#* jo ; v ; childhood

[blcssom]

closed starter for @tcrnished + open m/f/nb based on: spotify starter call

emma met a boy with eyes like a man // turns out her heart fits right in the palm of his hand // now he'll be her shelter when it rains // little does he know his whole world's about to change - when emma falls in love || taylor swift

it's a convenient time for her date to excuse himself to the bar for another round of drinks, giving el time to slide up to their side in the booth, arm looping through theirs affectionately. "so?? what'd you think? he's so nice, right?"

[fals3nd]

❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜ (meg to jo?)

a huff of breath flies from her as jo slumps face-first into the sheets. "it's unsalvageable, meg," she whines into the covers, arms straight by her sides - - - the pose makes her look like an abandoned ragdoll, slumped there, "there's no use in trying." the hair is shorn short and it's neat enough at the ends but there is no doubt that it's a far cry from the gloriously long curls jo had had before. not that she regrets or begrudges selling it ; marmee being with father is far more important, even if stubborn old aunt march had decided to give in the same day jo decided to do something about it.

"i ought to just dress like a boy until it grows back to avoid being a laughingstock."

[journen]

do you have a list of good CoD fanfics, or favorite writers in general?? <3

Presented in no particular order, here are some of my personal faves / fics I really enjoyed, and my own summaries for them. Hopefully you enjoy, thanks for the ask, anon!!!

I didn't tag all the authors because I'm not sure if they all have tumblrs, but also I'm shy tagging people ahjdfhkaheje. If any authors here are mentioned tho and you have a tumblr, feel free to lmk and I can update this post to include your tag!!:)

Anything rated mature I colour coded the name in red, and anything explicit green. Not all the mature fics feature smut, but yeah! I didn't want to link anything tooooo explicit here, but if anyone wants any, I can definitely rb this post to add a few more 😅

Also, just beware the tags on any of these fics because some feature kind of heavy subject matter. 👍

COF FIC REC LIST:

A Very MacTavish Christmas - @m3rrywe4ther

Prob my fav fic in the fandom lololol. HUGE RECCOMMEND. It's about Johnny who gets roped into spending the holiday Christmas season with his , for the most part, very not so nice family, and Simon accompanies him. So much stuff happens in this fic and it's such a great character exploration of Simon and Johnny independently, but also as a couple, and just so much stuff happens in it lol again, HUGE RECOMMEND!!!

We'll make Death Proud to Take us - Literal_Satan

Fic where, it starts off really sweet where Simon goes to Scotland with Johnny to spend Christmas with him and his family, but things take a drastic turn when Soap's brother, a police officer/detective, gets a little too curious about mysterious Simon, and the story spirals from there. All the guys end up on this crazy goose chase tracking down some of the people who were involved in Roba's brainwashing operations. The fic gets v dark at times and deals with some very heavy trauma so beware, but it's SO. GOOD.

Dream a Little Dream - Angelicasdean

Again, one of my total fav fics in the fandom!! AU where Simon leaves the army to raise his nephew Joseph, who's the sole survivor of the Riley family massacre, and Johnny is one of the daycare teachers at the daycare where Simon takes Jo 🥺🥺👍👍

Pretend to love me like I do - FetteEule

Really cute fic of Simon who accompanied Johnny to Scotland for his sister's wedding, under the ruse they are dating. They are v much pining but not there yet. Features lots of really cute domestic moments and Simon being really sweet to Johnny's kid nephew 😭🧡

Something important - Anonymous

One of the fics that has me totally brainrotted rn. It's about Simon's who's been de-aged to 6 years old, and Price, Gaz and Soap all taking care of him and trying to figure out how he got turned, and how to turn him back! They all get tested on their abilities to care for a child, and unwillingly learn a lot of details about Simon's childhood they never knew. This summary doesn't do it justice tho, so I'd just recommend checking it out! Beware tho again, there is some dark childhood trauma stuff but there are warnings at the start of each chapter that contains references to it.

Seasons - StinglessWasp

In this fic every chapter is set during a different season and tells a unique sort of story/mission/interaction Soap and Ghost have. Definitely some v good angst&hurt/comfort stuffs too. Starts off pre-relationship, and explores their characters a lot! It's just really good HUGE reccommend lol.

What the Eyes Don't see - WhiplashRogue

One of my FAVESSSS! So the premise is like, Soap can actually see ghosts ever since he was a child (which most other people can't see and also don't believe in), and Ghost has 2 spirits attached to him that follow him around(Joseph, and Roach). The fic starts off pre relationship, and it mostly about Soap trying to learn more about these two spirits and discovering more about Ghost's past.

All that's said in the Low Light - Headlocket

Probably one of the most emotional I've ever read LMFAO. It's about Johnny, who receives a back & knee injury bad enough he gets discharged from the army, and is back in Scotland living with his parents as he recovers. He and Ghost lost contact a bit since the accident, and it's sort of a story of them reconnecting. This description doesn't do it justice, just read it, but it will emotionally destroy you lol

Time Loops Suck (series) - Enter_fand0m_reference00

The first installment of the fic takes the idea that Soap is stuck in a time loop during the alone mission! And all the optional dialogues and interactions in thE alone mission are separate attempts of his trying to survive the loops and rendez vous with Ghost. It's just sooo good!! And then there's a follow up fic where it deals with the mental aftermath of the loops and Ghost comforting soap through it, then there's 2 other installments of Simon who instead goes through a time loop! They are such great character explorations in how both Soap and Ghost experience the loops, and I whooleee heartedly reccommend.

Yellow Card - SkerryB

Soccer au fic!! It's so good! Simon is the captain of a soccer team Soap is drafted to as their new goalie. Simon has had a history with Soap before though, that he was the only goalie Simon could never score on! So that's how it starts, and it's just so good from there!! Simon's family are also alive in the fic and his nephew is adorable.

You swept me off my feet - @ghoulishhone

Ghost is down bad for strong Soap, the fic xD This was a fic Ghoulishone and I were paired together to work on for the Ghostsoap server reverse bang! They wrote the fic and I made some accompanying art. Just a cute fic of Soap having to pick up Ghost after he gets injured and some other shenanigans that ensues:)

Dear Mr Ghost - @shortcuts-make-long-delays

SUCH A CUTE FIC!! The majority of the fic is these letter/pen pal exchanges between Ghost, and Soap's young niece Chloe...it's just. So. Good. And was written by a friend of mine too! BIG RECCOMMEND.

Give me Hope and Let me Down - MechanicalBones

Some of the best Ghost whump I read lolll. Ghost is captured by some people with ties to Roba and tortured. Meanwhile Soap is on his way to rescue him, and eventually he does, and there's a lot of hurt and comfort. It's also a getting together fic. 🥺

Unspoken Love - Hammy101

( Super amazing oneshot. I feel I can't do this fic justice with any summary. Just read it. 🥺 It has decent Ghost whump AND domestic off duty cute ghost soap angsty stuff it's just one of my faves ever!!!!)

Except You, You can Stay - Iravaid

Really realistic, believable portrayal and expansion upon a lot of the key events that happen in the Ghost comics. From his childhood, to the mental aftermath of Roba, his family dying...it's heavy but really really good. And has a happier hopeful ending that's Ghost/Soap 🥺

Hat Trick of the Heart and the sequel Family, Gotta Love em - Librarian_FanFicFan

Absolutely am obsessed with these fics!!! It's an AU about Ghost who is recently discharged from the military due to injury, and on a flight back to London where he is seated next to Soap, a famous footballer/soccer player. Ghost doesn't know who he is tho, but they hit it off and exchange numbers. The second installment features Simon's family!!! And Tommy being dramatic and shocked over the fact his brother got the number of this famous sports player... SUPER CUTE IF YOU LIKE RILEY FAMILY STUFF.

As for my fav CoD authors I wholeheartedly recommend anything by:

RedClegane, m3rrywe4ther, Hammy101, TheEdwardianOne, Iravaid, and so many authors but I can't list them all ahaha...but hopefully this is a good start!

Hopefully this helps anon! Sorry it took me a while.

[sleepy-fiction]

Filthy, Dirty, Doktor.

-johan liebert x fem!reader

content warning⚠️ nsfw, smut, masturbation + dual masturbation, cream pie, p in v, uncomfortable power dynamics, sadism, manipulation, porn with plot, happy endings hurray

synopsis‼️johan liebert has been missing for three years since his escape. One day, after a blizzard, you come home from your tireless job as a surgeon to find him frozen half to death after crawling into your home through your window. As the months progress with Johan, he enjoys a new cozy life as a wife-like housemate, supporting your career. The issue arrives when you can't stop masturbating to the idea of Johan, and he can't stop himself from listening.

an: this fic came to me in a dream (lie), and it's entirely self-serving. I biased Johan's character off the little rumor that Johan becomes a fisherman in the countryside after his escape and lives peacefully. If you don't like that, then the fic is not for you.

wordcount: 6.3k

You had been living with Johan for quite some time. You remembered that bitter wintery night when a destructive blizzard had struck Düsseldorf. The blizzard was harsh and violent, predicting to reign over country throughout the week. You had just painted your room hours before you learned of it and childishly you left for work as a surgeon, leaving your window open.

When you came home, you were surprised to find a half-frozen, homeless, scruffy man unconscious on your bed. He ws barely breathing when you found him, with icy skin that pierced you for every touch. You jumped into action to help and ended up nursing the entire week. You learned a lot about the stranger and how his beautiful eyes seemed to twinkle in the moonlight. How, despite his predicament, he still was well, manner, and polite. He told you he was an orphan who was unable to cope after he left the foster system. How he was never able to recover and spent much of his adult life homeless. How he was robbed off everything, how he ran into a bad crowd. You were the same age, but your lives were so different.

You couldn't bring yourself to throw him out. Maybe it was because you saved his life. Without him, he truly would've died.

You were gullible the way you invited him to sleep on your couch for the time being. You had just moved to Germany from the United States, and because of this, most of your home was littered with mess and boxes. It wasn't much of a home for him yet, but it was the least you could do.

Over the months, he began to trust you. You helped him gain his strength and fully recover. You were there when he finally shaved his battered face.

He was an angel before, with his proper way of speaking and his gentle tone. But by God. Once that scruff came off his face, your world had changed. He was incredibly beautiful, with sweet blue eyes and pearlescent whispy lashes. His hair was cut and neat, with a perfect nose with pink lips. Your heart practically stopped in your chest that morning he walked in for breakfast.

That became the issue.

No longer was he the scruffy, sweet, homeless man you were sheltering out of the kindness of your heart. He was handsome and alluring. With a face like that, you couldn't help but shut your thighs together and breathe swallowed breaths.

It wasn't like you didn't see him naked before. You were nursing him, and he was too weak to walk on his own when he first got here. You bathed him, you clothed him, you washed his hair day in and day out. You brushed his teeth, you bonded over childhood pains and cried on his shoulder. You spent nights sleeping next to him-- things you could easily do because you weren't attracted to him.

Yes, sure, even before the change, you agreed he had an attractive personality. But could you blame yourself for not liking the giant blonde beard and the long shaggy hair that touched his shoulders?

But now he was all cleaned up, with hair that caressed his ears, splitting down the middle in a breathy swoop.

Every morning before you went to work, Johan would prepare you a nice hearty breakfast. No matter how many times you told him you didn't want him to worry about you, he always said it was the least he could do. And you couldn't really argue with that, you loved the breakfast and you loved his company.

He started unpacking your home, too, while you were working. He understood that you'd be too busy to take care of the house as an on-call surgeon. You remember the day you started seeing clothes and furniture slowly being rearranged. Johan was perfect. Too perfect, it was frightening for you at timed.

Frightening because you started to feel something.

He was someone you didn't want to lose.

But your body craved him.

You remember that day you were in the shower, trying to stop your hands from plummeting deep within your walls, but you couldn't. The way you'd arch and moan out his name as you rocked against your fingers. The embarrassment that fled you when you orgasmed, and even more so having to face Johan at dinner, trying not to seem suspicious as he told you about his day at home.

You remember how after a year of having him, you got so out of control that you couldn't use your fingers anymore. You bought a few toys to play with, and getting them into the house was so hard too.

Knowing Johan, the sweet housemate that he was, he kept trying to put the "groceries" up for you, and you didn't have the strength to tell him the truth. You kept insisting that it was menstruation hygiene, something he didn't want to see. But he kept going on about how he didn't care about that, it's what you needed.

He was so perfect, like a sweet angel.

Luckily, you were able to hide your new purchases in a locked bin under the sink cabinet, and that night, you got to town feeding your itch.

You fantasized about him. He was a perfect housemate. Would he also be perfect and gentle with you in bed? You imagined that bare body from all those years ago shamefully as you rocked back and forth on the dildo you trapped to the side of the tub. It was incredibly uncomfortable for your legs, but you were so out of your mind that you didn't care.

You could imagine those pale hands drumming up your body to your breasts, gentle peppery kisses lining up your nipples and you'd arch even more, sopping wet down below.

You remember facing him again at dinner that night, hearing how he commented on your long-winded showers. You, being too embarrassed, simply told some fab about how it detoxed you after work, and you watched his careful, icy eyes flicker in curiosity. You gulped, and even now, you can hear the chilling words that fell from his lips, "My. Well… Keep taking those showers, doctor. I'm sure you have a lot of pent-up frustrations from work. It's good to wash it all away and… take care of yourself."

Every part of you felt conflicted about his sultry words. Your brain was convinced that somehow he knew about your daily routine, that he knew what you did in the image of him. Your heartfelt odds about the words, was he inviting you? Was he flirting? That pause he had, he bound to have-- What did he mean by that?

His gaze was narrowed down on you like you were prey. And it was in memory of those hunter eyes that you fucked yourself again at the croak of night, slapping a hand over your mouth to stay quiet. Turning the shower on now would be too suspicious, and the bathroom was right next door to his room.

You couldn't believe yourself, your lack of control. It was disgustingly shameful how your brain twisted his innocent, caring words, his innocent caring eyes to fit some sadistic fantasy you were building up of him.

The truth is, Johan, he was deadly aware of your little playtime. He first noticed it when he went to get something from his room while preparing dinner. When you first started masturbating, you were loud, and the bathroom wall was thinner than you could imagine. In his shock, he pressed his ear against the wall and heard the muffled cry of his name.

He twitched in his pants.

The monster in him was salivating. You had tamed him well. He was loyal to you, grateful to you for saving him (a lot at first, he longed to die). The monster in him respected you-- it needed you at times. You were the only thing that made him calm, and this lovely little life of being a housewife was something he couldn't imagine he'd end up loving.

Him? A runaway killer? Finding delight in wearing the aprons you bought for him and gardening your home to look better for the neighborhood. Mowing your lawn, cleaning your home, unboxing all your stuff, and doing laundry. Sweeping and cleaning became his favorite coping mechanism. It made him feel fully in control and fully zen. You'd take him fishing on the weekends, and whatever you caught together, he'd always cook something lovely and aromatic.

He found he loved orchids, especially the blue ones, and he gardened the front of the house with it. He heard from neighbors the compliments about him, how'd they call him your boyfriend or your lover. You weren't any of those things officially, but for some reason, he liked it.

It was stable.

It was serene.

He felt sort of.

Normal.

So when he found out you, his savior, was lustfully touching herself to him every single damn day, he had mixed emotions.

Fear.

That was his first. He was afraid of himself, afraid of the sudden power he was given over you now. Before, he was in your control, meekly like some little wife tending to your every need (despite your protests). He liked it, when he was powerless, the monster never complained. But now, now he's given some authority and control over you. You could do whatever he wanted all for a little sex.

He wasn't that person anymore.

He wasn't a manipulator.

So out of fear, he wouldn't dare to walk near the bathroom under any circumstances. He didn't ask about your day at first, he couldn't keep himself down enough to see you flush like that. To watch you come up with an excuse or try to forget your playing to remember something else that happened in your day. It gave him too much power, and he didn't know how to handle that burning feeling yet.

But. Your beautiful affirmations about him made him feel vulnerable again. What if he trusted that feeling? What if he explored it? What if he let it take control over him just for a second? You always told him that he could trust his body, that his body is "capable of handling every sensation" he experiences.

So maybe.

When Johan passed by your bathroom while you were at work, he couldn't help but freeze. That burning sensation was back, the monster in him clawing at him. He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. And that burning continued.

He let his darkest fears hold him for a second. And Johan quickly found himself on his knees shifting through your dirty laundry, pumping his pent-up cock into his fists, moaning like an uncontrollable wild man.

It was then he discovered his second emotion about your playtime wasn't fear after all.

Lust.

Upon his discovery, he never realized how heavy his balls had gotten. He spent three years on the run before finding your home by accident, not once did he ever have the time or energy to release himself. And it was like once he opened those floodgates, he couldn't stop the desire that overtook his body. He felt like a predator, looking for any opportunity to extend himself.

Like that one time, you stumbled into his room drunk after a work outing, confessing your dirty sins to him. It was something you long forgot, and it took him all his strength to trap you in your room so you wouldn't do anything stupid.

But man did he spend that whole night playing with himself, replaying your drunken confession over and over. He was so excited to explore this with you, to hear you apologize in the morning, and for him to segway that into a discussion about sex. So he could communicate how he felt. But when the morning came, and his eagerness budded- you had completely forgotten.

Confidence was his third and final emotion.

Johan knew he was beautiful. How else did he survive all those years in hell? He swindled women, he gained the trust of men. He slaughtered.

Yet he noticed how embarrassed he had become and how skittish and secretive he was about masturbating. It was like he was a teenager all over again, pretending to cook food until you got in the shower and then running to his room to touch himself to your sweet voice. He always finished early so he could clean up and rush back to the food. Developed a system where he'd cook before you got there but didn't assemble anything and kept it all separate, which cost him many pans and extra dishes, but it kept the facade up just so he could wank off like a child.

His favorite thing was the nervous conversation you had with him after your shower, too skittish to look him deep in the eyes. That's when his confidence started pouring in. At dinner, he'd be more challenging, more teasing. He'd "accidentally" stroke his foot up your leg to hear you squirm. He'd make more eye contact than usual, watching you bounce around a bit. He'd stop you right before you'd walk into the bathroom to make small talk while your frustrated eyes struggled against his stare.

You thought you were slick, but you weren't.

And he decided he'd test the waters.

"Doctor, you always take such long showers. It's become a large part of our dinner routine." He smiled innocently and watched his prey tense up like a bunny in the stare of a hawk.

"Ah. Aah… Well, it helps me detox." You panted, keeping your eyes down on your plate.

Checkmate.

You were right where he wanted you.

"My." He made his voice low as he burrowed a stare deep into your eyes, "Well… Keep taking those showers, doctor. I'm sure you have a lot of pent-up frustrations from work. It's good to wash it all away and… take care of yourself."

And you practically fell apart for the rest of the night. He watched your shame confusion and fear plague your face while you helped him watch the dishes. And to be extra harmful, he bothered you all night with conversations and small talk, knowing the frustration and confusion that was uncomfortably building in your body. He forced you up late, chatting with a glass of wine until you had to scurry into your room to retire.

His trap was set.

And just as quickly as you disappeared into your room, he disappeared into his and awaited himself on the bed (that he pushed against that wall this morning), cock in hand. Much like how he planned, you couldn't help yourself, and he couldn't help himself either. It was thrilling, the power placed on his shoulders as he heard your moans finally unmuffled by the streaming shower. His cock was extra twitchy and sensitive that day.

It was the chase and hunt of it all that made this so rewarding.

He played cat and mouse with you all week. Always pushing you, making you feel uncontrollable and weak about your growing desire. He pretended to be sick, too weak for dinner, and paraded around the house without his shirt and in some shorts instead of his usual day wear. He made up some excuse as to why he stayed in his pajamas, it cost him too much energy and he was sweating so much. He watched the guilt that panned over your eyes for looking at him so dirty.

He begged you to watch television with him, saying how lonely he was all day just so he could scoot close to you and trap you in his body. The body that he knew you could not handle. You could cut the tension in that room that night like a knife. And after pushing you to stay up late just like before, he waited, once again, for you to play with yourself:

Johan snuck into his room and laid back on the bed, thrill striking through his body. He laid flat on top of his comforter, his pillow cupping his head forward. He had already prepared by leaving a bottle of lotion next to him. His hands pulled down his shorts, an eerie sense of satisfaction and gratification bubbling in his body. His hand scooped up his hardening member, squeezing it a few times to manage his excitement.

You would be heading to the bathroom any minute now.

His eyes widened.

He reached over and sprayed the scentless balm into his hands, working them from his fingers and to his currently dry muscles. Precum leaked from his reddened head.

He heard your door open and his mouth ran dry. "There she goes." He mutters, unable to fight the way his hands moved before his show began.

You were so easy to push. Johan couldn't stop the moan that bullied from his lips, he was too eager. He couldn't calm himself. His hand pumped himself fast, that cold, devilish glare striking his face once again. He couldn't help the self-serving grin that sliced his face open.

By now you were probably inside the bathroom, fishing for the little toys you always--

His doorknob creaked, and a striking gasp fled his lips.

"Johan I -"

You didn't go to the bathroom.

His eyes flew to you in the dark, as the lights from the hallway cast a shadow over you.

For you, you only wanted to remind him to take his medicine. It was true, you cared for his sickness but also you wanted to see him one last time. So when you creaked open his door, you never would've expected such a sight.

There was Johan, laid back comfortably on his bed, cock in hand, head shot forward, with piercing blue eyes that saw right through you. You clenched on air, frozen in shock. Silence filled the air, and after a second of it, he moaned wistfully. A sound that went straight to your ears and down to your wet pussy.

"Oh my gosh!" You half-screamed. You quickly dove behind the door, shutting yourself back in the hallway. "I'm so sorry!" You cried, hands covering your face.

"I should've knocked!" To your horror, the door opened again, and there stood Johan, his face unreadable, threatening, and bland. He stepped out into the hallway, and you looked into his eyes for reassurance, but nothing was there. Confused, cautious, and anxious, you threw yourself away, hitting the other wall. Your thighs clamped shut, and you clenched again and again on nothing.

What was he thinking? This was scary, this was scaring you.

Your hole clenched around nothing again and again and again, begging to be filled.

"Sorry?" He finally said in that cool, collect monotone. "Oh, doctor. You shouldn't be sorry."

"I caught you uh… M-" Despite being a doctor, even you couldn't say it. It was like saying it would make it all the more real.

"Masturbating? You caught me masturbating? Haha. Why, doctor, I didn't take you to be skittish. It's natural, isn't it? Masturbating? It shows that I am healthy." He said, and boy was he right.

He was just throwing that word around and around everywhere. It took everything in you not to whimper, your pussy beginning to drown in dirty slick. A vicious puddle was ruining your underwear.

"Yes but still I'm so sorry I uh…" You didn't know what to say. You were cornered.

"It was a mistake, wasn't it? You weren't trying to peek at me." He said, his head tilting like a wild hare.

You gulped as guilt bound sickeningly in your chest. You were trying to peek, not at him masturbating you didn't know! You were trying to see him before he went to bed, that's why you didn't knock- it was innocent. "I wasn't." You rushed out without thought.

Innocent?

What were you saying? You were peeking for masturbation fuel. You gulped, guilty your eyes couldn't find his.

"Johan I-"

"What brings you?" He asked so kindly, so calm. It only made you feel worse.

"I wanted to make sure you took medicine for your cold." You whispered, but the sound was too soft.

Checkmate.

You felt him step closer. "What was that?" He asked, a cunning grin slicing about his face once more.

"I said I wanted to give you medicine." You said.

"Medicine? But you don't have anything in your hand?" He said.

Your face dropped in horror, your eyes running to Johan's stare. You couldn't think of anything to say.

And that's when he finally won. His cock hardened like a rock, large and proud, and he didn't care if you saw it.

"Doctor, I think you are lying."

Your knees buckle into each other, rubbing your thighs together like a madman. You couldn't stop dripping, your panties were completely soaked by now, and it only made you feel more horrified of yourself.

"I know what you've been doing." He said, and your gasp was soul-sucking. "Every day you touch yourself to me. And then you pretend to be a normal housemate." He was sharp.

"I didn't mean to--"

"You lie to me at dinner time."

"I'm not trying to -"

"Trying to what? Take advantage of me? You know I have nowhere to go, I can't say no to you. Can't you see the power dynamic here?" His hand lay against the wall next to your head, pinning you to the wall as he leaned close to you. "I am at will to you. If I say no to your advances, I could be out of a home. You want me to stay here forever so you can get your pleasure off it, doctor."

You couldn't help the moans that bubbled out of your body, your hips that rocked uncontrollably, your clit that begged for friction, and your little hole that cried for a stretch. Humiliation bounded tears from your eyes.

He was right.

"Johan I'm so--"

"A-Ah… Haa." He moaned, and wildly your eyes found him again.

His eyes shut.

You glanced down.

He was hard.

You glanced up.

His eyes opened.

Slowly the pieces came together in your mind.

Johan could see your gears turning.

He was toying with you. He was getting off to all of the torture he put you through this past year.

You blinked once.

That asshole.

Before you knew it you crashed your lips onto his angrily, muttering out a string of curses as you wrapped your legs about his waist. "Fuck you, Johan. You're so horrible." You muttered between the kiss, unable to stop your hips that grinning against the bare skin of his waist.

He laughed but you were quick to interrupt it with your tongue. You slipped your muscle deep into the services of his mouth, sliding wild hands into his hair and pulling at it tightly. You lapped and licked at his inside, feeling your pussy burn for attention. His tongue was even quicker to steal yours as he hobbled back into his room, his hands supporting you to him. He turned about and laid you down on the bed, breaking the kiss to pant.

His room was dark, with the only air of light being the moon glow drifting from the window about you. It caught his eyes in a captivating icy loom, and your hips bucked forward in anticipation. Your mouth began to water.

You waited for this for so long. He leaned down and found your mouth again, sucking on your wet muscle, milking an aggressively dirty moan from your confused lips. His hands quickly invaded your space again, and with total carelessness for your well-being, he clawed away your pajama shirt, unbuttoning it tiresomely.

Being a well-respected surgeon you always had respect and might power in your hands. You had lives in your hands, you had to always be in control. But here with Johan, as he brutally pulled your bra up and nipped at your bottom lips, he didn't give you a second to think- no he stole your power right from under your nose. His bullying bites dipped into your neck, licking and slurping at your throat like some sort of wild beast.

His canines dragged harshly against the cost of your throat, his body etching around your life- the life he had planned to take years ago. His penis twitched hard in his pants, feeling his balls get heavier by the second.

He's never had sex like this. Before it was all perfect, he'd pleasure his partner, they'd give him what he wanted. Whether it was money, information, silence, or just to seem normal, it all was painfully forced. Here, he could fully intact his deepest desires to hurt you. For total domination over you but in a safe way.

The paradox of wanting to hurt you but wanting to be safe about it reigned ruler in his mind and coated his brief with serious precum. Look at you, you tamed his monster.

He dipped his tongue from the cup of your collarbone in a lengthy stripe to your chin, feeling his eyes lid as he succumbed to your intoxicatingly confused moans. His mouth parted and sucked on the base of your neck, careless with how his teeth rubbed against your skin. Your mind had shut off, the thoughts of stress that typically plagued your everyday growing deathly quiet. Every part of you agreed that right now you needed his cock so deep inside of you.

You needed him to pleasure himself on you like you were some sort of toy. You arched forward when he finally parted from his barrage of sucking and biting. He leaned up and stared down at you with hunting eyes, his hands reaching and pulling and twisting your poor nipples in his hands.

"Ah! Oohh." You cried in shock, his winding of you was direct and sharp, sending vicious sensations to your drenched hole. His face grew in satisfaction at your frantic sounds, a sadistic giggle trailing from his lips.

"Of course you'd like that. You dirty doctor." He snickered as your eyes looked deep into his belittling glare. You moaned hoarsely at his words, feeling your thighs grind against each other. One of his hands flees from your hand and dives into his shorts again. As you watch breathlessly, he pulls himself out. His cock springs out of its confinement, his penis pulsing with furious veins, his cock head a pungent red as his slick made his member a wet mess.

You moaned egregiously at the sight, your arching back hardening into a locked state. He did all this teasing and he was just as wet as he was. He was just as uncontrollable as you felt. "Johaan." You whined reaching up to touch it.

He swatted your hand away, and punishingly so his other hand pulled your nipple. "I didn't say you could touch. You dont deserve to touch." He hissed as you whimpered out. "You've lost all sorts of manners, haven't you? So wild from all those toys you put up inside you. Does it make you feel better about yourself?" He says in his painful, precise rasp.

You gasp and grunt at his words, feeling your clit pulse and cry out. Your mind was becoming a jumbled mess, your crying sex overtaking your every move. You couldn't take it anymore, and you slipped your hand down your pajama shorts, diving past your underwear to bully your hole. The restricting pressure of your underwear snapping back against your knuckles limited your movement, but your mind was savage.

You plugged your little hole with two fingers, rocking and plunging them hideously.

"A-Aah… Doctor..." You heard Johan suddenly cry. Your eyes flickered up to his and his face was incredibly red. His jaw was slack and his eyes bulged out in surprise. "You're so-ugh wh--" Was all he could say before he leaned his head back, his hand jerking himself furiously. Your orgasm was building harshly at the pretty sight.

"Mngh… Ah!" You cried. There was Johan on top of you, with each leg of his straddled against your side. He stood up above you on his knees. Careless with how he fucked his fists inches away from your face, his body hovering over your stomach. The view from below was ridiculing, and his furious pumps splattered precum all over your face and neck.

"Scheiße!" He cursed, his fapping growing wild, dysregulated, and brisk. He did this as if you were truly nothing to him, like a pornographic magazine that he couldn't get enough up. That he pent himself off so he could cum on the pages. It made you hornier than ever.

Your hole clenched hard around your fingers, your breath stammering si hard your brain had to convince your pussy's vice grip to loosen so you could pummel yourself. "Te-- augh! Tell me ah… Tell me I'm a whore uh-ah-again Johan." You whined, unaware of how saliva drooped pit of the corners of your mouth.

"You're so filthy, d-dirty, doctor. Whore." He gulped, watching his head lean back farther, revealing the peak of his neck and chin. Your orgasm was becoming familiar to you as you arched your hips high forward, plunging your hands faster and faster, matching Johan's rapid pumps.

"J-Johan… Johan!" His name became the only word you knew.

Your voices became a choir of delighted song, the sounds loud and free, and your eyes were privy to soak up all of his beautiful cries. His voice grew raspy and higher for each pump, his orgasm trailing near to yours. You dropped your mouth open wild, your tongue barreling out to catch the wayward fluids flying towards you.

"Ich k-komme, aah Doktor. Komme." He growled out. Your orgasm burst deep onto your fingers at the word, your eyes fleeing back up to the crevices of your head. Your hole wrapping deadly tight against your fleeting fingers.

With a few high sounds from Johan, you blinked out of your high, forcing your eyes open to watch. His head leaned back down to you, his teeth bared and clenched tensely, while his eyebrows folded upwards angelically. His blue eyes peeked out from his daze and found you, tongue out and ready for his disposal. With one final cry, the sight sent him over the edge.

White, hot ropes shot out from him and onto your nose, his hand quickly redirecting his aim to splatter onto your tongue and teeth. He shot heavy, long-winded loads with hard pants, his hands shaking trying to contain his excited high.

With heavy pants, his cock sent its final queue of hot cum and softened slightly. The room was filled with you and Johan's doggish pants, trying to catch our breaths from your ecstasy.

"Johan." You mewled pulling your hand out of yourself. You reached up for him and he buried himself into your arms, digging a whorish needy tongue into your mouth. His body hovered over yours, with his chest slumped against you. You whined into the sloppy kiss, but it didn't last as his wet mouth brushed you on his way down. His forehead leaned into the bed next to you, his bottom flying into the air weakly.

"Scheiße." He mumbled again but it was quieter this time.

Now that the high was running to a close. Humiliation and embarrassment were piercing his pale blue eyes. Instead of cuming deep inside the doctor, the object of his fantasies for months, he got too excited and came all over her. She didn't even get to touch him once. How pitiful had he become since becoming her housewife?

"Johan that was amazing." He heard her sweet voice say. The shame was building as he hid his face in the crook of her neck. Her hands slid up his back to chase him, her dirty slicked-up finger intertwining worriedly into his hair. "Johan? What's wrong sweetheart." You whispered comfortingly, and his heart whined at the sound.

He was becoming too soft, too attached.

He couldn't fight his words.

"I came on you. Not in you." It was humiliating. He was reduced this low. By this woman?

Your eyebrows quirked up with a hearty laugh. "Then cum in me, crybaby."

He blinked.

Crybaby?

Johan slid out of your neck with unreadable eyes and stern brows. You blinked at his stare, one you were quick to identify as his surprise.

Suddenly his face melted into a loving smile, his eyes brewing with butterscotch affection. A cooing laugh fell out of him. Under the twinkling moonlight, he truly did look like an angel. Your breath caught in your lungs. His lips leaned down and kissed you politely, a dance of short bubbly friction. "Alright, my dear. Let me take care of you." He said as his hands nicely gripped your hips, helping you to turn onto your stomach.

What?

What was that? He was a totally different person? An angelic sweetheart, just like the man who cooked every meal for her. The man who unpacked her home and did her laundry so innocently.

You couldn't help but moan in confused eagerness. He lifted your hips to place a pillow under you, propping you up so that you didn't have to arch for him. You gulped and mewled again in confusion, feeling as he guided the rest of your unbuttoned shirt off you.

"Johan," you whined childishly, "I can't take this." You felt your hole clench again on nothing. His behavior was so overwhelming, your pussy began to scream needly.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now." He said, and his tongue innocently and neatly swiped the nape of your neck. He kissed the middle of your bare back gently in reassurance before his gentle fingers slid off your panties and shirts in one long swoop. The air nipped at your exposed sloppy sex, the sight of it making him groan. He grabbed the softness of your ass, giving it a tender grope.

He leaned into your sweetness, pulling your lips apart with each of his thumbs. Peering into your hole, he could see your leaking cum and slick water out of you, dribbling down your folds and onto your messy clit. With a deep inhale he memorized your scent.

"Oh, darling." He sighed wistfully.

You melted like butter into your arms. "Fill me up, please. Sweetheart, I need it." Your voice matched his contagiously charming tone.

"Yes, dear. I will." He let go and you whined at it. You peered back at him while he shuffled out of his shorts, his exposed body being revealed to you once again. He caught you looking as he leaned back dear to you, kissing your lips before lining up his cock to your sweet hole.

"Going in now, alright my dear?" He whispered. His tip kissed you civilly, and the sensation took everything in you not to clench down. Soon the innocent kiss dipped deeper, as a quarter of his length plunged into your cum lubed body. "Aa-ah." He groaned delightfully, choking out the sound as his breath grew heavy. Your eyes rolled back, your jaw falling slack.

"Here's the rest." He hummed as he pressed himself fully inside you, the stretch bonding through your body. He wasn't the girthiest, but his length was piercing. You could feel him snuggly bump your service as you mewled out in sync with him.

"Oh god, Johan." You clenched around his pretty cock, earning a delectable moan from him.

"Darling…" He chuckled, leaning in to pepper your shoulder. Before you could beg for friction, Johan began to move slow tantalizing strokes. The kind you were privy to distract yourself with after a long day. You cried out at the feeling, more heat rising to your flushed face. "I memorized this rhythm to all your moans." You shivered at his hushed words in your ear.

"You're so cr-creepy…" You moaned.

"You like that, don't you? Doctor." He groaned, loosing himself in the pumps. You couldn't say anything against him either. "On good days," His thrusts turned erratic, "You fucked yourself like this- ugh. I always guessed… Mmh. It was cause you were rushing to… See me." He was right. You gasped and cried out.

"Too fast, Johan!" You cried, your gummy walls struggling to adjust to his sudden speed.

"This way is too sloppy." He muttered. Painfully he janked himself out again, causing your body to sputter and arch harshly. "You need something like this." Johan slipped back in again, his cockhead ramming straight into your bladder. You jerked forward with a start, crying out loudly.

His hand laid against the back of your perked head, guiding your face back down into the bed. "Relax, Doktor." He laughed airy. He thrust strongly into you, never failing to hit your sweet spot. His thrusts were tender and precise, each slap of your ass against his hips made him grumble out a groan.

"Johan! Ooh! F-fuuck." You groaned. His cock pumped into your walls, each hit making you leak out sloppily. Your wetness squleched and squleched deep into the night air, the smell of your needy sexes filling the closed room.

The tantalizing strokes numbed your mind, your breath heaving, your saliva building on your parched tongue. You arched your head down deep into the sheets, overstimulating and tickling your pussy wickedly. Your cries were loud, rough, and painfully uneven as the pleasure choked up air in your throat.

Johan's bitter cock twitched and seized under your tight, suffocating walls. Sweat beaded onto his forehead as his body begged for another release. His senses dulled, the sound of your sweet noises and the taste of your lovely pussy around his dick was sinfully extraordinary. His forehead leaned against the fruit of your shoulder, perching himself into the moment as his thrusts grew rapid. He mewled out, bullying nails digging into your hips as he slammed you.

His sounds were lewder than you could ever imagine, his loud moans impregnating your sorry ears. His sounds were growing higher and rasper just like before, and you clenched around him in anticipation.

"Cum inside!" You managed out from between his defilement of you.

He groaned wild and long, shutting his eyes tight. His balls heaved, his teeth clenching shut.

Your pussy sucked and pulled at his sweet cock, delicious wetness scorching his senses with mind fucking pleasure. His thrusts grew sloppy and erratic, his moans weighted. "Komme!" He cried as leaned his head upwards, bucking his hips and delivering his load deep into the breath of your cervix.

His hot cum shot deep inside you, as you mewled out and came all over his angelic cock. Johan panted weakly, slapping his hands down on either side of your head, arching his hips deep down. His shoulders dropped in satisfaction, jaw slacked with a shiver trailing down his body.

Meekly, he slid out of you, his cock whining for the hotness of your insides once more. The mess that spilled out of you was disgusting, as barrels of mixed white cum and slick drooped out of your whorish hole and waterfalls down your folds.

You moaned with a stammer, gripping chunks of the bedsheets.

"Flithy, dirty, doktor." He sighed in content.

And every part of you was satisfied too.

[agendabymooner]

closure ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

“it wasn't right—the way it all went down. looks like you know that now.”

summary: sylvie just wanted to prove that she was good enough for the red bull racing team, but everything that had to do with her history with max seemed to get in the way of her determination— and she made sure that he knew that.

content warning: panic attack (and its triggers), use of explicit language, mentions of absent father figure, j*s verst*ppen 🤢, christian horner, frenemies to lovers (ish), confrontational text messages (max and sylvie), max being oblivious to her mental state, mentions of max’s childhood (not detailed)

note: as someone who struggled to find peace at certain situations, I know what it’s like to struggle in asking for help. please remember that there are people that are more than willing to give you the support that you need.

(i may not be able to update any of the smau works for the next two weeks as i am out of town and i only have my ipad with me. i normally do the layouts on my computer. i’ll try my best!)

enjoy xx

masterlist

2016 Spanish GP

If fate worked like this all the time, she might as well jump off the cliff if any of her peers asked for it.

She had been pulled out of her lectures for the week only for her to sit and watch how the racing teams operated. She could only roll her eyes when Christian Horner recommended she should have her presence be known in the paddock and the track as she prepared to work in an F1 team.

Sylvie already knew how everything worked; she was going to be a driver, for fuck’s sake. She had been trained for it. She grew up attending the race weekends because of her father and grandparents. She knew everything now. Hell, she even had Toto Wolff for an in-law (practically). He could just rerun everything to her if she needed to remember.

Christian Horner clearly had a different intention towards her visit. He claimed that she needed to relive the experiences in the garage, the media pit and the hospitality. But she knew the truth.

She had a rapport, her history in the academy was obviously discussed to Christian at some point. How Christian never mentioned anything about her departure from the program to her sister, who now held parts of Red Bull and the other two teams, she never had an answer for. It wasn’t a secret to most. At least to those who were there the day she left.

Tilly was in the Mercedes area, leaving her little sister in the Red Bull hospitality as she listened to nothing. She felt so alone and isolated, her urge to go to Mercedes was overwhelming. But it wasn’t as if she could; Christian had already told her off about her role and position in the company.

It didn’t help that Max Verstappen, donning his number 33 shirt, was in the same building. He was quite adamant on keeping her company but she constantly avoided him, slipping out of his sight as soon as his eyes settled on her.

She found excuses, most of which had something to do with Daniel Ricciardo. The Australian hadn’t minded though, knowing that she felt uncomfortable being around other people especially around Max. Daniel never minded her excuses, instead making up a lie that’s believable to others. Just so she could escape.

Max’s family was there that weekend. Obviously, she knew his mother and Victoria, his sister. Max and Sylvie, the two 18 year olds, were practically soul twins. Born on the same day, grew up together, and had been attached to the hips since the day they could crawl— they were friends, no one just knew what had happened. His mother had always asked Sylvie’s mum about her and how she’d managed to let her friendship with Max dissipate like that. Victoria missed having Sylvie over for tea whenever she visited the Netherlands, asking Max about what he had done to let Sylvie go like that.

Jos Verstappen was a different story. He never liked Sylvie, only holding a certain amount of respect for Julius Hearth and Blanche Ford Hearth. He always wanted Max to be successful at motorsport and this meant that nobody could be as equally good as his son. Not especially when Max’s ability matched Sylvie’s. He always claimed that hanging out with “that girl” will simply distract Max.

Even if he nodded at his father’s direction, Max continued to be friends with Sylvie, spending more time together whenever she and her family would fly and meet with his family.

At the ripe age of 12, Max admitted to her that she’s the closest thing that he had to an imaginary friend. Like he was forced to grow up before he could even walk. She was the one who would pull up the PlayStation whenever he failed to please his father for the tournament of that time. Jos never liked her, but he didn’t know exactly what could’ve made him dislike her. Sylvie didn’t like him, either, because she couldn’t believe that she was the one who’d have to give Max the childhood that he deserved. There are times when she wished she could simply spew out the foulest words and lump him with her own father. Well… she had already considered him a shitty father, and there’s no changing of opinion now.

So for Sylvie to see Jos in the paddock, basically keeping his eye on his son like a pestering hawk? Yeah, she turned away from their direction.

Then another group of people came, the same arrogant smile all over their faces. They taunted her.

She could remember her last week at the academy, when she had enough. These boys questioned her abilities on the track as soon as she started, trying to get her to quit as soon as she could. She didn’t care about them, because whenever they’d race she remained on the top of their level. They hated her because of it. Then on her last day, she was left to be called a name that didn’t even fit her…

“Snake Sylvie!” Matt Bauer was what she called Max’s bitch. He never liked Sylvie and had always wanted to be in Max’s family’s good graces. Alongside him were Max’s two other friends. These three were the same incompetent fucks who never ended in Formula 2. Thus, ending their racing careers early. They were doing fuck knows what these days. Which was quite hilarious, if you were to ask Sylvie, because they were the ones who kept telling Max to “Keep working” or “toughen up and get the first place.”

She couldn’t remember their names when she met them again that weekend, her eyes were already blurry from the tears as she shoved her way through them. “Where are you going?! We’re just going to catch up, babe!”

She didn’t even stop, her feet speeding up as she attempted to wipe her tears away. Her lips let out a stutter of excuse me as she pushed her way into where the Mercedes garage was.

Second free practice didn’t start anytime soon and Sylvie was thankful for that. It, however, never stopped the camera by the engineering station from capturing the sounds of a sobbing girl and an image of her nearly soaked Red Bull shirt as she ran inside. Had she been stronger than this, she wouldn’t have ran to Toto.

As if he knew someone was coming his way, Toto Wolff immediately took his headphones off and turned. His face etched with worry as Sylvie wrapped her arms around his broad figure. She was hysterically sobbing and shaking, her tears almost soaking his white shirt as she kept her head tucked in his chest.

“Can we stop the camera? There’s an obvious situation going on in here and we need a moment,” Sylvie couldn’t hear his voice as it was something more of a rumbling noise. Meanwhile Toto’s stern expression made the cameraman do as he was told. “Hey, schwester, are you okay?”

She was relentless, sobbing as she kept her head down and her arms tightly wrapped around him. She couldn’t speak. Not breathe for that matter. It felt like the last day of the academy all over again. Having no voice felt like she was just as defenseless once more.

“Sylvie, do you want me to take you to your hospitality?” Her bloodshot red eyes, still tearing up, stared into his dark ones as her lips quivered and her head shook left and right. “Do you want your sister?”

Toto knew that the Mercedes hospitality was nearer to the Red Bull area than the Mercedes garage. So for her to go this far just for comfort… something told him that she didn’t want to stress out the pregnant woman and that she needed more than her sister.

He pursed his lips, feeling helpless as he kept an arm around her shoulder as they walked out of the garage. He nodded at his engineers as if he was letting them know about leaving for a moment.

He did his best at comforting her. Rubbed her back, shushing her quietly and gently leading her to the hospitality. People outdoors had gotten a glimpse of her situation and began to speculate, which forced her to hide her face once more as Toto glared at them.

“Come on, schatzi,” inside nobody had batted an eye on her. And instead of speculating, certain people merely looked at the two with concern. What the hell happened, they probably asked themselves.

She was too busy crying and hiding her face away that she hadn’t realized Tilly was already approaching the two. Sylvie didn’t look up until she heard, “What happened, bello?”

“She came to the garage,” Toto said quietly, looking down at his in-law with concern as he said, “she couldn’t say anything because she’s having a hard time breathing.”

“Oh, lovie,” Tilly whispered empathetically, her delicate figure reaching out to hug her little sister, “I’m sorry to hear that. Come, let’s sit down, yes?”

Sylvie could barely think throughout the process of moving from one place to another. They reached the Mercedes motorhome and found themselves in a private room, Sylvie’s lips were swollen and her tear-stained cheeks were red.

She wasn’t even aware that Toto left until his tall figure returned with two bottles of water in his hands. He simply placed it down on the empty table and exchanged looks with his girlfriend. They couldn’t even find a way to help her out of this.

“Listen, Sylvie,” the girl’s sobbing subsided for a moment as Toto said, “I will come back. Okay? I will check and make sure that you’re alright, but I have to go.”

“Yes, go,” Tilly nodded at him, “I’ll be here. Thank you for taking her to me, mon amour.”

“Alright, I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Toto murmured as he leaned down and pecked Tilly’s lips. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Tilly smiled ruefully, her eyes trained on her little sister as Toto moved to stand and hug Sylvie. Sylvie could only hug his waist, not wanting to let go but had done so anyway.

“Take some time to breathe, lovie,” Toto said for the last time before he left hesitantly.

Nobody but the two were inside the motorhome, thankfully. Sylvie would be so embarrassed to cry in front of other people— as she had done so ten minutes ago. The silence was interrupted by Sylvie’s sobbing. Tilly couldn’t help but wrap her arm around Sylvie’s shoulders, trying to occupy as much space as a pregnant woman could. God, this was the only thing that she didn’t like about her pregnancy. She wasn’t able to comfort her sisters or anyone as much as she’d like to do.

The model couldn’t even think or try to let out a single word, only crying in her sister’s arms as she listened to her shushing. It didn’t take long until the tears dried up. Her energy drained from crying too much over some fuckers who couldn’t even make it to the podium. Them, and that one person would be able to do that on Sunday.

With exhaustion washing over her, her sniffles turned into something more silent as she shut her eyes. It didn’t take long for Tilly to notice this as she stood up, giving more space to the girl on the couch. “Get some rest, lovie,” Tilly said quietly, brushing Sylvie’s hair away as the girl drifted off to sleep.

She really didn’t like being here in Spain.

—

Argument just outside the motorhome was what had woken her up. It was normal to have frustrated drivers or team principals throw a bitch fit, but hearing an argument was a different story.

Her eyes stung from opening after her post-crying nap, her feet meeting the floor as she popped the lid of the bottle open, her parched body taking in the water that she swallowed.

She liked eavesdropping, she really did. She liked to provide her own input even if it’s not needed— she was nosey and everyone knew that. But what she had gone through just about an hour or so ago made her lose the energy and motivation to be her usual self.

It didn’t stop her from walking closer to the door and listening in to whatever argument was going on.

“She’s here to observe and work, she’s not here to spectate,” that was Christian Horner.

“But she’s not feeling well, Christian, she has to rest,” now that’s her favourite in-law. Not really in-law.

“Look, I get that you’re looking out for her but you have to understand,” Christian hissed, “she’ll be signing with Red Bull as soon as she graduates. I cannot have her working with the team if you’re constantly mollycoddling her just because you’re the closest that she has to a father figure. This is a professional work setting, Toto, and she needs to be disciplined to be a part of it.”

“Disciplined, in what way?” The sternness on Toto’s voice could kill, unless you’re just as stupid as Christian as Sylvie heard a scoff coming out of the Red Bull team principal’s mouth.

“Everybody’s going through tough times,” Christian said, “so what? Most of us are moving along anyways. Don’t treat her like a child and make exemptions. She’s never going to learn how to toughen up from it.”

“Hey!” Another voice rung out as the door opened slightly, making her step back as she heard an exclamation of, “That girl was distressed after she left your area— the place where she’s supposed to feel comfortable working in. It’s not her responsibility to bear the problems that are clearly happening within the area of your control, so don’t you tell us how to accommodate if you can barely take care of it. Alright?”

“Fuckin’ prick,” the door slammed shut as Sylvie’s figure remained frozen, her eyes watching as they met Lewis’ dark ones. He smiled gently and asked, “Hey. Are you feeling better now, sweetheart?”

She didn’t respond for a moment after she heard Toto say, “Just give it a rest. She’ll work on what she has to do, just let it go for now. Speak to Tilly, if you would like.”

“Don’t worry about them,” Lewis pulled her back to the couch and sat with her. He leaned back as he joked, “Lovers’ quarrel is what’s going on between the two.”

She chuckled quietly, unable to keep her facade. The laughter fell eventually as she muttered, “I didn’t mean to create such a scene. I’m sorry.”

“What? Hey, girl, no,” Lewis felt his heart break at her words as he reached and rubbed her shoulder for comfort. “Don’t be sorry for snapping. It’s brave of you to keep it together in the first place.”

“I really didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it,” her voice cracked as she tried not to cry. Thinking about it was exhausting and saddening. “It’s just— there’s—“

“It’s okay, take a deep breath,” Lewis told her softly. She did as she was told. Many would say that it’s a rare thing to happen but Sylvie listened.

“There’s just people,” Sylvie explained quietly, not looking at Lewis as she murmured, “I haven’t seen them for a while and… I felt so uneasy. Like it’s the final nail in the coffin. I didn’t want to make a big deal because it was at Red Bull. Nobody’s in there. Toto, you and Tilly are in Mercedes.”

“Sorry we couldn’t be there,” Lewis told her sympathetically. “But it’s a good idea that you went to the garage as quickly as you did. Now look, even Christian’s facing Toto’s wrath.”

“I don’t want to think about it anymore,” Sylvie whispered shakily, shutting her eyes close as she sighed, “I just want some closure.”

The next few days were dreadful. She hadn’t wanted to go back to England as much as she did that weekend.

The people she never wanted to see were there. The sad part of it was the fact that Max would continue to be a part of her life and job, whether she liked it or not. She’d have to tolerate him, no matter how much shit she had gone through because of him and those people around him. This was the second time she had seen him and felt so angry. It was like her life was a race. It starts out very well, with her at the pole. But then she crashes the moment she tries to take advantage and overtake.

On Sunday, Max landed in P1. Sylvie watched him pop the cork of the Moet out and showered his fellow podium winners with it. The text that she then received and sent spilled everything that had nothing to do with champagne. But rather explained how she ended up leaving the academy after that damn open tournament four years ago.

Max complains a lot, he could admit, but he never felt so guilty as much as he did when he practically berated her through a series of text messages. He always demanded answers to things that he believed had explanations, and he wouldn’t stop until he got it. But sometimes he wished his relentless demands were silenced by his conscience.

He felt extremely guilty and upset. It wasn’t because Sylvie Hearth refused to give in to his demands, but rather because her answers explained her hatred and anger. It wasn’t just any anger. It was an ounce of hatred and a lot of anger directed towards him.

Because really, he was the reason why Sylvie never turned out to be the first woman to become a Formula One driver. She never got the seat in Red Bull Racing and Max had gotten it instead. Now he understood why she would refuse to speak to or look at him as if they were childhood best friends and act like they were strangers.

[sotogalmo]

3:00 am (4 days ago) — 12:34

“Come, my prince, kiss me in that forest...”

@alien-til-i-stage / @starry-skiez (small but lots of mentions of Ciaran) :

@solei-eclipse / @junebluues / @chokkito / @4listr / @aakaneeee / @rockwgooglyeyes / @teapotuser + @bluemoonscape

Before it all— continuing from my other post, which is the aftermath.

"now, let's get some rest. Tomorrow is a very special day, is it not?" Yume has said, a lot of the times after seeing the 'Sun' set while being in the garden.

It's something that he's cherished, but not outrightly stated that it's something he liked doing. It's more like a gift- that's what Yume has thought and called it

Sleep is a gift; and those who are able to sleep are given such a gift because it's necessary for them (not for me, they wanted to see if they can push me to the end)

And such a gift, is good for them.

And it's something he wanted to learn about; it's not that weird that he watches others, isn't it?

He's learning about it, and it's better to do it up close and personal- a hands-on type of experiment. So it's not weird of him to stare.

It's actually quite normal for him to stare at others.

Seeing others sleep, whether they sleep within seconds or take longer- it's all interesting to him.

They are also in weird and funny positions to sleep in... But it's nice that they trust him when they fall asleep next to him.

He, Yume Nagai -"the sleep potentate"- finds it's very nice of them to trust him with such dreams and how close he is to them (physically, he doesn't really know what happens in their dreams, but he hopes it's nothing but what they want)

But it seems whenever they sleep close to him, they have happy dreams!

That makes him.. feel... Nice about himself. And it gives him purpose.

To which, he couldn't help but let his mind wander thru his past as he stared at some of them sleeping.

His past before he met the ones in his class; before he met his class.

His past where he would indulge in his own choosing of hanging out with Ald, for as long as he can. That has him asking questions, and never getting a full straight answer— but the fact that he can hang out and hear his voice?

Ah, it's so wonderful that it just drives him wild.

Even if Ald later down the line forgot about him and then got a new pet, oh what was his name? Sebstian? Sebastion? No one cares.

Yume had loved him since they had their first meeting; when they first looked at each other and then a spark happened.

And he was helpful too! Since he could bring Ald to greatness and provide wealth for him; he was technically the son of a doctor.

And he didn't mind! He actually accepted it, outright. And if it means that the silly childhood promise they both made when they met, could be kept in like a secret; a place where he will compromise for Ald's forgetfulness—

Because as long as he has him, surely everything will be alright. Even if he forgets- as long as they are together physically; he can be safe and sweet.

...

To which, it connects to what he's been seeing and what he's seeing right now. Someone is having trouble sleeping- someone not close to him, so they're fine.

But some of them seem to be in a nightmare; granted, Sebastian always has nightmares or just plain black dreams. so it's not surprising when it comes to him—

But for the others. It's a bit of a surprise. But then again, this places does bring them so much anxiety- fear and relentless horror. Even if they don't know it.

At least the subtle-ness of such a place gets to them subconsciously. It always was like that for him, so most likely it's for the others too. It would make sense

And in a way, he has just the right thing for them that can soothe them and bring much happier dreams than the ones that they're having. Well- not really, and he doesn't feel up to it.

In a way, he's jealous because they can have this gift of being human and having a rest. It's a gift that many of them have shared with others since the very start of their birth.

But, also- he's helpful to them because he can lure them to sleep— he was helpful for Ald!

He thinks he's helpful for the others because of how he can help them with their sleeping habits. And it makes him happy that he can help them; which has turned into a thing he does for the sake of their health and overall happiness.

Everyone has worries that weigh them down from day to day, he knows that with perfect -unchained, unscorecard, and unrestrained- knowledge because he's always seen worry.

"mama" he would first think, and then- "or papa... I don't know which is more fitting for them, but mama gives me... makes me a tiny bit of.. happiness..."

But then he'll just continue this train of thought: "mama and every other person I was able to see.. I could see their worries plain as day. Even with their sleeplessness, it wasn't hard to find it. It's under their eyelids, they are called "eye bags" I've been told by ama." — "and that was why some of them have been so surprised when I went up to them, whenever I could. I think."

"But! Now! With this medicine I plan on making, with the tiny leaves I've gathered when I was out playing with Ciaran (ah, ciaran..), and the.. cuts I gave myself. Leaves and liquid are important for making a cure, right?"

Yume hums a small tone, nothing significant. Just something that he regularly hums whenever he's too deep into his mind— "repeated tasks in uninspiring daily life, deepest longings.. ah, you know. Only inside a dream, you can leave it all behind-"

He's thought of that, too many times.

To close his eyes, cast away anything - anyone - everyone and everything he's tired of because if-

Ah. You already know that though. I bet you do, it's the main reason why he was made!

Such irony.

That he, now also does the same for the same reason; to lose himseld in his mind inside of his realities, where it's all true! (oh, who needs reality when you can dream? It's very simple!)

.

. .

. . .

. . . .

. . . . .

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

. . . . .

. . . .

. . .

. .

.

.... . / .-- .- .-.. -.- . -.. / - --- / - .... . -- .-.-.- / --. .. ...- .. -. --. / - .... . -- / .- / --. .. ..-. - .-.-.- / .- / --. .. ..-. - / ..-. --- .-. / - .... . -- / - --- / -... . / ..-. .-. . . / ..-. .-. --- -- / - .... . / .-.. .. ..-. . / - .... .- - / .. ... / .- -. .- -.- - / --. .- .-. -.. . -. .-.-.- / .- / --. .. ..-. - --..-- / .- / -... .-.. ..- . / ...- .. .- .-.. .-.-.- / .- / ...- .. .- .-.. / .. -. / .... .. ... / .... .- -. -.. / - .... .- - / .. ... / -.. .- -- .- --. . -.. / -... . -.-- --- -. -.. / .-. . - ..- .-. -. --..-- / .- -. -.. / - .... .- - / -... .-.. ..- . / ...- .. .- .-.. / .-.. --- --- -.- ... / .-.. .. -.- . / .-- .- - . .-. .-.-.- / ... ..- .-. . .-.. -.-- / - .... .. ... / --. .. ..-. - / .. ... / -. --- / .--. --- .. ... --- -. -.-.-- / -... . -.-. .- ..- ... . / .-- .... -.-- / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / .. - / -... . ..--.. / .-- .... -.-- / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / .... . / --. .. ...- . / - .... . -- / ... ..- -.-. .... / .- / - .... .. -. --. ..--.. / .... . / -.-. .- .-. . ... / ..-. --- .-. / - .... . -- .-.-.- / - .... . ... . / .-.. --- .-- .-.. -.-- / .--. . - ... / --- -. .-.. -.-- / .-- .- -. - .. -. --. / .- -. -.. / .-- .- .. - .. -. --. / ..-. --- .-. / - .... . / --. .-. .. -- .-.-.- / - .... . / -- ..- .-. -.- -.-- / .-- .- - . .-. --..-- / - --- --- / -.. .- .-. -.- / -.-- . - / .. - .----. ... / ... - .. .-.. .-.. / .-..-. .-- .- - . .-. .-..-. .-.-.- / .- / --. .. ..-. - / - --- / .- .-.. .-.. / --- ..-. / - .... . -- .-.-.- / -. --- .-- / --- ..-. ..-. / .. -. - --- / .... .- .--. .--. -.-- / -.. .-. . .- -- ... --..-- / .- .-.. .-.. / - .... . / -.-. .... .. .-.. -.. .-. . -. / ... .... .- .-.. .-.. / -.. .-. .. ..-. - / - --- / - .... . .. .-. / ... .- ..-. . / .... .- ...- . -. .-.-.-

But now,

I can—

Be free.....

Yume hums a small tone, nothing significant. Just something that he regularly hums whenever he's too deep into his mind— He thinks he's helpful for the others because of how he can help them with their sleeping habits; he's shown that! His vial, his medicine- his "gift". And it makes him happy that he can help them; which has turned into a thing he does for the sake of their health and overall happiness.

For the sake of his—

CRASH. (Wink)

Oh?

Ah.

That rat— vermin, again.

Isn't it?

Roaming the halls, seems like he's not actually a heavy sleeper; but that's to be expected. He's always on the worry side of everything.

That's what Ald has been telling him, when he was first adopted he would make these small mistakes just like a new-born fawn! Ald found it funny, and so does Yume.

Hah, how can a faun- a deer survive in these conditions?

Ah.

But if he finds out; oh. He might tell the others— he seems to be that type of person, either way.

A scaredy cat that makes too many mistakes that it's funny, a mouse that tells on others, a rat that hears and whines, a vermin who's nothing but pest— nothing but oblivious to the idea that Yume has; that will set them both and many others free from this place.

So, yes. He has “"broken in"”. Not his fault that the aliens didn't trust him enough to watch the others...

.

. .

. . .

. . . .

. . . . .

. . . . . .

They met.

Face to face—

Once again. But this time with no "axe" behind Yume as to "disregard" his 'clone' (ahahah, ahahaha! funny- because he's the one and only Yume Nagai. Why would there be clones of him?)

They were standing near- so damn near- the entrance of the garden.

The ever-shifting colored box; the top of it open. They could see the stars- the other planets— everything.

. .

. . .

But that doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter to him; Yume. It doesn't matter.

It shouldn't, and it doesn't matter.

Why is Sebastian so resistant? Why does he hesitate (Drink up the vial. Take a breath; Suck out the poison, let it touch you) ? Why does he second guess, everything given to him?

This gift, why does he wake so easily from it?

This gift, why does he always worry it would never work?

This gift, why does he call it "nightmare"?

... Yume walks away; oh, he doesn't want to spend a MINUTE longer with this ginger!

He always makes him confused, questioning himself; but of course! What he thinks about Sebastian is nothing but rivalry!

Why should he feel connected, and feel just the same when he was with Ald (with Ciaran)?

Sebastian is the total opposite of them, and that doesn't feel nice.

Yume is now back in his room. Not alone, but he's back in his room. In all honesty, that's better than being in the halls where the others could see them.

This is better, because he can now- revisit the way he did his cure. (Feelin' feelin' feelin' feelin' f e a r)

And maybe have someone taste it (Drink up the vial. Take a breath; Suck out the poison, let it touch you) out! To see if it's perfect for the others.. even if he already gave those said others (those nobodies) their peace!

Yume sits back down, close to the area where he was making his cure; his gift to them all. Before he heard Sebastian's voice;

Of course it wobbled, but only a slight bit before he 'yelled' (more like he whispered this out loud in a very hushed but loud voice)— "Stop this already!"

To which? Of course, Yume responded, in the same tone and everything. You don't want the others to catch you, right?

"Stop what?"

Sebastian's hands waved around in the air (With a slight fever,) as he tried to remember what Yume called that glass bottle- "this- that thing that you're creating!—

You can't keep making it-!" Such a ""hero"" (but he is here with a weapon.. no, it can't be.)

"Why not!? Why not!? What's so bad about finally having rest!?" (wink.) "I'm here to save you all!"

"To start the end of the beginning."

"......"

"So I can finally meet him again... I have to do this."

"How are you so sure that this will make you meet him?"

"you... you just want to die!"

"AND!?"

"if I DIE, then they'll surely ask you about me. And he- he'll ask you about me! He'll finally talk about me!"

"Also...." Yume stopped for a bit, lowering his hoarse voice.

"Are how you so sure, I'll die? I know I will, but I'll not stay dead for long. I know it for sure." Saying it with such childishly sweet reassurance.

Sebastian gripped his scissors. Wondering if that tone should've been comforting, or something. It sounds— wrong. Like it's not supposed, to be that childish. That sweet- that unbothered.

Yume held onto his box cutters, the ones he found and hid away from the aliens- so very well.

"Besides. You know what Ald eats."

Sebastian shudders at the memories of seeing.. three? Or possibly more, human bodies that sometimes look like him; with the same clothes and everything-! The same rat hats, same rat tail belts, and everything. (Even the same things that the other pets would hunt- everything was prey. He was prey. But he lived; why? What's so interesting about him? Why did Ald keep him alive?)

"I only hope to be helpful to him. To be his resource, to be his~."

Sebastian looked away as he slightly drew blood from his own hand holding onto his scissors too tightly. "I should've known it would be like this, for that reason.. because you are weird, and a freak... ..... but why.. just why Yume..."

"it's only natural, that I'll finally be useful to him. And that they'll never let me go... I'm too important to them."

"Why.."

"Isn't painful? Suffocating?

Do you just want to escape it all?"

He's being... He's being vulnerable.

"Too tired of it all?" (A woman is eavesdropping on them; she lightly shakes and then looks down while having her robe on. She understands what he's saying.....)

"But."

What do you mean "but"? (Drink up the vial

Take a breath

Wink

Suck out the poison

Let it touch you)

"That's alright. It's fine; it's just how- and the way humans are."

You're saying that like you're.. you, yourself aren't human.... (Save this game, Mr. A)

Yume brings his box cutters to a spot on his wrist, like he's an expert at such harm (he is, just look at how he needed a glove to hide his marks!)— he didn't even have to look at his arm; his hand.

He knew just the spot, and he knew how to finish his cure; his gift— the heaven's blessing.

Love's love.

.

. .

. . .

His own blood.

If he can't give it to Ald (not Ald, not Ald. It's Ciaran), then he can at least "accidentally" give it to him.

The leaves, his blood, the poppy lookalike flowers (they are called ANAKT flowers, but he doesn't buy it. Fake? Of course, but it's the best he can do)- along with one silvervine.

Sebastian looks around, continuing to draw blood from his sweaty palm that is holding onto his weapon (Still covering my right eye

I check the tears). ..... He's thinking of doing what he should do- as a way to stop this craziness (yes, he knows that Yume has already been crazy from the start since they met, but this— ....)

A cut; and the drip-drip-drip of fresh blood. The metal smell overwhelms Sebastian, as he dashes forwards to pull Yume away; getting some of it (the blood, the blood coming from Yume's already too far gone wrist) way from the small bottle that Yume has been working on for who knows how long..

To which?

Yume attacks.

How DARE he stop this!

He would've dragged him down with him later or earlier, but now it seems like he should drag him down with him; NOW.

If Sebastian is acting like this, then he must surely want to be dead with him right now— but he can't.. he doesn't have the strength for it. (The woman outside of their door, starts to leave. They don't pay attention- but surely the guards might've- should've heard of her steps. It seems to be close to morning? The time where they would put the place in "day mode"; pink hair in cat-ear like buns sways, leaving with a younger girl who has ear-length ginger brown hair)

So it was easy for Sebastian, the one who can hold an alien back by one hand, to hold him in place and to at least try and help— keyword; try.

He tries.

He doesn't succeeds.

Yume scratches at his arm's bicep.

Not necessarily with his nails, but also with his box cutter. It's easy to do that (he had to, switch? the placement of his box cutters onto the other hand because his hand is bleeding out. Slowly, but still).

He was giving something back; he was giving that pain back. Not to the actual one who caused it, but the one who caused confusion for him.

He lightly smirked again, a last time type of smirk; the same smirk he had when they first met (God, Sebastian thinks, this makes me sound cheesy as hell. As if I liked him- no, not that. As if I "loved" him.....)

But his smirk was hiding something. Sebastian just knows it; how can he smile like this? And use so much force to crave words into his biceps....

He's—

you had used me, and abused me, made me feel small. You had cast aside my feelings, treated me like a doll. Even long before the gift, you'd broken my heart.

It was all I could do to tear the damn place apart! (I'll scream until I rot away)

They are face to face again.

Sebastian is holding in his tears (he doesn't want to be seen as weak, or pathetic. He doesn't like tears because of that. He only wants to be helpful)

Yume is ever smiling back at him.

. . . This feels so weird...

it's a medicine, it brings sleep make no mistake. And the sleep's eternal, so you never shall wake.

With what he can do for now, he reaches over to the glass bottle. Sebastian doesn't move, as he only tighten his grip onto him- trying so much.

"This is okay. This is okay." Yume said, what is he trying to achieve with saying that?

My Insomnia is transformed to a thing of the past.

Yume pushes them both away from each other. Sebastian brings his scissors to Yume's shoulder; close to his neck and collarbone (he wanted to stop this, in one way to another. Even if blood is made. He has to chase his heart) — to that, Yume somewhat whined. Only for a little bit

No longer the sleep princess, instead the sleeping beauty~—

.

. .

. . .

. . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . .

. . .

. .

.

The same pink haired woman is lightly seen. She's with— no.

It can't be.

It must be a clone, at least!

[moon-alight]

&Team Masterlist

Feel free to submit anything you want me to write :)

(S) = Smut

(F) = Fluff

(A) = Angst

General Masterlist

-Reactions:

&Team with taller s/o (F)

&Team when their s/o cries after making a mistake at an award show (F,A)

&team when they're s/o has a panic attack (F,A)

&Team ideal types

&Team climbs through your window cliché (F)

&Team reaction to reader getting bullied (F,A)

&Team reaction to you taking off your promise ring during an argument (F,A)

&Team reaction to waking up from a nightmare and not finding you (F,A)

&Team reaction to you taking pills to lose weight (A)

&Team reaction to you struggling to use chopsticks (F)

&Team reaction to waking up on your period (F)

&Team reaction to you coming out as asexual (F)

&Team reaction to playing ACNH together (F)

&Team with a Gamer Girlfriend (F)

&Team reaction to you locking yourself up after an argument (A)

&Team reaction to forgetting your anniversary (F)

&Team reaction to a very long haired s/o (F)

&Team reaction to their s/o fainting during an argument (A)

&Team reaction to their s/o being injured (F)

&Team reaction to prom dress shopping with their s/o (F)

&Team falling in love with their childhood best friend (F)

Being K's sister and crushing on Taki (F)

Hyung-Line and neck kisses (S,F)

Hyung-Line losing their V-Card (S)

Hyung-Line favorite positions (S)

Hyung-Line moving in with their s/o (F)

Hyung-Line taking care of drunk s/o (F)

K

-Show me (S)

HEADCANON: K as your boyfriend

HEADCANON: Smutty thoughts on K

HEADCANON: K as a father

HEADCANON: K as a husband

Fuma

-First Time (S)

-Your curves (F, S)

HEADCANON: Fuma as your boyfriend

Nicholas

-So much better (S)

-Attention (S)

-Fair is fair

-Perfect distraction (S)

-Fuck me (S)

-I'm fine (A,F)

-Good Luck kiss (F)

-Insatiable (S)

HEADCANON: Nicholas as your boyfriend

HEADCANON: Smutty thoughts on Nicholas

HEADCANON: Nicholas as a father.

EJ

-Perfect to me (F)

HEADCANON: EJ as your boyfriend

HEADCANON: Smutty thoughts on EJ

Yuma

-Seven minutes in Heaven with you (F)

-My way (F)

-Diamonds (F,A)

HEADCANON: Yuma as your boyfriend

Jo

-Nightmares (F,A)

-Just stay here and you're safe (F,A)

-Rainy day (F)

-Heart attack (F,A)

-Popular (A,F)

-Biscuits and Tickles (F)

-Saturday live (F)

HEADCANON: Jo as your boyfriend

Harua

-I'm the lucky one (F)

-You can always come to me (F,A)

-Pocky game (F)

HEADCANON: Harua as your boyfriend

Ta-Ki

HEADCANON: Taki as your boyfriend

Ma-Ki

-See? He loves you (F,A)

-Clouded (F)

-Comfort (F)

-Okay, professor (F)

-Chemistry (F)

HEADCANON: Maki as your boyfriend

HEADCANON: Maki with an older s/o

[melrosing]

re joanna my personal headcanon is that she would send cersei away to be fostered and cersei would resent her FOREVER for that. and honestly i think she would have sent tyrion away as well, maybe to the north, trying to make an alliance while also low key insulting (by the society’s standards) feels textbook lannister

and i have no doubt in my mind that jaime would have been her golden child. and he probably would have found some new ways to turn out fucked up but that’s another story

on Cersei, definitely - I can picture Joanna sort of trying to make amends later on but Cersei doesn't want to know, and then Jo decides if Cersei won't let her try then she won't, and they remain at loggerheads etc.

I like your idea about Tyrion spending a part of his childhood somewhere else, it'd be v interesting to see what kind of person he'd be without the Rock under him. but just in my personal headcanon for their relationship, I picture Joanna keeping Tyrion so close she's practically hiding him away, like it oscillates between an intense protectiveness and a twisted sense of shame. so the inner Lannisters see Tyrion, but he's a rare appearance at public functions.

and I get the appeal of hcs where Tyrion's her favourite because there's something bittersweet in it, like 'what could have been if they'd only had the chance to know one another'. but yeah no I think Joanna's relationship with Tyrion is messy but with Jaime she can project as much perfection as Tywin does. Tyrion in the meantime presents a host of complicated feelings, as does Cers, but with Jaime it's easiest to pretend she did right as a parent.

[galactic-writes]

Character Introductions

---

Romance Options

Ash Saha - The Best Friend

Your best friend, classmate, and coworker. Neither of you can remember if you met at school or at the diner where you both work, but you’ve been inseparable ever since.

Name: Ashmit (male) / Ashmita (female) / Ash (nonbinary)

Appearance: Brown skin and deep brown downturned eyes. Thick black wavy hair. If male, hair is mid-back length and half up in a loose bun; if female, hair is shoulder-length and parted to the side; if nonbinary, hair is short and parted in the middle with curtain bangs. Wears casual sporty clothes and gold jewelry, including multiple ear piercings. 5'7.

Likes: hiking, bad ghost/monster hunting shows, chocolate ice cream

Dislikes: self-absorbed people, exams, grape-flavored things

Birthday: Dec 11

MBTI: ENFJ-T

Blake Blakesley - The Private Investigator

A young PI who frequents the diner and has a bit of a grudge against you. They’re investigating some local disappearances and are very serious about their job.

Name: Vincent (male) / V (nonbinary)

Appearance: Olive skin and deep-set amber eyes. Straight brown hair. If male, hair is in a short quiff haircut. If nonbinary, hair is in a short mullet with fade. Wears business casual or casual clothes. 5’10.

Likes: puzzles, running, Fall

Dislikes: crime dramas, perfume, spicy food

Birthday: Oct 4

MBTI: ISTJ-A

Jo Fabron - The Mysterious Student

Another student you met when you stumbled upon their study spot. They’re incredibly studious—though you have no clue what their major is–and very withdrawn.

Name: Joan

Appearance: Light, freckled skin and round gray eyes. Thick sandy blonde hair cut in a shoulder-length shag. Wears retro style ‘smart casual’ clothes. 6’0.

Likes: 90s alt-rock, summer, reading

Dislikes: social media, being alone, chalk

Birthday: Jan 24

MBTI: INTJ-A

Mac Hayward - The Childhood Friend

You haven’t spoken in years, but your families knew each other so you spent a lot of time together growing up. Last you heard, they were working at their family’s auto shop.

Name: Malachi (male) / Marcia (female)

Appearance: Light brown skin and black almond-shaped eyes. Tightly curled black hair. If male, hair is in short two-strand twists or a twist out. If female, hair is in shoulder-length flat twists or a twist out (worn in a low bun at work). Wears sturdy workwear clothing and baseball caps. 5’11.

Likes: movie nights, gardening, their family

Dislikes: sour candy, paperwork, change

Birthday: Jun 8

MBTI: ISFJ-T

Toks Keadee - The Tourist

An interesting customer who started coming into the diner. She travels a lot and wants to know more about the area and about you—maybe she’ll stick around for a while?

Name: Olatokunbo

Appearance: Dark brown skin and dark brown round eyes. Coily black hair, currently styled in medium-length goddess braids in black, dark blue, and dark red. Wears bright, colorful clothes with many beaded gemstone bracelets. 5’9.

Likes: meeting new people, fluffy animals, fireworks

Dislikes: coffee, secrets, being stuck in one place

Birthday: Feb 23

MBTI: ENFP-A

[19871997]

HI IM losing my mind abt natejo currently. nathan mackinnon and jonathan drouin childhood friends they were best friends they loved eachother they went on sushi dates and nate drove jo to school . and then they got drafted to different teams and nate did well and jo did not !!!!!! there was such drama and he kept getting injured he had to take time off bc he had anxiety it was ROUGH !!! and then...he got traded to the avs....and had his best year yet....and re signed w them for 2 years turning down teams that would give him higher pay....bc he wanted 2 stay in colorado....w nate...........nate who said UNPROMPTED in an interview that jo is the favourite teammate hes ever had and bigs him up any moment he can . girl. theyre so not normal at all. if u want good fics bruinss on ao3 has The Most fantastic natejo fics truly changed my brain chemistry. okay bye

IKKKKKKKK and there was the whole thing of nate getting off to a slow stsrt but still veritably being a superstar/generational/hhof first ballot lock and loved by colarado v jo run out of montreal/usually called a draft bust (also implied that he lost his lovr for hockey + founf it again w the avs <- CLEARLY. bc he signed for league min. again) but jo putting uo career highs in col + both of them saying its just like junior again (arguably when jo was the most dominant in his career, again finding the joy, something something nate getting super serious since the 16-17 season and him also finding another type of joy outside of winning) + jo saying the avs welcomed him in oughghhhh childhood bestfriends of all time. in fact

tell me about your mostest special hrpf <- commmand.

[kiwiana-writes]

U, V, W ♥️

U: Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

Alex Claremont-Diaz: I relate a little too deeply to busy-ing yourself away from your problems. I love how fiercely he loves, and I love that he's imperfect but trying.

David Rose: I'm pretty sure I once provided you like a twelve minute voice note on why I love him lmaooooooooo

Jo Harvelle: Jo is EVERYTHING to me. She knows what she wants and she won't be told to stay behind, and I respect the hell out of that.

V: Which character do you relate to most?

It's either Alex Claremont-Diaz or David Rose, I truly don't know which side of the pendulum I fall on 🤣

W: A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

Hate is a strong word, there are writers who could convince me to give almost anything a go, but high school AUs or anything that's significantly set in the main characters' childhood is just fundamentally uninteresting to me.

[Alphabet asks]

[fals3nd]

@homebehind said ; "can we do something besides talk about murder?" (Ok but listen. Meg to Jo, except meg is a little done with helping with writing things at the moment 😅)

jo ought to hear that as can we do something else, but she simply does not. the scatter of papers and clutter about her writing desk in the attic is stirred as she turns in the chair to stare at meg with the sort of intensity only able to be generated by a young woman with far too many ideas and far too little sleep. "you are absolutely right, meg! we have not even touched the subplot about the rivalry between caroline and victoria's parents that makes their dear friendship all the more tragic and dramatic! it began when victoria's father slew caroline's in a - - - ah - well - i suppose we can figure that out later..."

[alexi-01]

just seen some people talking about how lando does the lando jpg account to try & get attention from the other drivers because none of them really like him they just tolerate him because they have to & i'm like what planet do these people live on that they have convinced themselves that this alternate version of lando they have in their head exists?!

in reality the man has two of the most genuine close friendships in the paddock with max & with carlos, where there are rl friends now fully intertwined in both cases, both fully make the effort to put time into those friendships with him outside of paddock & work duties, which takes real commitment in the f1 world they live in, the sainzes incl carlos's gf have more or less adopted him as part of their family, baby p adores him, max's mum & sister & gf love him etc. even jos likes him lol. he's v close with alex as well & alex has confirmed that they play golf & padel & hang out a fair bit in monaco together when lando is there, sometimes with charles as well. he & daniel clearly adore each other these days. he has a sarcastic, prickly but affectionate friendship with george since childhood & though not besties you get the impression they would have each other's backs in a heartbeat if needed (thinking back to george being the one to immediately come & check on him in his car after sochi), fernando basically adopted him as soon as he joined mclaren in 2017 & has spent 6 years (and still ongoing) moulding him into his criminal child prodigy, like he's literally one of the very few people in that paddock fernando won't say or hear a bad word said about, he & pierre go out fuckboy partying together & have some kind of weird but hilarious homerotic shit going on, he & yuki have a cute bond, seb clearly has a soft spot for him as does lewis, i think jenson would take him home & add him to his children if he had the chance, the list goes on. like we can see all that clearly just from the little bit we see of their lives via social media & tv. how blind do these haters have to be to miss any of that?

i literally have nothing else to add because you are so right anon xx

[rangers-are-cool-moved]

I am working on others but here's three of Ami's complete AU verses

AU | DOESN'T FOLLOW CANON

Naruto | Part 1

V: Childhood & Genin | Raised in Suna Not trusting the man that her husband was turning into, Jo gained permission (with help from Nara Shikaku) to register her newborn daughter as a resident of the Hidden Sand Village. This meant that Ami is raised by her maternal grandfather to have a more normalised childhood. She grows up with the Sand Siblings and makes a habit of drifting in Gaara's direction, seemingly unconcerned that he could easily kill her.

Gap between Naruto & Shippuden

V: Wandering Medic Despite becoming the only other Chunnin alongside Shikamaru, the Elders of Konoha gave the now lone Firesword two choices: Either join one of the big Clans or hand in her forehead protector and live as a civilian. But with her family now dead and all the Clans being firmly in her corner, Ami swaps her Konoha headband for one with Firesword written in Kanji on it. She leaves the village not as a missing-nin but as a wandering medic with family ties that link her only to Sunagakure.

[belovced]

               “𝐈  𝐚𝐦  𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 ,  𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 ,  𝐛𝐮𝐭  𝐈  𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐞  𝐬𝐚𝐲  𝐢𝐭’𝐬  𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝  𝐟𝐨𝐫  𝐦𝐞.”  

( little women, saoirse ronan, cis-female, she/her, 26 ) *  【ｆｉｌｅｄ :  JOSEPHINE ‘JO’ MARCH 】is a CANON CHARACTER and REMEMBERS HER PAST LIFE. the HUMAN is known to be OBSTINATE and ILL-TEMPERED and reminds me of late nights spent at the library, always wanting for more, a loopy smile and an honest heart, falling just before the finish line, bullet points on a restaurant napkin.  

i. much to her chagrin and what had since become a running joke regarding her own luck, even in this life she wasn’t born with a silver spoon. in fact, the present is almost a mirror of her past : her father’s rotten luck had ( yet again ) led them to financial ruin.

ii. despite that, ( and since kind of being used to it anyway ) she’d grown up with fond childhood memories, most of them shared with her sisters.

iii. as for now ( since no one has applied for beth and ( for dramatic purposes ) beth was out of what could’ve been the perfect family portrait. her sister’s death ( from the past ) had shaken her to her core and even now she had never got over it. yet, she’s still hoping to meet/find her sister ( i’m here for a dramatic reunion … ). truth to be told, she is rewriting the novel ( inspried by her sisters ) she has published back then as she is hoping to rewrite beth’s story.

iv. unfortunately, her attempts of publishing her stories, well, remain unrewarded and she’s pretty much trying to make ends meet. huggling her writing career, taking clases and probably working some underpaid jobs. she also works at the local bookshop les quatre filles.

v. she likes to believe that her personality has toned down due to her maturing but the truth is,  most of the times she’s too tired due to stress. she’s that kind of person who falls asleep on the bus and has to be kicked out by the bus driver - she probably has a reputation …

vi. when she’s not busy, she mostly spends her time in some book store or cafe, hunched over her laptop ; the kind of laptop which takes 102292 hours to boot , is super loud when you load one single file, and probably crashes down when you open 5+ windows, that is why she’s still mostly writing everything down.

[larcenys]

                “𝐈  𝐚𝐦  𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 ,  𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 ,  𝐛𝐮𝐭  𝐈  𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐞  𝐬𝐚𝐲  𝐢𝐭’𝐬  𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝  𝐟𝐨𝐫  𝐦𝐞.”

( little women , saoirse ronan , she/her, cis woman ) ⋮ the census states that JOSEPHINE ‘JO’ MARCH has been living in town limits for TWO MONTHS . it makes sense the HUMAN can be found hanging around ELOISE’S BOOKSHOP .  SHE must be close to TWENTY-SIX by now , do you think they’re still as OBSTINATE as they were before ? i overheard they DO  remember everything leading up until their arrival . nothing reminds me of them quite like BULLET POINTS ON A RESTAURANT NAPKIN, WONDERING WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN, INK STAINED FINGERTIPS.  

i. much to her chagrin and what had since become a running joke regarding her own luck, even in this life she wasn’t born with a silver spoon. in fact, the present is almost a mirror of her past : her father’s rotten luck had ( yet again ) led them to financial ruin.

ii. despite that, ( and since kind of being used to it anyway ) she’d grown up with fond childhood memories, most of them shared with her sisters. 

iii. as for now ( since no one has applied for her sisters (( i’m begging though )) i’m assuming that she’d grown up with meg and amy. ( for dramatic purposes ) beth was out of what could’ve been the perfect family portrait. her sister’s death ( from the past ) had shaken her to her core and even now she had never got over it. yet, she’s still hoping to meet/find her sister ( i’m here for a dramatic reunion ... ). truth to be told, she is rewriting the novel ( inspried by her sisters ) she has published back then as she is hoping to rewrite beth’s story.

iv. unfortunately, her attempts of publishing her stories, well, remain unrewarded and she’s pretty much trying to make ends meet. huggling her writing career, taking clases and probably working some underpaid jobs. 

v. she likes to believe that her personality has toned down due to her maturing but the truth is,  most of the times she’s too tired due to stress. she’s that kind of person who falls asleep on the bus and has to be kicked out by the bus driver - she probably has a reputation ...

vi. when she’s not busy, she mostly spends her time in some book store or cafe, hunched over her laptop ; the kind of laptop which takes 102292 hours to boot , is super loud when you load one single file, and probably crashes down when you open 5+ windows, that is why she’s still mostly writing everything down.