#... well! those two are having a good time it seems. and this is the only place i respect so i'm OUTTA HERE!

[eldest-moonlit]

I've never found that place at all in my life, and I'm no longer looking outside of my already existing circle of close friends and acquaintances. As a neurodivergent woman on the autism spectrum, I've taken so many blows from neurotypical society and neurotypical people that I've lost track. I've been ghosted and blocked by a lot of people, the majority of them men, when they seemed to be the ones interested in me, only to abandon me without warning the moment I started to become myself or if I ever brought up my own needs. One of those instances left me sobbing into my blankets as I was sitting in my bed, trying to be quiet so that my parents wouldn't notice that I was in emotional pain. I've faced a lack of understanding, and/or a lack of effort to understand me, from most neurotypical people in my life, with the only exceptions being my parents and one of my three close friends. I've had far too many neurotypical people accuse me constantly of making excuses for myself when in reality I'm trying to explain my neurodivergence and how it affects the way I perceive the world in the best way that I can. There is a high possibility that I was gaslit for years, by my own peers in middle and high school, into invalidating my concerns and fears over living with epilepsy, when I purposely don't drive because I've missed taking my medication before and had a seizure 24 hours later because of that. If I have a seizure while driving, then I would be at a much higher risk of being either seriously injured or outright killed in a resulting car accident. Unfortunately, the only neurotypical people I've met in life who actually understand that, or at least try to, are one of my closest friends, my parents, my neurologist, and my therapist. Anyone else I've met who understands, or at least tries to, are also on the autism spectrum or neurodivergent in a different way, which includes my other two closest friends.

As a result of all the blows, my trust in neurotypical people is, to an extent, permanently damaged and will remain so. I may be in therapy now, but I feel that even if I go through years of it, I will always be very suspicious and wary of any neurotypical person I come across, of their true intentions and colors. I've learned to avoid hope as well. For me, the pain of crushed hopes is far worse than pain that comes from avoiding hope. I have my request that people not immediately follow me for good reason: in the words of TV Tropes, I'm a Broken Bird who finds stronger bonds and kinships with others on the spectrum, who Does Not Like Men because of just how many times I've been hurt by men in the past, and has the coping mechanisms I do to Never Be Hurt Again. But I'm not getting my hopes up. I already struggle to survive in a neurotypical society that loves to hurt and disadvantage neurodivergent people, so I don't expect it to adjust to my needs while I will have to constantly adjust my needs to fit in. And even if there is someone for me out there, I don't bother to hope. I've been lied to far too many times by men already, and during a time in my life where survival in neurotypical society has only gotten more difficult for me. I have a feeling that for the rest of my life, I will be struggling to survive in society with only my needs, my interests, my methods of survival, and autistic traits keeping my head above water.

[1d1195]

Pucking Rookie IV

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8k words

From me: slow burning!!!

Warnings: ANGST violence. CW: Signs of abuse.

Summary: Harry is very hot. Very sweet. VERY protective.

“Hey everyone,” she greeted brightly. “How’s everyone today?” She asked while setting down a tray of eight glasses and two pitchers of water on the table.

“Wonderful, baby, so excited to have you.”

She nearly knocked the glasses over (fortunately, since they were water glasses, they were only plastic). She made eye contact with him and felt her heart completely stop for a few beats. Kael smiled wickedly in return.

Fuck.

She kept her smile in place. “What can I get you to drink?” She asked. After eight years, she already knew what he wanted so she focused on his teammates.

“We were hoping to see The Chargers tonight,” Kael told her. “Do they come here often?”

She didn’t respond. “We have a few specials tonight, so if you have any questions, please let me know,” then she sauntered away to place the drink order.

“Already know what I want, baby?” He called. “That’s so sweet!”

She ignored him. Taking deep breaths she headed to the kitchen. Louis wasn’t in yet. Harry didn’t know she was working. Which meant the rest of the team thought she wasn’t working too. Marc and Michael probably had their suspicions that she was with Harry. So, no one knew she was there. Not really.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was probably just going to be an hour. He had his team with him. It wasn’t like they could have a private conversation in the middle of a restaurant. Yeah, he would probably tease and torture her for the better part of that hour, but she could be civil. She could pretend. She had for ages. He didn’t know she was working for The Chargers—she was sure he had an idea that she might be. But the afternoon set it in stone.

He was such a dick. It was the first time she had seen him face to face since she moved out. Everything about him made her skin crawl and she hated it. Every touch and kiss between them seemed tainted now. All those good memories, dates, hockey games, everything felt ruined. Each interaction was colored now with the hindsight that he didn’t love her. Not the way she did. Not the way she expected him to love her for ever and ever. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve that. She knew she didn’t deserve that.

So why did he make her feel undeserving of it ever again?

*

Kael and his teammates came and went fortunately. Just as she predicted. Only a little over an hour. She refrained from speaking directly to Kael and focused on the group as a whole.

When Kael left, she was well past the feeling of relief. There should have been a stronger word for how liberated she felt. She used the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and took a moment to process everything. It was just like Kael to come in and make her feel like shit without even trying. Louis was supposed to be in, so at least she had that going for her.

“Hey love,” Louis called. “Everything good?” She probably looked a little shaken, so she wasn’t surprised he asked. She felt shaken.

“Good,” she smiled assuredly. She flitted around the room, ducked behind the bar, and went about her day. It was a busy night, and she wasn’t going to let Kael sour her shift that he had next to nothing to do with. So she didn’t. The next hour ticked on quickly and she was feeling more herself as the time stretched between Kael’s departure and the present.

“Hi baby,” he cooed.

Her arms felt numb almost instantly, she was lucky she didn’t drop her tray. Her fight or flight swept her and just made her freeze. She turned as she had earlier in the day and looked at him. “Hi,” she said curtly. He was alone, which made her nervous.

“I figured you must get a break soon. I’d like to talk.”

“Not for a while. And it’s busy,” at least that wasn’t a lie. “So I might not take one tonight.”

Louis was hurrying about from kitchen to back room, to front of house. It was busy as it could be, but she wanted to keep an eye on him. If Kael got her alone, she wasn’t sure she would be able to control her emotions as well as if she had someone that knew she was not in a situation she wanted to be in just by looking at her. Louis wasn’t Harry, but he would know all the same that she was uncomfortable.

Kael smiled brightly.

Well, at least someone that cared ifshe was uncomfortable.

“I’ll wait,” he offered.

“Great,” she deadpanned.

She went to the back room and wished that there was a group of Chargers there. If she called any of them, she knew they would break curfew and be there for her in a heartbeat. The thought of Kael anywhere near her would make Callie incensed for ruining her day. Niall would be protective in his own way and focused on her. Asher and Lang would get her away from The Locker Room and make sure Kael never set foot there again.

She could hardly imagine what Harry would do to him.

But she lied. She told Harry that she wasn’t working. The routines the boys had had in place prior to her arrival with the team had been disrupted more than she ever anticipated. It was nice they cared but it wasn’t fair to them to upheave their lives for her. She was just the photographer for the team. Their coach’s niece. They didn’t ask to have someone they needed to babysit.

She was an independent, self-sufficient person.

“You okay, love?” Louis asked.

She nodded and flitted around the room taking order and tried not to think about the feeling of Kael’s stare on the back of her head.

*

It was perhaps another hour, and Kael was true to his word in staying put. Fortunately, The Locker Room remained steadily busy. She didn’t have to lie about not taking her break. She foisted him off on another waiter who grew a little tired of him asking for her each time he went over. “Baby,” he snatched her hand as she went by.

She pulled away. “Kael, I’m busy,” she marched away before he could reach for her again.

Without warning a multitude of memories where he snagged her hand over the years filtered through her mind. His grip tight on her arm or hand. Never in a way that any outsider would notice. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered to herself. She was going to call Harry. His wrath would be well worth it. At least Kael was scared of Harry and the team. Especially if he was outnumbered. She was shaking a little as she headed for the kitchen hoping to catch Louis at least.

“Hey,” Kael said grabbing her again as she passed too close to his table. This time he caught a real hold of her arm and pinned it to the table. To any other onlooker it would look like he was just keeping her in place holding onto her hand in almost a romantic kind of way. No one would see how his fingers dug into her skin, how she was feeling the ache of the hard wood against her knuckles and wrist bone like she just lost an arm-wrestling contest. “I just want to talk.”

She wanted nothing less. “Hey, Louis!” She called quickly and loudly enough so that he would be able to hear her over the din of the whole place regardless of where he had gone off too.

Within seconds Louis was there from the back room.

Harry was right beside him. His eyes narrowed at the sight of her arm on the table. Her mouth popped open in shock. She had no clue he was there. Most obviously, she didn’t want him to see this. “Oh fuck,” she whispered and tried to pry her hand away from Kael’s. She squirmed slightly as he refused to release her. He cupped his other hand gently on top of her arm trying to get her to stop.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be here. He was only supposed to come to her rescue because she couldn’t figure out what else she was to do. She was going to hide in the kitchen and wait.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be around Kael.

“Styles,” Kael practically sang. He didn’t release her arm. “Didn’t know you were here. Tough loss today. I hope it’s the same tomorrow, to be honest.”

He didn’t take the bait. His nostrils flared. “Let go of her hand Crowe,” Harry snarled stepping closer to him.

“We were just talking, right baby?” Kael smiled and took his free hand to cup the side of her face. She turned her face away and brushed it away from her skin.

Harry continued to approach him—up close and personal. If they were on the ice the cages of their helmets would have been touching. “Let her go, right fucking now,” his shoulders were heaving.

“It’s fine,” she croaked. Harry didn’t even acknowledge her.

Was he trying to keep it together? Not make a scene, maybe? Harry was quick to anger—like most hockey players. He probably would have torn Kael limb from limb by now if this wasn’t a local place where fans and the rest of the team went.

“Let go of her,” her he repeated, his voice was so deep. His body shaking.

“Harry, I’m fine—”

He ignored her still and Kael continued keeping her in place despite her squirming. She wanted to whimper as he squeezed her tighter and pressed her hand harder into the table. To the untrained eye, you wouldn’t know. But Harry was watching like this was his favorite movie and they were at the climax of the plot. He saw the way she winced and her body bend slightly as he pressed harder. “Mind your fucking business, Styles,” Kael shook his head. “This doesn’t involve—”

“She is m’business. Especially when you’re fucking hurting her,” the whole bar area went silent as they realized one of their favorite celebrities was about to punch the lights out of one of the best names in hockey. “If y’don’t let her go, m’gonna rip your hand off, Crowe. And m’gonna enjoy it,” he promised shaking his head. “Let go of her.”

She wanted to move more but was utterly terrified. Harry could get in serious trouble. Kael wasn’t particularly dangerous, but his grip was making her whole arm ache. Harry’s threat made her stomach swoop; he was so ready to protect her. Of course that was nice, but she wanted to cry. Hurting one of the top professionals in the league (even if Harry was also at the top) was a great way to get a hefty suspension and fine if he was caught.

Just another way she was going to upend his perfectly normal, happy life.

“Harry, stop,” she begged.

“Yeah, Harry, stop,” Kael mimicked. But she inhaled sharply, pulling and moving again uselessly to try and get away from the grip he had on her wrist. She whimpered despite herself as the pain continued. “Mind your business Harry,” he snarled. “M’talking to my girlfriend.”

Harry didn’t acknowledge the comment. “Stop fucking touching her, Crowe.”

“She’s mine. I’ll do whatever I want to her.”

Harry stared at him, his gaze flicking to her wrist still pinned to the table. She was still squirming, looking to get away. Louis reached for her and Harry put his hand on his chest and pushed him away. He walked to the bar, grabbed a shot of whatever the bartender was pouring. His head tipped back as he sucked the liquid down. The quiet clink of his glass hitting the bar was the only sound in the room. Silently, Harry plucked the rings he wore when he wasn’t playing hockey off his fingers. He tucked them into the inside pocket of his jacket. It felt like the seconds were ticking by in slow motion. Not even the pain from Kael’s tight grip on her hand was enough to draw her attention away from Harry’s movements.

She swallowed, her eyes pleading with Harry not to do it. It wasn’t that bad. She could take it. The pain she was feeling now was hardly anything in comparison to what he could do. This was nothing.

“One more time, Crowe... Let go. Of her,” Harry’s voice was even. Measured. It had the tone of I’m not asking again.

“She’s mine, Styles. Find someone else to stalk.”

Harry smirked, shook his head, and his eyes flickered to hers for only a second. Then they were back on Kael. “Oh. No. No she’s very much not yours.”

As slow as the seconds had ticked by, they all came rushing back at full speed; maybe time even sped up. Harry delivered a lightning-fast punch to Kael’s nose causing him to gasp and drop her hand as he instinctively reached for his face. With the toe of his boot, Harry tipped his chair before Kael could get his bearings, and he fell flat to his back. The chair broke into pieces with his weight. He gasped, trying to right himself and protect his nose from bleeding everywhere. Harry reached down before Kael could get a grip. He yanked him up by the collar and front of his shirt. A stupid, ugly orange and blue sweatshirt that Harry was delighted to wrinkle hard in his hands. Before Kael was barely on his feet, Harry hauled him backward. Shoved him hard into the bar so the edge dug into his spine, no doubt. Without pause, Harry delivered a solid punch to his cheek, a heel stomp to his foot, and knee to his stomach.    

Kael bent forward, gasping for air and Harry’s breathing was as even as if he was sleeping.

Her hand went to her mouth and the other to her stomach as she tried to hold herself together. Everyone looked in pure shock. Surely someone was supposed to try and stop Harry. Even if he was a hockey player for the town that everyone loved. But given he incapacitated Kael in a matter of thirty seconds it wasn’t like anyone wanted to try and stop him. Even Louis was speechless and looked in horror. “Are y’gonna touch her again?” He didn’t say anything, which was the wrong answer as Harry twisted him in an instant, pressing his face down into the bar, pulling his arm back behind his body. “I said, are y’gonna touch her again?”

“No,” he rasped.

“M’letting y’keep your hand. Don’t make me regret it,” he snapped and shoved him a final time into the bar. He dropped a few hundreds on the bar for the damage and his drink. “Louis, keep the change,” he muttered over his shoulder without sparing another glance at Kael. “S’time t’go, Bunny,” he murmured lowly for no one else to hear but her. He placed an arm around her waist, and tugged her toward the exit. Every pair of eyes followed them.

“B-but m-my shift—”

Without missing a beat, he grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and stuffed it in the front pocket of her apron. “Let’s go,” he repeated and ushered her outside.

Harry opened his passenger door and gestured for her to get in.

She looked nervous, which made Harry uneasy. This strong, brave woman who bantered with unruly hockey players and dealt with fans and drunk patrons looked a bit lost. “What about my car— I mean... your other—”

“Get in the car, Rookie,” he ordered.

She followed his direction. Harry waited until she was safely buckled inside before closing her in. He locked the door for the short walk around his car, only unlocking it so he could slip inside. Once seated and buckled, he turned the car on and immediately exited the parking lot. After driving in silence for several moments Harry dropped his hand on her thigh like it was an instinct.

He didn’t ask if she was okay. Which was kind of him, because how could she be? Her heart was thudding in her chest, her wrist hurt, and her brain was a mess. Harry’s hand on her leg should have made her uncomfortable given he didn’t ask. But it was almost too comforting, and she dreaded the idea that he would have to let go of her eventually.

“Don’t y’dare cry over him, bunny,” his voice was tight.

She sniffled, not realizing she was, in fact, crying. She swiped her hands across her cheeks. “Sorry,” she whispered looking toward the window.

Harry shook his head and sighed. His hand squeezed her leg while he pressed his head back into the seat hard—if the head rest wasn’t there and he didn’t have to watch the road, she was certain his eyes would be facing the ceiling of his car, searching for strength somewhere above him. His jawline seemed sharper than ever as he clenched his teeth. “Y’don’t have t’apologize.”

“Thank you,” she croaked quietly. “For doing that, I...” she swallowed hard. “I don’t really know what I would have done,” she admitted. The scenario didn’t seem to play out in full if Harry wasn’t there. Yeah, Louis would have helped, but this was different. Harry didn’t say anything. She pulled his wallet out of her apron and placed it in one of the cup holders between them. “I don’t want—”

“It’s yours.”

 “Harry, it’s not that—”

“Bunny, I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you all afternoon. Since I met you, really. I can’t stop. I used t’think ‘bout nothing but hockey. But s’like you’re the only thing on m’mind now. M’happy when I see you around the rink taking pictures. M’happy when y’try t’skate on m’pond. I love our lessons, and I want t’have y’in my house all the time. M’happy when you’re around. Happier than I’ve been in years, and I didn’t even know I wasn’t completely happy. I can’t have one-night stands anymore. I tried, I did. You’re a long shot. I know that. Someone who deserves a guy so much better than a hot-tempered hockey player as evident by the piece of shit that hurt you in so many ways,” His voice is quiet. “S’not a secret I like you. A lot. If we can only be friends and roommates—because m’sure as hell not bringing y’back to that sorry excuse of an apartment—then s'what I’ll do.”

There was only a brief beat of silence while she contemplated all he said. “I worked really hard on my apartment,” she whispered.

This seemed to soften him a little. He sighed. “It’s adorable, Bunny. It is. But m’constantly worried you’re going t’be kidnapped, robbed, or worse. You can move in this week,” he insisted. “I have the day off after tomorrow and I was going t’spend it at the gym t’lift with the guys so we can pack and move your shit all the same instead.”

“Harry, I don’t think that will work... I have to pay out the rest of my lease if I move out early.”

“That’s bullshit,” he scoffed. She didn’t say anything. Because she kind of agreed that it was bullshit. But she couldn’t move in with Harry. Not when he just admitted he liked her the way she did. It set her heart into a dramatic flutter. Being legally bound would hopefully be enough of a reason for Harry to agree to let her stay until her lease ran out. Then she could figure out her next steps. “Fine,” he decided after a moment. “The black debit card in m’wallet will take care of it.”

She snorted unable to hide her shock. “Harry, you can’t—”

“M’done arguing with you ‘bout this, Bunny.” She frowned and looked at her hand, turning her wrist and wincing ever so slightly. “Is your wrist okay?” He asked.

She shrugged and answered instinctively. “It hurts; but I’ve had worse,” she gasped at her own mistake almost instantly. “Oh fuck, I mean—” she stopped speaking. It didn’t matter. It was too late. Harry saw through it and understood exactly what she meant. He clenched the steering wheel tighter and he swallowed. The bob in his throat looked like he was drinking a glass of nails.

“Did he ever hurt you like this before?” Harry’s voice was an octave lower than she ever heard it. His eyes narrowed as he stared forward.

She didn’t want to make matters any worse, so she didn’t speak. Didn’t move. For several seconds, the car seemed so silent it was as if the tires weren’t even on the ground anymore or if she was breathing.

“Harry,” she whispered eventually.

Harry took a deep breath not liking the tone of her voice and pulled off to the side of the road.

“What are we— Harry!”

Before she could understand what was happening, Harry was outside and opening his trunk and the car doors locked her inside. Instantly, he pulled out one of the back-up sticks he had in case his two in the locker room broke in the middle of a game (or if he wanted to practice while he was home on the pond out back). He slammed it hard on the pavement multiple times grunting as he did until the stick snapped. Then he grabbed a second and repeated this process again, swearing and cursing like he was imagining Kael was under the stick.

Once satisfied with his destruction, he collected the broken pieces and dropped them in the back before sitting in the driver’s seat again, his breathing only slightly elevated.

She stared at him wildly. Her eyes were wide and beautiful. “If he touches you again, m’killing him,” he said simply. It was a promise. His breath was heavy from the exertion.

She nodded; Harry put the car in drive and continued back toward his place. His hand went right back on her thigh, which she still found comforting and warm, even though she had only had the luxury of his hand on her for no more than a few minutes. “Okay,” she whispered hoping there wouldn’t be an again to speak of.

Harry let the silence linger again. “My apartment is the other way,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “I just told you, Rookie, y’not living there anymore.”

“Oh my God, Harry. You can’t be serious.”

He snorted. “No. I am. As a heart attack.”

“Harry I can’t move in—”

“Of course, y’can. I have like five bedrooms. Pick one. Pick three for all I care.”

She swallowed. “What if I pick your bedroom?” She was attempting to lighten the mood, maybe. Harry wasn’t sure. Or maybe she was trying (and failing) to be annoying. But Harry was never annoyed by her. He was amused at worst. She was adorable. Every little thing she did was adorable.

“Then it’s yours,” he shrugged. He was hardly home during the season anyway. With his niece, Mum, and Gem out of town, he wasn’t home much in the off-season either. He could easily move into another room if she wanted his. In fact, he probably would give her his room. It wasn’t the only one with a bathroom, but it had a nice tub that he knew was being wasted without proper use and it felt like she deserved a relaxing night to soak in the tub until she got pruney and everything else that stressed her in her life disappeared.

“I thought you didn’t bring women home to stay,” she reminded him.

“Never had one that I wanted t’bring home,” he shrugged.

She pressed her head to the window. He was quick. Didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll stay tonight, but I’m not moving in. My uncle is going to kill you.”

He shrugged. “S’a long line of Glacier Wolves who’ll want t’kill me before him.” She giggled softly under her breath. Harry glanced at her peripherally and smirked at the little smile that graced her lips. “M’niece is over a lot in the off season,” he told her. “Gem and Mum come by too. So s’had women there before.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Then, yeah. Never had a woman I wanted to bring home,” he repeated. Harry parked in his driveway, turned to her, his hand still on her thigh and honestly, she never wanted it to move.

“Are we still friends?” She blurted. He just admitted he liked her. It was no secret she liked him too. It could make things very awkward going forward so she wouldn’t blame him if he really didn’t want to be friends any longer.

“What a weird fucking question, Rookie,” he shook his head.

“Can you just tell me?”

“Yes, we’re still fucking friends. Despite the fact I would love t’be more.”

She closed her eyes. “He really fucked me up, Harry,” she whispered. “He... he wanted some trophy girlfriend that doted on him and worshipped him for being a good hockey player. He didn’t want me to be my own person. He didn’t want me to have my own hobbies or interests. Like I was nothing, a nobody—”

“Rookie,” he whispered.

“—and I just let him treat me that way. Because it was easier than confronting it—”

“Rookie.”

“—So I don’t want to keep falling for you because you... you’re so talented and you will overshadow me and you should. But it’s so fucking cold living in the shadow of someone else and I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

He winced. “Bunny,” he wanted her to stop.

“I don’t love that nickname either,” she sighed. “I want to. It’s cute and it’s even cuter when you say it. But the connotation of being a puck bunny is just more of what Kael insinuated and I don’t—”

“I don’t think you are a puck bunny. S’not why I call you that. Y’wrinkle your nose like a bunny when y’concentrate. S’the first thing I noticed when I met y’taking pictures rink-side. And you’re always going and going like the little Energizer bunny. But mostly, s’because you’re so fucking cute like a bunny. S’honestly nearly nauseating sometimes.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She swallowed trying to keep all the feelings of falling for another hockey player at bay. “So, I make you sick?”

He smiled. “Excessively.”

“And you want me anyway?”

“Excessively,” he whispered cupping her face. She leaned into the touch, closed her eyes, and sank into the way his hand caressed her cheek for a moment.

Sighing, she opened her eyes and looked at him shyly. “You probably know that he cheated on me,” she reminded him. “And the worst of it, I don’t know if it was the first time, and I don’t want to know. Because I already felt stupid for letting him belittle me and letting me forget parts of myself.”

Harry tilted his head back fully staring at the ceiling for a moment. “Yeah...” And now Harry knew this wasn’t the first time he had hurt her either. Whether it was intentional or not.

“And...” she swallowed. “I don’t think you’re like him... if you take anything away from this conversation, please know that I think you’re nothing like him. You��re up front about most of everything. He kept things from me. But... you’re you and you could have any woman you want in any city you want. I don’t fault you for that—I really hope you know that... but I don’t want to be a number anymore, Harry. I don’t want to feel like an idiot, and I don’t think you would intentionally make me feel like an idiot but—”

“Bunny,” he interrupted, turning back to gaze into her eyes so intensely it felt like everything around them disappeared except for the space between them. The seriousness in his green eyes made her stomach flip. They seemed darker. Like the color was changing to a darker shade to explain how serious he was and how he meant every word that spilled from his mouth. “I think you’re brilliant,” he whispered. “In every facet of your life. I’ve thought about nothing but hockey m’whole life. It has been eat, sleep, and breathe ice, pucks, and sticks. The second I met you, every thought has been ‘bout you,” he reminded her. “If I never played another game of hockey, I really think I would be okay s’long as y’were around.”

Her heart felt like it was broken and whole all at the same time. It was too sweet. She bit the inside of her lip. “Well, I don’t want that,” she whispered. “You’re quite good,” she reminded him.

He chuckled. “The point remains, Rookie... I want you t’have everything y’could possibly want. I want t’do anything I can t’help y’achieve anything y’want t’do.”

She looked at her lap. “I can’t believe you went to get a drink.”

“I really didn’t think y’would be there... was hoping I’d run into Louis and maybe he would know if y’were okay. Y’never answered my texts. Didn’t tell me y’made it home.” he frowned. “Why did y’lie t’me, Bunny?”

She took a deep breath. “The whole team has been so nice to me,” she whispered. “I’m not really used to that...” she trailed off. “Callie got so many penalties, you had to interrupt your post-game cool down to walk me to your car, everyone wants to take shifts to watch me... you have to drive me home, give me one of your car... I’ve seriously disrupted your lives... and it was all just too much today. I don’t want to bother you guys. You didn’t sign up to have a kid or a pet you need to watch. Uncle Charlie didn’t have to give me a job with a hockey team. I feel like I didn’t earn anything. It’s so sweet that all of you care, but it’s weird for me...”

God, she was cute. Even sad she was cute. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Y’haven’t disrupted our lives,” he promised. “We’d do this for anyone.”

“That’s comforting I suppose.”

“C’mon, s’late... we have a game tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered.

“Course, Rookie,” he squeezed her leg one more time and then got out of the car. (As she predicted, she hated the feeling of Harry’s hand anywhere else but her thigh.)

Entering his house, Harry kicked off his shoes and headed down the hall toward the bedrooms. She texted her group chat with Michael and Marc as she flopped onto the couch until she got more direction from Harry.

I’m at someone’s house for the night so don’t worry about me.

Michael reacted to her message with a thumbs up.

It better be a HOT hockey player.

Michael reacted to Marc’s message with a thumbs down.

Good night, Marc!

I want every INCH of detail

That earned a vomiting emoji from Michael. I do NOT want any details.

GOOD NIGHT MARC

*

Harry hated that he had a big house. If they were at her apartment, they could have been squished in her bed right then. She wouldn’t be down the hall and half of Harry’s mattress wouldn’t have felt so cold. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. Fortunately, his phone vibrated almost immediately. Like she somehow knew he was awake.

Are you awake?

M-hmm

Can we get breakfast, please?

Harry would throw himself down a set of stairs for her if she asked. “You could jus’ come in here t’ask,” he called.

“I’m creating boundaries!” She answered from a guest room. “Besides this bed is comfy and I don’t want to get up,” she giggled.

“Well, I don’t want boundaries,” he grumbled to himself. He wondered if she slept without pants on. Not that it mattered. He was turned on by the thought of her naked in his bed or if she was in a full snow suit.

“What did you say?” She called.

“Nothing,” he grumbled and pressed the palm of his hand over the front of his shorts willing the blood to rush anywhere but his dick at the thought of her in a goddamn snow suit. “I just have t’shower,” he mumbled.

“Okay, I’ll be here,” she sighed, and Harry could picture her snuggling herself further into the mattress. Maybe it was for the best she was in another room. If she was there looking all cute and cuddly on his bed, he would have to quit hockey. He would probably spend the rest of his life worshipping her on his mattress in every possible way.

Plus, his dick would never be anything but hard.

“Jesus, fuck,” he sighed to himself under the spray of the warm shower. He tried to think about anything but her pretty self in the other room. In his house. In his bed. In his clothes. She was probably changing into her uniform from the night before, so at least he wouldn’t see her in the shirt and shorts he gave her to wear for bed.

He shook his head and focused on shower and not what it would feel like to press her against the tile or—

“Fuuuuck,” he touched his forehead against the tile. Hockey. Defense. Goals. Niall. That’s good. Niall, gross. Callie—FUCK Callie. Asher owes me ten dollars for betting Lang wouldn’t say “good effort” in their pool game the other day.

His shower took twice as long to shower because he had to actively think about something other than his pretty friend. Once he was out, he slipped into a pair of sweats and one of his long sleeve practice shirts. As he put on his deodorant, he realized it took him an embarrassing amount of time to realize what she was doing as he got dressed. “Rookie, you are not,” he called as he hurried down the hall.

“Not what?” She asked innocently.

“Doing my dish—Rookie, what the hell!”

“They were just there! And I was bored, Harry. Plus, you didn’t say I couldn’t!”

“I told you last time.”

“Well yeah, but that was last time.”

“Please stop,” he begged and rubbed a hand over his face. “We’re supposed t’be going t’breakfast.”

“Well, I figured while you took two years to get ready,” it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes max but maybe his effort to not think about her in his shower took longer than he thought, “I would make myself useful,” she shrugged and set the final dish on the drying rack beside his sink. She turned the water off and ran the dishtowel over the counter and edge surrounding the sink. She turned, leaning against the counter. Her black and silver uniform top for The Locker Room was on her again. Her leggings from the night before clung to her legs like a second skin.

He wondered how she could look so cute after working a hectic, busy shift, then slept all night and it barely looked like she had a hair out of place. “What?” She asked looking down at her shirt. “Do I have something on this? We’ll have to stop at my apartment first if I do. I’m not going out with you to breakfast when you look hot and I look like trash,” she frowned.

He snorted. “Y’don’t look like trash, Rookie.”

“Well, do I smell or something?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You’re beautiful. Stunning really,” he shrugged one shoulder and reached out to touch her face. He skimmed his thumb along her cheek wishing he could lean in and kiss her until they were both breathless. He smiled softly enjoying the way her cheek warmed under his touch. For someone so snarky, she was awfully shy. “Let’s go,” he tilted his head toward the main hallway. He made his way before she could read into it as he was sure she was wont to do.

Harry opened her passenger door and smiled wickedly at her as she got in. “What?” She asked, her eyebrows pinching together.

“You think I’m hot,” he sang.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Harry chuckled, closing her inside.

*

Kael didn’t play because he was injured. The report sustained it happened at practice the day before but everyone on The Chargers bench knew. Kael kept his gear on but moved to the end of the bench for the starters and lines of his teammates that would be playing. He hardly cheered, hardly moved.

The rest of The Wolves sent death glares to everyone on the team. Harry was checked into the boards more times than he could count. But every time he caught sight of the pretty photographer twirling her wrist in between photos, he felt grateful for each hit. She continued to take pictures, placing her camera into the cutouts of the glass around the ice.

Kael hid from pictures from his own media specialist, the news outlets, and even the fans during the game and in between periods.

“Coward,” Asher growled as they left the ice and headed to the locker room at the end of the game. The group that typically resided in the back of The Locker Room was livid when they found out from Harry that Kael hurt her. They too must have seen the way she twisted her wrist around between pictures. Harry wondered if she noticed she was doing it. It ate at him that it wasn’t the first time that piece of garbage hurt her. There was nothing Harry could do—well, maybe if he ever did figure out time travel, he could. But for now, he could take the hits from Kael’s stupid team and make sure the pretty photographer was okay.

Besides.

He may have had a tough game physically, but Harry was truly on cloud nine.

“Sweetheart, you good?” Lang called from the front of the line heading back toward the locker room.

“I’m good!” She answered.

Harry didn’t even care that Niall was walking alongside her and not him. Or that Callie gave her arm a squeeze when he walked by. It didn’t bother him that Asher was as irate as him either.

Because the word Styles was on her body. It was purposeful. If Kael paid attention, he would see it. He would know she supported Harry, regardless of how outlandish it was (or wasn’t) that he defended her last night. Harry knew the second he saw it, that Kael was going to look at the pretty girl with his number on her and start fuming in his seat. Maybe that’s why his team aimed for him so vehemently throughout the game as well.

Whatever, Harry could take it.

It was well worth it to see his name on her jersey.

Harry realized it was his time to shine after they went out for breakfast. He drove her to get her car at Louis’. He followed her home to the shady apartment building. He wasn’t in the mindset to leave her for any bit of time given the night before. Maybe not for a good few days either if he had it his way. They had away games coming up so they would be all but trapped together on a plane, a bus, and in a hotel so that was in his favor.

He really hoped she would be in a nearby room at the hotel. Or better yet, there wouldn’t be enough rooms, and he could share his with her.

“Why’d you choose eleven?” She asked when she came out of her room after getting ready. She was fluffing her pretty hair and tugging at the hem of the jersey that she had put on. It took a moment to register in Harry���s mind that she was talking to him and was anticipating a response. In her mind, it was no big deal that she was nonchalantly wearing his name and number. That she was by far the prettiest thing he had ever seen. The sweetest person he knew.

He swore his heart skipped a beat as his vision refocused on the lovely girl wearing his name on her back.

He cleared his throat. “S’the first number I ever got,” he shrugged. “But now I say m’so good, m’number twice.”

She grinned and laughed quietly under her breath as she put earrings on with The Chargers logo. “I like that. You are very good. I’ve seen a lot of hockey myself. I like to think I’m a good judge of ability.”

When Harry was younger, he thought if he could have a superpower, he would want to time travel. As he got older it changed a bit, he wanted super strength so he could be the strongest hockey player. Read minds so he could predict the movements of opponents on the ice. Since he met her, he returned to the tried and true: if he could time travel, he could figure out twenty seconds after he kissed her if she hated him or kiss him back, he would have done it right then.

He smirked. “So m’the lucky one today?” He asked pulling on the sleeve.

“I don’t know, does wearing someone’s jerseys constitute as lucky for the day?”

He nodded. “Yeah, very much so, Rookie.”

“Then sure; you’re very lucky, Harry,” she rolled her eyes.

Harry had to bite the inside of his lip to keep his smile from splitting his face in half. He turned away slightly and caught sight of a string of pictures on her little kitchen bar. “What’s all this?” He asked, picking up a photo and inspecting it. It was one of the ones she took while Harry was practicing before the rest of the team showed up. Another photo she got laying down on the ice of Callie’s skates when Harry wanted to rip his teammate’s arm off for holding her so close that day. One from Niall’s empty net. Another of Asher’s locker, his jersey on display. A close up of the C on Lang’s jersey. One of just the empty rink—no fans, no players, nothing.

“Oh... I don’t know,” she looked away shyly piling them together. “I was playing with the idea of making a series of photos,” she flipped one over to indicate the back showed the number three in the line. “You guys are attractive and stuff, but I thought there was a lot of beauty in the little things behind the bench, you know? It’s not just fights and points. The rink is so pretty,” she shrugged.

Harry grabbed her hand before she could stack any more of them away. He looked at each of the pictures painstakingly selected from the hundreds of photos she took each day. The way the light shone off a helmet, the way a shadow fell on the bench. “They’re beautiful, Bunny. Why don’t y’do it?”

“Do what?”

“Make it a series?”

She shook her head. “No... I don’t know. Not many people care about sports photography,” she shrugged. “Not like this anyway.”

“Rookie, I think every team owner and manager in the league would pay t’have this set in their arena.”

“No way, there’s not a single headshot of a star player. In sports, the only thing that really sells by far is you guys and your pretty faces,” she patted his cheek. “It’s tragic, I have some incredible photos of a few baseball diamonds at sunset. But there’s no fans and no players so it just wouldn’t sell well.”

“Show me,” he urged.

She sighed and put her jacket over “We’re going to be late, Harry. Uncle Charlie is already going to be annoyed with me that I’m wearing your jersey. And so will the rest of the team.”

“They all had their turn, Rookie, y’made me wait forever,” he grumbled. They didn’t have to be annoyed. They didn’t have a crush on her the way Harry did. They all knew that. His teammates were his family, but they made him cranky no less; teasing him about how smitten he was about their photographer.

She smiled sadly. “Harry,” she sighed. “I’ll show you another time.”

“Promise?” He pleaded.

“Promise?” She repeated in disbelief. Harry was nearly thirty years old and sounded like he was in kindergarten.

“Promise you’ll show me,” he said pointedly.

“Alright, yeah," She shook her head, sighed with a smile still on her lips. "I promise.”

--

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[dcxdpdabbles]

#holiday request Hi, I love your writing! Could you please update either "Danny's grill", "Congratulations! It's Triplets!" or "Phantom's number 1 fan"? Please and thank you

Jason is once again reviewing the map of potential areas Alvin could have been operating in when his burner phone rings. He snatches it up before it can pass the fourth ring, pressing it gently against his ear.

He offers no greeting. It's a tactic he uses to ensure that whoever is calling him has permission to do so. If someone attempts to conform his informants' and allies connection with him, Jason is not about to give them away by speaking first.

"Hey Boss," Honeycomb's voice filters through, edged by that familiar overdramatic southern draw she did when working. Apparently, the clients like listening to her use her accent. "I got eyes on that doll you've been searching for."

Jason sits up straighter. "Where and when?"

Honeycomb is one of the working girls who's been with him since his return to Gotham. She was the first to sign up for his protection, long before he did the whole heads in a duffle bag thing, and was one of his best eyes and ears on the street in exchange.

He didn't know her real name or age- but he was sure she wasn't underage. He made it clear he wouldn't allow it. All Jason knew about Honeycomb was that she had run away from her home in the southern states with nothing but her pretty face, blond curls, hazel eyes, and the clothes on her back.

She was feisty and could charm her way out of most problems with her silver tongue. Her manipulation of her clients was almost an art form, and she could get any information out of anyone with a well-placed hand on the air and a sweet little "darling" on her grubby lips. He often thought she would have been a lawyer if life had been fair to her.

"Just now, on Ruby Street. He was with a man in his late teenage to early twenties. About six feet five inches, black hair, blue eyes, and Caucasian. Alvin was wearing black tights and a red hoodie. The man is in jeans and a white zip-up." Honeycomb rattles in one smooth report, the huskiness of her accent making her articulation more pleasant to the ear. "Seems they were doing a photo shoot."

Jason is already moving towards his bike, switching her call to his helmet. His stomach turns slightly as he grunts, "What kind of photoshoot?"

"Not that kind, Darling. Seemed more like a scavenger hunt, according to Alvin. They are finding specific landscapes and making posses that are answers to some riddles." Honeycomb responds. Distantly, her heels clicking against the concrete echo a little louder, letting Jason know she has wandered into an alley. "I approached Alvin when the man with him went up a fire escape to take a picture with a gargoyle. I offered him my service to him as a cover. Once he confirmed his name was Alvin and he was already with a client, I left before he could get the idea I was attempting to steal his work."

"Good job." Jason boots up his bike, flying out of his hideout without hesitation. He was still twenty minutes away from Ruby Street, but if the pair was going to be a moment, he could close the distance between them and find a trail to follow once on scene.

He questions as he flies through two lanes, ignoring the honking of angry divers. "How did Alvin look? He's supposed to be with one of my contacts, so if he's with someone, it might be a John roughing him up."

I'll deal with Victorian later. He mentally swears How dare he not tell me, Alvin went back to the field after hiding out for so long without a ounce of protection.

"The sweetheart doesn't seem hurt, but I can tell his client is one of those problematic kinds." Honeycombs sighs, the edges of unease slipping into her voice. "He looks at Alvin like he's in love."

Shit. It's never suitable for working folks to meet someone who "loves" them. Nine out of ten times, it was just a wacko who became violent the moment the prostitute so much as hinted that this was only a job to them. Jason had pulled out three women's bodies from the Brown River the last time one of those clients fell in love.

Jason pressed harder on the accelerator. "Are they still there?"

Honeycomb hums "The John is on the roof now, but Alvin is waiting for him under the street pole-Oh shit!"

Jason nearly slams into a nearby car at her sudden yell. "What happened?"

She doesn't answer, but he can pick up the sound of her running and her fast breathing. He knows she is getting out of danger because if there is one thing Honeycomb is as a person, she's a survivor. He wants answers but would rather she focus on getting herself safe first.

He meanwhile, concentrates on the phone calls and the vehicles he's flying between.

It's a few minutes before she gasps. "Sorry, Darling, I had to run. Batman was on the roof with the John."

What.

"Batman just appeared out of nowhere and threw a bucket of mud at the john. Alvin didn't seem to notice, but I did. Batman made eye contact with me, so I ran." She concludes, pushing through her uneven breathing. "I have to go, Darling. Hideout before the Bats lock me up."

"That's alright. Stay safe." Jason tells her, taking a turn sharply as she hangs up the call without another word. The second she does, he double-taps his helmet to connect to the Bat communications.

"Barbie. I need to know what B is up to now."

_________________________________________________________

Bruce watches the Fae shake the mud out of his face after he has scrambled down the fire escape. Tim was at his side in a second, using a handkerchief to gently clean up the Fae's face.

There were a lot of whispered words, but based on what Bruce could pick up from lip reading, Tim had no idea he was up here. He just assumed the Fae got caught up in a juvenile prank.

Oddly enough, that was primarily due to the Fae covering for Bruce.

It was rather disappointing the repealing spell hadn't worked, but the Justice League Dark the mixture of John's Wort, primroses, and marsh marigolds mushed together with water socked in iron during the full moon should have made it possible to force the contact with Tim to break down.

Of course, this had been a desperate attempt, seeing as all the JL Dark had been unsure which method was best when he asked how to get a Fae to leave a human alone.

A lot of debate went into finding a solution, but in the end, Bruce had chosen a mixture repellent. He had even decided to use some holy water and trough in blessed soil and blessed iron just to make it extra powerful.

The magic users had all assured him it would work as long as it touched the Fae skin while Bruce chanted Tim's full legal name. It had felt rather ridiculous dragging a bucket half the size of himself through the city, trying to spot where Tim and his companion were, and even more so when he had sprinted across the rooftop screaming.

"Timothy Jackson Drake! Timothy Jackson Drake! Timothy Jackson Drake!"

The Fae had been in the middle of taking a photo. He set up his camera on a little tripod and, after pressing the time, had run to face the city- back facing Bruce- raising his arms to form a triangle above his head. Based on fact the camera was slightly lower then the Fae's torso, Bruce could deduct her was attempting to capture himself making the triangle top of one of the most iconic buildings in Gotham.

Spear tower.

He waited only long enough for the flash to go off, so by the time the Fae turned around, he had a face full of mud.

It splat all over his front, covering every inch of what should have set Tim free. The silence followed was louder than anything Bruce had ever heard, even as the Fae calmly picked up his camera and scurried to the ground.

Bruce let him go, wondering why he had failed. Thankfully, it seemed Tim and the Fae were getting back in their car- not the food truck for some reason- and were driving away.

Tonight, Bruce would find its lair and get his son home because letting him take a relaxing vacation was alarming to the rest of his children.

He rushed to the Batmobile, climbing into the driver seat and taking off after the pair. As he was driving, he could have sworn Jason just passed by him, moving like the devil was after him.

Bruce wondered briefly if he should check in on his third oldest but thought better of it when he noticed Cass, Dick, and Duke driving right behind Jason on their own bikes. His children had each other backs.

A few hours later, Bruce stood before a large empty field. He had watched the Fae drive into it and vanish from sight. None of his machines could pick up any hint on where they might have gone, but he was reasonably sure there wasn't any teleportation involved.

Sometimes teleportation left some traces in the airwaves. It's how Bruce could track people using the boom tub or find the Flash whenever Barry went on a craze.

Bruce was thinking that this was the Fae's court and his magical home was being protected by supernatural means. He just had to figure out how to get in and Tim out.

As he was considering the field, a soft, distant roar made him reach for his weapons. He turns one hand poise for a throw, his trusted batarangs in between his fingers, only to become surprised when he recognizes the vehicles driving towards him.

It was his spare Batmobile and four bird-themed motorbikes. His children.

"B?" Dick questions after spinning to a stop and sliding right in front of Bruce. He lowers his window, looking at him with apparent confusion despite the Nightwing mask blocking his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Following a lead on the Fae. What are you doing here?" Bruce asks, lowering his arm but keeping his weapon. He could never be too sure this isn't a trick.

"Following a lead on Tim." Dick responds, stepping out of his car. Two other doors open, and out steps Steph and Damian, both looking posed for a fight. Of all his children, those two tend to be the most territorial and have not taken to Tim being a semi-held hostage well. "Oracle was able to track him through the city cameras after he popped up taking photos."

"hmm"

Jason jogged over to them with Cass not far behind. "Wait,, you got a lead on your cases too? We would check in on Victorian and see if he knew anything about Alvin."

He gestures to those behind him, indicating Cass and Duke, but the daytime hero is not paying attention. Duke was staring at the field, mouth slightly open as if in awe. Bruce straightens once he realizes Duke can probably see or at least detect the magical castle.

"Victorian?" Damian asks, crossing his arms. "Who is that?"

"The owner of the giant mansion we're standing in front of. He's one of my contacts."

"Ugh, not to make you feel crazy, Hoodie," Steph speaks up, placing a hand on the crook of her hip and waving her hand to the field. "But there is literally nothing there

"What are you talking about. This place is bigger than Wayne Manor."

Bruce heard about this. Guests who have been here before or have permission to enter can see glimpses of the Otherworld that Fae deals in. However, it is surprising to know Jason has already been in contact with the Fae before and has not been kept.

Did that throw a wrench in his theory of Tim and Alvin being the same person? Why would the Fae ask Jason to find Tim if he was in the creature's home?

Before anyone could say anything else, a giant gate entrance suddenly manifested mere feet from where Bruce stood. A soft creek was heard as it was thrown open, and a glowing woman in an old mail outfit floated just a foot off the ground on the other side. She eyed them all in an eerie, emotionless face before bending her own into a low bow. "Welcome. My King wishes to invite you in."

Well, that's not ominous at all.

His children shared a look between them, silently letting each other know to be cautious as they followed the floating woman. She led them down an impressive driveway that slowly gave way to a massive mansion.

Bruce fought to keep the surprise off his face. Jason was right. This place was more prominent and grander than his manor. It didn't just scream wealth. It screamed nobility; it screamed royalty.

The group walked into the main hall, some muttering thanks to the bowing woman who opened the doors. "Of course. The King stated that his home would always be open to Master Alvin's kin."

She vanished from sight like mist fading away as soon as they crossed the doorway.

Bruce's eyes instantly landed on the figure standing atop the grand stairs. Tim was gawking at them, wearing nothing but a long, seductive black robe with fluffy collars and wrists. The front of the rob was open, displaying a large amount of chest and thigh, but keeping the significant bits out of sight.

Thankfully.

His skin was glowing, his hair tussled stylishly, and a dozen red roses were in his hands. Tim looked like he was planning a romantic evening in his get-up.

"Oh," He said dumbly. "You're not Danny."

"What the fuck is going on" Jason demanded after a long period of silence.

"Um...I was planning on seducing my friend. What are you all doing?"

"Regretting waking up this morning," Damian demands, pressing a hand over his eyes. "Please get decent. My nightmares are horrid enough."

Bruce nods. "You were Alvin Draper and are romantically involved with the Fae. He seems to be treating you well. That's good."

All of his children stared at him for a long moment before the hall erupted with displeased noises. Bruce was taken aback.

Did none of them know any of this? It seemed obvious to him.

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Simon taking care of a child with medical issues when her bio dad is a deadbeat (✿◡‿◡)

I can just imagine Simon would be so good with a little girl who has type 1 diabetes. (There's a little bit of explaining of different medical terms so you're not left hanging) BUT TRUST ME HE WOULD BE SO GOOD FOR THE BOTH OF YOU

You had gotten pregnant with your little girl, Annabeth (Beth for short), a year after being married to Ethan. He seemed ready to be a dad, but once he found out Beth has diabetes, he cares for her less and less. He went to classes with you two, learned how to calculate her bolus (amount of insulin needed at meals) and basal (baseline amount of insulin for the day), but never did them properly. She'd end up with high blood sugars all day, sometimes getting ketones (breakdown of muscle in an attempt to breakdown sugar when there's no insulin) because he wouldn't give her the right amount of insulin. She'd puke and cry from how bad she felt, and he still wouldn't take care of her properly.

It would cause you to have to come home in the middle of work to give her the insulin he wouldn't, or if she got ketones, take her to the ER. You'd constantly get into arguments that would end with him going to the pub, and you crying. He wouldn't change, no matter how many times you explained that she could die from improper inulin dosage.

Other times, he'd give her too much, and her blood sugar would drop so low she could barely drink her juice. He'd call you, saying she's barely able to move, she's sweaty and the color from her face is drained, that she's crying, and he doesn't fucking know what to do.

The divorce ended with you having full custody, you allowing small visitations that are supervised. You can't trust he will take care of her how she needs.

NOW

When you start dating Simon, you explain to him why you got divorced, and how important your baby's health is. Even more so that she's so fragile. He assures you he's nothing like your ex-husband and would go strictly by your instruction if you allow him to be a part of her life.

The first few times he was around Beth, he payed close attention to how you took care of her. One time, at the park, Beth played a bit too hard, and her blood sugar dropped. You had 2 juices with you, but she went through those so fast. Once her blood sugar went back up, she played too hard again. Without telling you, he had already brought a few juices in his car. That was the first time he took care of her.

The second time was then you had asked him to pick up her prescriptions from the pharmacy. He waited for her insulin, but they only gave one vial. He explained to them that she uses two a month and that she needs the other one. They said that was all that was ready, so he waited 2 hours until the other one was ready.

What made up your mind was when you were called into work under an emergency, and you had no one to take care of Beth. You hadn't slept well the night before so when Simon offered to watch her, you hadn't thought to explain her dosage formula to him. It wasn't until the end of your shift that you realized and sped home (definitely going over the speed limit). Rushing through the door, you were greeted with the sight of Beth laying on Simon's chest, sound asleep. How was she not sick from no insulin?

"You told me her basal, so I gave her tha'"

oh

"What about the food she ate? Did she eat? What insulin did you give her?" You asked, extremely confused.

"I looked up no carb to low carb foods so I wouldn't have to worry about tha'. She had a cheese stick with some almonds and a lil bit of mashed blueberries with cinnamon mixed in, wasn't very hungry though so she didn't really finish it" he says softly, petting her hair, "told you I'd take care of her, mama"

oh

He really wasn't like her dad.

So, it wasn't really unreasonable when after she was put to bed, you pushed him to your bedroom and took care of him too.

(All of the information in this is coming from me, a type 1 diabetic. Everyone's diabetes is a little different, so this is based off of how mine affects me)

[burningcheese-merchant]

ANSWER THIS AND YOU GET A FUNNY BURNING CHEESE COMIC

Hear me out

The ancients giving themselves up to the beasts as sacrifices if they agreed to leave earthbread alone and never wreck terror or show their faces again

I'd say everyone besides Flour would go:

Say less Babygirl*hops into a pumpkin carriage and rides off into the sunset*

Maybe Salt would need a lot of convincing because... Holy shit it could be this easy, Milk you seeing this, quick Spice snap a photo this is a moment in history

Flour is just in massive denial but would find a way to agree to mke it seem like it isn't about love or anything

Unknown3doors, don't tempt me like that 👀 don't tempt me like that, unknown3doors 👀 you're playing with fire, unknown3doors 👀🔥

Pure Vanilla surrendering to Shadow Milk would be the happiest day of Shadow's life. He makes Vanilla repeat himself multiple times, makes him announce it through a megaphone, they do a radio broadcast, Shadow makes a TV special out of it, Shadow writes poems and essays gloating and taunting... And then he eventually agrees to Vanilla's terms (although, he DOES try to haggle for permission to continue annoying people). Pure Vanilla is HIS!!! HE'S FINALLY HIS!!! FOREVER AND EVER!!!!!!! (And the Soul Jam, technically. But WHATEVER!!! HIS SILLY VANILLY!!!). Now Vanilla must endure having to spend EVERY SINGLE MINUTE of his life within 10 feet of Shadow AT ALL TIMES, or else the deal is off and Shadow will commit genocide in retaliation. Why the long face, though? You agreed to this! You knew this would happen! Maybe if Vanilla behaves well enough, like a good little doll, Shadow will allow himself to be HIS doll for a time. Tit for tat. It's only fair. They can be each other's playmate for eternity now...

Eternal Sugar would be 100% awake for the first time in forever if Hollyberry offered herself to her - in exchange for anything at all, it never had to have been for keeping innocents safe. Typical of Holly, in her estimate; she's not necessarily surprised by this. Maybe she'll feign a bit of surprise just because, maybe she'll tease Holly about it... But all in all, she's quite pleased. Now she can keep those pesky subjects of Holly's away from her much easier (as well as her friends... Including that ridiculous dragon...). Holly will learn to see things her way eventually. Appreciate the little things. Like a nice, long nap in a warm bed, in the arms of a loved one... Pleasant, sugary sweet dreams that are too comforting to wake up from... No one ever bothering them about anything ever again. Free from their responsibilities, free from the burden of the shield and the crown. Just the two of them in their own little world, pursuing their own happiness. Won't that be nice?

Mystic Flour would struggle to even entertain Dark Cacao's presence, never mind his... proposal (oh gods, not that word). She would refuse, and refuse, and refuse again. But Cacao does not give up, stubborn fool that he is. Curse his Light of Resolution... Eventually, in lieu of plainly refusing, she tries to appeal to reason. What about his kingdom? His people? What would they say, think, do? Will he leave them behind just to keep her pacified? What about his friends? His son? Who will rule in his absence? Unfortunately, Cacao has an answer for every single one of her questions... and, with an even greater undertone of misfortune... she likes them. That part of her that likes HIM also likes this. That he always has an answer for everything she says. That he won't bend the knee to her, no matter what. His self-sacrificing nature, bordering on martyrdom... just like hers once was. In truth, every word out of her mouth is only serving to delay her inevitable acceptance of his offer. A feeble attempt at shooing him away, one final shot at denying her feelings towards him, for having him around her constantly would be too much to bear, and she might... She... She'll break. She knows she will. And she can't have it. She won't stand for it.

... Dark Cacao, stubborn, handsome, selfless fool that he is. He has undone everything she ever worked for. Her apathy meant nothing the moment they locked eyes. It means nothing now, as they go back and forth about this foolish deal of his. And it won't mean anything when she eventually says yes.

(But she'll try to pretend otherwise, for as long as she can. Neither of them could handle the truth...)

Golden Cheese: Burning Spice, if you leave everyone else alone, I'll give myself to-

Burning Spice: DEAL!!!!!!!!! *pounces on her before she can actually finish or explain herself any further... What he does next, I'll let you imagine/decide 😉*

Silent Salt... wouldn't even believe it at first. He'd be astounded. Dumbfounded, really, that White Lily would say such a thing... Is this really her? Is someone forcing her to do this? What is the catch? Enough reassurance from her would convince him that she's being real and sincere and every other word that can be used to describe her deal, and... he accepts it. No other ifs, ands or buts. His White Lily... now, she really IS his White Lily. Forever and ever... He doesn't mind having to keep away from society; that's hardly a punishment. It costs him nothing. And if his White Lily is there with him, he won't even notice the difference...

[mayrose713]

Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 20

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

Chapter 20

“Wow, the view from here is insane. I can’t believe this is just down the street from the house.” Y/n looks out the large glass windows that make up the cafe up on a hill looking over the beach. “And all those boats out there.”

“This side of the island is a pretty good fishing spot this time of year.” Changbin smiles at her as they are waiting in line to order drinks.

“Do you guys like to go fishing?” She finally turns away from the windows for the first time to look at her two dates. 

“Not really.” Jisungs shakes his head. “Main thing is Minho doesn’t like water, so.”

“He seemed to be fine on the ferry we took to get here.”

“It’s because it’s a bigger boat than one you would go fishing on.” Changbin chuckles. “Plus he’s done the trip so many times he’s used to it by now. He hated it the first few times we came down here.”

“Though he doesn’t usually stay in the water for very long, so the fact that he stayed for a while when we had our beach day really says something.” Jisung thinks about it a little. “Maybe it's because of you that he’s getting more comfortable with it.”

“I doubt that.” The omega gives a small snort before finally looking up at the menu board as they are getting closer to the front of the line. “What are you guys getting?”

“Ice americanos.” They two males say at the same time making Y/n laugh when they look at each other shocked. 

“What do you want to drink, angel?” Jisung wraps his arm around her shoulders. 

“Well, I’ve never actually had coffee before.” She continues to scan the menu. “And I don’t want to get one to try in case I don’t like it.”

“You can try ours to see if you like it for next time.” Changbin nudges her shoulder. “Though I feel like you’ll be like Felix and won’t like it. But they do have smoothies if you want that.”

Y/n looks at the smoothies part of the menu and sighs. “There’s so many flavors, how do you choose?” 

“We’ll pick one for you.” The beta squeezes her shoulders. “Are there any fruits you don’t like?”

“Pineapple.”

“Alright, we won’t pick anything with pineapple.” Jisung laughs. 

Once it’s their turn Changbin steps up to the counter to order while Jisung and Y’n stand near the side, the older swaying them a little as they wait for their alpha. 

“Can I get two large ice americanos and one large strawberry banana smoothie?”

Once they’ve gotten their drinks they walk out of the cafe and instead of heading down to the beach like Y/n thought, they lead her across the street to a large park and garden. 

“Here, pretty girl, try it.” Changbin hands her his Americano and she takes a sip only to make a face with a scrunched up nose making both males laugh. “I figured you wouldn’t like it.”

“Made the same face Lixie always makes.” Jisung shakes his head. 

“How’s the smoothie?” Changbin asks after she hands him back his drink and immediately drinks hers. 

“So much better than yours, that’s for sure.” She then looks around as they start walking through the park. “So what is this place?” 

“Jeju is known for having a lot of beautiful parks and gardens.” Jisung grabs her hand that isn’t holding her drink. “This one is one of my favorites and not just because it’s walking distance from the house meaning I can walk here with either an alpha or a beta.” 

“Usually Jinnie takes him so he can paint while Ji walks around the place.” Changbin looks at the beta. “But he wanted so badly to take you here too and asked if this could be our date.” 

“Aww, Jisungie.” Y/n leans her head against his shoulder. “Where’s yours and Hyun's favorite place to go in here?”

“Follow me.” 

Jisung leads the two through the park and into the guarded area. Hundreds of different flowers are blooming and the smells are amazing. They go to a bridge over a small river and they can hear the sound of a waterfall. 

“This is both of our favorite spot.” Jisung points to the waterfall with trees hanging over it, flower petals falling off the branches into the water. 

The omega gasps at how beautiful it is. “Wow Ji, this place is amazing.”

“Look in the water.” Changbin leans into her side pointing just below them. “A bunch of koi fish.”

“They’re so pretty.” 

“Come on, there’s more.” 

Jisung drags the two of them around the whole garden. They would occasionally sit on a bench and take in the scenery. Y/n remembering she has a phone again started taking pictures of everything. She sent a few to Hyunjin asking if he could paint her a mural of one of them on her wall in her room. And the three of them took a few pictures together sending them to the group chat after realizing they need to take pictures with Y/n now as they don’t have any. 

“Woah.” Y/n’a eyes light up as they reach the exit of the garden on the other side of the park where there are trees lining the path, millions of flower petals littering the ground and more still falling. 

She runs ahead of them to go down the path and they follow along smiling at her. 

“You chose a good date Ji.” The alpha takes the youngest’s hand and uses his other to take pictures of the girl. “I don't think we've ever seen her like this before.” 

“I hope we get to see this more often now.”

They reach the end of the path where their omega is waiting for them with a huge smile.

“You’ve got flower petals in your hair, baby.” Changbin chuckles and lets go of Jisungs hand and they both start picking the petals off of her. 

“The next time we come to the island can we go to more of the parks and gardens?” 

“I’m sure we can.” Jisung grins. “Remember, the alphas can’t say no to Lix and I. Adding you in when asking for stuff, oh they’re done for.” 

Changbin hits him on the back of the head, making him pout. “Don’t go having any ideas.” 

The alpha then takes Y/n’s hand and she grabs Jisungs and they start walking through the park to head back to the house. They see some pups playing on the playground and a pack set up at one of the gazebos. 

“Y/n?” A teen beta girl walks over to the three of them and gets excited at seeing the omega. “Oh my god it is you.” She runs up to her and hugs her, Y/n stands in shock letting go of both of her dates hands, before the teen turns and calls to a younger alpha boy. “Kwan, go get grandma and grandpa, it’s Y/n.” 

“No, Nobi…” But Y/n was too late as Kwan has already run off to the gazebo to grab two of the adults and she turns to her two mates after letting go of the teen. “We need to go.” 

“Why are you going? We haven’t seen you in two weeks.” Nobi pouts. “Grandma said you went to visit your dad in Japan. What are you doing here? And who are they?”

“Nobi, I need to go.” She’s getting desperate to leave now and Changbin and Jisung can tell. 

“Let's go, Y/n.” Changbin wraps his arm around her trying to move her past the teen but they weren’t fast enough as Kwan was already back with an older alpha male and a beta female. 

“Y/n, there you are.” The beta gasps and smiles walking up to her, grabbing her from Changbin to hug. Y/n stands still in both shock and fear. “Where have you been? You just ran off and we tried looking for you. Someone found your car abandoned at a park but you were nowhere around and no one came forward as witnesses.”

“But you told us she went to Japan.” Kwan looks at the two adults confused before looking at the omega then at Nobi.

“You two go back to playing with the other pups.” The older alpha tells them both. “You’ll be able to talk and ask Y/n questions later.”

They watch the teens run off as Changbin grabs Y/n pulling her back towards him and Jisung protectively, not liking the situation. The older male sees this, eyes narrowing at the scene. 

“Thank you gentlemen for bringing our omega back to us.” He gives a forced smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “As her pack alpha we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again, we can’t thank you enough.”

“We’re not leaving her with you.” Jisung says out of nowhere, shocking even himself at his outburst as it usually isn’t like him, but he doesn't want Y/n to be taken from them.

“And who do you think you are to decide that?” The alpha steps closer to Jisung causing him to cower which Changbin wasn’t going to allow.

“Y/n’s fated mates, that’s who.”

“Even if you are, she’s still under my pack. I haven’t given her to anyone yet.” The man snarls and roughly grabs the girl's wrist, pulling her to him causing her to whimper. 

Y/n doesn’t know what to do or say as her wrist now throbs from how hard he grabbed her. She feels her phone vibrating in her pocket but is too scared to move.

The older female looks Y/n over as if pretending to make sure she’s okay and gasps when she sees Chan's mating bite on one side of her neck. “You claimed her?”

“You claimed my granddaughter without even talking to me first?” He gets mad and shoves Changbin a little. 

“STOP!” 

Y/n’s grandfather looks at her angrily, questioning if she really just dared to speak. “What?” 

“Stop.” She says again, tears pooling at her waterline. “I’m not coming back with you. I’m going back home, with them.” 

“Y/n, we’ve been worried sick about you, we didn’t know where you went.”

“Then why didn’t you ever report her as missing?” Changbin asks, moving Jisung behind him as he tries to get closer to his omega to take her back. “You say you’ve been worried about her but yet she’s been gone for two weeks and there was never a missing persons report filed, I know because we checked. And if you really cared about her so much then why was she bruised, malnourished, and timid when we first found her?”

“Whatever that bitch told you is a lie.” He growls, hating that his own morals are being questioned. “She’s not mentally sane in the head anyways. Why she needs to come back with us.” He looks at the girl again and eyes narrow on the other side of her neck now seeing Felix and Minho’s bites and scoffs. “Always knew you were a slut, getting claimed by more than one man.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She hisses trying to walk past him back to her mates but he grabs her wrist again and when she tries to pull away he slaps her cheek making her stop in shock. 

Her grandfather moves to grab her again making the omega freak out as she tries to scurry away from him causing her to trip over her feet and fall to the ground. 

“Get the fuck away from her.” Changbin rushes forward grabbing the other male just as sirens are heard along with several yelling voices heading their way.

______________________________________________________________

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[starlvcied]

₊˚⊹♡ rin itoshi x f!reader " FRAMED RIVALRY " CHAPTER 001

in which your academic rival, aka the captain of the soccer team, sneaks his way into the photography club with you. ꨄ︎ CHAPTER 001

cw: swearing (a lot) , rin definitely needs therapy wc : 3k

the sun shines down on the soccer field, casting shadows across the grass. you adjust the lens on your camera, the clicking of the shutter becoming a steady rhythm in the background as you move, trying your best to capture the intensity of the game. your fingers are quick and precise as you focus on each shot, freezing the action in time. the soccer players, all in their matching uniforms, run with a kind of urgency, their feet pounding the ground with every stride.

you’ve been a part of the photography club for two years now but no matter how often you’re on the sidelines of these games, there’s always something inspiring about watching the players. you find yourself naturally drawn to the skill, the precision of it all—except for one player.

rin itoshi, the captain of the soccer team, moves differently. the aura he gives off on the field is magnetic, but in a way that makes you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something dangerous. he’s tall, lean, his movements calculated. his sharp, teal eyes never seem to leave the ball, and his hair falls just enough to obscure part of his vision—but somehow, it only enhances his intensity. 

you didn't like him. it seemed as if nobody actually liked rin itoshi. people just pretended to like him because he’s “cool”. he’s a rude, egotistical snob who thought he was better than everyone. you didn't pay him any mind in the halls, or when he would roll his eyes when you got a question right, though. there are a lot of rude people in the world, and your motto was “just smile and nod.”

you snap a picture of him, the ball seemingly suspended in midair as he prepares to strike. just as you click the shutter, a player from the opposing team rushes past you, and you stumble, your foot catching on the uneven turf. ouch.

the next thing you know, you’re colliding into someone—a solid body, a slight grunt, and then the unmistakable feeling of being pinned against the grass. your camera, thank goodness, is still in your hands, though you can feel the strap digging into your wrist from the awkward angle.

“sorry! i didn’t mean—”

but the person you’ve collided with doesn’t respond. you glance up quickly, your heart sinking as you realize who it is: rin itoshi. his teal eyes don’t even flicker toward you. instead, he simply pushes past you with a scoff, his sharp features barely shifting as he continues his stride across the field, his focus entirely on the game.

you’re left standing there like an idiot, with nothing but the faint echo of your own voice hanging in the air. you’ve been so used to getting nods, polite acknowledgments even from strangers, yet, for rin, you might as well not have existed at all. and that pissed you off.

you try to shake off the embarrassment, but it sticks with you like a bitter taste in your mouth. maybe it’s because you’ve never been completely ignored before. maybe it’s because you’ve heard the rumors about him—how he’s cold, distant, and borderline unapproachable. and now you understood how those statements came to be. still, it doesn’t help that he’s the kind of person who has no time for anyone unless they’re on his level—or so it seems.

the next morning, you arrive at school, the early bell ringing through the hallways. you’ve almost forgotten about the incident, tucked it away in the back of your mind where it doesn’t sting quite so much. but then the announcements come, calling for all students to gather in the classroom for a project assignment.

you’re a second year now, and the pressure of being in the student government and managing your club is always there, a subtle weight on your shoulders. so when the teacher announces the project topic, your focus sharpens.

debate. the topic? “do leaders need to be emotionally detached to succeed?” it’s a complex one, but it’s right up your alley. you’ve always been interested in leadership, in the psychology behind decision-making. but then the next part hits you: “for this project, you’ll each be paired with someone and will have a debate against another group.”

you glance around the room, already sizing up your potential partners. it’s all in good fun—until the teacher reads the names. and then your heart sinks.

“y/n, you’ll be paired with rin itoshi.”

you swallow thickly, the name ringing in your ears like an unwanted echo. rin itoshi? the same rin who so rudely ignored you yesterday?

your mind starts to race. the two of you could not be more different in your approach to leadership. you’ve always believed in understanding others, being empathetic and connected. rin, on the other hand, leads through sheer control, his focus on the end result rather than the people involved. emotionally detached? he practically embodies it. but could you find common ground on this topic?

the tension between you isn’t just academic—it’s personal. you’ve heard rumors about his cold nature, his obsession with soccer, and his overwhelming pride. he doesn’t care about anyone unless they can help him with his goals. and now, here you are, forced into a partnership with him for the most important debate of the semester.

the teacher hands out the project guidelines, and you find yourself sitting next to rin. his presence next to you feels almost suffocating. he doesn’t look at you as you sit down, his expression unreadable. his posture is straight, his focus already on the project—though whether that focus is on you or the assignment is unclear. 

this is going to be a long few weeks.

the days that follow the project announcement feel strangely heavier, as though the universe has decided to test your patience. you and rin Itoshi are thrust into a partnership that feels more like a battlefield than a collaboration.

the first meeting, if it could even be called that, happens during lunch. you find him sitting at one of the tables in the library, already with a notebook open, pen poised in hand. he doesn’t look up when you approach, not even when you slide into the chair across from him.

as the nice person you were, you went out of your way to stop at the nearest cafe outside of the place you had agreed to meet up. you ordered two iced americanos and buttered croissants. it wasnt pleasant working on an empty stomach. you got comfortable in your seat before speaking.

“i brought you some co-”

“i don't drink that.” he interrupted with the roll of his eyes, pushing the coffee away from him and back in your direction. your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. okay, maybe you shouldn't have assumed that he liked americanos, or coffee in general, but he could have definitely been more polite about it.

“okay, im so-”

“let’s get this over with.” he interrupted once more, reaching over to grab a ballpoint pen from his bag. you sighed, your eye twitching as you tried not to go off on this guy. it wasn’t worth it.

“so, how do you want to tackle this? should we split the research, or—”

he interrupts you with a single, clipped sentence, barely a glance in your direction. “i’ll take care of the facts. you handle the emotional arguments.” could he stop cutting you off?

your brow furrows at the dismissal. first he continuously cuts you off, and he isn’t asking for your input, isn’t interested in collaborating in any meaningful way. you can already tell that this will be one of those “i do everything, and you just follow along” situations. but you’ve dealt with arrogant people before. and you’re not the type to back down easily.

“i’m not just here to fill in the emotional side,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “we’re supposed to argue the same side, remember? that means we both need to agree on a stance. i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you and i have very different ideas about what leadership even is.”

rin’s eyes flicker up at last, his teal gaze meeting yours for the first time in days. there’s a sharpness there, a challenge, but it’s not enough to throw you off balance. not yet.

“you’re overcomplicating this,” rin says flatly, his voice cold as ever. “leadership doesn’t need feelings. It needs results. leaders who rely on emotions are weak.” his words cut through the air, the arrogance thick in them. “so shut the hell up. i’ll prove that whats right in the debate. you just need to back me up.”

there it is—the familiar arrogance that laces every word he speaks. you resist the urge to roll your eyes. he’s treating this as if it’s a one-man show, like your opinion doesn’t matter at all.

“i think you’re missing the point,” you reply, trying to keep your composure. “you can’t discount emotions entirely. understanding them is what makes a good leader. you’ll never connect with the people you lead if you don’t even try to understand them.”

rin narrows his eyes at you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It’s like he’s testing you, trying to provoke some kind of reaction. “are you trying to tell me that a leader should let their emotions cloud their judgment?”

“are you a fucking idiot? no, i’m saying a leader should be aware of their emotions and how they affect others. you can’t just bulldoze over everyone and expect them to follow you.”

there’s a beat of silence, and for a moment, you think he might actually engage with you—maybe even acknowledge your point. but instead, he leans back in his chair, the smirk still lingering on his face.

“fine,” he says, almost bored. “prove it, then. if you think emotions matter so much, show me how they’ll get the results we need.” his voice is a little quieter now, but the challenge is unmistakable. “but don’t waste my fucking time.”

the air between you two is thick with tension, an unspoken understanding passing between you. this won’t be easy. and it certainly won’t be fun. but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to back down. something about the way he challenges you—pushes you to be better, even in this strange, antagonistic way—lights a fire inside of you.

“fine,” you say, your voice steady. “i’ll prove it. but don’t think for a second that i’ll just let you steamroll me into agreeing with you.”

rin shrugs, as though he couldn’t care less about your resolve. “we’ll see.”

you both return to your work, each of you diving into your research. but the tension between you doesn’t fade. it simmers, thick and heavy, like something waiting to boil over.

the next few days blur together, the steady rhythm of research and debate preparation keeping you both busy. despite the friction between you, you can’t deny that there’s something undeniably effective about working with rin. his sharp focus on results, his ability to cut through distractions—it’s almost admirable. but it’s also maddening, because you know he’s only interested in his own perspective. and you’re stuck trying to make him see yours.

you’ve made some progress in gathering emotional case studies, examples of leaders who were able to harness their emotions to drive their teams to success. it’s compelling material, but every time you bring it up, rin shoots it down. “that’s all sentimental crap,” he’d say. “it doesn’t matter if they felt something. what matters is what they achieved.”

it’s frustrating. but you can’t give up. 

finally, the day of the debate arrives. you walk into the classroom, the desks now arranged to represent a court room, nerves buzzing in your stomach. you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge, but the thought of standing side by side with rin—who is so self-assured, so completely confident in his ability to win—makes the pit in your stomach tighten.

when rin walks in, he’s his usual self—cold, distant, but somehow commanding. his eyes sweep the room briefly, and then he makes his way to his desk, taking his seat without a word. you don’t even exchange pleasantries.

the debate begins, and the first few minutes pass in a blur of facts and figures. rin speaks with the kind of authority that only someone like him could wield. but you’ve prepared just as well. you know your material, and you’re determined to make your points count.

as the debate progresses, the audience grows increasingly engaged. your argument is strong, but rin’s is relentless. his words are sharp, calculated. it’s clear that he’s trying to wear you down, to undermine your confidence as if you’re the one he's debating against. and the tension between you grows thicker with every word spoken.

the days slip by, and you and rin seem to be locked in a battle of wits, neither of you willing to give an inch. despite the constant friction, a strange kind of understanding is starting to form between you. it’s not friendship—not by any stretch—but there’s an undeniable force that pulls you together, even if it’s mostly out of mutual stubbornness.

and then, without warning, something happens that catches you completely off guard.

it’s a wednesday afternoon when you first notice him.

you’re at the photography club meeting, organizing the week’s shoot plans and sorting through the photos from the last session. the room is small and cozy, filled with the soft hum of conversation and the clicking of camera shutters. it’s your safe haven—your space to let your creativity flow without anyone judging you. as well as the place where you and your two best friends crack up a storm almost 24/7. at least it used to be.

you glance up from your camera, surprised to see rin itoshi standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his gaze sharp as always. he surveys the room, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his lips, before his eyes finally settle on you. his usual smirk is nowhere to be found, but there’s something just as dangerous in the way he looks at you.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, your tone a mixture of surprise and suspicion. “this is the photography club, not whatever you're thinking it is."

rin doesn’t respond immediately. instead, he steps into the room, a hand on your shoulder as he moved you to the side with the same quiet confidence he always carries. “i’m here to join,” he says simply, his arm dropping to his side, his voice flat but laced with something you can’t quite place.

your brow furrows in disbelief. “join? why would you want to join the photography club?”

he shrugs nonchalantly, though his eyes never leave yours. “maybe i just like photography.”

“‘maybe i just like photography’ my ass,” you thought. you stare at him, trying to gauge whether he’s serious. the arrogance that typically surrounds rin’s every move is still there, but this time, it’s tempered with something else—a kind of unreadable intent. you want to scoff, to call him out on the fact that you both know he’s only here to stir up trouble, but something about his response keeps you from doing so.

“right,” you mutter, clearly unconvinced. “well, this isn’t a competition. if you’re here to just… mess around, fuck off.”

rin doesn’t even blink at your words. instead, he steps further into the room as if he owns the place and grabs the nearest camera, inspecting it with the kind of precision that makes it clear he knows what he’s doing. there’s no hesitation in his movements, as if he’s done this a hundred times before. his gaze flicks over the camera, his fingers adjusting the lens as if it’s second nature.

the other club members watch with a mix of curiosity and confusion. rin Itoshi, captain of the soccer team and the most notorious loner in school, is standing in your domain, looking every bit the part of someone who belongs. 

“i’ll take a few shots,” rin announces, his voice almost bored. “see what i can do with this.”

you stand there, speechless, watching as he lifts the camera and starts taking pictures of the club members. each shot is precise, deliberate. there’s no denying it—he’s good, great, even. he doesn’t just like photography; he’s skilled, his confidence in handling the camera evident.

still, you can’t shake the feeling that this is a game to him. that he’s here to prove something, even if he’s not admitting it. you feel your irritation flare up again, and you can’t help but retort, “you’re not just here because you like photography. you just want to outdo everyone, like you always do.” ‘you stuck up piece of shit,’ you wanted to add, but you didn't.

rin glances over at you, that same unreadable expression on his face. he’s still holding the camera, his eyes flickering with something almost imperceptible. “no need to make everything a competition,” he replies coolly, his voice lacking the usual bite, but the edge is still there. those words sounded funny coming from his mouth. “i told you, i just like photography. where’s the.. leader? or whatever.”

“you’re looking right at her.” you said, placing your hand on your hip. he gave you a scoff and an unconvinced look.

“got a problem?”

“i do not.”

you narrow your eyes at him, but you don’t press further. he’s not giving you anything to work with, and you know he’s not going to back down or admit anything.

“fine,” you say, the frustration bubbling in your chest. “but if you want to join, you better pull your weight. this club isn’t just for show, soccer boy.”

rin simply shrugs. “we’ll see, camera girl.” he says, turning his attention back to the camera. and just like that, it’s as if nothing has changed—except now, rin itoshi, the most competitive person you know, is in your club. and he’s not here for the reasons he claims.

don't feel like proofreading this whoops

tags : @mixolya

[persicipen]

𑑛 “IN HIS HANDS” ﾉ ALHAITHAM. GENSHIN IMPACT

gn reader ﾉ words 1.4k ✘ you’re a mess (affectionately). needy making out. sweet bantering. also fingering. he gives you the best orgasm of your life ✘ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Whatever has happened between you two — an exchange of sorts, that’s for sure, filled with misunderstood sentences and apologies and laughter — now dawns on you in the form of his handsome body closing the distance between you two. Alhaitham grins at that, such a smug smile of victory painting his face because he’s well aware that your initial reluctance was because of your bashfulness.

Still, he’d appreciate it a lot if you weren’t so quick to call him a blockhead when denying what you truthfully want. He knows you don’t mean anything bad by it; just some harmless teasing to get back at him when he makes jokes about the time when he couldn’t speak right with a hint of self-derision.

“I’m starting to think you’re too scared to admit I will make you feel a tad too good, hmm.” His lips find yours once again, but this time they have no hurry — the kiss is deep and passionate and every inch of his body comes to meet with yours, trapping your frame underneath.

“You t-think of yourself too highly!” You bite back with a giggle before a low moan of contentment escapes your mouth.

For someone so inscrutable around the edges he sure knows how to work that tongue, tasting every part of you with utmost care. In between kisses, you realise how silly all this is. Why can’t you just let go of any formality and give in to such a splendid idea? If not for you, then at least for him; he seems to have much better plans and an even absurder mind than you ever dared to explore. Surprisingly, as stiff as he appears at first glance because no way anyone would assume a scribe has such lewd thoughts running wild behind those turquoise eyes.

Well, you aren’t so dull-witted either. A bold move of your fingers against his pants makes him hum a wee louder, which encourages you to act with a bit more urgency and tug at the buttons to get them loose. Albeit it takes but one swift movement from his hand to stop you from doing so — he grabs your wrist midway and pulls away just enough to look down at you with mischief gleaming in his red irises. The kind of gleeful expression only a man who knows what’s coming next would show.

“Tch, how impatient can you be…”

You should’ve counted his remark as a threat given the treatment that follows. You should’ve known that the greatest weapon of the scribe is his fingers. And so, with touching and pressing and tapping and massaging, he moulds your body into that pliant self. His name leaves your lips as a quiet sigh, all previous complaints forgotten thanks to such attentive and tender ministrations.

No matter how heavenly it feels already, being touched and taken care of like this, your gut churns with frustration and dissatisfaction since his actions are purposely geared towards getting you riled up instead of helping you reach any sort of release. Though you aren’t about to ask for that with words, not yet anyway. If he needs more incentive to keep going further, though…

You attempt to untangle your trapped arm once again, fumbling a little while holding onto his shoulder. He arches an eyebrow with curiosity when his own light gasp breaks through the facade of such an adept liar. Still, the twitch and swelling of his cock in his pants confirm how much it took out of him to keep silent thus far.

“Why won’t you let yourself go, too?” You breathe out once your wrist is freed. The pads of your fingers tease his jawline, ghosting over his skin until they dip below his chin to lift his head slightly. He is confused by your inquiry, but not discouraged, per se, especially now that you look quite motivated to get him hot as well. “You think the only one enjoying this should be me… What happened with ‘I also deserve some of it’, huh?”

Your free hand slides downwards to grasp his crotch. Through the thick fabric, you notice how hard he is; that must’ve been painful indeed. It’s enough evidence for you to rub and squeeze a little, which prompts a satisfied growl from him, a sign that you’re right on track.

“Later. It is about you, after all.” His response comes in the shape of kisses along your neck and collarbones, though never enough to bruise — merely a tiny amount of pressure for you to remember it’s he who left them there.

At times, it almost tickles how delicate his lips are upon your skin, like feathers falling down a flock of birds flying high in the skies. The warmth that emanates from them, however, reminds you of where else you’d like to feel those lips. Alas, he works on you with his thumb and his other digits instead, stroking in circular motions that cause goosebumps to run up and down your whole figure.

It isn’t long until you arch your back ever so slightly, trying to escape what’s beginning to drive you insane; or at least crave something more than that. Every nerve under your sensitive spots is alight, yearning for more stimulation than his meek actions, even when that palm of his brushes against every sensitive area that turns your vision blurry.

You beg him to slow down, to give you some time to relax after barely reaching your high; he is merciless, dragging the pads of his fingers against the spongy spot deep inside of you, trying to force out of you another cry of pleasure. It crashes upon you like thunder during a heavy storm. Alhaitham’s touch makes you clench and curl into yourself without an ounce of shame. All of your attention lays solely on those fingertips dancing so flawlessly through your throbbing body, driving you mad.

His eyes, burning with a prideful need to prove his knowledge, are focused on your glowing face. Absolutely mesmerised by the moans escaping your mouth, Alhaitham finds a great passion in making you a mess — it feels so good knowing he can reduce you to such a state, mewling his name with tears gathering under your lashes.

He takes you into his muscular arms, tongue licking your tender skin, leaving behind wet trails. A shudder runs through you as he pulls back, your body falling limply on the plush mattress below you. His breath is heavy and ragged, looking at you like this — with lust. Once he is satisfied, he lets go of the last drops of moisture that managed to make it to your thighs. He draws himself closer to you, resting his forehead against yours as he whispers sweet praise into your ear.

“You were doing so well…” Spoken in his breathy, shuddering voice, it echoes through your heart, down to your core clenching on nothing but the remaining wetness.

It only makes you feel even more sensitive than before, and you cannot help but let out an audible moan again. You can almost hear the sound vibrating throughout his body as well, and he knows he will not have the strength to stop now, especially after what just happened between you. He kisses your neck once more, his hand reaching underneath your blouse, running his rough fingertips along your skin.

You whine again, sensing goosebumps rise all over your figure at his touch. He begins kissing all of your face, leaving you gasping for air. You close your eyes tightly and try to keep your breathing steady, but his hands roam through your chest, teasing you in a way that seems to know your weakest spots — driving you crazy.

After a while, when his lips leave your skin, the scribe rests his chin on your shoulder, both of you staring at each other without saying a word.

“Are you still okay?” he asks softly, a gentle smile playing around his mouth and his fingers trailing gently up your stomach.

“I am. I’m sorry I ruined the bedsheets though,” you say apologetically, feeling the embarrassment creeping up your spine.

You have never done anything like this before. Never experienced anything of such intensity.

“It’s fine,” he replies, a small laugh breaking past his lips as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again…” he whispers seductively, his gaze fixated on yours.

Your cheeks burn, and you nod slowly, biting your lip as you turn your head away from him, trying so hard not to show how affected you are. It isn’t easy, seeing Alhaitham looking at you in that kind of manner. How could you refuse this man?

[immortalmrwavell]

Gym Tradition

(Original story posted October 8th 2022) Exactly as it was

This story was inspired by a prompt given to me by @tf-lover

I stepped towards the shower with an excitement bubbling in my chest. I could already hear his heavy footsteps behind me. This was always my favourite part. The sound of a towel being tossed to the side was drowned out as I twisted the shower handle. Within seconds warm water was cascading down my body, relaxing me for what was to come.

My body shuddered a little as a pair of large hands slid around my waist from behind. Looking down I grinned. I already had a pretty good idea who he’d taken over for me. There weren't many men at the gym today with such large dark skinned hands and there was one in particular I knew he’d had his eye on.

“Is that Mike?” I muttered just as the man pressed himself against my back, his semi-hard cock already feeling huge as it rubbed against my ass and lower back.

“Mhmm” He replied simply as his hands roamed my body. “I know we’ve used him before but he just looked so damn sexy today. When I saw him getting undressed I just couldn’t help myself.”

My boyfriend Eric and I have had this little tradition for a while now. Whenever the two of us go to the gym together, we’ll always scout out the other men at the gym. Size them up, inspect their bodies from afar, etc. Then once we’re finished, one of us will wait around in the locker room for one of those men to come through looking all hot and sweaty from his workout. And then, when nobody is looking, we’ll steal that guy’s body by jumping inside and possessing him! This time it was Eric’s turn to surprise me and he certainly didn’t disappoint.

“No need to apologise.” I smirked as I turned my head slightly and looked up to see none other than Mike, one of the local hunks that frequented the gym. “You wear his body so fuckin well.” I felt his cock twitch and harden a bit more as I said that while a cocky grin spread across his face.

The two of us shared a short but sweet kiss before he turned me back around and pressed me against the shower wall. “Oh I know. Why do you think I always get us to come to the gym on days that he’s around?” He chuckled but before I could respond he swiftly plunged his thick black cock inside me.

The shower continued to rain down on both of us though it did little to mask the groans. I’m always surprised at how no other men seem to walk in on us when we do this. I suppose they probably know better when they start to hear that lewd slapping noise of heavy balls smacking against an ass. Sometimes those balls were mine like yesterday when I took over another hunk, Dane, and went to town on Eric’s ass. But now it was Eric’s turn and he wasn’t holding anything back!

‘Mike’ slammed his massive rod into me relentlessly, holding onto my hips as he did to make sure he went as deep as possible. His hungry assault didn’t let up even for a second. Only growing more furious by the moment as he slammed against my prostate again and again. I could see why he liked this body so much, it’s stamina was insane! I’d already shot my load from his pounding alone!

Despite that though I was still just as hungry as he was. Hungry for his cock. Hungry for his load. And boy did he deliver. A loud, manly roar echoed through the shower room and probably the locker rooms as well as ‘Mike’ began draining his balls. His fat cock pumping me with load after load of thick cum, filling me up to the brim.

“Fuuuuuck Eric… that was amazing…” I muttered as he wrapped his arms around me again.

“Who’s Eric?” He grinned. “The only one here is Mike” He shifted his cock around inside me causing me to grunt a little. With that he leaned down against my ear and whispered. “Maybe we should find a way to make these possessions a bit more… permanent.”

[mscherub]

Operation: Kiss the Prefect

Azul Ashengrotto x Reader (Valentine’s Day Special <3)

Reader is gender neutral, referred to as Prefect, Y/N, or Shrimpy(by Floyd)

Tags: Fluff, romance, based off the boat scene in The Little Mermaid, funny

Warnings: Mentions of things in book 3; slight spoilers, spelling mistakes are very likely!

Blurb: Samuel(My Twisted ver. Of Sebastian) and Finn(My Twisted ver. Of Flounder) make up a plan, also including Sully(My Twisted ver. Of Scuttle), to get you and Azul together finally. Things happen and the Tweels find out. Based off the infamous boat scene and song “Kiss the Girl,” in The Little Mermaid :)

Azul is calculated, strong witted in every situation that he could possibly think of, a good trait to have, especially from where he originates. He was prepared with rebuttals and convincing phrases that got any poor unfortunate souls to bend to his whim and agree to his words, which, were always often fabricated, of course for the betterment of his business, don’t you know? Although, he overworks himself, and he rarely pays attention to other things in his life, just business, business, business, and more business, always focusing on it.

And honestly, this just ticked off two of the first year dorm members of Octavinelle. It really did! They watched their Housewarden sketch away at his contracts and focusing solely on money, and they know if they don’t give him a little push then he’ll only know his work for the rest of his life. A little push for what exactly? Well, it’s just so painfully obvious how much Azul likes you, the Prefect. It’s so easy to tell, yet he’s using his work as a distraction to hide his true feelings it seems.

They watch how he stumbles over his words when you talk to him willingly at any given time, fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves as he nods along to your words. Of course he tries to plays this off, being all smug about certain topics if he’s well off in them, but the two students could see his inner turmoil, his reluctance to get closer.

Valentine’s Day was right around the corner, so this is the perfect time for Samuel and Finn to put their plan into action. They knew that you, too, also had the hots for Azul (Info heard from Grim who complained loudly after finding out). Sure he tried to rob you of your home, but that was in the past. He mentions you at least once everyday around the dorm, it’s different, especially with how he acts! They’ll use this to their advantage, after all, they did learn from the best.

Now, time to initiate mission: “Kiss the Prefect!” Well, try to, anyways.

Finn sits in Sameuls dorm room on his bed, watching as he writes down key points and factors on a whiteboard, the marker squeaking with each stroke. Samuel pauses and takes a step back, reading over the board before he shakes his head and erases his thoughts away once again

”Give me an idea…something not too cheesy, also something we can trick Azul into.” He sighs as he taps his foot.

Finn scoffs and he lays back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. “Yea…tricking him? He can see right through anything…also, I don’t know about this plan anymore.” He sits up and he leans back on his hands.

“What if it turns around on us and bites us in the ass like a piranha?” He sighs.

Samuel quirks an eyebrow and he sets his marker down and crosses his arms. “Look, this’d be the perfect thing for us to do. Don’t doubt it. It’s for Azul’s own good, more so ours, but that’s besides the point.”

“You know he’ll go against it if he finds out—“

“He won’t! Finn, we’ll make this plan impossible for him to decipher…the motto of our dorm is to help those who seem in distress…or something like that, whatever— we just need to think a little longer about it is all.” Samuel grabs his marker again and puts down a bullet point. “Give me a few ideas here…”

Finn purses his lips and he looks around the room as he takes the whole thing into consideration. “Ok…how about a boat ride? We tell Azul about the freshman marine biology course Crewel has us going through currently, and that if he helped out the Prefect it’d be a good way to get them indebted to him…is what I would say if Azul would actually consider the idea. There’s no way to get him to get close to the prefect on his own—”

“Ok, no…no, no, no, hold that thought! Finn you are something else…” Samuel hums as he hurriedly writes it down.

“Oh…that’s not— I wasn’t being serious about that.” He gets up from the bed and he walks over, watching the words flow down onto the board.

“No, serious or not, this idea will be good. We just have to figure out how to make it play out right, how to get the prefect on board, too. Azul will take more convincing.” Samuel smiles as he connects lines to other points, drawing arrows.

“Exactly. Getting him to go with the Prefect on his own. That won’t happen, you see how he acts around them, he’s so helpless!” Finn shakes his head, rolling his eyes at the mere thought.

“We’ll make our ‘cause’ sound convincing. And, the Prefect would be more open up to the idea if we told them. ‘Excuse me prefect, Azul offered to take you on a boat ride for the marine biology unit, without having to pay!’ Right? Sounds good? I think so…a little white lie doesn’t hurt.” Samuel draws a boat on the whiteboard.

“The Prefect isn’t stupid, Samuel…”

“Well we can try at least. Cmonnnn, think of some things!” Samuel pouts as his marker stops.

“Slow down…we still have time. A whole week, so…we’ll have plenty of time to get the finer details…just remember we have to avoid the twins…”

Samuel stops writing and he tense up, he sighs and he caps the marker. “We…we can worry about them later. They barley recognize us as apart of the dorm, so I bet they won’t even find out, I guarantee it.”

“They’re creepy…and they find out a lot of things, don’t even try me…” Finn shakes his head.

“Don’t be so scared.” Samuel nudges Finns shoulder with his own and smiles again. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“We die.”

“Ooook, chill out, that won’t happen.” Samuel sighs, his shoulders slumping as he looks at the other boy in front of him.

“You don’t know that!” Finn huffs.

“Ok…well, time and fate will tell. Who do you wanna deal with? The Prefect or Azul?” Samuel quickly changes the topic.

“Prefect.” Finn nods.

“Ok. Good to know. Then we can base our plan off of that. Get to thinking tonight! Remember, if we get them together then technically we have an advantage over Azul. We helped him score a hot date, so he’ll just have to pay us back.” Samuel smiles, chuckles and walks Finn to the door.

Hey, they’re Octavinelle students, after all.

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

Some more planning happened over the last few days and it’s finally time to initiate the ultimate plan, first convincing both sides, second, getting both sides to agree, then third, Samuel and Finn being the best wingmen imaginable and receiving the praise and glory, that’s at least what they’re hoping for.

The lounge is…technically closed at the moment, seats are flipped up on tables and the place has been cleansed to a spotless perfection, but more serious matters needed to be tended to.

“Ok, let’s act the scene out. Pretend I’m the prefect, you convinced me to come join you at the lounge for the project, bring up the topic about the unit, and we have to pray the Prefect will complain about it, but I will for the sake of practice. Your lines, ‘yea, I wish I could help you but I’m really busy the rest of the week so I can’t. Maybe ask someone else?’ Right? You got it?” Samuel sighs as he eyes Finn. Finn nods and he clears his throat.

He goes over to the table in the “empty” lounge, and he pulls out the chair for Samuel, then Finn sits down himself.

“Scribble scribble, sounds of fake studying, blah blah blah. And go!” Samuel hums.

“Man, Prefect, this new marine biology unit must be hard for you, huh?”

“Oh myyyy, yes! Totally! Maybe you could help me with it considering your from the coral sea?”

“Unfortunately I can’t. I’m super busy, you know? Over the weekend I have to go back home for a little so I can hang out with my totally real girlfriend, yes.” Finn nods, pursing his lips. “Maybe ask someone else? The twins maybe?”

“Bro, don’t even mention the twins that’ll scare the prefect, oh my seven.” Samuel sighs as he breaks character.

“Ok, sorry, I was just saying random things for the skit…” Finn’s shoulders slump.

Sounds of heels clicking against the ground cause the two to straighten up. They scramble to their feet but it’s already too late for them.

“Hmmmm? Little guppies are in the lounge, heh!” Floyd smirks as he sees the two, his teeth glinting in the dim lights.

“Uhhhh…”

“My, my, Floyd, what do we have here?” Jade chuckles lightly.

“Why are these fuckers up, ahhhhh…” Finn whispers as he inches slowly behind Samuel, which in turn causes him to stumble and glare at Finn as he tries to use him as a shield.

“Have you two failed to read the ‘closed’ sign? I don’t think Azul will fair well with finding out his own dorm members were sneaking in here at such late hours…” Jade sighs, shaking his head as if he is truly disappointed.

“There’s no way to lie our way out of this, huh…” Samuel’s voice is higher pitched and just a small murmur at this point.

“Precisely. Floyd, would you escort them—“

“WE KNOW THE WAY OUT THANK YOU!!!” Finn yelps as he books it to the door, Samuel in sync and a step behind him.

Floyd sighs and he leans back against the wall.

“Did ya hear what they were doing? Either they got some weird fetishes or they’re planning something…” Floyd hums.

“Indeed.” Jade nods.

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

You sit in class listening to Crewel’s usual small lecture before he sends everyone off to do their own thing. You go with your partner, Finn, and you start to go over the prospective material.

He awkwardly clears his throat, putting a fist to his mouth and looking at you. “So…you, uh, do you wanna come by the lounge later to study just a little more before the exam next Monday? I won’t be here for the rest of the weekend so…if you’d wanna.”

You weigh the option in your mind before you respond with a small nod. “Sure, I think I’m free. I don’t think Crowley has me doing much today, on Fridays he usually has me clean up most the gardens around the school.” You smile.

“I uh…I don’t think that’s something to be normal about— anyways, yea, ok, good.” He gives you a small nod. “Meet me after classes are over, we can walk to Octavinelle. Oh, and make sure you drop Grim off with your friends.”

“Uh, ok, that’s a little odd but sure.” You shrug.

"Uh, Azul implemented a new rule, no pets allowed..."

"Grim isn't a pet, though?"

"Oh, uh...better safe than sorry, oh, look at that, bell rang, see ya later, Prefect!" He hums as the bell rings and he picks up his books before leaving you alone. Grim floats over and puts his hands on his hip, already complaining about trivial topics of the day…

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

The lounge’s music is akin to a medley of upbeat Jazz and pop as you sit at a booth with Finn, sadly oblivious to the cards Finn and Samuel were playing to pull the strings so you and Azul would end up together.

Sully, a second year Savanaclaw student, was working in the lounge along with Samuel, having been told about this plan and he insisted on helping because he knew exactly what to do, being well versed in the topic of love, so he says.

“How are you gonna get Azul outa his office, gonna be a bit hard…” the tray in Sully’s hand wobbles as he walks along with Samuel.

“Just wait, will you?” Samuel shakes his head.

“So…Prefect. The marine biology unit…must be hard, huh? You know, since you’re not like from this world or anything and you’re not a mer.” Finn smiles awkwardly.

“It’s not…so bad.” You shrug. “It’s definitely hard but it’s not the end of the world, I’ve been drawn the short stick plenty of times so I’ll make do, though a little help wouldn’t hurt…” you nod thoughtfully. Close enough to what they were hoping you’d say.

“Ah, that’s too bad. I’d offer to help you more after today but I’m gonna be busy, I actually have to go back home…I’m sure someone else here could help. Oh, and Sam’d be busy, too. You have another option as well…but he’s a lil more iffy…” Finn drawls on. He looks back to Azul’s office to see Sully and Samuel acting out a scene, progressing closer to you two.

“Let me guess, Azul? As much as I think we’re on good terms, I don’t know if I should bother him for something like that…it’d be nice, though. And I also don’t exactly have enough credit built up from ordering to have a consultation with him.” You smile as you stir your drink.

Just when the moment goes quiet, the two other members of the team come by, bickering with each other and gaining the interest of the rest of the customers. You glance over at them, and out of the corner of your eye, see Azul standing behind your booth, watching them.

The two stop fighting and they walk away, leaving Azul to linger awkwardly.

“Hey, Azul.” You hum, looking down and hiding your reddened cheeks.

“Hello, Y/N…” he murmurs out

“Hey, Azul! I can’t be here to help tutor them over the weekend so I was thinking maybe you could step in! I’ll work extra hours, I promise, they were telling me how hard the unit was for them—“

“I never said—“

“I was actually gonna take the Prefect out on a boat and show them some of the marine life up close, easier to learn that way!” Finn beams, talking over you.

Azul tenses and he pushes his glasses up, looking at Finn incredulously. “I…I’m busy, I wouldn’t have time.”

“Azul, I think it would be quite beneficial, no? The Prefect would get to learn and you could boast your exponential knowledge of your home.” Jade smiles as he shuffles over silently.

“Yea! Cmon, I bet Shrimpy would love it…” Floyd chimes in.

You sit staring at all of them, and you can’t help but notice a questioning gaze to Finn’s eyes.

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

It was the weekend, and the only time you and Azul had free was towards the evening, so, here you are, sat uncomfortably on a small rowboat with Azul. He uses his magic to turn the oars and you pass under trees, the fireflies dancing around on the land in a hypnotizing pattern.

It’s quiet. Too quiet. The tension in the air thick and sickening.

“Ahem…this, this here is a sea turtle…”

“I can tell.” You sigh. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand, gazing at Azul who seems to be out of his comfort zone. It’s weird in a way. He shifts awkwardly and you see him gaze at the crystal blue water with a sense of reluctance.

Both of you blissfully unaware of anything else in the moment, Finn and Samuel are in their merforms, hiding along in the manatee and turtle grass, moving behind the cattails to listen in. This wasn’t going great, they knew they needed to do a little more to set the mood.

“Go time?” Finn asks.

“Go time. Now or never.” Samuel smirks and gives a thumbs up. He whips out his magic pen and he makes flowers nearby bloom, sparkling lights fill the surrounding air, and small, delicate splashes of water pop for an added sound effect.

The boat rocks slightly and with another boost of magic, the vessel is propelled forwards towards some wisteria trees along the edges of the lagoon, the purple strands of flowers reaching down and caressing the water.

Pelicans swoop by and create an opening by moving some of the long strands out of the way and allowing the boat to go on by. Samuel smiles and he slips his magic pen away, going down and grabbing some kelp to use as a baton.

“Finish the rest, Finn. Gotta make sure the wildlife around here can add in some natural music for us.”

Finn swims off with a nod and he swims around the boat, causing various rippled patterns to form on the surface.

“Does marine life usually do this?” You sigh out due out of disbelief, hunching over and looking over the edge. “It’s…oddly sweet in a way, no?” You glance back at him, leaning forwards and scooting to the edge of your seat to be closer.

“This isn’t right.” He crosses his arms, looking around with distaste.

“Oh…Never mind that, then.” You lean back. Great, now the mood was soiled again. Again, Finn just has to give a helpful push, right?

Finn sighs and he gently nudges the boat, rocking it and causing both of you to move closer, your faces merely inches apart. His glasses slip down and he looks surprised to now be so close.

You both blush and Azul quickly straightens up, coughing into his fist and gripping the edge of the boat. “Must’ve been a shark…”

“Maybe…” you murmur, nodding along to his words.

You look back at each other and you can’t help but smile at how stupid he looks. Usually he was a well put together business man, but now? He looks so out of it, stupid with his tinted pink cheeks. You scoot closer again and you fix his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear.

He turns as still as a statue and looks at you with widened eyes. “Ah…”

“Thanks for this whole thing, I guess. I bet it’s not something you really wanted to do, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” You retract your hand. “I’ve learned a good bit, and plus, I get to see this weirdly unnatural but beautiful sight with you.”

No! So close, sooooo close! Finn rolls his eyes and he decides to let the moment play out on its own for now until intervention is needed again.

He nods and he fixes up his uniform tie, looking away. “I agree…afterwards for payment, I’d suggest just working a shift or two at the lounge. Is that acceptable for your schedule?”

“Really?” Finn shakes his head yet again.

“I guess so…thanks, again.”

“It’s nothing, really. This was simply a trifle, don’t worry.” He sighs.

You both lock eyes again and a lightbulb seems to go off. You reach your hands over to his, holding them palm up and offering them to him. He responds and tentatively places his hands in yours.

“Hey…can I maybe tell you something? I just…don’t want to ruin our friendship with what I’m about to say, well, I mean if you even consider us friends, you know?” You sigh, your cheeks bright red at this point as you look down to see fish swimming by.

“Why wouldn’t I consider you that? You’re a great asset to me— I mean…more than that I suppose…” the last part of his sentence is a quiet mutter, his hands tightening around yours.

“Azul, I like you, as crazy as it is to say. I can’t really hide it anymore. I don’t know what it is about you…”

His hands tremble and he purses his lips, looking like he’d literally blow up any second now out of embarrassment, happiness, longing, yearning, relief, who knows…You wait for a response, yet a verbal one never leaves, instead he leans forwards and he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Are we sealing the deal then? I dunno, sounded like something you’d say.” You smile, which in turn causes him to as well.

You both lean in, your lips centimeters apart and your eyes closed, the sweet ocean breeze and the mix of his cologne filling your senses in the best way imaginable. The moment felt surreal.

Finn giggles quietly and smiles, completely giddy as he watches the romance finally bloom and take off. He gets ready to cheer, but the cute moment is short lived as he watches two long shadows swim by in the water beneath the boat. The boat rocks then tips over, sending you and Azul both into the water.

You pop back up above the water, using your arms and legs to keep you afloat as you take a few gasps of air.

“Azul?” You huff as you look around, swimming over to the more shallow edge of the lagoon.

Azul slowly peeks his head up out of the water, his skin turned to his purple-grey hue which was common in his merform. Your eyes meet his and you relax, moving over to him.

“You ok?”

“Seems so…”

You look at him and you can’t help the bubbles of laughter that escape your mouth from the absurdity of the situation. He ducks down below.

“Hey, ‘zul, I wasn’t laughing at you…”

You take a breath and you move your head below, opening your eyes and looking at him as he sulks. You put a hand on his shoulder and he looks over at your smiling face.

“This was ruined…” the water muffles his voice and you gently tug him up, bobbing back up to the surface with your hand grabbing his arm.

“Say that again?”

“The moment. It was ruined, I wasn’t watching my magic while turning the oars…”

“No. It’s fine! I wasn’t laughing at you, just at us falling in. Geez. Come here.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and you press a kiss to his lips, a small squeak emanating from his throat as his eyes widen then relax, eventually fluttering closed. He wraps his arms back around you and you can feel his tentacles grip your legs, a subconscious action of his. You both pull away after a moment, stupid fulfilled smiles on your faces.

“Do I still have to work shifts at the lounge for this?”

“I don’t suppose so…consider the kiss to be payment…”

“I’m lucky I didn’t have to sign a contract to kiss you. You’ve come a long way.” You pat his back.

“Really? I didn’t think you’d think of me to stoop that low.” He looks at you with an unamused expression.

Splashing of water can be heard from behind you and you see Jade and Floyd’s heads pop up. Floyd comes up behind you and pries you off of Azul, giving you a big squeeze.

“Awwwwww! Looky! You and Azul are so cute, but me and Jade got bored, took too long.” He giggles.

“And we thought it’d be nice of us to give you a gentle push in the right direction is all.” Jade nods along with his pointer finger and thumb gently grasping his chin.

“Thanks?” You sigh.

“Of course, Shrimpy! Heh!” He holds you tighter and does a small spin in the water. “Don’t get jealous, Azul.” He winks at him.

“You two are insufferable.” He face palms and shakes his head.

“Quite the contrary.” Jade smirks widely.

Finn and Samuel stay off in the distance, heads hung in despair. “How’d they find out?”

“I don’t know. Now they’re taking credit for our idea!”

“It was probably Sully, that loud mouth.” Samuel sighs. “Shouldn’t have let him in on the plan.

“Exactly. Your fault.”

“Mine? Don’t start with me Finn—“

(Finn and Samuel never got the recognition they hoped for…in fact Jade and Floyd got it all. How did they even hear of the plan? After catching them in the lounge the one night they did their own little investigation and discovered their plan…Sully is still blamed by Samuel…justice for Sully, y’all)

AHHHHH! I’m done! I fear I may have lost track like halfway through, but it’s ok…I like how it ended at least. Also you could tell I was getting restless while writing this cause my sentences kept getting shorter…Thanks for reading, my lovelies!

Requests are open if yall have any Valentine’s Day Ideas!

Master List

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures/GIF belongs to Disney but is edited by me :)

Bonus photo that I edited:

[pampushky]

they hang on every breath

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader - chapter 5 - 4k words

First of all:

GO BIRDS WE FUCKING DID IT AGAIN! SURPRISE! IM AN EAGLES FAN! anyway enjoy <3

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October, 2005. FIA Headquarters, Paris

When they’d first founded the pack, Niki was the original Prime Alpha. James Hunt had been the Prime Beta. At the time, there had yet to be any omega to work in any formula series, let alone drive or work on the car. So Marlene had been the Prime Omega then, completing all the proper paperwork for the pack to be recognized by the FISA, FIA, and any other group that tried to argue against the rights of the drivers. 

Then James had died in 1993 before being able to step down, leading Aryton to take over as the Prime Beta the next week, only to follow after James in 1994. The pack had almost crumbled, and Niki had never quite gotten over either of them, just silently watching as a nervous Mika took over as the Prime at the next race. 

Micheal had been his paddock pup, with Mika beside him, the two rather rambunctious and energetic about everything. Shiny-eyed and seeing the good in everything where Niki had been dulled by the deaths he’d witnessed, and the severance of his mating bond. 

Marlene, luckily, cared about the pack just as fiercely as her former mate, staying in the Prime Omega position well after Niki had stepped down and let Micheal take the reigns. 

And by then, there were omegas allowed to drive. It had been the 90s— it was finally seen as barbaric to prevent someone from driving based on their designation— and now it was nearly a decade into the 21st century! Yet it wouldn’t be until 2001 that a suitable candidate for Prime Omega really emerged. 

Which was what was causing such a headache now. 

Niki was in no mood to be here right now. But the FIA had insisted that this was the only time the pack situation could be amended and that Fernando could finally be appointed as the Prime Omega, with Marlene there to witness and step down to let him take over. 

Two hours, just to change all that. Even with Niki, Mika, Micheal, and Marlene there to speed things up and get everything done. Two hours with a squirming four-year-old who did not like being stuck in a stuffy hallway in a brand-new city, who seemed very content to make it everyone’s problem. 

You had been squealing and chirping angrily for the past hour, with no sign of stopping.

 Apparently, having two Prime Betas not being present (regardless of the fact that both were very publicly not alive anymore) complicated things. At least the official had the decency to look ashamed when he asked Mika where Ayrton and James were, to give their consent on this change. Or perhaps it was the death stare that Niki was giving him, with you looking equally as confused from where you’d been standing behind his legs. Those same, piercing eyes looking at the official, who finally stuttered out the approval and finally let everything move forward. 

It’s not as if Niki wanted to drag you along to all of this. You’d been perfectly content to stay curled up in the nest in Höf. However, Mathias had business to attend to, and Lukas was at the factory testing, some favor that had been called in by a friend when their driver hadn’t been able to. Marlene had to be in Paris for the meeting. 

A true stroke of bad luck, but looking at his own burn scars and the tiny compression gloves that were made to fit you, Niki reasoned it could always be worse. Your eyes meet his, as though he’s looking in a mirror, before you whine to Marlene again, high-pitched and more frustrated than anxious.

You wanted to explore the new city! That’s what your Sisi had said you could do when all of this was over. He’d take you to get crepes and help you make the coziest nest possible in Micheal’s Paris apartment to watch Lilo & Stitch for the thousandth time with Marlene and himself.

It was a waiting game now. 

Marlene was gently bouncing you in her arms, whispering to you to keep you entertained, and failing. Your little face was scrunched up in annoyance and you were puffing up your cheeks. Looking at your adoptive grand-dam with the biggest puppy-dog eyes, and failing to get what you wanted. Marlene was well-versed in your attempted bribery and ensured you weren’t too spoiled by Niki. 

 Your hair was growing back, now about three inches long from your scalp, and a shocking white color that rivaled even the oldest members of the grid. 

“Likely from all the stress,” the doctor whispered, after telling Niki the news, one sunny April day after you’d been given a full body exam, to check the progress of your healing, and to examine the full extent of the damage to your scalp. “It’s not thinning, and seems healthy otherwise. It’s actually quite thick, so it’ll require constant grooming and maintenance when the pup is able to access her canine form. The scalp has been, by some miracle, untouched, so, thank God above for that,” 

The doctor looked over her shoulder to you, where you were sitting on the bed, examining the scented rabbit that bore your dam’s scent. Watching as Lukas and Mathias made it dance and play with you on the bed. You reach for the rabbit, with little hands, wearing a compression glove and sleeve. It would be a week until you were discharged. And you were starting to adjust nicely to the new routine of your life. 

And now your hair was being gently smoothed down to your head by Alonso, talking to you in Spanish while you looked up at him with wide, examining eyes, before wordlessly opening your arms for the Spanish omega to hold you with a little chirp. Making a little huffing noise from your nose as that was familiar to anyone who had been around pups. 

You felt safe there. Even while Micheal, Mika, and now Fernando discussed the pack, with Marlene coaching the omega who would finally take over for her. You were curled against Fernando, eyes closed in content, purring. A little barret with blue and yellow in your hair to hold it out of your face that Nando seemed to have pulled from nowhere. Micheal scowls at the Renault merchandise. Likely already planning on dressing you in a head-to-toe outfit of Rosso Corsa the next time he’s visiting.

“She’s a Ferrari fan.”

“She’s a baby,” Nando sticks his tongue out, still every bit as immature as he was when he was first promoted to F1, but now seen as an equal to Micheal. “And she’s got im–im–im— oh, merde, what’s the English word?

“Impeccable,” Mika provides helpfully, the Finn simply happy to be there. Riding on the high of now officially having a new Prime Omega. “Being in accordance with the highest standards of propriety.” 

“Thank you. She has impeccable fashion taste. It’s not my fault the color scheme is so much better.” Nando coos, and you make another little huffing noise. 

The three current primes of the pack all freeze, before trying to play off how excited they are about your quiet happy noises. Especially Micheal, who has already lost control over some parts of his canine form, as though he’s a teenager again. His tail thumps against the wall, as Mika makes a happy crooning noise from the back of his throat. And Fernando preens, cooing to you. His instincts winning over. He’s beyond proud to be holding you, the youngest member of the pack, the sweet little pup that has been secretly snuck into so many different races, all to protect your identity.

Marlene turns back to Niki, silently mouthing ‘Are you seeing this?’ just as you make another happy huffing noise into Nando’s shoulder. Cue the mental happy dance that Niki knows he and Marlene both doing right now because you had only let your immediate pack and Micheal hold you. And you were now actively cuddling into Fernando’s shoulder— huffing! Like a pup! 

When Max Mosley himself came to hand over the documents, even he cooed over how you’re now asleep against Fernando. Drooling on his shoulder with the mottled side of your jaw and cheek pressed into his formal wear. You’re an adorable little thing, snuggled into the Prime Omega’s embrace. You wake up the moment they leave the building, blinking slowly at the sun. 

Marlene takes you then, laughing at the sleepy chirrups and whines you make at her, slurring between German and English as your Sisi rubs the sleep lines on your cheek. You squirm at their touch and clearly want to be let down. Your steps are wobbly, but you’re determined, taking several which steps away, as fast as you can on your warped leg. It drags slightly as you step, making it so you’re not as fast as you think. 

“Oh, the littlest member of our pack,” Micheal coos, lifting you easily to sit on his shoulders, laughing at the angry squeal you make after being caught. You grip onto his more wolfish ears that have revealed themselves, as though you’re going to steer him into the direction you want him to go. 

“Mick? Mick and Gina?” You lean over, to look at him, eyes wide and hopeful.  “Here?”

“Auf Deutsch fragen, Mausi.” Micheal looks at you, grinning. Mika seems to scowl a bit, letting out a stream of Finnish that the German just pokes his tongue out at him, like a child. Fernando just laughs, snickering into his hand before you turn your eyes onto him again, making grabby hands for him.

And who is he to say no to you? Not when you look so sweet, with the little prescription sunglasses to protect your eyes on, and a sun hat tied under your chin. Both had been swiftly added to your wardrobe the moment everyone had left the building, pulled from Marlene’s purse while you squirmed. “Oh, bebeita, so precious, I will get you whatever you want,” Fernando coos, letting you down, but holding you by your hand so you can’t run off. Walking slowly beside you as you look around, eyes wide and amazed by the new city.

Final Day of Spring Testing, 2024. Sakhir, Bahrain

You’re leaning against the pit wall. Watching as all the final promotional pictures are taken of the drivers. All of them, standing in front of the cars, wearing serious expressions as they look into the cameras. 

Testing had finished an hour ago. You were required to be there for a few promotional pictures, and an article that the New York Times wanted to publish about you— the first woman to become a race engineer, and now to move up to a high-tier team like McLaren. You found that a bit insulting to Williams, that no one had really looked into it when you’d first been promoted, but after everything that had happened there, you were a bit disgusted by the team. 

Logan seems to shrink under the gaze of his team principal. You prickle, a protective instinct pushing into the back of your mind as you sink a bit lower. Oscar will handle it. That’s his courting partner after all, if anyone would fight to defend Logan, it would be Oscar. He’d raced against him since childhood. James turns, just enough to catch your gaze from where you’re leaning. He freezes, as if seeing some phantom, before turning on his heel and stalking into the Williams garage with an utterly furious look on his face.

Quietly, you head back into the garage. Your cheek twitches, aching. It almost seems like your skin, especially your scars, was prickling with all the tension in the air. Will had been quietly dismissed after handing in a written apology that was passed onto you by Andrea. 

Before you do anything else, you breathe in. Letting yourself smell the air around you. Burnt rubber and fuel. There’s clanking around you as mechanics work on a few separate parts. There’s the sound of typing as you sit, going over data on the monitors. Flipping through a notebook and scrawling down a few, final notes. 

Eggroll sits loyally at your feet, with her back to you, watching every single person who approaches. She’d been trained to react to his scent. To bay loudly and bark and to create such a racket that it would draw everyone’s attention to her and to see what was causing it. 

But for now, she’s silent. Letting you work. Eyes trained on the track. 

Chills run up the back of Lando’s neck and he shivers. He looks over to the pit wall, where you had previously been leaning and watching him, expecting to see you still there. He’s not quite sure why he feels disappointed that you’re not watching him anymore.

1 Week to 2024 Season Opening. Norris Residence, Monaco.

Lando’s not quite sure what to make of you. You’ve officially been his engineer for a month now. You were… polite enough. Maybe a bit cold. But polite enough. No-nonsense, and clearly, it was helping him, as much as he hated to admit it. 

He says as much to Max, who cackles on the other side of the call. He can’t stop laughing, enough that he can almost imagine he’s still living in England, and they’re karting again. Having a sleepover, still pups, and arguing over FIFA matches. 

“Piss off, man,” Lando sinks lower into his chair, arms folded over his chest. They’re just waiting for the lobby to fill so they can start another round. “You’re acting like she’s some miracle.”

“Mate, because she is,” Max says. Lando can hear the aggressive typing on his side. “Here, let me stream this quick, get out of the game. We can play more later.”

Max googled your name as Lando slumped into his chair. Recent articles all pop up, including the one you’d been getting photographed for on the last day of testing. Part of Lando also wants to google what exactly your relationship with Oscar was, but when he does, he only gets a picture of you walking beside Logan from last season, with Oscar trailing behind, not even fully in focus in the background. 

A Wiki link gets dropped in their personal chat. And then a large PDF file a few seconds later.

“She has her own wiki page!”

“That’s not that cool,” Lando sulks, but he clicks on the link regardless. The current image of you is one taken from the press briefing when you’d first been introduced, with your braided hair and black turtleneck. You’re making a little scowl, and looking slightly to the side, as though you’re annoyed at something. Lando feels a bit smug when he sees his name linked under Driver’s Worked With. “I have a wiki page. I’m probably mentioned, like, a dozen times in hers!.”

“Yeah, but, you’re famous. You’re a driver, and a damn popular one at that. Race engineers don’t normally get that much attention.” Max chides. 

That’s… a good point. Your page is… shockingly long, for someone a year younger than him. A quick scroll through makes Lando realize that there is still quite a bit he has yet to figure out about you. 

“Why the fuck is it so long?” Lando mutters as he scrolls through the Early Life section, which inadvertently jump-scares him with a picture of toddler you, covered in shiny, pink burn scars and staring at the camera with wide, confused eyes. You’re in a little sun hat, and you’re holding onto Niki’s hand, while walking in the street. Your sire is glaring at the camera. A few other F1 drivers arc around you, notably, with Micheal Schumacher almost in front of you, as if to prevent you from being seen. 

Stupidly, he briefly thinks about how weird genetics were to pass down Niki’s scars to you, before he smacks his forehead and realizes how impossible it is to inherit burn scars from your sire. 

Oscar had mentioned you’d survived a house fire. But based on how you looked now…. Lando’d just assumed that you’d gotten lucky and not gotten badly burned. He’s more confused by the whole situation now and actually starts to read the article. 

Lauda was born in North Carolina, to her mother, Magnolia Davis. Though Niki Lauda has refused to comment on any questions to how she was conceived or when, it is suspected that the former champion had a short-term affair in early 2001, based on her October birthday. 

Not much is known about the first four years of her life, other than the fact that Davis had primary custody, and the two lived in Banner Elk until her Dam’s passing in March of 2005, due to a housefire that also left Lauda with chronic medical conditions. Official reports on the fire have blamed outdated electrical work for causing the fire, due to the age of the cabin that the two lived in. Niki Lauda took custody soon after, relocating the four-year-old Lauda to Austria. 

That was surprising. 

“She’s got medical conditions?” Lando tilts his head. Looking back at the picture of a toddler you. The wide, confused eyes, and the way the skin along the right side of your jaw seems… sticky, with an odd shine to it. 

“You’re joking,” Max deadpans. 

“No— she—” Lando stutters, oddly defensive. You’d never seemed to have issues, you looked, and acted (for the most part) normally! “—She never mentioned any!”

“Mate.” Max sounds almost disappointed. “She’s deaf in one ear. Legally blind, too, I’m pretty sure. 

“Don’t give me the mom tone! And again, she didn’t mention any!”

“You do know she’s like,” Max pauses, and Lando just knows he’s scrolling through your wiki page even more, trying to find other things to hold over his head. “... a prominent disability rights advocate, right? Another medical condition, that bum leg of hers—”

“You didn’t know that before reading this.”

“I did not,” Max concedes, failing miserably at hiding his smug snickering. “But you should have!”

“Fuck off, I went on a phone cleanse for a month before coming back to work,” Lando mutters, sinking further into his chair, sulking like a child, and scrolling down further. Section titles like Education & Research, Disability Rights Work, and Personal Life all beckoned to him to read more. 

“So…”  Max trails off. “Wanna be nosy together?”

“Oh, absolutely.” 

Lando spends the next three hours with Max, stalking all your social media posts, your admittedly impressive library of published articles of your research on how the aerodynamics and design of F1 cars could be used to create more fuel-efficient everyday cars, trains, and boats that could eventually help phase out the usage of fossil-fuels in cars altogether.

Your early life section is still bleak even after the two initial paragraphs. 

It is unknown why the Davis pack did not take custody of Lauda after her Dam’s untimely passing. Leaked documents from the now-defunct Banner Elk hospital have revealed that the pack signed away their next-of-kin and pack rights, along with requesting a no-contact order to be upheld until Lauda reached legal age, or in the case that the then-pup died due to her injuries. 

According to reports that were granted by a FOIA request, investigators at the scene of the fire were there to retrieve the bodies of Lauda and her Dam, when she was discovered under a metal bedframe near the remains of Davis a few feet away. Davis was buried in her pack’s grave plot in the Old Elk Valley Baptist Church Cemetery. It is unknown if Lauda has attempted contact with her Dam’s pack.

The public became aware of her existence when tabloids were given access to photos of Lauda spending time with her Sire’s pack during her stay in the hospital. The article published was titled “Die Ratte und das Mäuschen!” which resulted in her gaining the nickname “Das Maus” which has stuck with her since. 

By all accounts, Lauda claims to have had an otherwise normal and happy childhood with her sire’s pack, and made her first official public appearance in August 2005, leaving the FIA Headquarters in Paris, with her Sire, Niki Lauda, and other members of the Formula 1 Pack after Fernando Alonso was appointed Prime Omega. She has said she was close with 7-time World Champion, Micheal Schumacher and was regularly seen spending time with his pups when in the paddock to accompany her Sire. 

Not much else is known about Lauda’s early life, with the pack being very private. 

Well, shit. No wonder you were a bit cold. You probably barely remembered your Dam, even without considering the traumatizing end she’d met. There aren’t any pictures provided of your Dam— Magnolia— and only a handful of pictures of you as a pup. None before the fire. He tries to imagine it. There’s only one of you with your little ears and tail out— one of your eas is more of a little patch of fur. You’re grinning up at a much younger Nico Rosberg, who has you tucked under his arm like some ball. There’s a blur where your tail would be, peeking out behind you, showing that you must have been overjoyed to be there with the German. Your grin is infectious as you look up at him. Little fangs jutting out over your bottom lip. 

It’s actually quite adorable. With how fluffy your hair is and the little snaggle tooth hanging on your lower lip. He can almost hear the happy squealing noises from the picture. 

Did you make those noises when you were with your Dam? Or were they reserved for when you lived in Austria, joining him at every possible race, bounding behind in your canine form, as a tiny puppy? Yapping and screeching behind him, while probably being followed by various Formula 1 legends intending to keep you behaving. 

Which was. An amusing idea, to say the least. Picturing a younger Fernando Alonso, or Alain Prost running after you. Perhaps even a rookie Lewis, holding you by the scruff and padding towards the Ferrari garage in his canine form. The massive black wolf holding a tiny puppy. 

You had been affiliated with Mercedes for while— that’s where you’d gained the majority of your experience— serving as a race engineer to the lower divisions. Also giving some of the most out-of-pocket comments to the younger drivers to encourage them forwards out of spite. 

He’s so busy working on learning more about you— apparently, your favorite color is red, you’ve had three service dogs before Eggroll, and you have an irresistible love of mochi— that he doesn’t notice two different things he’s done. 

One. Nowhere in the article does it mention your designation, which was still a very big mystery to him. Maybe his instincts had started to really calm down now, but Lando’s pretty sure you’re an Alpha. Maybe it’s projection. Maybe’s it the basics of genetics he remembers from his middle-school biology classes he took online. If your mother was a beta, there was a large chance you could be an Alpha. The chances for you being a beta were low, a 25% chance. He didn’t know all of the exact science behind it, but he knew it wasn’t looking good. 

And two. 

Lando and Max had, in their online stalking frenzy, found your various social media pages. And more importantly, Lando had stumbled across your LinkedIn page. While many didn’t know he had a LinkedIn, he did. It was a more private one, one his Sire encouraged him to make. But he still had one regardless and he occasionally would recall he had it and would update it, as he actually had just a few days ago, when his brother had been teasing him about it. He vaguely knew that people could see when he was on their page, but he didn’t really know much else. 

He also didn’t know that he was still logged in. 

At 12:27am, an hour behind Monaco, you get a notification on your phone while Oscar and Logan bicker about what late-night food is best to order at the moment.

Lando Norris and others have recently viewed your profile. 

tags: @charlesgirl16@boo8008@the-holy-trinity-l@laura-naruto-fan1998@amalialeclerc@vellicora@st0rmzi3@poppyflower-22@hiireadstuff@seonghwaexile@mrsmelinda@actuallyazriel@noam-rosier-icr

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy III

an art professor Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU...

III.

-You like the atmosphere in the classroom. It's a good group of students. They like their teacher, they like you. Everyone is very chill about the human body for what it is, and no one makes you feel uncomfortable. There is one student who maybe likes you for more than just shapes on the page, though. 

You gently rebuff Matt’s attempts to flirt in the classroom. You're a little older than most of the students, though you are still far from what you consider an actual adult. You're more staff than faculty, but it still feels like forbidden territory. 

When lunch time comes and you are sitting at the picnic table under an old maple tree, soaking up the last warmth of autumn, Matt takes the liberty of sitting with you. He is cute, and soft spoken, and he has sad brown eyes that feel safe to fall into. You like his leather jacket, and his long legs, and his sideways smile. When he invites you to see his band play that weekend you offer a noncommittal maybe. Are you allowed to mingle socially with the students? When he looks through his long hair at you with those puppy dog eyes, you are sorely tempted. 

Little do you know a certain professor watches from the window of his office with narrowed dark eyes, and stews. 

When critique time comes next class it seems like he is extra hard on the young man, nitpicking to the extreme, and it carries a definite weight coming from the forbidding figure that is Professor Wick, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his blackhole gaze fixed mercilessly upon the art, and then the artist. Wick finishes with the recommendation that Matt would do well to focus more on his art and less on other distractions. 

The young man does not try to flirt with you again in class. In fact, he won’t even meet your eyes, and you can tell he’s crushed. 

Though he sits impassively at his desk in the corner, Professor Wick enjoys a bone-deep satisfaction over this small victory. 

He can’t stop himself, from thinking of you as his. 

-Maybe because you feel a little sorry for Matt, you go to his show at a dive bar not far from your apartment. He plays the bass, not badly, and you'd be a liar if you claimed watching his unfairly sized hands skillfully moving across the fretboard didn't do something to you. You sit at the bar with a gin and tonic, telling yourself you’re there to watch but not with him. What could be wrong with that? Even still, when he picks you out in the crowd he shoots you a shy smile that pulls at your heartstrings. 

The bar is packed, a mix of people from all walks of life. The lights are low, visibility in the glow of neon lights paltry at best. Just for a moment, you swear you see a familiar tall dark form in the crowd at the other end of the bar. 

This does not seem like Professor Wick’s scene…but stranger things have happened? 

You find yourself sitting up straighter, for some reason your heart racing double-time. You search the shadows of the close-pressed crowd, but you do not see him again, and you chide yourself that you were mistaken. 

You shouldn’t be as disappointed as you are, but you cannot shake the feeling that weighs upon your skin. Clearly you are seeing things, but…you wish it had been him, and suddenly all you want is to go home. 

You stick it out to the intermission, when Matt wades through the crowd to get to you across the bar. It takes him a while–you are not the only girl in the audience who has come to see him, and you are heartened that he won’t be alone if he doesn’t want to be. “Hey,” he says with a shy smile when he finally makes it to your side. 

“Hey. You guys are great.”

“Thanks. Want to step outside with me?” 

The two of you lean on the brick wall in the alley while he partakes of a smoke. Neither of you have said much. You can’t tell if the silence is awkward, or if he’s like you, and doesn’t mind the quiet. The air is crisp outside; fall has arrived, and you pull your coat closer around you. “Cold?” Matt lifts his arm in invitation, offering you his body heat like you are a baby bird he could tuck under his wing. It’s tempting, but you just can’t shake this weird feeling like you shouldn’t be here. 

“I’m ok.” 

He nods, weighing you with that sad dark gaze, and you wonder for the umpteenth time what’s wrong with you. “Want…to hang out after the show?” 

“I…have to work in the morning.” It’s true. You have to open the bookstore, your steady gig that pays most of your bills, though that doesn’t usually keep you from staying up late. 

“Oh..” He nods, like you’ve answered more than just that question for him, but he’s cool about it in a way that you’re grateful for, even if it breaks your heart for some reason. 

“I guess…I better get back inside.”

“Ok.” 

“See you around?” 

“See you in class.” He makes a pained little sound, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his plush lips. 

You turn to go, ready to walk home, when he calls out to you. 

“Hey. Wait.” 

He closes the distance between you, even daring to tug you a little by the lapel of your coat, and you sense his intention a moment before he executes. You turn your head, kissing him on the cheek instead. He groans with disappointment, but also a self-deprecating huff of laughter that you have to admit is adorable. “Alright. Later, y/n.”      

He disappears through the service door, and you make your way down the broken sidewalk with your hands in your pockets and a dissatisfied static inside that has nothing to do with Matt. 

It won’t be a long walk, though it is cold. You are regretting your decision to wear a skirt, even with tights and cute boots. Maybe you need a longer coat. Maybe you need a few more brain cells, or maybe you could even get a goddamn grip. 

You are halfway home when the purr of a loud engine draws your attention, a moment before a black Porsche pulls up to the curb beside you. 

TBC...

___

masterlist/chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[in1-nutshell]

I still think rally racer liaison driving Swerve in a sticky situation would be cool as hell. Swerve would be tired as shit but Rally giving him a pep/ you did so well talk would be more effective than the usual sort he gets. Perhaps the exercise cyberdopamine hit would perk him up a bit too.. I wonder if it works like tht if someone is commanding the movement of your body 🤔

Rally Buddy is back!

Hope you enjoy!

Buddy the Rally Racer driving Swerve

SFW, Platonic, Human reader

MTMTE

The off world planetary visit was Rodimus’s idea.

He managed to convince Magnus and Megatron that it was good for the crew.

Rally truthfully thought that he was just getting a bit tired of being in the ship for so long.

The nearest planet was a bit hostile to Cybertronians.

Good thing that the bots could simply go into their holoforms from the ship.

The only problem was getting Rally over there with everyone else.

They couldn’t exactly spawn into the area like they could.

Rally: “What if I just drove in someone’s alt mode?” Rodimus: “Hmm, guess that would make sense. Alright then, who—” Rally: “I choose Swerve.” Rodimus: “What?” Magnus: “What?” Megatron: “What?” Whirl: “What?” Several other bots: “What?” Swerve: “HUH!?” Rodimus: “Why him?” Rally: “He has the least flashy alt mode and small enough not to draw attention.” Swerve deflates a bit. Rally: “And I trust Swerve more to drive me there in one piece and with my lunch still in me.” Swerve perks up a bit as Rodimus groans. Rodimus: “That was one time!” Rally: “One time too many Roddy. Swerve lets start heading out.”

For once everything was going right.

Everyone was behaving, even Whirl was a bit tamer than usual.

The drinks were nice, and it was a nice change in scenery.

And the inevitable bar fight wasn’t even their fault!

The small fight between bar patrons got ugly quickly as Rodimus made the call to have everyone get back to the ship.

Most of the bots holoforms ended up vanishing into thin air as soon as they were in the clear.

Swerve made sure to grab Rally’s hand as they navigated the messy bar to his alt mode.

Only one problem…

It seemed that something was wrong with Swerve’s ability to control his engine and overall ability to move by himself.

But all other functions worked manually.

Swerve: “Ah man! This does not look good! Do you think they noticed we left the bar? Wait do you think that they know what a cybertronian alt mode looks like?” Rally: “Swerve? Swerve buddy listen to me.” They pat the seat to get his attention. Rally: “Listen, we’re going to be just fine.” Swerve: “How?! I can’t move and we need to get to the ship—” Rally: “Which is why I’m going to drive!” Swerve: “Wait what?” Rally: “You can’t exactly move, but all other functions work right?” Swerve: “Yeah.” Rally: “I can drive us back to the ship. Its probably going to feel weird and all, but you gotta trust me on this Swerve.” Swerve: “All right Rally…” Rally pats again, much softer this time. Rally: “Hey, we’ll be okay. Your alt mode isn’t a formula one, but its got speed and durability. And those are two things we need right now. We got this Swerve. Now say it, We’re gonna make it!” Swerve: “We’re gonna make it.” Rally: “C’mon! Louder!” Swerve: “We’re gonna make it!” Rally gets into the driver’s seat. Rally: “Just tell the others to get the door open. We are coming in hot!” Swerve: “Yeah! Wait wh—AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!” Rally slams the gas, laughing while Swerve screams a bit.

Now Rally’s reputation of being a former racer isn’t well known on the ship.

It’s more of an obscure fact that gets brought up every blue moon or every other month.

Swerve was one of the first ton the ship to know about Rally’s past.

He has most of their recorded races.

But being the car under Rally’s hands was a completely different experience.

It was exciting and terrifying.

Exciting because Rally was driving and pulling stunts on his alt mode that he would have never thought about doing.

Terrifying because he has to trust the Rally won’t wreck him.

He won’t be able to stop them if something were to happen.

Skids and Chromedome are by the open door. Chromedome: “You think they’re, okay?” Skids: “Have some faith Chromedome. I’m sure they’re fine. See! There’s Swerve right there.” Chromedome: “…Isn’t it a bit weird that he isn’t slowing down?” Skids: “Kind of—GET DOWN!” Both bots duck down as Swerve/Rally used a rock ramp and flew straight into the ship. Swerve/Rally skids a bit before stopping. Skids: “Geez Swerve! A little warning next—” Swerve/Rally suddenly raced down the hall, drifting at the last second at the corner. Skids: “…What was that?” Chromedome: “I don’t think I’ve seen Swerve even drift before.” Meanwhile at the medbay… Swerve: “SLOW DOWN! SLOW DOWN!” Swerve/ Rally drifts straight into the medbay, startling the medics before doing a donut and stopping. Rally: “We did it Swerve! You did amazing!” Swerve was trying to get over the several exciting/ near death experiences. Swerve: “Yay…” Velocity: “Swerve?” Rally opens the door. Rally: “Can someone take a look at Swerve? He can’t move by himself.”

Swerve gets fixed after a couple of minutes.

Rally stayed by his side the entire time.

The minibot going on and on about how exciting yet terrifying the experience was.

Gives so many compliments and praise to the human that they are just a flustered mess.

News about Swerve/Rally’s drifting and tricks gets around fast.

A few days later, Rally gets a bunch of bots asking to put on a show like the one with Swerve and offering themselves to them to drive.

Magnus has to get involved in making sure there is order in check with the line of bots wanting a turn to get driven.

They also get free drinks at Swerve’s for an entire week.

[factual-fantasy]

27 Asks! Thank you! :}} 💞

@peaspods

I might not be understanding, but I'm imagining this as people opening up commissions so people can give them money and they can turn around and donate that money to me..

I fear that this would create the opportunity to scam people.. "I'm taking commissions on behalf of Factual Fantasy! They're very sick so please commission me!" only for them to run away with the money they make..

I've been thinking a lot about setting up some kind of commission/donation thing because I'm starting to kind'a need the money.. but idk, I'm just kind'a run down and need some time to keep thinking about it. Thank you very much though <:)))

@zecromgen5

Thank you very much! :) And I've been hanging in there.. there hasn't been much improvement to my health or my mental state. The fact that in April it will officially been over a year since my health started to decline, and the fact that I'm going to spend my birthday at home collapsed on the couch has made me feel very sad <:( But I'm doing my best to work on it.. I'm hoping this new advice from my doctor helps me feel better <:)

And something good HAS happened actually, I got my tablet/FireAlpaca to work again! :))

XDD SJKFJSH AWW! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD

I've only seen a bit of it from Markiplier. So far I'm 50/50. Somethings I like and others I don't care for 😅

@neo-metalscottic

Thank you so much! :D 'm glad you've liked my recent artwork!! :}}}}

Also for Homes eyes, that was just meant to represent its oppressive presence and the fact that its watching them in that moment.. 👁️👁️

And I don't have any plans for any of the neighbors or Wally to figure out the house is alive. My AU is more like "a day in the life of" thing. Having someone discover Home is alive would move the plot forward. Which I don't feel like doing <XDD

Now communication... Home understands the concept, but he has no way of communicating other than creaking the floorboards and slamming doors..

I've heard about the well. That could work for Cliffjumper and Breakdown maybe.. and the twins perhaps.? But wouldn't they have to have Tailgates body in order to revive him? Hmmm.. idk actually,,

I've watched the bayverse movies, most of Prime and a few other things here and there. I didn't mind the bayverse movies that much, but I can see why a lot of people don't like them <XD

I just imaging trying to consume more than one Transformers media would be a lot to take on.. and I also don't like the animation styles of most other transformers shows 😅

(That's actually how I decided to watch Prime. I took a look at all the shows and went "this one looks ugly, this one looks ugly,, this one looks REALLY ugly.. Oh, this one doesn't look half bad. TFP it is then!")

@acreaturecalledkyfa

I've watched Markipliers first video on it. So far I'm not sure how I feel about those two 😅

The way I immediately opened YouTube and went looking for it XDD

@fandomcenteral (Link in ask)

Thank you so much! :DD This will come in handy!

@mason-gaylord

Aw! Thank you so much!! 🥰🥰

@im-nice-but-i-dont-like-you

Jangles would be a helicopter probably, Gerald would be a tank, Cici would be a Miata and Bibi would be a slightly raised up Miata XDD

Aw, I'm honored that you miss them <:}} Though I don't know if I'll draw them anytime soon.. I'm really not into inserted OCs anymore <:(

I'm waiting on Markiplier to release more videos on it <XD

@fadlingartisanfreakwinner

I like to imagine that Pokémon can learn dozens of moves. But 4 is the limit for official Pokémon battles. So any wild Pokémon in my comics can use/learn as many as they want :0

And yeah, they had that chat eventually. I just never got around to drawing it 😅

@wolfie-777

Nah nah its just iced tea XDDD

@whereismycupofcoffee

:DDD Thank you so much!! :}}}}

AAAA THANKYOU SO MCUHH!! :DDDD

@nuggybee

Yeahh,, Sky has its ups and downs. I'm currently in one of its downs. It seems like I'm let down by everything they're releasing 😓

@smithanonsworld

I feel like I've never seen a rabbit that color... its so cute 😭💞💞💞

@heaventhehedgi3

That sounds like me! Though I don't draw Octonauts anymore 😅

I'll keep it in mind! :0

🥹🥹🥹Aw... that's so sweet! Thank you so much!! 😭💞💞

@captain-skyler1987

You made an account just to follow me? :DD Aw that's so sweet! :) Thank you!

Also I'm sorry to hear you got the flu :(( I hope you're better by now!

I also have not played Dandy's world 😅

@stargirldrawsx3

The first thing that came to mind was very anxious all the time 😅

@network-warrior-01

Ah, that was an April fools post. <XD There is no drawing

[alacants]

Ok you might not be interested in this but you seem to be the tennisblr discourse person and your takes are so great so feel free not to answer haha - but I feel like this fandom collectively is sleeping on the potential of Novak/Carlos? Something about this Fedal baby appearing when all Novak's real rivals are gone who is openly affectionate with Nole like neither of them were. & the pain of Carlos losing matches he's expected to win very publicly to him all the time & getting criticised for falling for Novak's "mind games" (lol) but still not making any effort to stay away from him. And all the titan/titanito stuff IDK it compels me

kdlfjakldjf idk if i would describe my niche in the ecosystem in such maximal terms but. flattery will get you everywhere.

most importantly, you are RIGHT. there is massive potential here, in both their on-court history and their off-court dynamic. in fact there's so much material that i'm struggling to shape my thoughts into a coherent answer SORRY IN ADVANCE. ← need to stop acting like this isn't the norm.

ok first of all. rpf aside, this rivalry is fascinating because carlos alcaraz is doing more than anyone else around to validate novak's current day stature as a tennis player. and novak's at the stage of his career where you start to think about your legacy not just in the wider world but within tennis—how will you be remembered and talked about by those who inherit the sport from you. 

roger federer is the very, very obvious measuring stick. take this video (obligatory zverev & kyrgios warning). in a vacuum you'd never know who barely played half these guys versus who was out there making mincemeat of them on the regular while also holding every record known to man. such minced meat that those achievements aren't necessarily seen as a success for you so much as a referendum on them. 

and then along comes carlos alcaraz. and for reasons fair or unfair, tennis fans are so hungry for his arrival. they want to a new star, they want to see him dominate, and they want it to look exciting. and some tennis fans, in particular, would love to see novak djokovic get washed. 

which at first is what looks like is gonna happen. carlos wins his first wimbledon final at novak's expense. the emperor's been toppled, ding dong the witch is dead—and then cincinnati. then wimbledon again, and not even close, he's really for real dead, this time it's gonna take—and then the olympics. which is the first major final loss carlos has ever experienced, tears and all. and then the australian open, where carlos has set his sights loudly and uncompromisingly on the title and the career slam and the record. only guess what. not yet. 

and now novak is indisputably part of carlos' narrative, an active agent in a living breathing rivalry with a flesh-and-blood player instead of ghosts and record books. everyone says carlos alcaraz is the real thing. and that means that so, still, is novak. 

(meanwhile, in the space of 12 months jannik sinner happened. but i can't get into that or this post will REALLY get out of control.)

that's on court. where carlos plays not like rafa but like roger, and there's no way novak doesn't see that. ("spanish never die" notwithstanding.) off court, it's like falling into a mirrorverse. carlos isn't just willing to share the spotlight he's eager to have company. he is singlehandedly trying to yank the player he's identified as his closest peer up there on the same level with him well before anyone else gets it. and he thinks novak is one of the greats.

like yeah man WHAT IF time-traveling roger federer actually loved you. here's round two with a certified tennis genius who doesn't resent you and everything you represent and does laugh at your jokes and respect your achievements and speak in glowing terms about how you play tennis. it's gotta feel good, right?

and yet. not good enough to stop novak from doing what he has to do to win.

there's something similar yet very finely distinct about novak and carlos as top players and people persons. i'm boiling it down to, for novak it's being friends won't stop my talent and for carlos it's my talent shouldn't stop us from being friends. (i would say that's also roger coded, except imo roger's initial take, in the mid-00s, was that his talent very well MIGHT stop you from being friends and that's okay, he doesn't hold it against you. <3) in both cases, the feelings are genuine, and so is the confidence. 

novak's always wanted to be liked. he's the funny guy, he wants to make people laugh, he wants to be friends, but he is absolutely and totally unwilling to compromise the things that might make it easier to keep those friends. given a choice, he will always choose being the best. and if someone, or someones—especially someones—doesn't like him, well. for better or worse, he's learned to feed on it. this is no different. friendship and respect and affection and praise are not going to stop novak from using every tool at his disposal to win. every bit of understanding he's gained about his opponent as a person and a player. 

(my take on this is not actually negative by the way. if you're a professional athlete it's your responsibility to use those tools and to play the person as well as the player. also coming to the mind games sport and complaining about the mind games is like going to the circus and complaining about the clowns.)

i think that ao qf moment was so telling—the moment carlos was faux-limping and looking over at novak's bench with this sort of injured confusion like, why are you doing this to me. betrayed dog vibes to the max. the comments afterward as well. the tear was very real, but the reaction says a lot. like welcome to the novak djokovic experience kid! bff phrased it as "the phenomenon of accepting novak djokovic's overtures of friendship and inadvertently letting him into your psyche just enough for him to fuck with you the next time you play. he should talk to rafa about it." this isn't the only interpretation, but it sure is a tasty one.

and yet. carlos is demonstrably a lover not a hater. i would bet anything that—especially with the injury details out there—it's not going to change anything even if, like, IT SHOULD. there is this bit in anon's fic one is silver and the other gold, which is one of my favorite carlos & novak dynamics: Carlos wants to hate him. It would be easier; everything would be easier if he could hate all the people he's supposed to, for "proper competitive mindset" or whatever. But as usual, he just doesn't have it in him.

idk i think there is a ton of fascinating stuff to dig into wrt regret and cycles and second chances and novak's impending mortality and the nature of genius. i do think it's ultimately doomed but it's still really interesting. 

(or alternatively i mean. maybe the impending mortality DOES make the difference. maybe novak does get out of the time loop! like, i am most personally compelled by all of the above with the invisible presence of andy murray haunting the narrative BUT there is a pretty funny romcom alternative with novak's friend (!!!) and coach andy murray immediately clocking what's up and being like nole please don't get your heart broken by a twenty-one year old, which, HEY novak's been around the block a few times he's not gonna do something stupid… <- he is absolutely gonna do something stupid.)

[toa-archive]

Bellroc design path

As per Anon request there's going to be three posts regarding the Arcane Order consisting of any and all concept art we have of them. As ever with these it is far from impossible something else will belatedly turn up. Should this occur (And in this specific case would not be surprised), wherever it is added will have a [/edit xx/xx/xxxx] which includes a date marker. Just makes it easier to find the "new" thing :)

Also per Anon request we're starting with Bellroc! As a fun bonus fact, the voice meandering from masc to femme is both really cool and a Angel of Death from Hellboy reference. Particularly in this climate, we support non-binary they/them wrongs. So let's get to it!

First up is some initial concepts from Yingjue Chen! While this was originally figuring out Nari and thus forest themed, the left most one was repurposed into a fire wizard. Never went any further of course but still very neat to see how just changing some shapes and adding colour make something fresh from old ideas.

Source

Francisco Ruiz Velasco had his own stab at a bunch of wizards which are nigh impossible to pin down if it was for any of the Arcane Trio specifically or not. Still important to include tho :) This one will very understandably appear in all three.

Source goes to Linkedin so may require an account.

Then seemingly all of a sudden Bellroc as we know them pops up, also by Francisco Ruiz Velasco, who would finalise their design. This is a crop from a height chart shown during the Art of Wizards panel and when you compare it to the artwork below (Also from the panel), they do seem to get tightened up considerably.

Now this was uploaded outside the panel as well, which is great as can see it at a decent size, though does lacks one sketch and the specifics of their eyes. It's very possible that someone else drew/painted those though who if that is the case is currently unknown.

Source

The next one to appear is their texture markup by Isaac Orloff! This is an absolute goldmine for your reference needs, particularly all their little details.

Source

Decided to add a trio of bonuses just for fun. You might have noticed the Order pops up in the Wizards credits sequence though unlike Trollhunters and 3Below, it is not Headless Studios. They were drawn in a similar way though! They are by Alison Donato.

Source

Ivan Gozali, who boarded on Wizards, had a bunch of Bellroc sketches on his website which were likely related to boards he may have done that are not public. Sadly, said sketches suddenly vanished one day and to date only one of these has been recovered. This is a good a time as any to show it.

This is also a great excuse to yet again break out Francisco Ruiz Velasco's Order band poster again! In part due to them only appearing in colour keys for RotT otherwise. Well, there's one exception but want to save it for it's own post...

Source goes to Linkedin so may require an account.

Can't forget Bellroc's staff! Presumably it was modeled after Fruiz's design as Alison Donato mentions her texture work here was painted over a blank. Unlike the other two which do have 2D reference art for the design, it's not been seen publicly at this time.

Source

On the more magical front there is a tiny screenshot from the Art of Wizards panel which shows the magic effects for Bellroc. It is unknown who the right two images belong to however -

We do have a bigger version of the left image which we know is by Yingjue Chen! Aren't effects neat?

Source

Poking Rise of the Titans a moment, thanks to Andy Murray we have the glow up eye effect for Bellroc. This has been cropped from a larger image for fitting this post reasons only. Have to scroll back up for the Wizards version!

Source

And for fun since we also have it, this is the Arcane Circle for Bellroc which is shown on the Fire Titan including the Genesis Seal marker. As above it has been cropped for fitting this post reasons only. This time they are by Sean Wang.

Source

To close up a fun little tidbit! Thanks to Bianca Siercke we have the temporary name for Bellroc before they became, well, Bellroc. It was Belrog!

Source

When all three posts are up there will be a link here to the other two members. For now it is a placeholder:

Bellroc - Nari - Skrael

Anon if you could say who you would like next will appreciate it~