#that last post made me think about how like

[euthymiya]

I GIVE YOU MYSELF — AVENTURINE (KAKAVASHA)

contents: female reader, implied sexual activity (but no explicit content), post coital conversations, hints at aventurine’s past, he tells reader his name for the first time, he is implied to return after penacony

aventurine is quiet after sex. which is a stark contrast to his usual self—he’s not quiet a lot of the time. he fills the silence with smooth talk and sweet drawls and overly loaded words to make up for the empty shell underneath. but after sex, he’s quiet. unresponsive, even. you think he’s hardly registering the rake of your nails across his scalp as you play with his hair.

his eyes are closed, fluttered shut as his head lays on your chest. a shame, you think, his eyes are far too beautiful to hide away like that, even for the sake of rest.

you know he doesn’t see them that way—but it’s not like he can be blamed. the world has always seen his eyes as less than what they truly are, and it’s only natural he takes to hiding them. typically, it’s behind those glasses of his, and you mourn the beauty of the ring of blue in his pupils as soon as the lens covers them up.

“cat got your tongue?” you murmur finally, breaking the silence and flicking the middle of his forehead affectionately. he blinks, snapping out of his trance as he peers up at you before throwing that lopsided grin on his face again.

it’s almost too easy—plastering on such a mask.

“well, if you want me to fill the silence i can certainly think of a method or two,” he winks, “just say the word.”

“haven’t you already gotten enough,” you raise an amused eyebrow as he chuckles. “don’t test your luck.”

“i always test my luck, sweetheart,” he grins, “it works doesn’t it?”

you haven’t seen him in weeks. six and a half, to be exact. forty-six days. one thousand, one hundred and fifty hours. he leaves in the morning, the last time you see him—you plant that hat of his on his head yourself as you kiss him goodbye.

i’ll be back soon, he told you.

don’t keep me waiting, you murmured between gentle pecks along his jaw.

his hand had quivered a bit in your grasp before he left, you couldn’t help but think at the time.

but he’s different somehow, now that he’s returned. you’re not sure how or why, but something about him is different. perhaps it’s the way he claimed your lips tonight, far more taking and far more confident than he’s ever allowed himself to be. like he deserves to be able to take (he does) and deserves to have someone give (you’ll always give). his hands are more daring with the way they explore you, mapping along the ridges and curves of your supple skin in ways he never indulged before.

perhaps, if you had to put a label on it, tonight it wasn’t sex. perhaps tonight, it was love you made. not that you’ve never loved him before this—you’ve loved him for quite a while now. but this time, he allows himself to love you. freely, that is.

you still don’t know his name. not properly, anyway. you’re certain he wasn’t introduced to this world as aventurine—but it’s all he’s ever given you, so you adopt the title baby. it’s easier that way, to feel like a real couple. a normal one.

come back safe, baby. how was your day, baby? goodnight, baby. i’ll see you when you come back, baby.

it’s all you know how to say. one day, if you’re patient enough and love him carefully, he might tell you his given name. you hold onto hope for that—but you’ll love him even if he doesn’t.

“and where have you been all these weeks,” you scold lightly. there’s hardly any hurt in your voice, though he can make out the lingering worry. “you left me to wonder if you were dead, baby.”

there it is again—baby. the word could practically be his name at this point, not a title of affection or a testament of your endearment. at this point, it almost feels like that’s who he is. baby. your baby.

something about it feels so wonderfully natural.

he’s silent for a moment before he murmurs, “kakavasha.”

“hm?” you furrow your eyebrows, scrunching them in confusion. “come again?”

“that’s my name,” he says quietly, “i…you can call me kakavasha.”

“kakavasha,” you test the name on your tongue, feeling him tense for a moment before he relaxes as soon as your fingers soothe through in his hair. you smile, grinning ear to ear as you repeat, “kakavasha. what a precious name. you’ve hid it for so long, you devious thing.”

he wrinkles his nose as you poke the tip, earning a giggle from you.

“i had to,” he whispers, nibbling on the tip of your finger.

i’m sorry, he wants to say.

you know bits and pieces of aventurine—kakavasha. those precious little sigonian eyes and that dreadful carving on the skin of his neck hint at enough. he doesn’t tell you, but something’s are easier to leave unsaid, letting the pieces fall slowly into place without the harsh breeze of bitter words. perhaps you’d always known that the man you love was never yours first, that he was always the property of someone else before you, before himself.

but something’s changed. kakavasha comes home different. he gives himself to you, by name and by body, by touch and feel and intimacy in ways he never could before. he gives himself away to you instead of keeping himself locked away.

you’ll keep him safe, you think. for a man who’s never truly had himself to hand you the pieces so easily, so hopefully, you couldn’t bear to let him down.

“kakavasha is beautiful,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks, lifting his head enough to plant a careful kiss to his lips. they quirk into a dazzling smile—not a plastered mask this time, but the real thing.

and a beautiful thing it is, his smile. laced with childlike glee and innocence that the world stripped away all too soon.

“i like baby better,” he says smoothly, “don’t you think it fits more?”

“i think fool fits you best if you really want my opinion,” you tease. (he pouts at that, and you know it’s only for the sake of getting another kiss pressed to his curled lips.)

“i won’t be asking for your opinion again,” he grumbles.

“but baby,” you drawl, scattering pecks along his cheeks and forehead, “don’t be like that. i was only teasing.”

he taps his cheek expectantly, waiting for another kiss, and of course, you oblige through a fit of delighted giggles. who are you to deny him, after all? after he’s been denied of so much already.

“i’ll stay this time,” he murmurs after some time (when he’s thoroughly satisfied demanding your unwavering affections), laying against your chest once more, “i won’t have to leave anymore.”

they won’t make me go.

“good,” you whisper, fingers tracing shapes into his bare back, suspiciously close to letters that spell kakavasha along his skin. he shivers under your touch, leaning impossibly closer. “you’re all mine now, then.”

“all yours,” he confirms. and finally, he can mean it.

i am so excited for his banner you guys don’t even know. if i don’t get him i’m going to eat a rattlesnake

#writing tag #aventurine x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #kakavasha x reader #aventurine x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #kakavasha x you #aventurine fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #kakavasha fluff

[alexias-putellas]

centre of attention // a.bonmatí x reader

a.bonmatí x reader

based on this request! wanted to get something out for you guys so voila. not proofread as per usual

-

despite being named as one of the greatest of your generation, you were incredibly humble. you always credited others before yourself, always mentioning the person who gave the assist whenever asked about a goal you scored in post match interviews.

most people assumed it was because of how genuinely nice of a person you were and how much you adored your teammates, which was true, but really it was because you absolutely loathed being the centre of attention and this fact was known by your club and country teammates—who made it their mission to tease you about it to no end.

your girlfriend however never took part in it so you were thankful that you had at least one person on your side. of course she poked a little bit of fun at your shyness but aitana knew when to stop.

so when you walked up to take a corner during a game, booted it with all your might and accidentally curled it straight into the top corner securing your hattrick, you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up.

but that couldn’t happen so you plastered a smile onto your face and approached your celebrating teammates. their grins almost made you scowl and you took their congratulatory comments in jest, knowing that they were holding back until after the game.

“buen trabajo.” aitana whispered to you and the smile that grew on your face was a genuine one.

“gracias, my love.”

barcelona won the game and since you were subbed off not long after the corner, you were wrapped up in a big puffer jacket as you made your way back onto the pitch. you headed straight for your girlfriend, throwing your arms around her.

“here she is!” lucy shouted before her arms were around your waist and she lifted you up. “little miss hattrick!”

“oh my god! lucia roberta, put me down now!” you hissed loudly, your face growing warmer with every laughing teammate you passed.

as soon as your feet touched the ground again, you shot straight over to aitana, tucking yourself into her side whilst glaring at lucy.

“i think you are wanted over there cariño.” aitana pointed over her shoulder and you groaned.

“oh, aita, no! don’t make me go over there.”

your girlfriend giggled before gently pushing you in the direction of the interviewer. you greeted her politely and took the outstretched microphone.

“what a game that was!” she said and you nodded in agreement. “barcelona have been unstoppable this season, it’s incredible.”

“i know. the girls have been amazing, it’s such an honour to play alongside them all. we’re having so much at the moment with each other and with the fans and we can’t wait to get more results like this for them.”

“before we do anything else, we have to talk about the hattrick, right? we have to.”

you felt your face heat up and smiled shyly. “i don’t think we have to–“

“of course we do!” the interviewer laughed as you scrunched up your nose. “oh we have another guest!”

you made a noise of confusion before looking over your shoulder, beaming at an approaching aitana. she smiled and stood next to you, holding something out.

“for you,” she said and you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at her hands. “player of the match!”

you rolled your eyes fondly but took it from her hands, feeling the heat on your face worsen. the far sound of your teammates cheering had you hiding in the collar of your coat and the interviewer was laughing again. “well deserved if you ask me.”

“exactly,” aitana agreed, throwing her arm over your shoulder. “nobody else scored a hattrick, did they? and did you see that last goal? asombrosa, tan asombrosa.”

you didn’t think it was possible for your face to get any hotter than it already was as aitana praised you. taking a peek, you scowled as she grinned at you.

“and she had two assists,” your girlfriend continued and you silently prayed for the ground to swallow you up. “two assists, three goals, and she was all over the pitch. we can talk about that corner goal again if you want.”

you shook your head frantically as aitana laughed, feeling utterly grateful when the interviewer spoke up again. “well it was lovely to speak with you ladies. congratulations on a great win and we’ll let you celebrate now.”

“gracias, gracias,” you spluttered out, waving quickly before shooting out of the cameras view. aitana was quick to follow after saying her own goodbye and you were quick to shove her away. “i should kill you with this aita!”

“but you won’t amor.”

“i should,” you muttered, glaring at her halfheartedly. “but you’re right. i won’t.”

aitana smiled and wrapped her arm around you again, pulling you into her side. “you know you are really cute when you are shy.”

“cállate or i really will kill you with this.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #aitana bonmatí #aitana bonmati imagine #aitana bonmati x reader

[venusacrossthestars]

putt-putt

pairing- Lando Norris x fem!reader

wc- 1.3k

summary- You and Lando are too competitive for you own good, so what is a better date idea than a round of putt-putt

a/n: this is a little b-day gift for my bestest friend @arieslost I LOVE YOU BESTIE.

f1 masterlist

“Babe, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

If someone walked in and saw the look on Lando’s face they would assume that you just kicked the poor man’s dog. But the truth to Lando’s sad expression- your insistence that a mini-golf date was not at all a great idea that Lando chalked it up to be. 

Lando stares up at you from where his head rest on your lap, his lips pouted out, “Why not?” 

“Are you seriously asking me that? Do you remember the last time we went? Or the time we played Mario Kart, Uno, Monopoly. Do you remember anytime we played something that had us competing against each other.” Lando continues to stare at you, as if he has no idea what you are talking about. 

“Lando! Seriously?! We each get pissy at each other. We are both too competitive for our own good.” 

Lando shoots up from were he was laying, startling you. He reaches across you to where his phone lays on the side table, “But babe, you haven’t even seen how cool this place is!” He shoves his now unlocked phone in your face, “See!” 

You move back and take Lando’s phone from his hand. You see that he already has their Instagram paged pulled up. You scroll through a couple of their post. 18 holes, Atlantis themed, has an aquarium, good photo opportunities. 

“It is nice,” you agree. 

“Babe. Please.” 

Your resolve crumbles in a matter of seconds, “Fine, but I have 2 conditions,” you watch Lando’s face fall, “1- You will not, and I mean, NOT, do that spiderman-whatever-it-is pose on the course and 2- If an argument or anythings breaks out and we get pissy at each other I get to say I told you so.” 

“Deal!”

The first ‘disagreement’ of the day occurred not even 2 holes into the course. Lando claimed that you had purposely aimed for his ugly neon green ball. 

“You did that on purpose!” 

You stand there with a bewildered look on your face, “Are you kidding me? Your ball is right in the middle of the damn way. Of course I’m going to hit it!” 

This is exactly why you couldn’t stand playing against Lando. When the two of you played together against other people, you guys were a powerhouse, unstoppable. Putting the two of you against one another, well the results were what you were dealing with now. 

“Lando I swear to God I will leave you here and you can walk home. Remember our ‘deal’? Because I do.”  You wave your golf club at him in a warning manner. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry baby.” 

You sigh out, you could never stay made at Lando when he gave you that puppy dog eyes look, “It’s fine, let’s just try and have a good time.” 

The two of you move through the course, you’re keeping score with a baby pencil on the little piece of paper one of the workers gave you when you picked out your balls, not trusting Lando to put down the correct score. 

“Awww. Babe, look your favorite food,” You point to the fish in aquarium that lines the next hole. 

You hear Lando make a noise and a pinch in your side. “That one looks like you,” Lando tells you as he points to the ugliest fish in the tank. 

You ram you elbow back, hitting him right in the stomach, “You ass. Keep it up and you’ll be sleeping with them.” 

“Come on, we got like, 7 holes left.” Lando grabs you hand and drags you away to the next hole. 

Lando drops his ball on the green, lines up his shot and swings. You watch as the ball bounces off the barrier and rolls right into the hole. “Hole in one babyyyyyy!” He exclaims, club raised over his head. “I’d like to see you do that.” 

“Bet.” Is all you say as Lando walks over to hole to retrieve his ball. He moves off to the side and watches as you line up your shot, a smirk resting on his face. 

You swing, and your ball does the same thing that Lando’s did, resulting in you own hole in one. 

“Hole in one babyyyyyy!” You mimic his early reaction. You do his same winning motion and you watch his smirk fall with a smirk of your own. 

The two of you aren’t the only people in here, there is a family a four ahead of you and another couple behind you. As Lando and you are walking to the next hole you can’t help but glance back at the couple, who, unlike you and Lando, are being all lovey dovey. The boyfriend is helping the girl with her swing, standing behind her, holding her hands as they swing the club together. 

You nudge Lando, “See we could be like them,” you point to the couple, “instead we’re two competitive a-holes.” 

Lando shrugs. “I like your competitiveness, gives me my money worth.” 

“Well be sure to keep that mentality after I beat your ass.” 

“We still have 3 more holes,” Lando points out. 

“Yeah, but with how bad you’re doing, I think I got this in the bag.” 

“Don’t count all your eggs before they hatch.” 

“Chickens, babe. Chickens. It’s- don’t count all your chickens before they hatch.” 

“Wait, then what’s the egg one?” 

“Don’t put all your eggs in one basket?” You say unclear to which one he is referring to.

“That’s it!” 

You roll your eyes, “You’re lucky your handsome.” 

“What?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you pat him on the shoulder and start walking to the next hole. 

“No, what did you mean by that?” Lando calls out from behind you and all you can do is giggle. 

It’s the last hole and maybe Lando was right, you shouldn’t have counted all your chickens before they hatched. Because the past two holes Lando has managed to get two holes in one, you on the other hand were plundering. 

“So, we’re tied right now. This is the last hole, therefore, the tie-breaker.” 

“Do you want to go first?” 

“I guess.” Honestly no, you didn’t want to go first. You rather watch how Lando does first, then try to replicate whatever he did, your strategy you’ve been using the entire game. 

You line up your shot and swing. A very underwhelming delivery on your end. Lando goes and has the same result. Second swing same thing, ultimately closer to the hole before. Lando swings and his ball is just a little behind yours. Third swing, and PLUNK, right into the hole. You hold in your celebration, Lando could still tie. Lando goes for his turn, and he puts to much force in his swing, his ball goes in and right back out of the hole. It’s on his fourth try that his ball makes it in. 

“YES! I WON!” Your shout draws the attention of the couple behind you, you give them an apologetic look. You turn your attention to Lando, who is looking at you with nothing but adoration. 

“Well done,” Lando gives you a little golf clap and you take a bow. 

“I guess I don’t get to tell you I told you so.” You say as the two of you walk in the parking lot hand-in-hand. 

“Wow, we actually had a nice outing and that’s all you can say,” 

You stop and jerk Lando’s hand towards you, “I had a fun time, even if we did get a little competitive.” 

Lando’s hands move to you waist and pull you into a hug, “I had a fun time too, even though I lost.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser.” 

He wouldn’t say anything today, but maybe sometime in the future he would tell you that he purposely swung a little too hard on his third turn so that his ball would bounce out of the hole. But for now he could live with the little white lie, as long as it made you happy.

permanent taglist- click here to join

@arieslost @customsbyjcg-blog @gr1mes-cc @styl1shl1v @tpwkstiles @hiireadstuff @landoscardotcom @poppyflower-22 @blancastans @katiezdiarysblog @mrsstylez @jamieeboulos @peanutaj @hwalllllllelujah @purple9950 @chaoticpenguindetective @crazymofo-96 @harriesnuggets @georgerussellsgridgirl @luckyladycreator2 @llando4norris @slaygirlbossworld

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #ln4 fluff #ln4

[suntails]

I’m going to paint you a picture of modern communication, and how it is fundamentally broken.

Let’s look at one friend. You chat pretty much everyday, and mostly talk to this person on twitter and discord, with occasional tumblr DMs. That’s three places you talk. But that’s actually not true, because you also have each other’s priv twitters and talk there as well. That’s four. Now account for, let’s say, one post reply per account per person, in addition to your DMs. That’s eight. But that’s ALSO not true, because not only do you talk in discord DMs with each other, but you’re in a friend group server as well! And you talk in those channels together! That’s nine.

This is one friend.

Now look around you. How many friends, how many mutuals are you in contact with. A few, a handful, a dozen, more? How many accounts per person do you have, how many places can you send each other posts, devolve into separate topics and conversations? How many people text you as well. Friends, family, coworkers? What do you do day to day around catching up, what IRL commitments will rip you away long enough to let the pile build again?

I can’t do it. I cannot live an actual life in the real world and balance this much interaction, it’s crushing. I reply to a friend’s post because I’m interested in the subject, I want to have a discussion! I WANT to talk about it with them, but I immediately kick myself for adding another conversation to the pile. Day by day, I ignore messages for hours on end and watch mountains pile around me, to reply en masse at the end of the night to let the cycle repeat. I wake up to six discord DMs and as I clear the third, the first replies back again.

We weren’t meant to have thirty simultaneous conversations. We weren’t. And you know in your bones that the number isn’t an exaggeration.

#hush catríona #this is essentially copy pasted from my twt last week but made a touch more coherent #iiiii spiral about this pretty regularly. i think this is the 4th or 5th time ive gone on this spiel bc its agonizing #i feel horrific guilt for ignoring messages for so long. and its absolutely voluntary. but i cant FUNCTION like this i cant DO it #i have friends where we talk Every Single Day and i LOVE them so much. so unfathomably much. but it KILLS me #hell take my roomie for example. one of my fav ppl in the world. we text- twit dm- discord dm- ig dm- reply to posts. thats five right? #i guess!!! but we also LIVE TOGETHER. i see them in real life and talk to them out loud with my voice and its still this much to add on!!!! #and i feel like nobody else talks abt this shit and it makes me feel crazy. am i the only person completely debilitated by this??? #i dont want this to come across as like ‘boohoo we get it ur sooo popular’ that is NOT what this post means #i think a lot of ppl big acct or small. fandom or otherwise. talk to a dozen ppl online. and i dont get how anyone copes #this is agony. and every single time i ever make a post? its another opportunity to add to the pile #i only reply to comments on posts on twt and this is why. i cant DO it i cant keep up. i see every tag and im so grateful but i cant ever #reach out. i cant add to the pile. theyre already taller than me

[rhaenella]

LN4 | Challenge Accepted

pairing: lando norris x non-driver!reader

genre: one shot ✿

summary: it’s been five years since the last chinese gp, so when you and lando are set up to race each other on the shanghai circuit on mclaren’s state of the art simulator, anything is possible…

word count: 5.6k

masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The sound of feet tapping restlessly against the floor, alternated by the squeaking of a swivel chair spinning round, echoed through the large hall at McLaren HQ. With a sigh, you refreshed your social media—again—but there were no new posts of any kind to keep you occupied. You’d already gone through all of them.

Your boyfriend and F1 driver, Lando Norris, was somewhere in the massive building, filming interviews, challenges and whatnot for the McLaren social media platforms. He had asked if you'd come with him today, mostly because you already saw so little of each other due to his busy schedule. Not that you saw much of each other right now, but at least there wasn’t an ocean between you like there usually was. 

Besides, he’d promised he would wrap up as quickly as he could, and take you out for dinner. So. The wait was worth it. Even though you were bored out of your mind for the foreseeable future.

After walking up and down the hall’s boulevard four times over, admiring all of the beautiful, historical cars on display, you had checked out the trophy wall, which was just as impressive. But since you weren’t allowed access anywhere else inside the building, at least not without a chaperone, there wasn’t much else for you to do or see. That’s how you found yourself in your current situation, spinning around in a chair like an impatient five-year-old, the line of racing cars and the lake outside whooshing by. 

“Y/N?”

The chair came to an abrupt stop. “Yea–yes?” you squinted at the blurry figure in front of you. 

Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to spin around so many times that your vestibular system now made it feel like you were on a ship battling a terrible storm. Luckily, once your vision cleared, you recognised the person instantly. It was Lando’s performance engineer, Andrew Jarvis. You’d seen him around race tracks a few times—he was always very friendly and kind to you.

“Jarv! Hi, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. What about yourself?”

“Oh, good, good… Enjoying the scenery,” you sneered, waving a hand.

“Right,” he drawled, looking you up and down with an amused smile. “Bored?”

“Yes,” you groaned, sinking a little deeper into the chair. “So. Fucking. Bored.”

Jarv chuckled. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m afraid Lando is still tied up. I think he and Oscar are filming some kind of… song challenge? I don’t know,” he shrugged with another laugh. “It’s not exactly my area of expertise.”

Your lips quirked up. “Imagine if it was. You could start hiding strategy calls in songs and sing them over the board radio.”

He wavered. “That would be…”

“Genius?”

“Eh, well,” he faltered, his mouth twitching all the same. 

“Right. Maybe not,” you laughed. 

Although, privately you thought it would be a hilarious idea. With a tinge of brilliance, perhaps. But the pinnacle of motorsport would probably be a little too serious to see it your way. 

“I’m obviously not an engineer, or a strategist, or a driver. So, I guess I’ll just stay here,” you sighed, patting the armrests of your new friend, the swivel chair. “And try to excel in exercising patience instead.”

Jarv nodded, his brows furrowing. “Maybe you don’t have to…” 

You eyed him with a suspicious look. “What do you mean?”

He checked his watch and glanced around before looking back to you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I have an idea. Come with me.”

Jarv had already turned on his heel before you could object, expecting you to blindly follow him to wherever it was he intended to take you. Which you did… without too much thought. Let’s just say boredom got the best of you. Choosing between sitting another god knows how many hours in that chair, or doing something—anything—the choice wasn’t hard. So, you leaped from your seat, sprinting to catch up with him. 

“Wait!” 

He slowed down, and you fell into step beside him. “What’s your idea? Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

You neared the large double doors at the rear of the boulevard. Jarv pressed his right thumb on a small, glass box on the wall next to them, waiting for his fingerprint to be authorised. The system scanned his print, and the light tinged green. “Welcome, Mr. Jarvis,” a female voice said as the doors automatically opened in front of you.

“Nice.”

Jarv grinned, gesturing for you to precede him into the restricted wing of McLaren HQ. The part that the general public never got to see. You gazed around in amazement. You knew it was a large building, but it was more like a maze back here, and you quickly lost all sense of direction.

“I should probably text Lando, he’s gonna wonder where I’ve disappeared to.”

“Don’t worry, Lando is heading where we’re going, too.”

You relaxed a little at that, however your curiosity didn’t subside as you trailed after Jarv throughout the many long corridors. Where the hell were you going?

The behind the scenes looked arguably even more impressive than all the trophies and race-winning cars that were being flaunted in the entrance hall. You passed countless offices, labs, and workshops where employees were working on top-secret updates for the MCL38, or perhaps even next year’s car. And although Jarv kept up a good pace, you were still able to sneak a few glimpses here and there, thanks to all the glass walls. Most of the technology looked so futuristic, you felt like you had accidentally stepped onto the set of a sci-fi film.

Jarv made a sharp right turn down another hallway. This one only had one door at the end, and it wasn’t made out of glass like the rest of them, which prevented you from being able to see what was behind it. 

You read the sign next to the door, which only added to the mystery. 

Strictly No Admittance. Authorised Personnel Only.

“This is it,” Jarv said, retrieving a key to unlock the door, opening it wide. 

Well, there was your authorisation.

You stepped into the mysterious, dimly lit room, your eyes gradually widening with awe. 

The room was roughly twelve by twelve metres, and in the centre stood two professionally altered Formula 1 cars, both with their own 180-degree widescreens set up in a semicircle around them. The back wall was lined with large computer screens, a row of chairs stationed in front of them, which gave you the feeling you were looking at a small-scale pitwall. 

Holy… beep.

Speaking of futuristic tech, this was way up there.

“Welcome to the McLaren simulation room.”

You whirled around to face Jarv, beaming. “This is incredible. I’ve never seen a sim like this before.”

It was true. Sure, Lando had his own simulator at home in Monaco. But it was nothing compared to this piece of craftsmanship.

Jarv hummed, smiling as he walked to the faux-pitwall. “So. You ready to try it out?”

You blinked. “Ready to–wait a minute… what?”

You stared at Jarv as he turned on the computers, pressing buttons here and there that made the right car hum to life. Next, the widescreen around the car powered up as well, causing a wave of light to brighten the otherwise dark room.

“Jarv?”

He opened a cabinet, retrieving a steering wheel before he walked to the simulator. “Come on, don’t tell me you don’t want to.”

“That’s not it,” you trailed off. 

“Good,” he said, turning around, looking at you expectantly. “So get in, then.”

“But… what about Lando? You said he was on his way over here. Don’t they need the room?”

“They will be here to film something in,” Jarv checked his watch again. “In a little over an hour. Until then, the room is empty, and we can use it. I presume you’ve driven a simulator before?”

“Yeah, I have… but don’t I need some kind of special clearance to use one of these?” One of these super expensive, highly accurate simulators that are solely used to train drivers and prepare the real cars and their setups for race weekends. Whatever could go wrong?

“Y/N, don’t worry about it. I’m Lando’s performance engineer. I’m one of the few that gets to decide who uses the sim.”

You shifted your weight, still unsure. “I’m not gonna be any good at it.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have fun, or would you rather return to the waiting area?”

“No.”

Jarv’s smile widened, and he gestured to the sim, inviting you to take a seat.

You hesitantly walked up to the car, twisting your rings, a nervous habit of yours. You’d tried the simulator at Lando’s before, and like you’d already pointed out to Jarv, you weren’t any good at it. Lando had tried to talk you through it, telling you where to break and lift, but it was painfully clear you weren’t cut out to be a driver. 

And now you had to drive in McLaren’s state of the art simulator, under the watchful eye of Lando’s performance engineer. The pressure was real. You didn’t want to make a complete fool out of yourself.

After you’d managed to, somewhat awkwardly, settle yourself in the sim’s seat, Jarv locked the steering wheel into place. It was familiar to you as it looked exactly like the one on Lando’s car, just like everything else on this sim. Except that it didn’t have a front or back wing, or any tyres.

“Alright, before you start driving, it’s important to know the ins and outs of the track you’re racing at. Which in this case will be Shanghai, the location of next weekend’s race,” Jarv said, pressing a few buttons. 

The layout of the track popped up on the screen in front of you, with a sea of information and data appearing on the sides. 

“Don’t worry about the data. We’ll stick to the basics that are of importance to you as a driver. Ready?”

You nodded.

“Good. So, the Shanghai International Circuit has sixteen corners, two DRS-zones on the main straights; one in sector three, and the other on start-finish…”

***

“I don’t know, I feel like maybe I should pursue a musical career,” Lando joked as he and Oscar followed Marion, the head of McLaren’s PR team, down the building’s corridors. 

They had just finished filming another challenge for YouTube. Or Instagram. Or both. Lando didn’t really care about the specifics. It was just another part of his job. Something he’d rather be done with soon, so he could go back to his girl.

Oscar snorted. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll be a Grammy-nominated artist in no time.”

Lando grinned, agreeing with a nod. 

“Alright, lads. One more, and then you’re free to go,” Marion called over her shoulder. 

It was absolute music to Lando’s ears.

“What is it that we have to do?” Oscar asked.

“You’ll be racing each other on the sim, just for a couple of laps, around the Shanghai circuit.”

“I thought we were gonna train on the sim in the morning,” Lando said.

Marion nodded. “You will. This is only a short challenge for a video ahead of the Chinese Grand Prix. Because we haven’t raced there in so long, we thought it’d be fun to film your initial reaction to the track driving the MCL38.”

He and Oscar shared a look. They were always down for a race. There was no question about it.

The click-clacking of Marion’s heels bounced around the hallway as the group made their way to the simulation room. When they arrived, Will, Lando’s race engineer, and a camera and sound crew were waiting for them by the door.

“Why are you all out here? You should be setting up the cameras,” Marion scolded, looking at the men expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

But the men ignored her, instead they all looked to Lando, grinning. He frowned, not at all understanding the meaning behind the knowing looks they were sending him. What was up with them?

“Someone beat us to the sim, I’m afraid,” Will explained, his eyes still on Lando.

Marion turned to Lando as well, equally confused. “What does that mean?”

Lando met her eye and shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

As if on cue, a high pitched scream came from the simulation room, followed by a distinct, “That’s more like it!”

Will and the crew chuckled, but Marion wasn’t having it. “What on earth is going on,” she bristled, pushing past them to enter the room.

Lando followed her, but he couldn’t have been less prepared for the scene they stumbled upon next. 

Occupying one of the simulators was his girlfriend, and right next to you stood Jarv, who was closely monitoring your driving, giving you short and precise instructions. You were going down the straight at full throttle, following Jarv’s pointers as you breaked and hit the curb perfectly for a smooth exit.

What the hell? 

He’d thought you were still waiting for him in the entrance hall on the other side of the building. Never in a million years had he expected to find you here, racing on McLaren’s simulator, looking like you actually knew what you were doing no less. 

So that’s why all the guys had been smirking at him…

“What do we have here?”

You jumped at Lando’s voice, immediately causing the car to spin and crash during your momentary lapse of concentration. 

“Fuck! I was on a flying lap…”

“And a bloody good one at that,” Jarv added, proud.

Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “You were what?” His eyes flicked from you to Jarv, to you, and then back to Jarv. “Mate?”

Before Jarv could utter a word, you turned to face your boyfriend with a wide smile. “Baby, guess what?! I’m not a complete loser at this!”

“I–I’m so proud of you… but,” Lando shook his head, still not understanding any of this. “Why are you two in here?”

You grabbed onto the halo and pulled yourself out of the car to face him. “Jarv came to see how I was doing, and since I had nothing better to do, he suggested I’d give this a try,” you explained, gesturing to the sim.

“Oh, I see,” Lando smiled. 

Yet he struggled to swallow the bitter taste at seeing you spending time and having fun with Jarv. All the while he had been stuck ‘working’. Not that he blamed you for it. He was the one who left you all by yourself for so long. But still… 

“Uhm, but now that you’re all here,” you said, a bit sheepish, your eyes scanning the gathering crowd. “I’ll uhm, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Very well,” Marion called, but she was quickly interrupted.

“No, no, no, no. Wait a second. I need to know something first,” Will spoke, stepping forward. “Jarv, we need your professional assessment, man. How did she do?”

Marion sighed, tapping her phone to check the time, which only made her look more impatient. Lando ignored her, his eyes sliding from you to his performance engineer, curious as well. 

“Y/N did great. She struggled a little at first, but the more laps she did, the better she got,” Jarv beamed. He turned to face Lando. “You know, I reckon she’d even have a good chance at beating you.”

Lando studied him. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m being serious, mate. I’d wager good money on it.”

Marion’s annoyance evaporated within an instant, her eyes lighting up. “Oh gosh, that is a perfect idea, Jarvis.”

“What is? Gambling?” 

“No,” she huffed. “I mean, instead of Lando against Oscar, we can have these two lovebirds race each other on the sim instead!”

“What?” you and Lando cried in unison.

Everyone looked at you, and your cheeks tinged a soft pink. You weren’t used to all the attention, usually preferring to keep a lower profile. Well, as much as that was possible dating a Formula 1 driver.

“Guys, I’m flattered. Truly, I am. But I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I know you’re all here to do a job, and that job doesn’t include me…”

“That’s right,” Lando agreed. He shot you a brief smile before addressing Marion. “Besides, she doesn’t like to be the centre of attention, and I don’t want her to embarrass herself in front of the eyes of millions.”

Something stirred inside you. “What does that mean? You don’t think I can beat you?”

“Well, sweetheart…”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mumbled, your eyes narrowing. 

Under other circumstances, you would have agreed with him. But this last hour and a half with Jarv had boosted your confidence. It had gone really well, exceeding both of your expectations on your sim racing capabilities by miles. And maybe, some part of you, just wanted to show him that.

Like Lando, you never shied away from competition. Not if you had a chance at winning. You weren’t a hundred percent sure if you did right now. But you couldn’t deny you weren’t more than a little curious to find out. And seeing as Lando had just called you out in front of everyone, the only logical thing to do was rise to the challenge.

“You know what? I’m in.”

With that, you climbed back into the snug seat, forcing the thought of having everyone’s eyes on you to the back of your mind. 

Lando’s eyes widened. “What?” 

“Wonderful,” Marion exclaimed. “Let’s roll, people.”

Lando watched as everybody around him immediately jumped into action, including the camera and sound guys who got ready to put it all on film. Jarv grinned and grabbed his tablet, giving a slight nod to Will, who nodded in return and went to start up the second simulator and retrieve a steering wheel for Lando.

“I’ll be assisting Y/N, and just like with a normal race, Will can be Lando’s engineer,” Jarv said.

“Yep,” Will said, holding up the steering wheel as he walked to the other sim. “We’re good to go.”

“We are too!” one of the crewmen announced.

Marion smiled, but it faded when she noticed Lando still standing by the door, not having moved an inch. “What are you waiting for? Get in the car,” she said.

She started pushing Lando in the direction of the other sim, but he stood his ground. 

“Hold on. We can’t do this.”

“What? Why not?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Lando sighed. “You know why.” 

Did they? Did he? 

Lando loved to race, and he certainly loved you. So what was stopping him from combining the two? 

He wasn’t scared of losing—he never has been, and never would. Not that there was any real chance that you, an inexperienced ‘driver’, could beat him today. There was simply no way. 

He’d seen you try the sim at his house, and despite his best efforts, you were, for lack of a better term, absolute rubbish. But then again, Jarv had seemed so sure of himself. That man didn’t lie or exaggerate. He would give it to you straight if you underperformed or weren’t any good. Lando had always admired and respected that. 

So, had Jarv been able to unearth some sort of racing talent that was buried deep inside of you? Something that Lando himself hadn’t managed to uncover…

Was that why he hesitated going up against you? His sense of pride?

Lando groaned internally. If anything, that should make him that much more adamant to race you.

He looked over to see you were already staring at him, ambition burning bright in your eyes. Ambition to beat him. At the thing he did best… It was alluring, and Lando felt his own competitiveness flare. 

“No, we don’t. Honestly, what’s stopping you?”

“It’s only five laps. It’ll be a piece of cake for you, Norris.”

“Unless that’s the problem,” Jarv joked. “Maybe he needs to warm up and familiarise himself with the track first…”

“I think all of you are forgetting that I’m the only one here who actually raced in Shanghai,” Lando shot back, unconsciously taking a step towards the sim.

“And how did that work out for you, mate?” Oscar chimed in.

Lando glared at him and Oscar struggled to contain his laughter. 

“Even better,” you exclaimed, reclaiming your boyfriend’s attention. “You have on track experience and I’ve had a little time to prepare with Jarv. That’s fair enough, right?”

“Y/N… are you sure you want to…” 

He was so close to giving in. He knew it, you knew it, probably everyone did. Besides, you had one more trick up your sleeve. One that would surely make his competitive side overshadow any lingering doubts, and get him to race you in that other sim.

“When have you ever walked away from a race? Hm? Unless you’re scared you’ll lose…”

That struck the intended chord. 

Oh, she didn’t, Lando thought. 

You gave him your most innocent looking smile, but he knew damn well what you were doing. He shook himself. Fine. If you wanted to race him so badly, he would give it to you. And no way in hell would he still consider going easy on you.

Lando promptly made his way to the other car and slid into the seat with practised ease. He signalled Will, who handed him the steering wheel. He clicked it into place before glancing to his right, smiling dangerously. “Alright, you’re on, darling. Challenge accepted.”

At that, Jarv entered a bunch of commands on his tablet, which was connected to the simulator’s system, to set the race parameters. Two cars appeared on the screens, each from their own driver’s point of view, already in position to start racing at Shanghai’s International Circuit.

“As you can see, Lando will start on the right and Y/N will start on the left,” Jarv informed.

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Lando sputtered. “Why are you starting from pole and not me?”

“Because I clocked the fastest lap time.”

“You clocked the only lap time.”

You shrugged, smiling. “Take it up with race control, baby.”

“Don’t worry,” Will reassured, looking at his own tablet as he scrolled through the accumulated data from your runs. “Break late, and you can easily overtake her in the first corner.”

Lando nodded, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel as the digital green flag was waved.

Jarv leaned in to whisper in your ear: “No, he won’t. Just remember what I taught you.”

“Aye, aye,” you said, focusing on the lights.

The cameras were all set and rolling, and Marion looked around, relishing the unexpected turn of events. This would be an enormous hit online, for sure. Her eyes landed on Oscar who stood to the back, watching the couple with an amused glint in his eye. If only she could involve him as well somehow… that would make it even better.

“Oscar, why don’t you take on the role of commentator?” Marion suggested, her tone indicating that he didn’t have much of a choice. 

Oscar startled. “Oh. Uhm. Yeah, sure.”

He moved to stand in between the two simulators, clearing his throat. “Right. Uhm. Welcome to the Shanghai International Circuit for the 2024 Chinese Grand Prix… It’s Sunday, April 21st—well, not really but let’s go with it—uhm, and we’ll soon start racing–”

“You’re a lousy commentator, Piastri,” Lando interrupted.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “How about you worry about yourself, Norris.”

Lando snickered, but he quickly sobered when the first light gleamed red. Then the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, and…

“It’s lights out and away we go!”

You got away quick, but Lando was faster, years of experience siding with him.

“Lando dives into the first corner, ahead of Y/N. Can she cross back? No, no she cannot. Ah, bummer…” Oscar narrated. “She’s right behind him, though, going into turn 3. Lando nearly missing the apex there, but he recovers well. OH! Oh, never mind. Lando goes wide in turn 6! Yeah, he’s familiar with that one.”

“Shut up,” Lando snapped.

“I didn’t think so, mate,” Oscar grinned, settling into his new character nicely. 

“Y/N is back on his heels as they go down sector two. DRS is not yet enabled, but she is only six tenths behind! Will Y/N be able to overtake Norris without DRS on the straight? She’s getting closer… they’re racing each other into turn 14, and… OH Y/N, massive lock-up! She manages to keep the car on track. Excellent save! But that’s gonna cost her some valuable time.”

You crossed start-finish, eyeing the time as you entered lap two.

Oscar’s voice boomed loud. “DRS enabled! But Y/N is too far–”

“Just 1.2 seconds behind, you can still do this,” Jarv encouraged. “Line-up on the left and take the first corner on the inside. Yeah, like that. Good.”

On the other side of the room, Will was giving Lando similar instructions. It had, after all, been a while since Lando had last raced this track. During his rookie year, no less. Therefore it was currently taking him quite a bit of effort to find the correct race line, especially with the many difficult corners and hairpins around the track. 

“Steady on,” Will said. “Y/N is out of DRS. Let’s keep it that way.”

The couple sped down the track on their simulators, and even though most of your focus was spent on driving and listening to Jarv’s notes, you also marvelled at the accuracy and realism of the sim. From the sensations of the literal car you were seated in, down to the gravel Lando’s little off-track adventure had caused to spread in and around turn 6. Whatever the outcome of the race, this experience would certainly beat waiting around and lounging in that swivel chair.

“Great exit from Norris who is absolutely flying down the straight in sector three, followed by Y/N at 1.4 seconds. Still doing a phenomenal job so far!” Oscar continued, his eyes glued to the screen. “Approaching turn 14, can Y/N manage the hairpin this time? What?! Oh, no! It’s Lando that locks up this time… Oiiioii, mighty turn 14 proves to be too much for both of our star drivers.”

Jarv kept a close eye on the interval time, and thanks to Lando’s mistake, the gap had already shrunk to 1.1 seconds. “Okay, now use the extra power from the ERS to get closer,” he instructed.

You did as you were told, pressing the correct button on the steering wheel, which gave you an extra boost to get even closer to Lando.

“Y/N gaining on Norris! And she’s now back within DRS at 0.9 seconds. Whoa, what a truly remarkable performance by someone who has never driven a race car or a sim like this before! I’d vote for her as driver of the day…”

“No one asked your opinion,” Lando cut off, sounding a little strained.

“Whatever,” Oscar shrugged, unbothered. “Lando Grumpy-Ass Norris struggles to maintain the gap between him and his girlfriend, hitting the curb a little enthusiastically right there. Oh, Y/N faces the same issues! It’s all about keeping the focus now, ladies and gents. Will Y/N be able to close the gap? Will she be able to attack Norris?”

Marion stood behind the cameras, watching gleefully how you and Lando raced each other around the virtual Shanghai circuit. Oh, you were even better than she could have ever anticipated. Better than anyone in the room could have ever anticipated, really. The whole crew was watching the race with baited breath. 

You were almost equally matched. With you, a real diamond in the rough, having received some training beforehand, and Lando, an experienced driver, essentially going in blind—it was a golden match.

Were you going to be able to do the unthinkable?

“We’re going into the penultimate lap, and even with Lando strategically using his batteries, Y/N has managed to close the gap to 0.7 with DRS. And there she is also clocking the fastest lap. Wow!”

“You can win a little bit of extra time in sector two,” Will analysed. “Turns 9 and 12 are crucial. You need a good exit.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando said. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Does he?” Oscar cut in. “We’ve got track limits for Norris in turn 9! He’s getting desperate now, with Y/N coming for him at 0.6 seconds. Is she going to—yes! She’s attempting to overtake Norris ahead of turn 11 but… fails… Oh, that was a bold move by Y/N! She lost a bit of time with that one, but she’s still within DRS range and knows she will be able to get close again for another attack.”

Your knuckles were turning white from how tight you were gripping the steering wheel. You couldn’t make a mistake, not now. You were so close… On the other sim, Lando was in a similar state. Although he was clenching his jaw in concentration instead. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep you behind him.

“Final lap,” Oscar announced. “And Norris crosses the white lines again! Turn 3 this time. Yep, there it is. Second track limits for Norris. He is feeling the heat, and not the good kind.”

Jarv’s mouth twitched. “It’s been five years since Lando raced here, let’s use it to our advantage,” he spoke to you in a hushed tone.

You nodded, your eyes never wavering from the screen in front of you.

Jarv checked the data, both yours and Lando’s, then leaned in. “Okay, here’s what you’ll do: instead of following the race line at–”

Will was closely observing you and Jarv from the other side of the room, but he couldn’t make out what Jarv was saying over the sounds of the simulators’ engines and Oscar still commentating to his heart’s content. He looked down at his driver, who was fully focused on the task before him.

“And then use the charged batteries after exiting turn 13. I know Lando’s defending tactics, this should work. He won’t see it coming,” Jarv finished. 

You simply nodded again, trusting your engineer’s judgement. You would give it your all to try and execute his strategy as best you could.

“As we’re nearing the chequered flag, all bets are off. Lando is fighting for his position with everything he has, but Y/N is not ready to call it quits just yet!” 

Your heart rate was off the charts, but you managed to stay calm, hitting the apexes, the metres between you and Lando’s car in front dwindling with each passing second.

“0.5 seconds, 0.4 seconds…”

“Flat out, Y/N. Let’s go,” Jarv said, his own heart rate ticking up.

“She’s chasing him, with DRS… There she comes. There she comes… round the inside! Y/N overtakes Norris!” Oscar roared. “Diving into the infamous turn 14… and… and she makes it! Hell yeah! What a mega move from Y/N! Now into the final corner. Can she stay ahead of Norris? Can she…? Yes!! Yes, she can!”

You passed the chequered flag, your mouth falling open in shock.

“Y/N wins the Chinese Grand Prix!”

“OH MY GOD!!”

Jarv's laugh pierced the room. “Get in! I told you!”

He managed to stop himself just in time before he started jumping up and down like an overly excited little boy. You shared his enthusiasm though, unable to control the slight tremor in your hands at seeing your name next to the word WINNER displayed boldly on the screen in front of you. 

Holy fuck, you did it. You actually did it.

Lando sank low in his seat. “How the hell…”

Will patted him on the shoulder, consoling. “You did your best mate.”

“Clearly it wasn’t enough,” he grumbled.

Will glanced at their celebrating opponents, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Get your mind out of the gutter, mate, and look on the bright side.”

“Which is?”

“Your girlfriend just showed you the perfect overtake manoeuvre for Sunday.”

“Ha-ha, very funny…”

Although, you really did. 

Lando turned to see Jarv help you out of the simulator, still grinning from ear to ear. You were reeling, the adrenaline of the fight and win coursing through your veins. Suddenly you understood what it must feel like to come out of a real F1 car, and to stand on the podium, basking in that feeling of winning a race.

As soon as you were out, Jarv high-fived you. “Solid race. That’s some potential, that is.”

Oscar came up next. “Awesome job, Y/N. Seriously. Great overtake at the end there. Perhaps you’ll be my future teammate,” he winked.

You giggled. “Thanks, guys!”

Even Will smiled at you, giving you a thumbs up as you walked over to Lando who was still seated in the other sim, sulking.

“Oh, come on,” you pouted, reaching out your hand, a peace offering. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Sure thing, it was,” he muttered, but he accepted your hand anyway before jumping out of the car. 

When he stood in front of you, he took a moment to look you up and down, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. His ego may have taken quite the blow today, but there was no denying he was also extremely proud of you. Jarv had been right after all, and Lando was happy he hadn’t taken the engineer up on his bet.

He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”

You shrugged, smiling. “Need to keep things fresh and exciting, don’t I? Otherwise you’ll tire of me in no time.”

“Never,” Lando scoffed, wrapping his arm around your waist and giving your lips a soft peck. “However, as much as I’m proud of you… this footage will never see the light of day.” 

You laughed, your eyes locking with Marion.

She sent you a wink. “We’ll see about that.”

***

a/n: thank you for reading <3 feedback is adored. 

by the way, should i make a taglist for future f1 fics? is that something you’d be interested in? or perhaps for specific drivers? let me know!

also posted on ao3

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x non-driver reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 fanfic #chinese gp 2024 #lando norris #oscar piastri #mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris blurb #challenge accepted

[triassictriserratops]

Would you be able to elaborate on your statement about the pseudo sexual imagery of the Everlark pearl? I hadn’t really considered the pearl from that angle before and would love to hear your thoughts on it.

In response to this post So firstly, this in NO WAY takes away from the other symbolism present in the pearl. This is in ADDITION to, NOT instead of. In fact, lemme go into it all from my perspective, although I know MANY creators have expressed a lot of this much more eloquently than I will! PEARLS AS THEY RELATE TO THE CAPITOL

i always viewed the presence of the pearls on Katniss' capitol wedding dress as twofold. Firstly, it speaks of the opulence and extreme perceived wealth of the Capitol. To have a dress adorned with chains of pearls - what a symbol of luxury! I also viewed them as binding/chains. A representation of the "freedom" of the victors. The trappings of their wealth while living under the thumb of the Capitol. Their chains aren't metal, they're beautiful and delicate but still present and just as deadly. Like a gentle hand on their throats.

PEARLS AS THEY RELATE TO PEETA In direct contrast to the Capitol pearls, the pearl Peeta gives Katniss is singular. It isn't purchased, it is found. It is found in a space where Peeta has nothing else to give to Katniss, other than his life. Instead of a chain or a burden it is meant as his symbol of freedom to her, in conjunction with the locket - "I give you fully back to your family. To the people who love and need you. I let you go, but this, here is something to remember me by." (And I also love how it's representative of Peeta's ability to find pieces of beauty in the most horrific of circumstances.) KATNISS' MENTAL CONNECTION OF PEETA AND THE PEARL We also know that, during Peeta's capture, Katniss connects this pearl heavily with Peeta's life and her need to protect it. "Tomorrow morning, I'm going to agree to be the Mockingjay." I tell her. "Because you want to or because you feel forced into it?" she asks. I laugh a little. "Both, I guess. No. I want to. I have to, if it will help the rebels defeat Snow." I squeeze the pearl more tightly in my fist. "It's just...Peeta. I'm afraid if we do win, the rebels will execute him as a traitor." I slip the pearl from the drawer and spend a second sleepless night clutching it in my hand, replaying Peeta's words in my head. "Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with?" I knot the pearl into the corner of the parachute, bury it deep in the recesses of the bag, as if it's Peeta's life and no one can take it away as long as I guard it. Then, later, when Peeta returns and is found to be hijacked, his essence and personhood taken from him and from HER - the Pearl becomes a symbol of the boy she lost and everything he isn't anymore. Then she finds the pearl Peeta gave me. "Is this-?" "Yeah," I say. "Made it through somehow." I don't want to talk about Peeta. One of the best things about training is, it keeps me from thinking of him. "Haymitch says he's getting better," she says. "Maybe. But he's changed," I say. I consider saying a final good-bye to Peeta, decide it would only be bad for both of us. But I do slip the pearl into the pocket of my uniform. A token of the boy with the bread. And, finally, when in the Capitol, in the last mention of the pearl, we connect it with his literal LIFE in Katniss' HANDS. (And Peeta's unwillingness to risk Katniss' life even for his freedom.) "Should we free his hands?" asks Leeg 1. "No!" Peeta growls at her, drawing his cuffs in close to his body. "No," I echo. "But I want the key." Jackson passes it over without a word. I slip it into my pants pocket, where it clicks against the pearl."

And, finally, here we go: THE PEARL AS IT RELATES TO KATNISS' SEXUAL AWAKENING It is no coincidence, to me, that the pearl is gifted from Peeta to Katniss following the events of the kiss on the beach. Katniss has now admitted to herself that Peeta holds sexual currency with her. Her body is reactive to his own and feeds a hunger in her, a flame. The giving and acceptance of the pearl can be viewed as the "tender" of that sexual currency. Katniss ALSO thinks of the pearl as it relates to Peeta in the ways that Peeta was able to make her PHYSICALLY feel. She connects it with both what she felt with him that night on the beach, and what she HOPES to feel with him upon his return. (And what she misses when he is "lost" to her.) I feel around for the parachute and slide my fingers inside until they close around the pearl. I sit back on my bed cross-legged and find myself rubbing the smooth iridescent surface of the pearl back and forth against my lips. For some reason, it's soothing. A cool kiss from the giver himself. I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone. He's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone.

all I'm saying is that Peeta would literally pass out if he ever hears about how she basically kept rubbing one out in 13 to thoughts of him. (Because, let's be real. That's what the symbolism of the pearl was.) Rolling the pearl between her fingers? Kissing it to her lips? COME ON. It's so on the nose. (Or clit in this case.) 🦪😏

#peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #everlark #the hunger games #thg series #thg #hunger games headcanon #thg headcanons #the hunger games headcanon #thg analysis #the hunger games analysis #hunger games analysis #symbolism of the pearl

[ask-caine]

ok ok what’s yours and moons love story. Beginning to end

OOC POST

It's a bit of a crazy story, actually!

We originally met online through TADC, when she messaged all the Caine accounts she could find for a shitpost "wedding" thing. We ended up hitting it off and talking about random things for a while. It started with my random fact about Kentucky marriage laws and how a couple used them to get married by cocaine bear (hence the below picture)

We ended up learning about a shared interest in plague doctors, as well as discussing several very random topics. Anyways, she invited all the Caines to a discord server, and I ended up being the only one who actually showed up. We would end up talking for hours upon hours day after day there. It was genuinely shocking how much we had in common.

At this point, I had been kinda been picking up on some of the flirtatious undertones behind some of the things she was saying, but I wasn't 100% sure about it yet and was still kinda testing the waters. I'd heard the term love at first sight, and looking back on it, that's pretty much what it felt like. I had been developing a crush on her up to this point, and I kept thinking about her as I was getting ready for bed. I had to keep stopping myself from falling head over heels, reminding myself we barely even knew each other and telling myself "no, she's just being nice. Don't be weird, there's nothing behind this, she's just being friendly."

...As it turned out, she wanted to be a little more than friends... Given my feelings up to this point, I was a little overwhelmed when she told me. I had to take a minute to collect my thoughts, to process everything (hence her jokes about me pulling a Caine and running away). But I liked her, too, and was willing to try a long-distance relationship. So, that's what we did.

It was only a few days after we first got together officially that I told her I loved her. It just felt right. Apparently I caught both of us off-guard with it, since she was sure that she'd be the one who would've said it first. ...We both dived in a little too headfirst from there. From my side of things, it was just so exciting and exhilerating to have this feeling I'd been searching for all my life, and I wanted more of it. We took a step back and both agreed to try and take things at a more reasonable pace from here on out.

We ended up learning a lot about each other. It was like we were the same person, split apart and put in two entirely different situations but turning out the same way anyway. ...This similarity became concerning when we realized we both had the same last name, as well as the fact that we both had Scottish ancestry. But, one family search check later, we confirmed that we are not, in fact, related. Just another insane coincidence that further proves that we were made for each other...

We shared a lot with each other. Our interests, hobbies, ideals, feelings on various topics. Our experiences throughout life, good and bad. The darkest parts of us. Every day, we grew closer. There was no denying that there was something special between us.

That isn't to say everything was perfect. We both still had a lot to learn about ourselves and about each other. There were ups and downs. Things were far from easy. There was a lot of avoidable pain both ways. As time went on, we started to become a little more distant...

Eventually, the stress of life and school and worries and everything going on got to be too much, and she called for us to take a break from the relationship. This hurt, of course... But, taking a break and being done are very different things. I was okay with taking a break, since we would still hang out and such sometimes, just not as romantically.

But, that still wasn't enough. Everything continued to be really stressful, and she felt like she wasn't a net positive in my life and was dragging me down (though the truth was exactly the opposite). So, she decided to fully end the relationship. Which... Really hurt me. Badly.

I kind of fell into a depressive state for a while. I had opened myself up like never before, let myself be more vulnerable than at any point in my life. I had finally found love, the one thing I'd truly wanted all my life, the only thing I've ever needed, and then it was just taken right away. The one thing I feared more than anything else in the world had come to pass.

We would still talk occasionally, but not like before. I already hurt so much, and just talking with her without being able to say the love I still felt was torture for me. So, I distanced myself a bit. I dealt with things on my own. I learned a lot about myself as I came to terms with how things had ended up.

Eventually, I started to feel a little more okay. I knew I could never stop loving her, so I decided to try and turn that love from romantic to platonic and still try to be a friend. Because while I may have lost her, she didn't want me out of her life completely. I could make do as just friends.

But, when I started to come back and we started to talk more again, she realized how much she had been missing me while we were apart. She figured out that some of the things she'd been feeling had been more than she'd realized. She learned that she actually was happier when we were together, and that she still really enjoyed being with me.

So, she began to give little hints again, like before. And, again, I picked up on them, but I didn't want to believe them 100% because of how much I'd been hurt last time. I told myself that she was just showing platonic love, the same way I was. Things would never be the same again. They couldn't be. If I was good for her before, she wouldn't have left...

It was actually Randy who got us actually talking again, first on our blogs, and then regarding what we were being sent. This eventually led to us talking just in general, about all sorts of things... Including what had happened between us. It was emotional, but we both came out of it feeling better about things.

That said, it took until this post before I realized she still loved me and that it was okay to love her back, the way I'd been holding in all this time. We had a heartfelt reunion, though we weren't officially dating again just yet. It still took me a while after that to fully accept everything and let down my guard again, after how much I was still hurting from last time...

But I didn't like the feeling of keeping her away. Of having a barrier between us. I desperately craved that deep, personal connection of love with her again. So, I opened my heart up again. And I'm so incredibly grateful that I did.

Soon after that point, Randy showed up and all those shenanigans ensued. But they only managed to get us talking more about things and uniting against it, which actually brought us even closer together. So, I guess if one good thing's come out of that dumpster fire of stress and stupidity, it's that.

Things have been absolutely wonderful since we got back together. We both learned a lot about ourselves in our time apart, and things have been much better between us. The rocky, uncertain road from before the break had smoothed over. And we fell so much deeper in love the second time.

Add in the stress of the past several weeks, with all the Tumblr drama with these blogs and the hiatus and everything (which I'm not getting into because you can see all that for yourself by looking through our blogs), and you're caught up to the present day. Life is still very stressful for us both, but a lot less so than when we first got together. We understand ourselves and each other so much better, which helps us make less mistakes and treat each other more tenderly and personally in the ways that we need most.

As for the future, immediately after finishing school, I plan to find work and save up to visit her in Canada sometime in the summer. After that is a little hazy at the moment, but we'll figure out our lives and put together a plan to find stable jobs and create a good life for ourselves up there.

And that's it, that's our story. From when we met all the way to the present day. You said beginning to end, but I'm afraid there is no end to our love. The story's still being written. Our lives are still being lived. I hope to be able to add to this years into the future, when we're living together and when we start our own family. But it might still take a while to reach that point.

#pdw x shy #ooc post #love story #lore dump #tadc ask blog #tadc bluetooth #bluetooth tadc #caine tadc #tadc caine #moon x caine #caine x moon #caine x the moon #the moon x caine #idk how to tag this #i hope this is good

[simplydnp]

hey there!

I kind of consider you the resident dnp expert (at least in dnp culture) so I wanted your opinion on a question that's been building for a while now.

What are the boundaries for dnp now?

There are so many things that I feel have changed even in the last four years: writing smutty rpf was Gross and Weird, along with art along that line, speculating about their relationship was ABSOLUTELY a no-go, all things that I see happening on Tumblr now. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing!! I'm just acknowledging things have changed over time. They're different people now and so are we, and the "we know you know" era is lots of fun.

I was browsing reddit today (bad idea, do not recommend) and came across a post from a new Phannie asking if DnP were in a relationship. And while I agree that we cannot say for absolute certain that they are, the responses had a VERY different vibe than on here, emphasizing how bad the speculation was (true) and essentially saying "don't even think about that, just enjoy their content." (or something to that extent.)

Which... is very different from this here website in which we joke about them being horney for each other constantly lmao.

Being a very rules-driven person, I like expectations to be made abundantly clear for pretty much everything. So that's why I want to ask: Is there a line here? Are we crossing that line? How defined is that line? (All of this, of course, I recognize is your opinion and yours alone, and if this is posted I encourage anyone else to share their two-cents in a respectful way.)

Obviously, trying to find out where they live/things like that is very clearly crossing a boundary. But is there some sort of limit or boundary I (and tbh the rest of the phandom), in your opinion, should be keeping in mind?

thanks xx

hi!

'resident expert' is a hefty title, i'm just here trying my best!

'what are the boundaries for dnp now?' is really a great question. cause the thing is, we used to know. there used to be a fairly well-defined and mostly agreed upon line, and ever since the dapg revival in particular, the line keeps moving.

i'll be honest, i never really saw phanfic as rpf, even though it is. my stance on phanfic is the same as dnps: it's a beautiful expression of art and creativity and is so, so important. they've always been pro-fic (even though we subjected them to some absolutely horrific crack fics), so i don't think 'smutty' fic has ever been gross or too far. they've given their blessing, and, as the conversation has been in fandom communities the last few years, rpf isn't 'for' the people in them, it's for the fans. so i digress.

art is much the same way. they love art! they even included art of them kissing in a tumblr tag video back in the day, so to say that's not allowed especially after they're out is kind of crazy to me.

i think the line with stuff like that was showing it directly to dnp--tagging them in explicit stuff, that kind of thing. but creating it? go for it! it's always been a green light. (i think fans have previously overpoliced this and we lost a lot of great fic, art, and community members over it)

browsing reddit is always a Choice. i've never participated on dnp reddit before but i am aware that it is an entirely different space than here. something that's important, i think (and i think you think this too as you're asking about them), is to respect the fandom rules of the place you partcipate in. tumblr is generally one of the most phan-positive places on the internet, especially publicly facing. we make a lot of relationship jokes, particularly because we run on the assumption it's already true, based on what they've both said publicly (mostly dan).

i won't comment on reddit specifically just because i'm not a part of the community there, but the speculation about dnp online was a Lot for a long time. but the worst part of it was the stalking, the digging into personal lives, the contacting family members--that is what was bad. dnp have always had a connection--and, honestly, they kind of love flexing it and kind of always have. they absolutely play into things now, but they certainly did even way before coming out too. i think a certain level of speculation was to be expected, especially in that era of online fandom. but it wasn't just the 'teenage girls' who cared, the media did too, and so did many others.

i think one of the biggest differences now is 1 the awareness of 'our' past and trying to make up for it, and 2 the broader societal conversations about parasocial relationships.

you see this reflected on the snippets ive seen from dnp reddit and dnp twitter. they tend to be Very 'cautious' about the words they say, often undercutting perfectly reasonable statements with 'but whatever their relationship is'. on one hand, they don't want to cross a line, and i can respect that. on the other hand... it's 2024 babes. they just put out merch of them holding hands. dan's directly, intentionally, and explicitly called phil a bottom on dapg. they reacted to all of the pinofs, made jokes about 'theyre touching', and even joked about the tackle being 'wrestling 👀'. dan posted half-naked catboy pics and showed us phil was taking them. the 'watch your step babygirl' tweet & their reactions to it. phil is credited in WAD. they're making threesome jokes about themselves as a unit. i could go on and on.

to me, there's a few things that have 'moved the line' for us, so to speak.

1 - DAPG returning. for the last few years they specifically were not a duo (for projects) anymore. (and no, not because they hated each other). they just weren't. they wanted to focus on their goals and projects. they didn't have to resurrect dapg, but they chose to. marketing and money aside, they knew that if this went over well, it would well and truly revive the 'dan and phil' brand again. it would be specifically returning to being a duo in the public eye. (however they've also fully embraced this in all aspects, including merch, videos, and general attitude)

2 - pinof reacts. even though they'd been out since 2019, we hadn't had regular joint content from them since before that, therefore, while they had become more comfortable with themselves and their 'outness', we hadn't (in terms of them making explicit gay jokes together). so i really think dnp had to de-fang a lot of the 'theyre touching' of it all, because we didn't really know where we stood on it anymore. i think they succeeded, too. we couldn't be here, with the content of the last 3 months, without them tackling it head on (well, as head on as they're want to do).

3 - dapc. genuinely another big shift. they did this for the real fans. purely a passion project, and a specific choice in doing the handhold. they know what we're like. and this wasn't a brief, unplanned, unscripted moment. it's a specifically blocked out scene. they know it's opening a door, and they chose to. this is doubled by the fucking iconic merch selling, and furthered by phil's twitter likes of arguably romantic phanart, and then dan's full straddle like.

even throughout the current 6 months of revival, the line has moved. i don't know where it will settle. dnp keep moving it, in my opinion, and, genuinely, i don't think it's going to leave much to the imagination. as you say, obviously not the stalking or the contacting, but beyond that? especially here on tumblr? i wouldn't get too worried. obviously people will have their opinions, but as long as you're generally respectful and recognize that humans will see your posts and humans interact with them, i think you're good.

my rule of thumb is anything they intentionally put on the table, we can joke about or at the same level. but in terms of art/fic? go off, live your dreams. dan and phil would want you to.

#i didn't include a cut because people don't always look under them and this is generally a whole statement. feel free to add things. #there's specific discourse i dont partake in. doesnt mean you have to avoid it entirely. but just dont bring it up to dnp and you're fine. #dnp #dan and phil #phan #<- for the fandometrics #c.text #answered

[alllgator-blood]

ohhhhg ky god i LOVE how u write shamura's non-binaryness ,,,, sorry if that sounds weird but it's EXACTLY what i think abt my own identity too. i am not a boy or a girl i am just tha darkness between stars and the last beats of a dying heart

(i also love kallamar having 'too much gender' bc ,,, same also KEBEKRYDJSYEJ)

I finished this yesterday but Home Stuff was happening and I couldn't post it, ANYWAY- WOW THE WHOLE TRANSGENDER GANG HAS ARRIVED! And...specifically the pre-injury versions because I just am tired of drawing bandages! I'm actually really happy you liked how I wrote shamura's gender explanation thing because like...I've always gotten euphoria from things that aren't other people, but felt like it was a weird thing to do? I made a joke comic about it forever ago where my gender envy was stuff like john carpenter's the thing, the collector from darkest dungeon, and the mystery flesh pit monster. So having a freaky eldritch spider cult leader be canonically nonbinary and having their gender be respected by the other characters was like a dream come true for me, ESPECIALLy since there's enough wiggle room to make my own interpretation of what they are. If anyone can see themself in the way I write these guys then tbh that's all I could ever hope for, so I'm really grateful you let me know your thoughts!!

My hc's for the family is definitely shamura being voidpunk, kallamar being genderfluid, and leshy is just a Dude. A Funny Little Guy. Idek why I strongly feel like he's transmasc but it's probably the fact I grew up with a transmasc younger brother who's also a little shit lmao--

#cotl #cult of the lamb #shamura #leshy #kallamar

[ooctlt]

I really like this blog most of the time, but sometimes you take reasonable earnest asks that are trying to be thoughtful, and are such a dick about it.

Like if it's the characters being dicks, fine. But you could say something in the tags or post to indicate you're not just viciously mocking someone for trying to engage.

I still haven't submitted an ask since seeing your response that led to comments along the lines of "anon should go die in a hole" for asking, pretty reasonably, why harrow would want to stay with people she didn't seem to like or want to be around or interact with.

(i know, because she does like them and does want them around but doesn't know how to show it) but it's an ASK blog. How do we hear that from her unless someone ASKS

i understand it might be surprising and a bit hurtful to see an ask answered with the characters being mean/flippant, and for that i do apologize that it wasnt made clear that it would be a common thing in this blog. id like to issue the disclaimer: there is always the possibility that the characters here will not take your question well. they might answer rudely, and instigating behavior is not only encouraged but expected on both ends. this does not reflect my personal opinions as the artist; there are over 250 asks even after i constantly compile duplicates, and i will answer the asks that i personally like.

i will assume you are referencing the two most recent posts where gideon acts rudely and i repost an old panel: for the former i thought anon was really sweet for being so heartfelt and encouraging, but gideon isnt the kind of person who needs to be told shes brave for doing that by a stranger. it was a simple act of survival. and harrow is still very much in the passive deprogramming phase. the latter response was meant to kickstart (spoilers) what i will call the "dicks last resort" arc, where i clean out the inbox and share more simple, low effort, but potentially rude responses*. this is because i have roughly drawn almost daily for 87 days straight, and would like to recuperate without being burnt out because i love this blog and i love art.

this leads me to my next point: some of these answers will be curt and short and rude, because they are easy to draw. if i only prioritized the "good" asks or to make certain ask responses kinder, or longer, it wouldnt be a daily blog. it would be a monthly blog where 5 asks get answered among 100s. i didnt anticipate people asking about harrows piercings, and i considered shutting it down by just having harrow say she likes them etc. but i did want to give more insight into harrows character even if she wouldnt say so herself, and that took roughly 3 full unemployed nights. if i treated every ask in good faith the same way i wouldnt have time for anything else, because they take more effort and have to be seriously considered for the future. i can retcon their favorite ice cream or play off griddlehark fighting - it takes more to keep track of a narrative about people talking Around their issues

* by rude responses i mean "this will affect the 679ers negatively, much like making your sim 🧑‍🤝‍🧑➖➖ someone" there are a few asks planned to hurt in the same way one drafts a bad end in a visual novel, and this type of interaction is encouraged. of course if you dont want them to get worse dont send asks telling gideon she should flirt with MILFs (you cant send this ask now i already said it), but i encourage the banter.

TL;DR this is the "characters think you are weird for personal questions" blog. i am sorry i didnt warn of the ask-response banter, because i also enjoy drawing these characters being dicks. i do like when aggravation and conflict leads to character development. "how do we get earnest answers unless someone asks" sometimes you will never explicitly get that from them, and thats what the dead ends are for: to let you know to try something else and read between the lines

#the reason why i did not say anything sooner is because i do not like making ooc posts on here often. i want a little intrigue and mystery #i dream of when people will actively discuss in tags and notes how best to confront these characters #actual ooc #and i will say. i will not remember to indicate in the tags that i am not mocking the ask every time #i cannot be responsible for managing everyones feelings if they are hurt that harrowhark or gideon reacted badly #which i have seen people do! in the notes saying that gideons behavior makes them hate her a little! good! #if you dont like the direction this blog turns then i would encourage you to interact selectively

[lousypotatoes]

The Sun's In My Heart

Warning! This post contains murder, mentions of sex, and lots of cussing. If any of these make you uncomfy, please read with caution.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

"Hey Vaggie?"

"What do you want?" Vaggie said.

"Do you and Charlie have a second?" she asked. "Me and Alastor made something that we think could help get more guests for the hotel."

"What exactly did you and Alastor make?" Vaggie asked, eyeing Y/N suspiciously.

"Find Charlie and find out," she giggled, walking away. "We'll be downstairs."

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

"They'll be here in a minute," she said as she walked down the stairs.

"Ah wonderful!" Alastor said. "Thank you for telling them, dear."

"It's nothing to thank me over," she waved off, walking over to stand next to Alastor. "But you're welcome."

"Alright," Angel Dust said from the couch. "What's the deal with you two? You fuckin' or what?"

Alastor didn't say anything, but Y/N saw that his eye started to twitch, his smile becoming more forced.

"It's nothing like that Angel," she awkwardly laughed. "We were just really close when we were alive,"

"You're not doin' a good job of convincin' me, toots."

"Oh my Satan, how many times do I have to explain it to you?"

"This will be the last time, dear," Alastor said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Unless our friend wants to hear his screams broadcasted to all of Hell."

Before Angel Dust could reply, Charlie came downstairs, dragging Vaggie by her hand.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so excited to see what you guys made!" she gushed, sitting on the couch. "Thank you guys so much for taking the time to make whatever it is,"

"You don't have to thank us, Charlie," Y/N said. "Besides, it was Alastor's idea to make the whole thing."

"Yes, but you also had part in making it," Alastor said.

"Can we just watch whatever it is now?" Vaggie asked, annoyed.

"Oh, right," Y/N said sheepishly, turning on the TV.

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

"So, what'd ya think?" Alastor said, turning off the TV after the commercial ended.

For a moment, Charlie and Vaggie didn't say anything, they just had looks of confusion and shock on both their faces.

"I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?" Vaggie said angrily.

"Hey, we worked hard on puttin' that together!" Y/N said, putting her hands on her hips.

"It's good," Charlie said, a fake smile on her face. "Alastor, Y/N-I mean," Charlie couldn't find the words to say.

"Do you not like it?" Y/N asked.

"No! No!" Charlie exclaimed, waving her arms around. "It's amazing! Thank you both so much for making it, but um..maybe the tone is a bit off?"

Neither Alastor or Y/N said anything. Vaggie continued to glare at both of them angrily.

"We want people to want to come here," Charlie continued. "This makes it look...umm-"

"Bad," Vaggie interrupted. "The word you're looking for is bad."

"We made it like that 'cause we thought it was funny," Y/N said, glaring at Vaggie.

"Hilarious is a better term for it, my dear," Alastor said, tilting his head.

"It didn't explain anything about how we're trying to save demons from extermination, which is the whole fucking point!"

"The commercial explained all of that," Y/N said.

"It didn't explain any of it!" Vaggie said angrily, crossing her arms.

"Vaggie is right," Charlie said. "The commercial was to let Sinners know we are trying to help them."

"Well, my dear," Alastor said, running his fingers across his cane. "I haven't been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show. The proper medium to express oneself! But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement, so we had a little fun with it." he finished, smirking.

"Oh, fun. You had a little fun with it?" Vaggie said, standing up. "Well, this is not what we want representing us."

"You said you wanted help," Y/N said, a small frown on her face. "This is us tryin' to help."

"Well then try harder," Vaggie said. "When you two showed up, both of you said you would help run the hotel, instead you're mocking us! Nobody's going to want to come to a place where two powerful Overlords think is a big waste of time!" she finished, sitting back down, scowling.

"Just be grateful we're actually trying to help," Y/N said as calmly as she could, taking a seat next to Angel. "You know what people think of this place. They all think it's the most stupidest idea ever. At least you have people like me and Al wantin' to help."

Before Vaggie could respond, Angel raised his gloved hand from the couch.

Vaggie turned her attention to him, "What?"

"If'n ya filmin' a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?" he said, all four of his hands pointing to himself.

"Angel, you're a porn star."

"A famous porn star," he corrected her, putting his legs on Y/N's lap. "I'll have the horniest sinners knockin' down these walls to get in."

"We are not filming a porn as a commercial." Vaggie said. Charlie just looked concerned.

"Why not?" Angel asked. "Sex sells, don't it? I swear, you film a threesome with mister fancy talk creepy voice and miss dommy mommy vibes and me, you'd be rollin' in participates willin' to stay at this tacky hotel."

Blushing, Y/N immediately pushed his legs off her.

"Gross, Angel,"

"Haha! Never going to happen!"

"Angel," Charlie began, smiling awkwardly. "I appreciate you wanting to use your special skills to, um, attract folks to the hotel, but- I don't want to exploit you in that way!"

"Oh, please, baby," Angel waved off. "This body was made to be exploited. I got the arms, I got stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity-"

Y/N walked over to Alastor as Angel continued to talk about his body.

"Told you she wouldn't like the commercial," she muttered as Charlie's phone began to ring.

"All that matters is that it's entertaining, dear." he said. "Everybody likes a good laugh, don't you think?"

"Hey, I have a question," Angel said, interrupting Y/N and Alastor. "Why can't you just make people stay here babycakes? Since you're so powerful and all."

"I can," Y/N said, her eyes glowing red for a split second. "I just don't feel like doin' it."

Vaggie scoffed.

"What about you freaky face?" Angel asked

"Oh, trust me, I can!" Alastor said ominously, his antlers beginning to grow.

"Why do you think I'm here?" Husk called from the bar.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"You actually think I'd be cleaning bottles and listening to you fuck's bitch and moan all the time if he wasn't forcin' me?" he said as he cleaned a bottle.

"I like being forced," Nifty said, popping up from behind the bar.

"Keep that to yourself, Niff,"

"What, you don't love being here with me, Whiskers?" Angel teased.

"Call me Whiskers again and I'll jam that bottle down your throat!" Husk threatened.

"Kinky. Come one keep talkin' dirty."

"Angel, let Husk do his job," Vaggie sighed. "And no, we can't force sinners to stay here. They need to choose to."

"I'm choosing to be here, and I think it's all stupid." he said. "We're in Hell, toots. That's kind of the end of the road, ain't it?"

"Well maybe it doesn't have to be."

"Nobody's made it out Vaggie," Y/N pointed out. "How do we know getting redeemed is even possible?"

"We just have to try," Vaggie said. "It doesn't mean it's not possible."

"Hey," Angel said, putting his hand on Vaggie's shoulder. "Whatever means I can keep crashin' here rent free. Crack is expensive."

"I've been meanin' to ask, Al," Y/N said quietly. "Are you here to get redeemed?"

"Heavens no!" Alastor chuckled. "I'm simply here for entertainment!"

"Explain more, please," Y/N said.

"I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly!" he exclaimed. "Isn't that why you came here?"

"A little bit yes, but-"

Before Y/N could finish, she heard Vaggie and Charlie.

"But-But the extermination just happened. What could they want this soon after-"

Charlie cut off Vaggie "This is the perfect opportunity, Vaggie," she smiled. "I could get Heaven on board with my plan."

"Charlie hold on-"

Charlie ignored Vaggie. "There's no way I can mess this up!" she said, pacing all around the room. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!"

"It's just a meeting," Vaggie groaned.

"When I speak to them, I'm going to change their minds and touch their hearts, or whatever angels have, actually."

"This could be bad," Vaggie said.

"Vaggie, it's gonna be alright!" Charlie said, taking Vaggie's hands and spinning around. "Something tells me that today will be a happy day in Hell!"

And with that, Charlie bolted out the door.

Everyone but Husk and Vaggie crowded around the door.

"She's halfway down the street," Y/N called out, giggling.

"Is she-?" Vaggie started

"Oh, she's dancin'," Angel finished, taking a drink of his booze.

"Ugh, no!" Vaggie groaned.

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

Y/N was currently sitting in her room, going through paperwork of all the demons she killed. Something about seeing the number of lives she took away really boosted up her ego.

Going through the paperwork, she remembered the conversation she had with that woman on the phone before Alastor came in and brought up the idea for the commercial.

Remembering it, her eyes glowed a dangerous red. She was going to hunt down this woman, and she was going to do it now.

She opened her bedroom door and strode out, giving out a dangerous energy that even Angel and Vaggie knew not to mess with.

"I'll be back soon, Vaggie," she said, knowing that Vaggie wanted to ask. "I have some business to take care of, I shouldn't be gone long."

"What kind of business, hm?" Alastor suddenly asked, startling her. "You seem to be in a rush."

"It's something that I want done and I want it done right now." She said. Alastor saw the dangerous glint and his grin grew wider. "You're welcome to join me. Or not, I don't care."

Wanting to see Y/N in action, Alastor nodded eagerly. "Alright then,"

Y/N smirked. "I suggest you find another to keep up with me,then," she said in a way that caused Alastor to get goosebumps. "'Cause I'm not walkin' to my destination."

With that she walked out the door and unfurled her wings. Alastor was amazed on how big her wings actually were. He wanted to touch them.

"Y'know, it's quite rude to stare."

Alastor blushed, not knowing that Y/N saw him staring.

"My apologies, Y/N," he said, his eye twitching in embarrassment. "I'll meet you at our destination,"

"How do you know where I'm goin?"

"I have my ways."

Y/N grinned. She liked this side of Alastor, and she liked it a lot. She wanted to see this side of Alastor more often.

"Good luck keepin' up,"

As soon as she finished her sentence, she shot up into the air, flying gracefully. Alastor had never seen anything like this before, she was so beautiful and graceful, just like she was when she was alive. But something about seeing shoot up in the sky like that made something stir in his heart that he hadn't felt in a long time. He smiled genuinely, then melted into the shadows, following Y/N as best as he could.

As Y/N flew over Pentagram city, she tried to smell out and hear that bitch as best as she could. She had never done this before but decided that she wasn't going back to the hotel until that woman's head was off her body.

Flying past The Vee's Tower, she finally found her target. She didn't know how, but she just knew that it was her. The woman was walking out of the tower, a coffee in her hand and texting on her phone.

Swooping down, Y/N grabbed the woman and flung her into the wall of a nearby alleyway. As soon as Y/N landed on the ground, Alastor materialized out of the shadows, his grin wider than ever.

The woman's eyes were closed "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU A-?" she screamed, but as soon as she saw Y/N and Alastor in front of her she stopped talking.

"Is this the business you had to take care of?" Alastor asked, leaning on his cane.

"Unfortunately, yes," she said, not taking her eyes off the woman.

"I'm assuming this is has to deal with the services you offer?"

"No, she just really fuckin' annoyed me," Y/N said. Her eyes glowing red, she walked over the woman. "No wonder you're so stupid. You work for the Vee's don't you?"

"If you kill me," the woman said meekly. "They'll come after you."

Y/N laughed. "They won't do anything," she grabbed the woman up by her throat. Alastor was watching intently. "You think I'm scared of the Vees? Sweetie, it's the other around."

One of the woman's arms ripped off. The woman screamed in pain.

"This is what happens when you piss me off, do you understand?"

The woman nodded, tears streaming down her face.

"I don't think you do," Y/N said

She summoned an angelic knife and pushed it straight through the womans throat. The woman gurgled but died quickly.

Alastor stared at Y/N with wide eyes. He had never seen anything more attractive.

"Did you enjoy watchin'" Y/N asked cockily.

"Immensely, my dear," Alastor breathed out. "I wish I would of saw you like that when we were alive.

Y/N giggled "So do I. Now we should head back to the Hotel," she said, dusting off her pants. "I'd hate to attract an audience."

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

Back at the Hotel, everyone was sitting on the couch, Vaggie pacing in front of them.

"Okay, so Charlie is dealing with something very important, so while she's gone, we are making a new commercial." Vaggie said. "One that represents her vision and what we're doing here. Alastor, we need a camera."

Alastor snapped his fingers and a camera from back when Y/N was alive popped up in Vaggie's hand.

"A video camera," Vaggie said.

Alastor hummed in dissaproval, but snapped again. The old camera disappeared and a modern video camera popped up in Vaggie's hand.

"All right! Let's do this!" Vaggie said, pumping her fist into the air.

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

"And....action!"

Y/N watched as Vaggie recorded a scene of Husk and Angel at the bar.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel," Husk said, the script in front of his face. "Can I help you with anything?"

"I've been a bad boy," Angel said suggestively, climbing onto the bar. "And I need a big strong daddy to put me in my place...on the path to redemption!"

Seeing Husk's face made Y/N feel bad for the cat but also giggle.

Husk rolled his eyes and groaned. "Well, you come-"

"Oh yes!" Angel interrupted.

"-to the right place."

"Cut!" Vaggie cried out. "Okay Angel, I need you to be less horny, if possible. And Husk, could you maybe not have the script in front of your face?"

"I ain't no actor! I can't memorize this shit!" Husk said, throwing the paper on the bar.

"We could improve this shit, babycakes," Angel purred. "Rawrr~"

Husk pushed Angel off the bar. "Whoops,"

Vaggie sighed. "Husk, come on!"

Y/N went back upstairs, killing that woman made her tired and she wanted to take a tiny nap.

"Not going to watch them down there?"

Y/N jumped and saw Alastor standing in front of her.

"Jesus Christ, Alastor, what is it with and scarin' me all the damn time?"

Alastor chuckled. "I can't help it, my dear. "You're too easy to scare."

Y/N scoffed and continued to walk to her room. Alastor followed her.

"I'm way too tired to argue with you right now,"

"Maybe you should get some rest then, dear,"

"I was on my way too when you scared me,"

"Am I annoying you?" Alastor asked, still following her.

"A little bit, yes," Y/N mumbled, as they reached her room. "I know Vaggie wants me to film a part, so could you maybe wake me up?"

"If you need me too, then of course,"

"Thank you Al," she smiled genuinely. "And thanks for comin' with me earlier. Usually, I like doin' stuff like that by myself, but you added somethin' nice to it."

"If anything, I should be thanking you," he said. "You put on quite the show for me today. I applaud you. I'll leave you to rest now."

Alastor melted into the shadows, leaving Y/N flustered and grinning cheesily. He was just like how he was on Earth, despite the psychopath tendencies, she liked that part of him too. She went into her bedroom and flopped onto her bed, sighing happily, her dead heart beating rapidly in her chest.

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

Y/N woke up from her nap to a knock on her door.

"Come in," she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

The door opened and Alastor stepped in the room. He smiled genuinely when he saw Y/N in her sleepy form.

"Vaggie wants you downstairs," Alastor said quietly, an amused smile coming to his face.

"I'll be down there in a minute," Y/N said groggily. "Thanks for wakin me up, Al,"

"You don't have to thank me," Alastor waved off before heading out the door. "I'm glad you slept well, my dear."

After he left, Y/N got out of bed and straightened out her outfit and her hair before heading downstairs. When she got down there, she saw that the whole downstairs area looked like a set from a movie. There were lights and cameras everywhere, and everyone besides Alastor was dressed in outfits from the time you and Alastor were alive.

Y/N was impressed.

"Alright everyone!" Vaggie said as soon as she saw Y/N. "Let's make a fucking commercial.

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

After all of them were done filming for the commercial, they sat around or on the couch, waiting for Charlie to come back, and for the commercial to air.

Y/N heard Charlie come in through the front door. Vaggie heard it to, getting up to greet her.

"Charlie!" Vaggie said, hugging her. "How did it go? Did they listen?"

"Oh, uh...They sure did..hear it! But um-" Charlie said.

"Oh! Come here!" Vaggie exclaimed, pulling Charlie towards the couch. "We have something exciting to show you!"

"Alastor and Y/N pulled some strings and it's about to air," Vaggie said as her and Charlie.

"We pulled a few limbs too," Y/N giggled.

"Wait? The commercial?" Charlie said, confused. "You all made a new one?"

"Yeah, one of my better performances, if I do say so myself," Angel said, grinning.

"That's...amazing," Charlie said, her eyes sparkling.

"Shh! It's starting!" Angel shushed.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hot-" Vaggie said on the TV before the signal got interrupted.

"Oh, what the fuck?" Y/N said in anger. Everyone reacted the same way she did.

A news broadcast came on.

"Breaking news in Hell today!" Katie Killjoy said on the TV. "We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before."

Hearing those words, Y/N's eyes widened in shock and fear.

"Do you know what that means Tom?"

"No, what does that mean, Katie?" Tom Trench asked.

"It means we're all royally fucked!" she answered, her neck snapping.

The camera cut to the Extermination Day timer, the numbers going down from 358 to 176.

"Wait...what? Why!?" Angel exclaimed.

Everyone in the room besides Nifty had looks of shock and confusion on their faces. Even Alastor didn't have his usual grin on his face.

"We are so fucked," Y/N muttered

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

sorry it took me so long to upload, i've been really busy lol

angel dust and husker are my spirit animals

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@maksdust @trippoverrt @slytherin4ever @lucifers-silhouette @a-small-tyrant @leviwife1 @mo-0-o @cutiebimbo

#character x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor altruist #alastor x reader #alastor altruist x reader #angel dust #husker #nifty #vaggie #charlie morningstar #adam #lute #katie killjoy #tom trench

[ravengards-rogue]

i lose control (when you're not next to me.)

javier escuella x reader

✧ tags : afab + fem!reader (gendered language + wearing dresses etc), established relationship, religious imagery (maybe sacrilege)takes place in ch.4 of rdr2, submissive!reader, soft dom!javier, some spanish petnames (mi amor mi vida, and hermosa i think), pillowing humping, penetration, very lovesick sex lol, veryy established dynamic, praise kink, written like. sooo explicitly for @nanamimizz, 18+

✧ wc : 5.2k (after editing mind you)

✧ a/n : this is fucking nuts LMAOO. i wrote this like. no bullshit in a day. i don't know how that happened. mentioned in the tags that this is for my beloved best friend but i think it's still okay to post. im losing it a little. i have hw due in an hour

✧ synopsis : javier can't help but feel some ways about the way you miss him. so dreadfully obedient. so apparently needy. how could he not adore you?

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

There’s something a little pathetic in the way you pine after Javier that makes him a worse man than he is. 

He’s good to you though. Always. Down to his bones, the core of him. The soul of him. It’s hard to be anything but good to you. 

In all of his life, across lovers, men and women - he doesn’t think he’s met a single soul who simply likes him as much as you do. Who preens so pretty with so little, who doesn’t need much at all. Never met a woman who tucks and folds herself into corners just to be polite. Never thought he’d find it so fascinating, either - but you prove him wrong often. 

It’s testament to Javier’s adoration that he can’t help but notice you anyway. That even when your featherlight footsteps and darling voice fall off and get caught on the wind and blown away - Javier will still manage to find you. Even with all of your attempts to make yourself small and unrecognizable, his sharp brown eyes will still catch on the linen of your skirts and the threaded gold of your cross necklace. Javier’s own body betrays him in his love for you, in his wanting. 

Even though he’s not interested in pretending he doesn’t love you, his eyes and mouth and hands would look and call and search. They’d never give him the opportunity to be anything but in love. 

It’s important that he makes that known. He’s only ever interested in being a good man to you. Holding you and kissing you and worshiping you until you’re melty between his fingers. Javier loves loving the resistance out of you and you always make it so easy for him. 

He’s a good lover by nature and by practice. Passionate and maybe a little conceited, it’s not his first brush with romantics. He can only hope it’ll be his last. 

Even so, he’s never been liked the way you like him. 

You like Javier in a way you seem embarrassed by when you remember. It causes you to act in ways out of character on the surface, emboldened. Maybe just needy. Enough to bask in his praise and affection once a little liquor has touched your mouth. You like Javier in a way that makes you lovesick and puppylike, all honeyed gazes and pouty lips. He’s never met somebody who likes him the way you do, without grandstanding. Just pure, puppy love. Almost innocent if you don’t look too long. 

Almost being what matters most. 

Javier knows the way you were raised, after all. Knows the intimate ways in which you fold yourself and tuck your wants between the pages of your diary and slip your requests under your tongue. It’s hard for you to want for anything too much because you’ve been told your whole life that wanting at all is a sin. Wanting may even get you killed. A good woman should want nothing but salvation. Anything more than that is indulgence and there’s nothing good about that. It translates in the way you carry yourself. You’ll stop and fumble and shy away before even fixing your lips to ask, like you’re planning on being rejected or told no. 

A good girl like you being told no so often, it’s made you all sacrifice and empty prayers. Javier often feels grief about your lives before each other but nothing makes it so evident as that. A good woman, a beautiful and kind and soft one like you should never hear the words no without the best of reasons. That’s what Javier believes for all of his lovers, but you’re special. 

And that makes it worse. 

For you he’d do anything. No price he wouldn’t pay, no place he wouldn’t go, nothing that’s too far out of his reach. He thinks maybe he’s so eager to give it to you because he knows you don’t have it in you to take it yourself. You won’t whine greedily even if Javier tells you too, so Javier’s giving is only a partial virtue. It’s mostly pride, after all. It hurts his ego a little when you refuse to bask in the love he so enthusiastically wants to drown you in. 

Despite his complaints though, it’s a part of you that makes him so weak to you. That you want with such desperation but don’t allow yourself to take - so it makes you pliant and willing and terribly, adorably pathetic. You’re so weak for Javier. Just for him, you always say. Always with a hand in his, or wrapped around his bicep. All yours, Javi. Always his. 

That’s the thing. Javier wants to give everything in the world to you. He wants to be good to you, and he so often is. But you do things sometimes, all collapsed under the weight of your own desire that drive him insane. Make him act in ways he normally wouldn’t dream of doing. Depraved and filthy and unromantic in all senses of the word. 

It’s really not very polite for Javier to stand and watch you at his door - humping his pillow with weeps and huffs. It’s not kind to embarrass you. He’s a good man, and a good man would cover you with his coat and maybe smile about how much you care for him. 

But there’s just something about the look on your face when you do it, something about the tear stains in your lashes and the way your cheek is pressed in his jacket. Something about that needy, incessant little ache in your voice as you call and call and call for him. As if you’re hoping you’ll answer despite him not being there.

Javier is a good man to you. Maybe he could be better. Maybe he’s not good enough.  

He stands in the doorway of your shared bedroom with a soft, gentle grin. There’s no question he’s behaving a worse man than he is. Than he ought to be. 

He’s quiet as he shuts the door, balancing his weight to remain noiseless. 

Javier doesn’t particularly like being all the way out in Saint Denis nor is he fond of intel missions. The city is loud, the people unfriendly - though he likes the music and art. He prefers staying in camp if he can help it, but this big bank heist has everyone busy. He’s at least thankful that it’s given him an excuse to be with you. Your knowledge of herbs and poisons and the like have been helpful to gathering information. Been a lot of slipping things in drinks and making people forget. The sort of dirty work he’s accustomed too, while also getting a chance to be with you in a place with four walls and a bath. A dream for the future, maybe. 

It’s been nice, but he’s been out now for two days - out in the streets gathering information about Bronte’s people. A bunch of lowlifes just like them, but with their hands in the pocket of the city. He’s only been gone for two days, so there’s no reason you should miss him this much. And yet he hears it anyway. And it pleases him, truthfully. 

He takes off his coat as he listens to you at the doorway. Shrugs the middle-weight material of his sheen suit jacket over his shoulders and lays it on a chair, takes off his wingtip-gaiter shoes, undoes the yellow puff tie from around his neck. Nothing but a white linen dress shirt and the dark black slacks he’s been wearing for days now, some parts covered in bloodstains he only barely managed to wash out in the river not long ago. 

He’s thankful he took a bath before getting in now, listening to you moan. His hands being clean feel like a blessing - just his luck. 

He manages to remain quiet as he steps into the main room - a single bed in the center. Javier finds you there in a heap as he rests his body along the wall of the entrance to his right. He crosses his arms over his chest as he takes a minute to take in the scenery, admiring the soft lowlights and the way they cast shadow on your body. 

The wooden bed frame creaks slightly as you rut your hips. You’re out of it, Javier can tell, since you’ve yet to sense the fact he’s come in. The paintings along the back wall click against soft red walls themselves, over and over in an arrhythmic tic. Javier tries not to laugh. Gives himself a minute to admire the moment for what it is, the vulnerable desperation of your lust. He has to get over the disbelief, too. Over the fact your face is buried in the open part of his bluecoat and that you’ve got a hotel pillow(his hotel pillow) between your legs. One that you’re humping so frantically he can’t help but feel sorry for you. 

You’re making a mess.

You are a mess. The way the white chemise falls over your back and hips, and the lack of finesse in your gestures. If Javier had to bet money on it - he’d bet money on the fact you probably didn’t start this way. He figures you nested with his coat and pillow to go to sleep and then worked yourself into something senseless and desperate. And he’d figure if he didn’t show up, you wouldn’t cum at all. You’d go to bed all frustrated and tired and just wait for him like always. 

Any man would be pleased by it, he thinks. And a good one would never embarrass you about it. Javier tries his best. Weighs his options, but the words slip from his mouth before he can think to stop them. 

Pure elation in his words wrapped up in a smug delight. “Aye, hermosa - you’re gonna ruin my things you know?” 

Your reaction is what he expects. You jump out of your skin first, sitting straight up. Javier bites back a laugh as you do, big wide eyes like a deer caught in the scope of a rifle. You look around the room, worried you’re imagining him. Once you’ve come back to reality enough to realize he’s real and tangible - all the neediness washes right back into your expression. 

“Javier,” You sniffle and god. Javier hopes the heavens are more merciful to him than he is to you. “Javi,” 

“I’m home,” He voices in a partial tease, walking towards you. He can tell you want to run to him. To crawl into his arms and lap and collapse there forever, but the dull throbbing between your legs is stopping you. “I would ask if you missed me but, somehow I get the feeling you did.” 

You let out a soft, sniffly whine as Javier sits in the bed next to you. He turns his body to face you a little better but keeps distance. You turn your face towards him. Javier cups your cheek in his palm, eyes tracing your features. Your lips are bruised like you’ve been biting on them to keep the noise down and your eyes are wet with tears, red stained in the waterline. His thumb brushes along the thin skin of your lower lip, clicking his teeth at you. 

“Look at you,” He reprimands, his voice tender as he leans in to give you a little relief. You kiss Javier too eagerly, impatient and lacking your usual timidness. It’s how he knows how far you’ve fallen. How simple and easy your reactions are. “You’re going to hurt yourself pushing so desperately,” He laughs again, a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Does it feel good, at least?” 

“It’s better when you do it,” You admit, falling forward. Javier doesn’t let you drop, but he doesn’t comfort you right away either. He laughs and lets a hand rest on your lower back, relishing in your reaction. You shiver, sensitive and overstimulated with so little at all. 

“I know,” He coos with as much faux-sympathy as he can manage. “Couldn’t wait for me a little longer? I’m hurt.”

“Nooo,” You draw the words out, pitiful and upset “I’m sorry. I missed you,” 

“It’s okay,” Javier says, knowing he wasn’t mad in the first place. Not even a little. “Ahh, what should I do with you now, do you think?” 

It’s hard not to laugh at the immediate noise of disapproval. He’s sure you’d be able to ask him for what you want if he coaxed you into it. One whispered word of tell me what you want, and you’d be begging for his cock with ease. Filthy words from such a pretty mouth, he likes the idea. 

But he’s feeling… something. Something on the border of sadistic and loving that has him instead thinking. 

Pretending to think. 

“Maybe you should keep going, hm? You’ll think clearer once you’ve let it out, don’t you think?” 

“I can’t,” You bemoan, pleading with him. “I’m trying but it’s—it’s not enough, Javier, please.” 

He shakes his head. “Oh, man. What am I gonna do with you? Should I help you, mi amor?” 

You nod your head rapidly. As if he’d ever leave you out to dry when you look all pretty helpless. He doesn’t mention it to you. “Please,” 

“Yeah? I’ll help you then.” He offers, taking your hand and guiding you to his lap with his legs stretched out. He sits you over his thighs, glancing back at his jacket and pillow, brows raised when he sees how sticky they both are. Your habit of drooling and your cunt soaking his pillow case, he laughs just a little seeing the state of them. You must notice because you hit his shoulders weakly. “So needy,” 

“Javier.” 

“Alright, alright,” He laughs again, kissing your cheek as he brings you to him. You frown but comply with his handling of you, strong hands pulling you over his thigh. He sits you down until your bare cunt is pressed against the clothed muscle. It dawns on you what he’s doing as he’s doing it, a noisy little whimper sounding as Javier pulls you close. Close enough to wrap your arms around his neck. He puts a hand on the back of your head, encouraging you to bury his face into the space of his shoulder. He can feel the relief in you when you do, slumping into him a second time today. “You have to move on your own, you know? I won’t help you.” 

“You’re being awful,” You say with no real malice or bite. 

“I’m a little hurt, that’s all. And I’m helping you aren’t I? Is that not what you want?” 

You groan against the skin of his neck. “I want your…ngh,” 

He hums against you, decides to be merciful since he’s teased you plenty and he’s going to tease you more. 

“Wanna feel me right here, don’t you?” He puts a hand between your bodies, pressing the back of his hand into your stomach. “I know, I know. But I want you to cum like this first.”

“Can’t do it by myself,” You sniffle. Don’t even try to push back, so obedient and willing. Javier hums sympathetically. 

“I’m here right? I’ll help you, mi vida. I’m not that mean, am I?” 

You shake your head no. He most definitely is, but maybe he can keep that a secret from you a little longer. 

“Here,” He says. Javier pulls your chemise up until it’s pooling at your waist. Strong, tan hands hold at your hips, squeezing the soft skin with a warm sigh. You keen immediately. He pushes his thigh up just slightly to give you the right kind of friction. Hiccuping in his lap, he sets a pace for you to grind yourself on him. A slower back and forth. When you get too wet, too needy - you get sloppy. Sometimes he can give it to you hard and fast but you’re sensitive. Sensitive to the point it’s easy to make you hurt, make yourself hurt if you’re too clumsy. 

You’re always chasing pleasure but you don’t know anything about build-up. For a girl who tends to keep to herself and is always so meticulous - there’s something about seeing you get so sloppy that turns Javier on. When you’re wet and can’t think straight “Not too fast, okay? You’re sensitive, need it slow at first to make it feel good if it’s like this. Did you forget?” 

You nod, then moan hotly against his throat. Javier shivers at the way your tune changes. He can feel you breathe in his scent and relax as he guides your hips. He eventually stops touching you. Lets you take control of the pace just like he shows you. You manage to pace yourself despite how much you want to cum. Javier can feel how pent up you are. The fabric of his slacks going sticky, tacky from cum and arousal. 

You smell nice and soft, like baby powder and something floral. 

Javier’s been hard since he got in the door, but it’s starting to fog his mind up. Feeling your tits press against his chest, feeling your skin against his. Soft and pliant and beautiful. He kisses against your shoulders as you slowly start to build your orgasm up again. Not that it’s hard. 

You pull away from him, briefly - and your face makes his dick twitch. You’re always pretty but you’re especially pretty like this. Drool drips from the corners of your mouth, eyes lidded and barely blinking.

“Javi,” Your words are slurred. Javier laughs but doesn’t clean you up. “Kiss me,” 

“Sure,” He replies, though he’s all too happy to do it. Javier kisses you with tongue. He knows it’s what you want. Your hands curl up at his chest as he brings his own to cup your head and pull you to him. His tongue in your mouth is invasive but precise, knowing all the ways you want him to nip and kiss and suck on your mouth. You whine in complete pleasure, drunk from the sensation and he’s hardly touched you at all. 

He thinks of how he’ll fuck you as he kisses you. He’ll touch you more than he is now and you’ll fuck like lovesick rabbits until sunrise. It’s less something Javier decides and more something he knows. Like once he opens the door to pleasing you like this, it’ll be tough on him to close it again. 

“Javi,” You keep calling his name. It might be the only word you remember. Always seems to be when you get like this. “It feels so good. Feels so good when you touch me,” 

Javier kisses against your bare shoulder and neck, teeth scraping soft against your clavicles. “Mm. You’re doing well. A very good girl today,” 

You shudder at the praise, all the hairs on your neck raising from the drop of it. Javier laughs. You whine his name again but he doesn’t reply. He can feel you more than he can see you. Your body is twitching against his thigh and your muscles are tight where you hug against him. Javier calms you. 

“Gonna cum soon, huh?” 

You nod over and over, but can barely keep your head up to do it. And he laughs, full of fondness and affection as he peppers your face with kisses. He doesn’t have it in him suddenly, to tease you about it any more. He encourages you instead, hand on your hips to give you more friction as you start to grow erratic in your breathing. You pant hard against his ear, like you’re chasing something. Little bunny rabbit, he thinks. Your voice is little more than a croak. 

“Oh,” You moan, loud and helpless and needy as you cling to him. Your hands fisted in the back of his shirt as you cry out his name one more time. A prayer, maybe. Or a curse. Something in between. “Javier, oh,” 

“Shhh, that’s it. Just like that. Good girl. You’re so good to me.” 

You weep into his neck as you cum, your whole body tightening before breaking out into aroused shakes. You’ve completely lost it in front of him. On the brink of insanity with nothing but pleasure filling your empty-head. You hump against him thoughtlessly as you ride out your high, then finally lean against him when you’ve managed to reach the end of it. You don’t move. Javier can feel how big the wet patch of his pants has grown and tries not to laugh. 

You’re only barely coherent when you’ve finally pulled away. Your pupils are blown out and your face is flushed, sweat making your hair stick to your skin in the places it’s not tucked away. Javier laughs at the state you’re in, brushing his thumb along your cheek just beneath your eyes. 

“Are you with me still, do you think?” 

You nod, seemingly exhausted. He laughs again and kisses your temple. 

“Want you,” You say, despite your state. His eyes widen again at how soon after you’re asking him. He was planning on taking his time, but that plan might just be out of the race. He’s not above you begging him so sweetly. “Please, Javi. Need you, need you so bad.” 

You sound like you’re about to cry. He speaks in soft murmurs. “I thought you’d be too tired to keep going right away.” 

“No,” You mumble and shake your head. “Please. Please, want you so bad.” 

“You’re exhausted, mi vida.” 

“Please,” 

He chuckles. “Okay. Okay, don’t cry. Whatever you want, remember. Unbutton my shirt for me, mi amor.” 

You sniffle, your hands shaking as you fulfill his request. You’re exceptional at listening. Javier smiles at you, your eyes meeting as you do. You flush and pout, only barely managing to maintain his gaze without looking away. You unbutton his shirt dutifully. He puts a hand on your arm and rubs it soothingly. “You must’ve missed me a lot, huh.” 

You nod. “It’s bad, you know? Two days shouldn’t feel so long. It didn’t use too.” 

“Just means we love each other,” Javier assures, a safe place for you to express your neediness. “That’s nothing bad,” 

You nod, pressing your forehead to his. “That’s true,” 

“See? And it’s nice you know. Having someone miss me. Wait for me. Makes me want to come home instead of, I don’t know.” He feels his throat tighten at the sincerity but pushes through anyway “Dying for the cause. Or even just because.” 

It’s the first time you’ve smiled all day and god. Might be the only thing that’s ever mattered. Above all forms of love prior and past. Above revolution. Above god. Just you. You smile, happy and elated and keep unbuttoning his shirt with a coquettish-ness to you. Comfortable and safe. 

You help Javier out of his shirt, and wait for his approval to go after his pants. Undoing the buttons, you free his cock from the confines with a soft gasp. Javier laughs at the reaction, cat-like grin on his features. 

“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”  

“It’s so big,” You say, your hand wrapping around it briefly. Javier swears, head against the headboard. 

“Careful,” He warns, laughing thickly. “I’m pretty pent up too,” 

“Want it inside me,” You say so easily it startles him. You blink up at him through your lashes, too pretty for your own good. “Please?” 

“Should open you up a little.” 

“Want it to hurt,” You reply instantly. Javier feels his breath hitch. 

“Oh, fuck.” He breathes, trying to keep himself from cumming in your hands. “We’ll go slow.”

You nod quickly, not wanting to wait any longer. Javier curses himself for not being more polite. 

He guides your arms around his neck, his own arm around your waist as he lays you down on your back. You look up at him, surprised by his handling of you but not upset by it all. You mumble something he doesn’t catch, but it sounds pleased. 

Javier finds that he’s fond of missionary. He didn’t think he was the type, but there’s something about seeing you laid on your back that he likes. Likes being able to look at you and be close to you, to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you curl into him. He lays you down gently on his spine, laughing at the way your legs wrap around his waist the second you’re comfortable. His hands go up under your knees but don’t push you too far. You spread your legs for him naturally, eyes fluttering with exhaustion and leftover stupid want. He looks down at you and smiles. 

“One more, okay? Just the one.” 

“I can’t,” You whine “Too sensitive. Just want you to cum on me,” 

“Are you doubting me?” He challenges, only partially. Your eyes widen and he chuckles. “Of course you can. One more,” 

You whimper, suddenly realizing you had no choice in the first place. But you nod, relenting to him like you so often do. Javier kisses you. It means more things that he’s comfortable telling. Means thank you, and that he’s sorry, that he loves you. He kisses you one more time after that, and smiles at how happy you seem because of it.

Finally, when Javier lays you down on the sheets beneath you - it feels like finding religion all over again. The loose material of your chemise has given up on covering you, exposing the soft mound of your chest and hardened nipples. He can see your neck and shoulders and everything else above and below. You’re so beautiful his cock twitches again, hard. 

He sits back up on his knees and takes a deep breath as he lays his cock against your puffy folds. You breathe soft, an aching sound from the back of your throat as you pull your skirt up to give him better access. He laughs gently at that, examining how nearly seven inches measures up to you and feels a little dizzy in the process of it. He’s done this with you so many times now, practically trained your body to take him without too much trouble. A welcome change from when you could barely fit the tip, too inexperienced to do it but even more determined. 

Even still some part of him worries about it. It’s not enough to stop him though, not nearly. His cock twitches against hard, wanting for you. He looks down at you and sees you stare up, admiring his figure. He laughs. 

“Like the view?” 

You nod. “Mm. Uh-huh.” 

“I’m glad,” He replies, then adds “Deep breath,” 

So you take a deep breath, and Javier pushes the tip of his cock into you with a loud grunt. You’re so soft. Wet, and pliant and soft around the swollen head of his cock, he can’t help but shudder with relief and desire. Can’t help but grit his teeth and grip onto your hips to steady himself. 

You breathe like the air has been punched out of your lungs, saying his name dreamily. “Oh, Javi,” 

He swears under his breath, something incoherent as he pushes the tip push into you evenly. It’s not easy. The resistance is there, but you don’t whine in pain right way - so it means it’s not too hard on you. Perhaps loosened by the previous orgasm, or simply so needy that it doesn’t bug you. Still, Javier makes sure to keep himself tight. He rocks, back and forth, ignoring the agony of that sensation to keep him from thrusting up into your soft, welcoming cunt. If he listened to what he wanted, he can’t be confident it wouldn’t make you ache. He already knows you will with this much. 

It takes a few minutes, and some whimpering from you before he finally manages to bottom out. 

You feel good. God, you feel good. 

He can’t imagine heaven, but he thinks being inside of you might be close enough. There’s certainly all the makings of religion when he makes love to you. You, a soft and loving deity, and him - a man laden with sin who longs to be saved. It makes sense to compare you that way. And it feels just as euphoric as the always described, being wrapped in you. Being part of your completion. What's religion without worshippers, anyway? 

Javier groans as he bottoms out inside of. When he manages to peel his eyes open and look at you, you’re debauched. He’s debased you this completely and he doesn’t know if you can even tell. He laughs, leaning down to kiss your neck and run pecks against your jaw. 

“Feel good?” 

“Feels so good,” You moan, then hold him tighter. “I love you. Love you Javier,” 

“Me too, mi amor. Para siempre. ” He hums, kissing your forehead before looking at you. “Can I move?” 

“Please,” 

“Touch yourself for me,” He tells you patiently. “Make yourself feel good.” 

You nod, dazed - a hand between your bodies as Javier sets a pace to fuck you. He knows you in and out. At least well enough to know exactly the ways to make you feel good. Only a few thrusts for him to find the perfect pace, perfect rhythm, perfect spot. You make a noise like a songbird, deep in the back of your throat and Javier can feel you pulse around him in pleasure. 

You stay like that, with him. Javier fucks you to his hearts content in deep, long thrusts - angled against the softest parts of you and wanting to make you feel good. He whispers sweet nothings as your nails dig into the muscle of his back. You feel good for him. You are good for him, wet and perfect. It takes all of his strength to fuck you consistently, the bed rocking underneath you both as he gives it to you hard. 

“I’m close,” You whimper, not seeming to believe yourself despite. “I’m so close, oh god, Javier.” 

“That’s it,” He whispers, chuckling against your skin “One more. Just one more and I’ll give it to you.” 

It’s the promise of his cum that drives you over the edge. You gasp and groan, shuddering as Javier pounds you through your second orgasms. He groans as he feels your pussy spasm and tighten around him, practically begging him to put it inside. He’s nearly lost his sense enough to do it, unhelped by the way your sweet voice begs him for it. He practically has to pry himself away from you, out of you to keep himself from cumming inside as deep as he can possibly go. 

He manages, barely, to stave off his own orgasm. Long enough pull himself out of you with a broken gasp and cum outside of you. Making a mess of your stomach and your soft, swollen cunt with his seed. He paints you in thick ropes of whites as he swears loud in the process, euphoria rumbling through him uninterrupted. 

“Fuck,” He moans, finally getting to the end of it. A little embarrassed by how much of a mess he’s made right along with you. “You do something crazy to me, you know that?” 

You stare at him, bleary eyed and giggly despite your exhaustion. “I know. Me too. I missed you,” 

He laughs, and can’t find the words to say anything but the same back. Of course Javier is a worse man when you’re around. 

Any man loved this much is bound to be a little ruined. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#javier escuella x reader #javier escuella smut #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 smut #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 smut #rogues love letters

[luvingshidou]

I have read your blue lock x ballerina!reader

I loved it, I have a request Can you do blue lock x skating on ice reader

Like they were sitting with y/n in the living room and watching TV, But y/n She was scroll on her phone She didn't notice that her performance was playing on the TV

(Imagine the rest <3)

maybe: michael kaiser, rin itoshi, sea itoshi, any other character you want👀

OFCCCC ANONNNN🫶🫶🫶

DAZZLED

bllk boys x fem! ice skater reader

established relationship

THANK U ANONNN😘😘🤭🤭

probs ooc

characters: michael kaiser, rin itoshi, sae itoshi

MICHAEL KAISER

You and Michael were both in your living room. You were busy typing an essay on your laptop while Michael was skipping through the channels and landed on a sports channel that was broadcasting a show from last week. When you looked up at the TV, you saw yourself in the middle of your performance.

Fuck.

How are you going to explain this???

"N/N??? You never told me you did ice skating." Michael says, still looking at your performance, a slight smirk on his face.

"Look— you probably have better things to be doing than watching me perform." You say, trying to explain my you never told Michael. Hearing this made his smirk grow wider.

"Me??? Nah, I wouldn't want to miss my angles, especially when she looks so elegant."

RIN ITOSHI

You and Rin were on the couching cuddling together. Rin was mindlessly flicking through sports channels while you were on your phone. While flicking through the channels, a particular one caught his eye. It was highlight of you and one of your performances from a month ago. You didn't notice until you heard your voice, making you look up at the TV cringing slightly.

"Fuck." You muttered under you breath.

"N/N, why haven't you told me about this???" Rin says, his eyes boring into yours.

"Well, I kinda just forgot to tell and was nervous cause you might think it stupid and—" You say, starting to ramble on about why you kept your hobby a secret.

"Y/N, you know I wouldn't do that." Rin says, his voice quite soft. "I'd be up in the stands anytime I get, just so I can see you, love."

SAE ITOSHI

Sae was in the living room watching TV after coming home from practice he was pretty tired, so you allowed him to rest on the couch while you made dinner for the both of you. Something you didn't know was that Sae was currently watching one of your stellar performances on the TV while you were making food, blissfully unaware of what was happening in the other room.

When you were finally done, you walked to the living to tell Sae dinner was ready, but as soon as you saw yourself on the TV, your heart sank. You've kept this a secret from him for so long how you were gonna explain this to him.

"Baby, you know you're actually quite good, better than I thought. But, why haven't you told me about this, huh???" Sae murmurs, looking at you, as stood there frozen.

"Well, ahm— I uhm—" You slurred out, trying to think of an excuse, but you were drawing a blank.

"Well, I guess that doesn't matter anymore." Sae says, smirking ever so slightly. "Next time, bring me, yeah???"

(SOZZZ FOR THE SLOW UPDATE I BEEN VERY VERY BUSY BUT I WILL BE POSTING MORE SOON HOPEFULLY)

#post!! #bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk michael kaiser #bllk kaiser #bllk rin #bllk sae #michael kaiser #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #rin x reader #sae x reader #bllk fluff #I SHOULD BE POSTING MORE SOON🤞🤞🤞

[jordanelemus]

ybc musical costume in-depth analysis! 💥🎸🎱

hi! I'm jordan, the costume designer (and also an actor and co-writer) of "the young blood chronicles" musical! i posted this on instagram, but i thought it might be cool to post it here too!

my initial role in “the young blood chronicles” musical was costume design, which, as a fashion enthusiast, i was incredibly excited about. i spent about a month curating a huge pinterest board collection and creating individual moodboards. the show takes place in 2013, but i wanted to take inspiration from both pre and post-hiatus fall out boy looks! here’s an in-depth look :’)

patrick’s main inspo was his “soul punk” era, which lives distinctly in the hiatus. i wanted something that would remind us that years had passed since the last time the band had made music together; something cool and trendy, but a little too dressed up for a long day in the studio. even when not onstage, ybc patrick is performing. clothes can give you power and he knows that. the yellow sunglasses were our way of getting around patrick’s glowing yellow eyes from the music videos, but i really love how it makes it seem like he has a mask on. it makes the end of “miss missing you” even more heartbreaking.

pete’s main inspo came from both his early clandestine drops as well as his more androgynous looks (both pre & post-hiatus). pete really cares about fashion, but he still has a chill la vibe. 2013 pete could often veer more edgy, but i chose to move in a different direction in order to better distinguish pete and patrick’s styles. unless you’re a vixen or patrick, you don’t get a leather jacket! sorry pete! to me, pete’s fashion has always felt so current while still being forward-thinking. ybc pete’s outfit could be from 2006 or 2024 and that was very purposeful!

andy’s looks are mostly pulled from more recent years, but band tees never go out of style. the mesh top under the tee alludes to his tattoos, which make up the extent of his stage looks these days since he typically does shows without a shirt on. celia had this mesh top in her closet and i love the colors on her (it’s the only source of color in the heaven outfits!). andy’s outfit is maybe the simplest of the four on paper, but i think it’s sick. it’s laid back, but super specific and grounded. it makes me want to start wearing basketball shorts.

joe’s looks are pulled from both pre-hiatus and early post-hiatus looks! striped sweaters & cargo pants are things he’s worn before, so i'm lucky i had them in my closet (especially since i wasn’t originally joe!). joe, especially in recent years, really likes wearing dark colors onstage, but, similar to how i avoided leather jackets for pete, i wanted to very clearly differentiate the boys from the vixens. any black piece of clothing on any of the boys had to be broken up with a design or pattern. no all black outfits! sorry joe!

the goal with the heaven outfits was to make the exact same outfits in all white. i wanted the exact same silhouettes as before. i’d say we were pretty successful! we got really lucky when it came to finding these costume pieces.

my vixens! these costumes were a lot more nebulous throughout the process. many of the costume pieces came from the actors’ own wardrobes. it was really important to me that each vixen had her own distinct style. baylee’s vixen (whom she named blair) has a more feminine style, her main costume piece being a lacy leotard. she's sweet with an edge. ava’s vixen is second-in-command & her outfit really screams that. the lingerie top is so killer. alexa’s vixen is almost a mix of baylee’s & ava’s in terms of style. the outfit is sweet, but edgy with the ripped tights & lingerie-style top. lauren’s vixen is a little more utilitarian, actually dressed in a way that makes sense for kidnapping four people. she’s more sporty than the others, but her combat boots are incredibly threatening. hbic is all that and more. her outfit is simple, but powerful. she is terrifying.

tiffany had to feel a bit like an outsider. she’s wearing the vixen clothes, but her jacket has some color on it. it’s a little too big on her. the other vixens really live in & embody their clothes, but for tiffany, it's a bit more like a costume.

here’s how i describe the angels: 1) the hottest girls at the ren faire & 2) like that picture of the angel guiding the two kids that every latine family has in their house. they almost feel out of place; so incredibly fluid in a show that is mostly made up of harsh lines. texture and layers were really the name of the game here, but the angels still have an edge to them. to quote fob: “…angels choking on their halos, get them drunk on rose water. see how dirty i can get them, pullin' out their fragile teeth & clip their tiny wings.”

+ i made pete’s bass machete and tiffany’s/joe’s guitar axe! i don’t have much to say about them, but i loved getting to utilize my cosplay foam skills.

this was my first time ever costuming a show and it was such a dream. the entire cast was so willing to experiment with me and it was such a joy to revisit aspects of 2013 fashion, which i remember from my preteen years, but never got to truly participate in! :’)

- jordan <3

ig: @/jordanelemus

photos: @/cararittner on ig!

#ybc musical #young blood chronicles #fall out boy #save rock and roll #musicals #musical theater #patrick stump #pete wentz #andy hurley #joe trohman #i love fall out boy literally so much #ybc #costume design #theatre #fob

[skepsiss]

I’ve been thinking a lot about Eddie seeing the patches from his old vest onto a new less ruined one after I made that post about his PT—so my prompt for you is Steve helping Eddie resew his new vest (but he’s not really helping he’s just kind of there for kisses and emotional support hehe)

I took a little more into the "actually helping" realm, but it's still fluffy sweet. Other people can send me prrrommmppptts too! --

Eddie had never done something like this with someone else before. Sewing his ripped jeans, bags, and battle-vest had been a solo venture thus far, but it felt strangely intimate to be getting help with his new vest. The old one wasn't salvageable, but Eddie had managed to save some of the patches and pins to start again. This wasn't his first battle vest, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but he had hoped to hang onto his old denim. It wasn't to be though, so Eddie had thrifted a second (or third) hand denim jacket and ripped the sleeves off to start all over again.

"What's this one?" Steve asked, handing over a pin Eddie had gotten from hanging outside a metal show he couldn't get tickets for.

"Bad Brains," Eddie explained, taking the yellow button and running a thumb over the red lightning bolt that streaked across the front. "From New York, I think. I traded for it; no one really plays their stuff on the radio."

Steve nodded like he was going to retain any of that as Eddie debated over where to stick the pin. He settled on the front right pocket and then turned the vest over.

"You want to help sew the back patch?" Eddie asked, grabbing the swath of fabric he had cut from an old band-T. He hadn't been able to get the blood out of his old DIO patch, and while 'the bloody look' was cool, something about it made Eddie squirm. He didn't like that it was Steve's blood, or that the stain had made part of the album art unreadable.

So, DIO was retired, and Eddie instead centred his new Megadeth patch on the back of his vest.

Eddie handed over a needle and thread to Steve and then cut himself his own length. He strung the needle easily and tied it off before setting to work. Steve seemed to be taking his sweet time, and Eddie eventually glanced at him to see what the hold up was.

Steve was still gingerly trying to thread the needle, his brows pinched with frustration.

Eddie snorted lightly before turning the vest around so it was facing Steve.

"Here, you continue my line, and I'll finish this," Eddie teased gently, finding Steve's inability to thread a needle charming.

"Is it too late to say I've never done this before?" Steve asked, picking up the needle and thread Eddie had left behind and stabbing into the fabric.

"I can tell," Eddie chuckled, easily starting to work again. "You don't have to, you know. I don't mind just having some company."

"No, it's alright," Steve said slowly, obviously concentrating as he tried to stick the needle up through the patch. "What're boyfriend for?"

Eddie felt a syrupy smile spread across his face at Steve's words, his stomach tumbling around inside of him. He was still getting used to Steve calling them 'boyfriends' and Eddie couldn't help how giddy it made him each time. Sure, it had been nearly a month, but it still made Eddie feel like he was a blushing fifteen-year-old.

"If you insist… love," Eddie said, keeping his gaze down. He was trying out a new pet-name and he wasn't really sure if it was pushing things a bit too far. Love or My Love was such an intimate title, but Eddie had been thinking of it for a while now. He saw Steve pause at the use of the new nickname though, and waited for him to say something.

"Ow---Jesus," Steve said instead, and Eddie looked up to see him holding his hand up, a ruby-red bead of blood forming on his finger.

"Ah…" Eddie said lamely, smiling still as he reached over for Steve's hand. "Sticking yourself hurts."

"Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious," Steve bitched, letting Eddie take his hand.

"I thought you'd be a bit more durable… you know, with the whole… missing a chunk of your stomach, thing," Eddie teased gently, putting his lips to the wound on Steve's finger much the same way his mother would have when he was a child.

Steve didn't reply to Eddie's comment, instead sitting there quietly and letting Eddie suck on the tip of his finger.

"You want a band-aid?" Eddie asked, pulling back just a bit and then cheekily pressing his tongue against Steve's finger, holding it there with his mouth open.

"Yeah, a band-aid----what are you doing? Don't be weird," Steve chuckled, still not resisting Eddie's grip.

Eddie quirked a brow at him and pulled back, before huffing a laugh.

"Look who you're talking to. Weird is practically stamped on my forehead," he scolded, before licking Steve's finger again for good measure.

"Alright, alright, fair. We get it, Count Dracula, can we grab that band-aid?"

Eddie chuckled again and then scrambled to his feet, trotting off toward the bathroom, but not before turning around and sticking his fingers in front of his lips to replicate fangs.

"I vant---to suck yer ddiiiiccck," he teased, smiling wide when he got an honest belly laugh from Steve.

#my_writing #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things

[etoilesbienne]

I don't know how to deal with the situation anymore, on one hand I understand everyone having hope and looking forward to the server repairing, really I do, but like... I feel like every update makes me feel more and more bleak for the communication issues. I'd like to say I feel reassured when a CC comes and says "well things are being fixed up and the admins I talked to are saying it's going great," but I just don't anymore, especially when I go look at one of the said admins public twitter, and they're liking tweets talking about how everyone leaving the company and exposing the way they were treated were just "ungrateful petty pieces of shit," and like... I don't feel comforted, I feel frustrated and like no one is talking to the admins who got ousted even more. Am I supposed to just smile and nod through the fact a language is just gone from the server? Why were we expendable... Why am I supposed to know you "support the admins" because you posted once in support of them a month ago but you proceeded to go on a tirade about how useless and liars all of the now out admins are over a week. I don't know. I don't think we know everything behind the scenes. Everything feels so weird. I just want the admins who got ousted to be okay and know their part of the server meant something to me. I don't know the answer and I doubt I ever will but this last year was a delight. I don't think it could've been the same without every former admin like Léa or Ana or Lumi or Shade or Dianna or Amz3t or Rainylour or Pancks or any of the update admins who kept me up on new content or all of the coders on the backend making websites like qsmp.tv usable and the purgatory website and the elections website and the cool ARG website or all of the builders in game who made events really shine or any of the unnamed many many more admins and people who worked so hard to make the project work so well despite all of the conditions. Like the server with any of these removed is hard to imagine and I still don't think I can fully believe it.

#discourse #neg #crit #fandom crit #fandom neg #qadmin situation