you ask. 
He takes the brim of your borrowed hat and pushes it up to unobstruct the view of your eyes. 
"If that's what it takes," he says. A hint of wryness creeps into his otherwise smooth tone. 
Despite his brave talk and his steady eye contact, his face has started to blush. A rosy hue kisses the tops of his cheeks and his nose, a dusting of pink splodges stark against his paleness. The curve of his lips seems extra tantalising now. He's very, very pretty. 
And he doesn't mind stepping in to take the reins when you're unsure of things. 
"We really should sit in the shade for a bit," he says. "Let's get drinks from the gazebo. Yeah?" 
You're halfway through a nod when he kisses your cheek too quickly for you to respond. You follow him to the gazebo without any more reluctance, weaselling your hand back into his, and attempt to pull another kiss from him.
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keyotosprompts · 2 months
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we were somewhere else *ੈ𑁍༘⋆
established relationship dialogue prompts
⇴ "were you thinking about eating that?" "yes... why? wait. you were planning on eating it, weren't you." (and they still end up giving their partner a share of their food)
⇴ "really? we've been together for [x] years and you're still worried about that?"
⇴ "wait–why didn't we hear anything about this?" "you and person b were in your own little happy, coupley, rainbow-sunshine world!"
⇴ "okay, let's put the laptop away. we're going to bed."
⇴ "i feel awful. like literal death." "that's why i told you to always wear a jacket. now you've caught a cold. now let me take care of you, babe."
⇴ "no, i'm not doing that," and they do it anyway.
⇴ "your feet are freezing!" and they jolt when their partner's feet touches them.
⇴ "sometimes i don't know what i would've done if i haven't met you. it's like i need you, because if you're not here, it's like i can't even breathe."
⇴ "honestly, i think if you fell over right now, i'd laugh." "would you help me up?" "i suppose so."
⇴ "you've had me since day one. i know i like to say that you're entranced by me, but i've always been marveled by you."
⇴ "i miss you, will you come back to bed?"
⇴ "why are you trailing your fingers across my face?" "just wanted to admire you. you're really cute, did you know that?"
⇴ "out of everyone in my life, you're my person–the most important one. nothing tops you."
⇴ "did you use the last bit of my shampoo?" "technically, we both used it all–y'know, when we showered together–" (a pillow is thrown)
⇴ "this combined playlist is really mid, and i think i know who ruined it..." "do not slander chopin right now." "it's piano music mixed with rap!"
⇴ "i haven't told you this, but did you know that you inspire me?" "me? are you serious? what have i done to inspire you?" "everything you do for me. all the work you put into your work and your relationships. all those little things: every day, i want to be just like you."
⇴ "you remembered!!" "babe, that's the bare minimum."
⇴ "those could be our kids one day." "what...?" (person b malfunctions bc they've been thinking about kids w/ a for a while)
⇴ "i want a house by the beach. with big windows." "and a good kitchen." "oh of course. way better than ours."
⇴ "so it's going to be like this forever? you and me?" "who else?"
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thefatedthoughtofyou · 6 months
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{ Thank you for the idea @imsodonewiththissite !! It almost got angsty but i controlled myself!!! }
"What in God's name is that?" Dustin’s voice goes almost shrill as he walks behind Steve, looks down at his pumpkin. Eddie's head shoots up from where he's carving his own pumpkin, his legs shot out in front of him, his feet hitting Steve's across from him. Steve flushes, tells Dustin to shut up, and shoves at his legs to get him to move on.
"Alright alright jeez! It's just... I've never seen a pumpkin like that. Did you even try?" Dustin huffs as he settles back into his own carving area between Lucas and Will.
"Yes. I did try. Thank you very much. Henderson." Steve huffs, wipes at his pumpkin, then wipes his hand in the grass to get the bits of guts off. Eddie sits up taller, making a show of trying to see Steve's carving, but not really trying to see, they'd agreed to show each other at the same time.
Steve hadn't really had any idea what to do, so he'd just done something silly. But he could see Will and Dustin’s and theirs were detailed, and spooky. And his just looked... stupid, now. Steve sighed and put the top back on his, waiting for Eddie to finish.
He was staring, he knew he was. He couldn't help it. He loved when Eddie was in full concentration mode, his tongue poking out between his lips, his brows crinkled. Steve would never tell him that. But he could look. No harm in that.
Eddie looked up and met his eyes, smiled brightly, and dusted of his own pumpkin before popping the top back on. He tilted his head, this way and that, a few times and then looked at Steve again.
"Okay. You ready?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the gourd resting under his hands. Steve scrunched his nose.
"I'm having second thoughts." He said quietly, the kids were all yelling, in their own little world, but he still didn't want them to hear.
"Aww. But I'm excited to see it! Especially with the way Dusty Buns reacted." Eddie drooped, his eyes going wide and sad, the way Steve was weak agaisnt. He sighed, his own body drooping.
"Ugh. Fine. On three?" He tilted his head. Eddie nodded.
"On three."
"One."
"Twosie." Eddie wiggled his fingers, Steve rolled his eyes fondly.
"Three!" They both said it together and turned their pumpkins toward each other.
Steve's eyes shot open, Eddie's was... good. Like really good. Everything a spooky jack-o-lantern should be. Creepy eyes, sharp teeth, what looked like a skull nose.
"Holy shit Eds. That's... holy shit. Mine is so shit compared to- why are you making that face? What's happening?" Steve changed directions mid sentence because Eddie's mouth had dropped open as he stared at Steve hideous excuse for a carving.
"Oh my god you hate it." Steve grabbed at his pumpkin, about to turn it back toward him and hide it forever but he froze when a sound started coming out of Eddie's open mouth.
It took a moment to really form, but once it got going, Steve could hear it. Manical giggles were bubbling up out of Eddie's mouth. He slapped his hands over his face to stop them but they just kept coming.
Steve wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. He frowned though, his brows dropping on his head and Eddie immediately shook his head.
"Oh my god he's ADORABLE!" Eddie cackled the words, shoved his own pumpkin genlty aside and crawled toward Steve's, his hands outstreched and grabbing.
"I know it's- wait what?" Steve was so confused.
"Steve I love him. Look at his stupid little face." He'd devolved into baby talk and was scratching at the pumkin like you would a babies chin. Steve felt himself smiling.
"Wait you actually like it?" Dustin guffawed from behind him. Eddie spun around fast, guarding Steve's pumpkin from sight.
"Excuse me?! 'It'? Don't you ever speak like that about my son- our son!" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Steve. Dustin rolled his eyes.
"It's not even scary! It's just a big mouth!" Dustin’s hands flailed. Eddie screamed at him dramatically, clutching his chest.
"He has a tooth! And two adorable teeny tiny eyes!" Eddie moved, pointed at the face Steve had made. El and Will both aw-d, Max and Lucas smiled, Mike just rolled his eyes.
"He's not- it's just-" Dustin stammered a bit.
"What? Dustin. He's what?!" Eddie asked, his hands still clutching at his chest.
"He's ugly! Okay? It's an ugly pumpkin!" Dustin yelled, Steve didn't even have time to feel hurt, because Eddie shrieked again, his voice going impossibly high.
"Dustin Henderson! I can't believe you just called your brother ugly. You heathen!" Eddie practically hissed the last word before he hopped to his feet and bundled Steve's pumpkin into his arms.
"Unbelievable. We don't need them Steve. Let's go." He popped his nose into the air and looked to Steve. He knew he had to look like a deer in headlights, not sure exactly where they were meant to be going.
"Kitchen." Eddie whispered, giving Steve a wink.
"Oh right. Okay yeah." Steve stumbled toward the door, opening it for Eddie as he stomped after him.
"Oh what you're going inside? Just leaving us out here?" Dustin called, Will and El booing him as he kept taunting Steve and Eddie. Eddie spun, looked at Dustin, propped the pumpkin on his hip like a toddler and pointed his finger accusingly.
"Yes. And we are leaving... in a huff!" Eddie's accent sounded slightly French at the end as he spun around again and stomped into the house.
"Slam the door Steven. Show them we mean it." Eddie said with an air finality. Steve grinned, fighting back laughter, and slammed the door. He tugged the blind closed too, for good measure. He turned to find Eddie wiping at the pumpkin with a wet washrag, getting all the little shavings off.
"You didn't have to do that." Steve said, moving to stand next to him. But not too close.
"Do what?" Eddie asked, grabbing the dish towel off the little hook and drying the pumpkin now. Steve sighed, leaned his butt against the counter and looked at the floor.
"Play it up liked you love the pumpkin. To make me feel better about my complete lack of skill." Steve laughed a little, shrugged, and looked up to find Eddie staring at him. He tossed the towel down and took a step forward.
"Oh no. Unfortunately for you, Steven. That was a genuine reaction. I fucking love this thing." He patted at the side of the pumpkin and grinned at Steve. Steve frowned.
"Really? It's not... I mean it's nothing special. Did you see Will's, I swear there was a castle on it." Steve shook his head. Dismissive.
"Oh I saw it. Still like yours more." Eddie said, matter of fact.
"Why?" Steve was still frowning. Eddie sighed, walked over and stood next to Steve, his arm pressed agaisnt him, warm.
"Me and my mom used to buy four pumpkins. Every Halloween. Always four. Two for her. And two for me." Eddie's voice was soft, the way it always was when he talked about his mother. Steve found himself trying not to breathe to loudly, he wanted to hear everything Eddie had to say.
"We'd each do a classic, spooky guy. But the other one. The other one we used to make just... the most ridiculous faces. Or the dumbest ones. Anything cute and silly." He looked at Steve for a moment, a soft smile on his lips at the memory.
"It very quickly became a contest of who could make who laugh the most. Just by carving some silly face." Eddie shook his head and laughed gently.
"I haven't made a funny one since she died. And you turned that pumpkin around and it took me back. To all those stupid pumpkins and how we used to laugh. And I mean really laugh." Eddie's voice was getting tight as he spoke, a little wobbly, and Steve wanted to hug him, wasn't sure if he could.
"She had the best laugh Steve. She'd have loved this." He moved his hand over the pumpkin again, gently stroked down it's side.
"And you."
It was almost too quiet. Steve almost didn't hear it. Wasn't sure he had until he looked up and saw the way Eddie was looking at him. Steve is so sure that it's the same way he'd been looking at Eddie for months now.
"It's the perfect pumpkin Steve. The best one I've seen in years." He's so serious, when he says it. Steve feels like he might cry. Feels a bit reckless, with Eddie looking at him like that. So he leans toward Eddie, his heart fluttering as Eddie smiles, just a barely thing, and leans toward him too.
The kiss is soft, Eddie makes a little sound in the back of his throat when Steve's hand moves to his neck and pulls him closer. They kiss until they're both smiling so much it's just their teeth clicking together and Eddie dissolves into manic giggles again and buries his face in Steve's neck as he holds him close.
"You have a good laugh too Ed's. " Steve sighs, pulling Eddie closer as he hums and nuzzles into his neck, his fingers pressing into Steve's back as he cuddles closer. Steve breathes deeply, his nose buried in Eddie's hair, and feels Eddie smile against the soft skin of his neck.
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( below is an approximation of their pumpkin faces. I fucked up the eddie one's mouth dont looookk at meeeee )
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theminecraftbee · 2 months
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being in true sexyman nostalgia mode today (on account of. IT'S BEEN ONE YEAR BABY.) i think one of the most fascinating things about it is that we will never manage to do that again. like, not in a "we couldn't organize it better" way; there were better ways to do the spreadsheet, we would just turn off comments on posts and anon asks from day one so that we wouldn't then get people accusing us of censorship while we tried and failed to control the tide of things that ended up in the comments and inbox, we'd definitely have a WAY higher non-hermit contingent, both thanks to qsmp and thanks to the sexyman blog and medusa now having MUCH wider reach to other corners of the fandom and the original spread not all rooting at me, etc.
but the reason we couldn't do it again is that i don't know if we could ever replicate the exact circumstances that lead to it blowing up quite to the extent it blew up.
it was while tumblr polls and doing tumblr poll brackets on tumblr itself was still new-ish, and people were still excited about them. the idea of a mcytblr bracket was basically brand new; i won't claim we did it FIRST (because i have no idea if we did and doubt we did), but certainly we did it big first. so there's that; we can never again invent in real time "shit people are sending us threats about fraud lets legalize fraud because its funny, we can't stop it, and that neutralizes that drama as a thing anyone will take seriously", and then in turn accidentally invent a fandom culture of. um. wide-spread voter fraud.
(i don't know if we should apologize for, uh, causing the specific way mcytblr voter frauds. i still think it was better than the alternative at least, especially after seeing how so many other polls crashed and burned after us. there were MANY things we could have done better but i have seen SO MANY ways we could have done things worse since then so i think we came out looking pretty okay.)
but also: february 2023 was a very different time in mcytblr. we were in a hermitcraft dead period, where most of the hermits were either on vacation or playing tcg (which was fun, but didn't end up generating that much fandom activity by that time in february). the former dsmp crew was very much doing Nothing (and in that awkward space when the entire fandom knew dsmp 2 was never happening, but also people were still claiming it would happen, so it was just... busy waiting). qsmp didn't exist yet. there was no ongoing life series and wouldn't be for some time. i think even the dominioners and lifestealers were in a fairly dead zone. there was very little new for people to be excited about, mcyt content-wise.
enter: our poll. our poll which cleo then thinks its funny to call out on twitter. our poll, which was not only new mcyt content for the fandom to interact with (thanks to the fact we KEPT GETTING CC INTERACTIONS???), but participatory.
for about two weeks, we were the mcyt event de jour.
and like. the thing is. now we're in february 2024. mcyt is BOOMING. a new hermitcraft season JUST STARTED. we came off of vault hunters before that. meanwhile, qsmp just restarted and is, if i'm understanding correctly, booming. they just added a new guy! the two current juggernauts of the fandom are in FULL SWING. i honestly think we'd be somewhat overtaken by the fact things are actually happening in fandom. there's stuff to do that ISN'T go insane about a poll.
and it's not new, and we've seen it all before now, and frankly, it's hard to cause a mass hysteria event TWICE. lightning in a bottle, as they say.
i think part of the reason we all just REMEMBER mcytblr sexyman so much is that we could never, ever recreate it, so it remains crystalized in a single moment in time, impossible to replicate, forever memorable.
anyway: HAPPY ONE YEAR TO THE JOE HILLS SWEEP BABY,
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rainyvandragon · 3 months
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Oh those precious memories~
See I could tell myself that it's okay that I'm writing this because I am a catholic woman but let's be real those things just aren't true any more. So instead I am going to claim this as an emotional craving because of that time of the month. Definitely nothing along the lines of 10 year revival of my fanfiction writing phase. And it's totally, in no way related to any issues I might have. Totally sane, I tell you.
! 18+ Minors do not interact, I am NOT a fckn daycare!
Yandere! Hazbin Hotel x GN! Reader
Content warning: obsessive behaviour, stalking, slight NSFW (more in some parts then others), just a bunch of red flags and things that I do not condone irl
Charlie:
Honestly Charlie might be the most sane of the bunch in this regard
She isn't to interested in stealing anything from you, that is just not something she would be comfortable with – in general but especially with her Darling
However she doesn't mind keeping things that you let her borrow
It doesn't even matter what
You gave her a hair tie because one of hers broke? She'll cherish it forever
It was raining on a day she had to go out and you suggested she could use your umbrella? Pretty much hers now
Of course the greatest thing for her would be you lending her some of your clothes
She would most likely spend the next nights cuddling up to it in bed
Oh the frustration when the fabric no longer smells like you but rather her!
Yeah sure, she can give you your things back. She just forgot them in her room, oops! Don't worry she'll get them later
Unless she forgets again...
Vaggie:
She would never take anything you truly need or value
In all seriousness, Vaggie could never stand the idea of inconveniencing her Darling
However unlike Charlie she is just not close enough with you (yet) to count on you giving things to her
So instead she uses the position she has in the Hotel
There was a movie night with everybody invited?
Well somehow ever since the clean up the blanket you were cuddled up in is gone. Oh well, Vaggie will just get a new one, they weren't that expensive to begin with anyway (and if she is fast enough with it nobody is even going to notice anything)
Sadly those lucky occasions that allow her to grab some reminders of your shared time don't come around to often
And Vaggie respects you and herself to much to steal from you or go through your garbage bin
Thankfully she has the patience to wait for those windows of opportunity
And hey, since everything went relatively smoothly this week why not suggest another movie night to Charlie? Everyone involved seemed to enjoy it anyway – so there really is no harm done, right?
Angel:
Anybody who immediately thought of Angel stealing his Darling's underwear needs to take a cold shower!
Now don't get me wrong – he has thought about it
He does have a relatively high drive and desire for intimacy and sex
So sure the idea of taking something rather personal from you did cross his mind
But deep down Anthony just is a little sweetheart and he just couldn't take something like your underwear or other intimate items from you without any sort of consent
As for other, less private things
It doesn't matter if Angel and you have the same of different sizes – he WILL steal your clothes and wear them
If you wear make-up or nail polish he will definitely “borrow” things – especially lipstick
Now if his Darling is somebody who likes to keep a lot of pillows or plushies in bed he is definitely not shy about taking things from that pile either. Although, depending on how well Darling keeps track of those things, he might only borrow them for a night or two – maybe rotating between some, making sure to leave them under the bed upon returning so it looks like it just fell off the mattress
Alastor:
Now Alastor is already rather torn apart when he first noticed his desire for your belongings
He never once though about stealing from you...until you forgot something in the lobby – a book, notebook, pen, whatever it was – it was just lying there on the table next to the couches
Ever the gentleman he obviously wanted to return it to you but something inside of him fought against the very idea of it. This might be the closet he gets to having you (at least for now), his Darling
As his obsession towards you continues to grow some of his past life's interests stir awake inside of him
One day whilst helping out you cut yourself on some damaged bit of furniture. Alastor is immediately there to offer you a handkerchief to stop the bleeding – a handkerchief that quickly becomes one of his most prised possessions
If his Darling has a period he might steal some...used goods
However in comparison to some of the others, he is a lot less hungry for souvenirs
Although that is really just because, unlike them, he can use his shadows to be around you whenever and as close as he pleases
Husk:
Husk would never just go into his Darling's room to steal things from them – even if the idea sounds lovely
No instead he just checks for things you leave behind
Now his job at the hotel really helps him with that
You almost exclusively talk at the bar (“Redemption Based Group Exercises” being the only real exception)
At this point he has a rather large collection of napkins that you used or doodled on
Sometimes they disgust him but then he looks at them, the little doodles (even just to test a pen) you left on some of them, all those marks of you (bonus points for lipstick stained napkins) and he just can't
The guilty feelings are even worse with a tissue you once cried it. It's just to close of a reminder of you to throw away!
Anything small that you forget at or close to the bar gets saved by him – pens, small pieces of paper, hair ties, buttons from your clothes, whatever really. If it's small and unimportant enough for you to not really miss it he is going to keep it
Nifty:
Nifty is easily the worst of them all
She is small, fast, obsession driven and the hotel's maid on top of that
What matters most to her is how close to your body her little mementos are (it's pretty much the same way in wish the catholic church determines the value of a saint's relic)
Nifty will most definitely collect hair out of your brush
Or rummage through your garbage bins
Now if somebody is going to steal used period products!
She just really doesn't value her Darling's privacy in the slightest so she has no issues going through every little crevice of your room to look for some “hidden treasures”
Although her favourite thing to do is sleep in your used bedsheets
She is going to wash them – don't worry! Simply just not without first sleeping in them herself for a bit
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Welp this is the first time in a long while that I've actually written fanfiction so I got those emotions to sort through I guess.
English is not my first language however given how arrogant I can be regarding my skills this should be well enough written. Prove reading was done by Open Office's spell checking system and my high ass.
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lovers-rck · 3 months
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modern au where you accidentally send ellie, your bestfriend, a nude PT3
pt1 here , pt2 here pt4 here
n/a finally.
ellie was lying on her bed. her eyes were closed, her mouth was mumbling the words of the song softly, not wanting to take the spotlight away from the voice that sounded through the record player.
outside, the sun was shining at its brightest, burning the people who dared to walk under its reign.
"uhg i love that song" ellie murmurs as the song ends.
"it's good" you agree. a bead of perspiration ran down the valley of your breasts "it's too hot in here. can you open the window?"
ellie nods and once it's done she throws herself back on the bed hard, bouncing you up and down. she giggles dumbly.
"you can put on your bikini if you want, you left it here the last time we went swimming"
"so that's why i couldn't find it" you can see how ellie smiles slightly "where is it?"
"second drawer on the right"
"got it."
you find your bikini folded neatly in the drawer next to her t-shirts. the bathroom feels a thousand times hotter than the whole house, so you hurry to put on your bikini top and go back out to ellie's room. she's still in the same position, singing songs from an album you don't know.
"we should go swimming again" you say as you walk in, your bare feet against the floor "it was fun"
ellie partially stands up with the help of her arms and watches you, walking around her room in your bikini top and shorts. the photo incident had already been forgotten in your mind, but ellie was still thinking about that moment.
even though she assured you that she had deleted the photo, the truth was that she still had it in her gallery, feeling guilty every time she looked at it.
"sure" ellie said, abandoning her gaze on your body "if you want to drown yourself again"
"i didn't drown" you protested "that wave came in unexpectedly"
you lie down next to her, staring at the ceiling just as she does, separated by inches. ellie's almost-kiss comes to mind, but you dismiss that memory as quickly as you can, trying not to fantasize about something that isn't going to happen.
she's your best friend. just that.
it isn't long before the album comes to an end, burying the room in a deep silence. The air is uncomfortable for ellie, who feels the need to speak up and confess her sin.
"i didn't delete the picture" she says after a few minutes.
you furrow your eyebrows and look at her "what? which picture?"
ellie abandons her gaze to the ceiling and looks at your breasts, and then at you "you know..."
the answer hits you "oh"
"i'm sorry" ellie says "i had to tell you, it doesn't feel right"
you look up at the ceiling again "why didn't you delete it?"
you hear ellie laugh lightly "isn't it obvious?"
you feel your heart in your throat, ready to come out the moment you utter a word.
"it's not obvious to me"
an immense heat takes hold of ellie's body, a heat that is not due to the temperature outside. she feels her cheeks redden and her lips feel extremely dry and suddenly the ceiling looks so interesting that she want to watch it forever.
"well..." in your eyes, ellie doesn't look as confident as usual, more vulnerable "i think i like you."
"you think?"
"okay, okay" ellie snorts "i like you"
"it's just weird" she continues "i mean, it feels weird that you like your best friend, you know? i don't know, i haven't stopped thinking about it since you sent me that picture"
you don't say anything, and ellie takes that as a bad sign.
"i'm sorry" she mumbles, looking at the ceiling and wanting to hit her head "i shouldn't have said that. i would leave if i could but it's my home so...."
"can you kiss me?" you speak and ellie looks at you
"what?"
ellie analyzes your gestures, looking for some indication that what you are telling her is a vile joke that you can both laugh at later, or pretend to laugh at.
"a real kiss this time" you say and ellie smile embarrassed as she remembers "kisses on the corner don't count"
"shut up. I didn't know how you were going to react."
"you didn't even see my reaction! you ran into the living room!"
they both laugh uproariously, although ellie laughs mostly out of embarrassment.
a few seconds pass. fifteen seconds if you ask ellie.
"well, are you going to do it?" you mutter.
ellie stands up and moves closer to you, leaning on one arm to support her weight so she doesn't fall on you. you can feel her confidence return as she provokes your lips by gently brushing hers across them but not making full contact.
"ellie" your voice comes out as a strangled moan.
and she finally kisses you.
the warmth of her lips impacting against yours and sending you into a dreamy spiral. her hands hold you as if you are going to disappear, encircling and touching your skin.
everything about her touch counterbalances her personality. her touch is kind, gentle, soft, and it's ellie's
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kleftiko · 6 months
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❦ FAMILY AFFAIR
"keigo can’t help that the sight of you with kids makes him want to put a baby in you, and you’re so willing to let him"
cw: rut, breeding, marking/biting, possessiveness, unprotected sex, cream pie
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
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It started with your niece and nephew.
When the two of you knocked on the door, only for the five-year-old girl to open it a sliver, scream your name in glee, and immediately start giggling and running around, Keigo already felt it in his stomach.
Then it was the way you sat on the couch, and she crawled into your lap while her older brother started showing you his latest drawings. The way you could so easily switch between talking to the two of them, holding your niece as she started climbing all over your shoulders, had him tuning out his brother-in-law in favour of admiring you with the unknowing feeling again.
The next was the way you handled your nephew when he tried running up the stairs in his clean socks, only to slip and hit his knee. Keigo could only freeze up when he heard the crying, wanting to comfort him but not knowing how. When you bent down to his level and showed him one of the little scars you got when you were younger and fell off your bike, explaining how you also cried when you hurt yourself, he felt his cheeks heat up.
The final straw was when your niece, who carried around her hawks plushy everywhere, whispered in your ear while looking at him with a shy glance. You smiled kindly at her and said, "I don't think so. I'm gonna marry him." And he finally recognized what he was feeling.
He wanted to make you a mom.
The whole way home, he was quiet, and it was a little unnerving. But Keigo couldn't help the thoughts going through his mind. If you had a little girl, would she look as beautiful as her mother? His heart couldn't help but swell at the thought of going home to his two favourite girls and holding them close. If you had a son, he would definitely be a mama's boy, smiling up at you for praise every time he did something. You were just so good with kids that it would be impossible for him not to be.
And then he started thinking about making a baby. He couldn't help the way his cock twitched in his pants when he thought about fucking you raw. You two had never done that before; clean-up was always easier when he had a condom, and it gave the two of you peace of mind with his hectic job, but thinking that he could make a mess of you by filling you up with his cum so that it was dripping out onto the sheets beneath you was something he didn't know he needed in life until that exact moment.
The noises you would make as he fingered his cum back into your sopping pussy, the way you'd waddle around when you're pregnant with his kid, the fact that you'd be forever his when he gives you a child—it all made his brain fuzzy.
So when you softly asked if he was okay when you came home, he couldn't help but grab you and kiss you. He held you tightly, feeling a deadly rush of emotions and gratitude for having you in his life.
And the way you so easily let him slip his tongue into your mouth without question had him whining in need.
"I wanna give you a baby." He mumbled between kisses, pushing you blindly to your shared bedroom.
You uttered a sound in confusion, but it was interrupted by a gasp when he started sucking at your neck.
"Need to make you mine, baby, all mine." He babbled. "need to get you pregnant—need to fill you up."
You whined loudly at that and grabbed the belt of his pants, yanking his body right up against yours and pushing his hard cock into your hips.
"You wanna fuck me raw, baby?" You asked with such a sweet voice that his legs wobbled. "Finally wanna cum inside?"
He nodded his head vigorously, his cloudy eyes filled with desire.
"Yes, please," he whimpered, his voice laced with desperation.
Your hands reached down to grope him. You could feel his arousal growing beneath your touch, and a wicked smile played on your lips.
"Mmm, you're so hard for me," you purred as you teasingly squeezed him. "I can't wait to feel you deep inside me."
His breath hitched as he let out a low moan, completely lost in the moment.
As you pushed him onto the bed, his muscle memory nearly kicked in, and he almost reached to the side table to grab a condom when he remembered what you two wanted. Instead, he grabbed your hips and threw you down beside him, foggy mind barely registering the harsh bounce against the mattress.
With animal-like speed, he pounced on you, strong hands gripping your wrists like iron as they held them above your head. His mouth dipped to the curve between your shoulder and neck, pearly white teeth sinking into the flesh that had you hissing in pain and rubbing your legs together.
"Keigo!" you shouted, completely enraptured with this new feeling.
"Sorry, baby," he muttered half-heartedly, his whispers tickling the edge of your ear before he bit down there too.
You couldn't stop the delightful shivers if you wanted to. Keigo's mouth continued its trek, nipping at all the soft spots along your beautiful skin that had you panting. He only released your wrists when he couldn't take the confinement of his pants anymore; the pathetic whimpers he let out as he clumsily undressed his lower half had you equally rushing your jeans off as well. You didn't have time to take off your shirt when your boyfriend smashed his lips into yours for a heated kiss, his cold tongue immediately swiping across your own in a desperate attempt to taste you. and you didn't bother slowing him down; the rational hero he was by day was long gone, and the man in front of you held no other purpose than to be completely yours. His rough fingers slid under your shirt, one hand groping your tits through your bra and the other sliding between your legs.
He whined into your mouth, barely detaching your lips to mumble, "How are you so wet, baby? want this just as bad as me?"
All you could do was clumsily nod, your boyfriend not letting you leave his touch for more than a moment. It didn't matter, though, because with the way you wrapped your legs around his waist, he could tell you only wanted to be closer.
There was a messy overlap of hands as the two of you feverishly grasped for Keigo's thick, leaking cock and lined it up to your heat. The erratic atmosphere only cooled down for a second when he slipped inside you--you both releasing sighs of euphoria--before your boyfriend when absolutely feral.
His movements became all the more intense and primal, as if all those years of pent-up desire and longing were finally free. He gripped your hip with one hand, the other balanced your leg over his shoulder while you clawed at the soft skin of his arms in an attempt to clear your mind from the pleasure he was giving you. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the rhythmic collision of your bodies, heightening the passion between you both.
"Fuck, baby, you're mine—you're all mine," he panted. "'m gonna make you feel so good. 'm gonna fill you up."
"Gonna give me a baby, Kei?" You responded, just to hear him whimper and see a thin line of tears well up in his closed eyes.
If it was possible, he slammed into you harder, sending your back to arch in ecstasy at the feeling and the sound of your dripping cunt sucking him in.
"Fuck, mama, you'll be so good." He babbled, moving the hand that was digging into your hip to your leg and pushing them both forward.
You gasped breathlessly as your knees hit your chest, but you didn't have time to say anything when your voice broke in a scream at the feeling of keigo hitting you so deeply in this new position.
Your body trembled uncontrollably as the intense pleasure consumed you. Your senses were overwhelmed by everything—the heat of his body against yours, the sound of his pants and the thrusts moving the bed, the smell of both of your arousals dripping from your leaking pussy—it was all too much. Every thrust from Keigo sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your veins, pushing you closer to the edge of bliss. You didn't have any sense left in you to warn him that you were cumming; instead, you let out a strangled gasp as your head rolled back.
Whether or not your boyfriend understood what happened didn't matter, because seconds later he was screaming your name in a daze and releasing his hot cum into your abused pussy.
Then the atmosphere became softer, tired and satisfied pants coming from both of you as he laid his sweating body on top of yours. His hot breath tickled at your neck, his arms wrapped around you, and his now-softening cock stayed stubbornly inside you. It took a few minutes before you could catch your breath and say something, but neither of you minded, not when you lovingly kissed his head and traced the red scratches you left on his biceps.
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vivwritesfics · 7 months
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"He Can't Know"
Y/N Wolff and her father have always had a rocky relationship. Formula One was bringing them together. She's not quite ready to let her relationship with a certain Ferarri driver ruin that
1.4K
Part Two
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"He can't know," Y/N whispered as they met in the dark halls of the hotel. "If he finds out, he'll kill me, you and your entire team," she whispered, pressed up against the wall.
Her back was flush against it, her arms thrown around his neck. They were close enough that there was no space between them. If anybody was to appear now there would be no hiding it.
"We can't hide it forever," he whispered back, leaning down to kiss her.
Y/N pushed him away. "Yes we can. We need to be more careful, too. What if paparazzi is watching the hotel? What if somebody with a camera catches us when they think we're alone and they sell us out to the tabloids?"
Releasing his grip on her waist, Charles pulled away from her and let out a sigh. "You really want to keep me hidden away forever? Are you going to wait until we're married with kids before you tell your dad?"
She let out a sigh and went to say something else, but Charles had already walked away, leaving her standing in the hall.
That was the problem with Y/N Wolff, daughter to one of the biggest names in Formula One (outside of the drivers, of course). She found love and she couldn't express it, unless she wanted her dad to go Darth Toto on said loves ass.
Y/N and her father had never had a very close relationship. He was travelling a lot and Y/N never got to see him. She resented him for never being there. For missing all the school plays, the dance recitals, all of it.
Formula One was the reason Y/N hated him. Formula One was going to be the thing to fix their relationship. As soon as Y/N turned twenty one and she was done with university, she asked her father if she could join him as he travelled the world for the sport he loved.
Toto jumped at the chance. Y/N hadn't been to a grand prix since she was a little girl; he couldn't wait to take her around to experience it all.
Unfortunately for Toto, Y/N seemed to be preoccupied.
And she was. She really was preoccupied. With a driver clad in red and yellow.
Y/N made her way back to her hotel room. She kept her head down and pulled her phone out. With no other options, Y/N texted him. I'm sorry, she texted. I'm sorry and I will tell him, just not yet.
She stayed the messages, watching the three little dots appear for a few seconds, and then disappear right after. She threw her head back as she swiped her keycard against the door and pushed it open.
Charles wasn't happy with her, that much was clear. But what was she to do? Tell her dad and risk him killing both her and Charles? No way. She wasn't ready for that.
***
"Hey dad," said Y/N when she walked into the Mercedes garage. Toto looked at her and gave her a smile, already engrossed in meetings and work. She made her way to the back of the garage and sat alongside George's girlfriend.
He was just a little further down the paddock. He currently wanted nothing to do with her.
Y/N could do it now. She could rip off the bandaid and tell her dad everything. And then watch him rip off Charles' head.
She pulled out her phone to text him. Hey, she sent in one text. Good luck today.
Read but not answered. That was okay; he was a busy guy. Especially on race day.
“Good luck,” Y/N said to both Lewis and George. She reached down to scratch the top of Roscoes head as he came trotting past. It wasn’t long now until the race started. The drivers were doing their last minute prep.
When the race finally began, Y/N was still sat at the back of the Mercedes garage, headset on as she watched the race. When she first came with her dad to watched the Formula One, Y/N had found the races thrilling. Now, as she watched the two Ferrari’s driving around, her heart was racing in her chest and anxiety had her chewing her nails.
The race was over just as fast as it had begun (although not really, it lasted the amount of time it was meant to. For Y/N though, it felt like it was over just as quickly as it had begun). Lewis was on the podium and George just about missed out.
Charles, though, he was on the podium, alongside Max and Lewis. Y/N watched him, clapping her hands as he sprayed the champagne. She wasn’t going to lose him over fear.
After the race she made her way back to the hotel. Her father was letting her stay in the city for a little while, letting her have a little holiday. As she got out of the car and walked across the lobby, Y/N checked her phone.
Meet me in the hall.
Five little words. Five little words that meant so much to her.
Getting into the elevator, Y/N repeatedly pressed the button for the fourth floor. The elevator doors were too slow to close. The elevator was too slow going up. The elevator doors were too slow to open again.
Charles was waiting there, outside of the elevators. His arms were folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall. “Mon amour,” he said as she stepped out of the elevator.
“Are you still mad at me?”
Charles shook his head. “No, I’m not mad. But you need to tell your father at some point. I want to be with you, and I don’t want it to be in secret.”
Letting out a sigh, Y/N fell against him. “I really want to tell him,” she confessed. “I really want to tell my dad but I’m so afraid of what might happen.”
“I’ll protect you,” he whispered and kissed the top of her head. “We can tell him together.”
No, not together. This was something Y/N had to do alone.
***
“Hey dad.”
Once again, Toto was too busy talking to properly acknowledge his daughter. She awkwardly waited beside him, hands shoved into her pockets as she waited for him to stop talking. But Toto kept going. It was understandable; he was a busy guy.
“Hey dad,” she tried again. “Can we talk?”
“One moment,” Toto responded.
Not good enough. “Hey dad. Can we talk? It’s about something important.”
That finally got Toto’s attention. He apologised to those he was speaking to and followed his daughter as she tried to find an empty room.
Once they found one, Y/N closed the door behind her. She leaned against it as her father took a seat. This was maybe one of the hardest things she ever had to do. “I’ve been travelling around with you for all of the season so far, and, a lot of things can happen when… you’re… travelling.”
There was really no delicate way to put it. Toto looked at her expectantly.
“I guess, what I’m trying to say, is that I’ve been seeing someone. And they are in the business of Formula One.”
Toto stood up. His arms were crossed as he walked over to the door. “Which one of them is it?” He asked, pointing at the door. “Which one of them touched you?”
“What? Nobody touched—”
“Who do I have to fire?”
Y/N’s eyes went wide. “What? Nobody. Nobody in Mercedes touched me. I’ve started seeing Charles.”
There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Toto was saying nothing, and that was putting Y/N on edge. “Dad, please.”
But Toto held up his hand, silencing her. “You’ve started seeing Charles Leclerc? The Ferrari driver?”
Y/N nodded her head.
“I’m going to kill him.” He was calm, which, Y/N supposed was good.
But he was smiling. And that was better than Y/N could have asked for. “I know dad.”
“I’m going to kill him right now.”
A/N: Hey guys! So I moved to finish my studies and my roommate is going to watch the f1 with me I'm so happy. Anyways, with my studies resuming, I'm not gonna have as much time to write.
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