#BUT HAHA YAY VOICE ACTING

[stillbreathing-aer]

dude what the fuck. garroth is back but now i'm upset. AND IM UPSET THAT IM UPSET. THAT DUMB BITCH QUESTION MARKS JUST GETS TO FUCK UP OUR STORY THEN LEAVE??? WHAT THE FUUUUUCK

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 4

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: JMKink is nothing and everything that you need and want it to be. Meanwhile, you are nothing and everything that Joel imagines you to be.

WC: 13.8k

TW: Warnings are below the cut in small red, feel free to skip them if you want to avoid chapter spoilers, but there are some descriptions of reader so I would classify this as more of an original character versus a blank canvas female reader.

AN: I actually cannot believe how many of you reached out all excited about September 1st approaching. From the bottom of my cold dead heart, thank you!! The more I write this, the more I picture video game Joel, so do with that what you will haha. Thanks so @ak-vintage and @lotusbxtch for beta reading for me. Support banners and dividers by @saradika-graphics. I recently got promoted at work (yay me), but the job is now waaaaaay more work than before, so enjoy this chapter slowly because I am not sure when I will be writing chapter 5.

Series Masterlist || My Masterlist

TW: p in v, dirty talk, sub dom relationships, age gap, alcohol consumption, flirting, voyeurism, description of a threesome and other sexual acts, use of sex toys, nipple clamps, female orgasm, talks of neglectful parents during childhood and loss of a spouse. Mutual pining.

“Hnnng, fuck yes, daddy.” He’s rutting into you deeper than anyone else ever has. Long, slow strokes of his heavy cock sending you into a spiral of white hot, sparkling nirvana. 

“So fuckin’ wet n’ tight. Fuck, sweet girl.” His deep voice devours you - rattling around your skull, echoing slightly as if you’re in a large, empty room. 

Everything is black; darker than the onyx pits of his eyes. You’re not sure if you’re up or down, and you’re either blindfolded or have your face buried in a pillow as he fucks into you from behind. All you can feel is the pleasurable push and pull of his thick, vein lined cock slamming in and out of you. The vast darkness and the feeling of him filling you so full is overwhelming

“Please, daddy. Please. I’m so close.”

The soft mushroom head of his cock is kissing right where he taught you to crave it, and you wouldn’t be surprised if that spongy spot had ‘Property of Joel Miller’ branded on it by now. Within seconds of him pressing inside of you tonight you had completely submitted to him; surrendering to the darkness, the sensation, the exquisite pleasure. This is exactly where you were meant to be, and he’s the only one you’d want to be here with. It has never been this good, and even with your limited experience you know that it will probably never be this good with anyone else. 

“Don’t stop this time. Please don’t stop this time.” You’re an aching, crying, desperate crumb of yourself; wholly at his mercy.  

“No coming until I say.” His voice seems further away with every word and dread settles in your stomach as it all starts to fade.

“No! Nonono. Please no.” You feel a hot tear run down your face as the euphoria fades. You can barely feel or hear him anymore as little slits of yellow light appear. You blink once, twice. After a third long blink your bedroom comes into view.

Fuck. 

This has been the start of your new three part morning routine for the last few nights, since that kiss with Joel, since filling out your preferences and signing all the waivers. Since being asked to submit test results and proof of birth control. Since Joel Miller became your Dom. Night after night you dream of him fucking you, and night after night, right as you’re about to fall over the edge, he tells you not to come until he says and you wake up.

The second part of your morning routine is a lot more cathartic and vocal - very vocal. Your newly painted cotton candy pink nails (anything to stay distracted and busy) dig into the soft cotton of your pillow as you pull it out from behind your head, pressing it to your face and screaming until your throat feels raw.

Fuck.

When all the breath is pushed from your lungs, you put your pillow back and kick off the blanket. Your bare feet drag along the worn down carpet of your bedroom to the cold and cheap linoleum of your bathroom. You pee, avoiding your clit at all costs when you clean up. You know you’re down fucking bad when even the scratchy 1-ply toilet paper is enough to make you almost crumble. 

Part three of your new morning ritual is probably the part that shocks you the most. You change into leggings and a tank top, slipping a ten dollar bill and your house key into the side of your sports bra. The old springs of your mattress creak as you sit to slip on socks and your lavender colored runners, that you honestly forgot you owned until the morning after your twenty second birthday. You sneak out of your apartment, careful not to wake your roommate and jog down the stairs from your fourth floor suite to step into the cool March morning air.

Fuck. 

After shaking out each leg, you start to run. There’s no technique to your form or a planned out route. You leave your phone behind, only sounds are the morning traffic and your struggling breath to keep you company. It's just you, pushing your body to forget how badly you’re throbbing between your thighs and trying to erase the feeling of him. As you turn the corner at the end of your block you can see the bright green grass and leafy trees of the park. Your calf muscles burn with every step, but it’s not enough; you can still feel him. As you reach the park your lungs start to burn; they feel like they’re filling with fluid. Your ankles protest with every strike of your feet against the concrete. Finally, just as you swear you’re about to meet your maker it happens, the sweet release you’re pushing for. Finally every trace of the ghost of Joel Miller disappears. 

Your legs slow below you and you clutch your side, wandering lazily around the park. The rush of blood through your ears is nearly deafening, almost completely drowning out the chirping of the birds and the trickling of the water in the large stone fountain. You suck in quick, deep breaths, essentially doing everything and anything not to pass out. You’re free from him, if only for a little bit, as you fight against what feels like death knocking on your door. 

As you walk home you grab a coffee - black with just a splash of almond milk, apologizing to the barista as you hand her the sweaty ten dollar bill that was tucked into your bra and begin mentally scheduling your day. It’s Monday, which means you don’t work today and you can focus on studying and laundry. Your LSAT retake is just a few days away, today is your last full free day, and you have to get as much studying and practicing done as possible. The dread of taking that test again has your hot coffee doing flips in your stomach. Getting some college letters would really help put you at ease. You know you applied early but it would be nice to know if you need to continue to push or if you can finally rest. 

When you get back to your apartment your roommate has already left for her classes. You check your phone and your heart lurches in your chest at Joel’s name across your cracked lock screen. There’s been no contact between the two of you since Friday night. You slide open the text with shaky fingers

Good Morning, sweet girl. Are you ready to learn? 

You bite your lip as you respond. 

Yes, please, Mr Miller. 

You stare at the text thread for a while. Although you aren’t sure if a total of three texts can be considered a thread, but you stare anyway trying to will more messages into existence. After a few minutes you give up, locking your phone and stripping your bedsheets. The trek to the laundry in the building feels like it takes forever and you rush back to check your phone. There’s no response but you do have a little red bubble on your JMK app. You excitedly tap on the app to see a new menu titled ‘Dominant Preferences’ added at the top. When you click it, everything from your Reddit wormholes is revealed.

 ‘Joel Miller likes to participate in bondage play, nipple play, toy play, dirty talk, oral sex (both giving and receiving), and fingering. He doesn’t like brat taming, but is willing to participate in scenes where his submissive needs to be put in her place occasionally. He never has sexual intercourse - vaginal or anal, this is a hard limit for him and his submissives need to understand that there is zero room for negotiation on this matter. He’s very open to impact play, but believes that only good girls should get spankings.’

You click off the little ‘Read and Accepted’ box at the bottom without hesitation. As if he’s waiting for you to accept, he texts you seconds after your finger has made contact with the screen. 

8pm tomorrow. I’m sending a car for you. You should dress comfortably.

The same kind faced man from your birthday waits for you outside your apartment at 7:30 the next night. He opens the door, smiling gently at you as you hop in; leather and new car smell wafting around you. During the drive to the club you learn his name is Arthur, but my friends call me Cap. 

“Can I ask you a question, Cap?” You ask as downtown comes into view.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you drive all of Joel’s, umm, do you drive lots of women around for Joel?”

He chuckles knowingly from the driver's seat, glancing into the rearview mirror at you. “No ma’am. Joel is a pretty secretive man. I have driven him places when he’s alone, or I drive Tommy’s subs, but never Joels.”

You nod and look out the window. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you.

Cap rushes to open the door when he pulls up to JMKink. The club is in a different building than Joel’s office; that was in the tall building across the street. Three bright and expansive floors of that red stone faced building belonged to JM Inc. Assumingly, the home base for all the businesses he has his hands in. This building, however, is smaller amongst the tall skyscrapers of the Austin skyline. The entire building is coated in a shiny black chrome, from the steel framing to the windows, except for the golden JMK logo on the front door. You take a calming breath before heading up the steps, the blacked out glass door slides open automatically.

Your dark high heeled boots click on the black and honey flecked marble, the floor reminding you of Joel’s eyes. You wish the marble would suck you into it so you could live in that feeling you get when Joel looks at you. Where it might be seen as cold and intimidating to others, to you it feels warm and inviting, almost familiar, and that little box of feelings in the back of your mind stirs a little bit. 

He told you to dress comfortably tonight, and you felt most at ease in a deep green sweater dress and knee high heeled boots. The dress just barely skims your thighs, making your legs look long and toned. You could use a tan, but it’s only March, everyone in Texas could use a tan at this point. You left your hair down in loose curls and kept your makeup minimal, as always. 

There are three people in the small foyer. Two stunning women stand behind the hostesses desk in matching black dresses and collars. To the right of them stands a man who looks like he could kill you with his pinkie. He’s also dressed in all black, and stands in front of a large door. Everything here seems like it’s meant to intimidate but all you can see and feel is the safety that comes with knowing Joel Miller. 

One of the women looks up at you, smiling comfortingly and asks for your name. Before you can respond, Joel's honey lined voice answers her. The sound of your name on his tongue feels like taking a breath of fresh winter air. Goosebumps break out across your skin, your own breath leaping in your throat as you spin slowly to meet his gaze. There’s no other way to around it, Joel Miller is fucking exquisite. His slightly outgrown curls are pushed back, silver reflecting off his temples and throughout his beard. Tonight he’s wearing a deep midnight blue Tom Ford suit with one jacket button done up, underneath he’s wearing a crisp white t-shirt, paired with brown dress shoes and what you assume will be a matching belt. One of his hands is tucked in the pocket of pants that literally look like they weren’t made for him, the other hangs loose at his side and you catch that gold ring again.  

He doesn’t take his eyes off you as he speaks to everyone in the lobby, “You’re all to remember her name. She is my guest, my only guest, and as far as you’re all concerned she’s the most important person in this club. Understand?”

The little box of feelings lifts its lid a little. No, you say to the box, banishing it back to its dark corner.

A jumbled mess of ‘yes’ and ‘sorry’ fills the lobby but the only thing that’s clear to you is Joel as he wanders over, placing his hand on the small of your back, and leading you towards the large black door that the lethal looking man is guarding. As he pulls you into his side his voice quiets, his words a low growl meant only for you. “Hi, sweetheart.” When he sponges a soft kiss to your temple you press your lips together to stop the giggle that’s trying to burst out of you. Joel Miller makes you giddy in a way that you haven’t felt since you were much younger and saw a One Direction music video for the first time. 

This afternoon, you had your easily predicted moment of panic. As with every decision you’ve ever made, you started to think that this wasn’t the right one. Maybe Tommy was the safer choice. Maybe you’ve bit off more than you can chew, or girlbossed too close to the proverbial sun. Or in kink terms, flirted too closely with the St Andews Cross. But now, being here tucked tightly against Joel's side as he guides you into your first experience with the world of kink you couldn’t feel any more sure of your decision. 

You hold your breath as the shiny black marble door opens, this feels like one of those big climatic moments you see in the movies, like you know the main character's life is about to change, and a nervous excitement buzzes through your veins. As the club comes into view it’s nothing like you thought. For starters, there aren’t cages or naked people around, and at first glance it looks just like a lounge in a high end hotel or restaurant. JMKink is beautiful, breathtaking.

 Light pine flooring is set in a herringbone pattern across the entire club. Directly in front of you are a few tall tables and then, situated in the middle of the space, is a large black marble bar. The bartender is surrounded by a halo of soft chiffon light that casts down from a brushed gold chandelier. The tables and bar top have tealight candles on them, making the entire thing feel sensual and soft. It’s just dimly lit enough that you can’t see beyond the bar from here. Joel guides you gently to the right. The booths that line the wall are only illuminated by the flickering candle on the table. Three of the booths are roped off, guarded by a tank of a man in a black suit. As Joel leads you towards them, you notice each of those tables have a gold plated reserved sign along with a name; Joel, Tommy and Tess. 

Confusion swirls in your brain at the romantic feeling the club gives off. Part of you expected to walk into a sex dungeon or that red room that Christian took Anastasia to, but you definitely weren’t expecting this. If this place was just a bit brighter you could imagine studying here on weekends. 

This isn’t a sex club, there’s no way.

As you slide into the furthest booth you’re able to see a small stage on the back wall and empty dance floor looking area on the other side of the bar. You can feel Joel’s warm gaze on you as you look around with wide eyes. Right when you’re almost convinced that you interpreted the information you found on Reddit wrong, your eyes land on the far left side of the room.

No, now that you see if from this angle, you are indeed in a kink club; a well stocked kink club based on the entire sex shop in the corner. You feel your cheeks flush and you dart your eyes towards Joel, pushing at your cuticle under the table, smiling shyly at him.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” His voice is syrupy and warm as two drinks land on the table. Whiskey neat for him and some sort of pink martini for you.

“Nothing..I just, it’s not what I expected,” you swallow the sand that’s found its way into your throat at seeing all those sex toys just out on display in the corner and flick your eyes towards your drink.

“That's a cosmopolitan. I can get you something else if you want, sweetheart. The female staff here seems to love them.”

“No, I should have said thank you. I’m sorry.” His hand comes to meet yours as it’s picking furiously at the non-existent skin of your nail bed. He wraps his hand tightly around yours, and brings them to rest on the top of the table together.

“Take a breath, sweet girl. You’re ok.” His words wrap around you tightly, calming you. You’re ok. Your heart rate slows and you relax into the plush velvet lined booth a little bit, smiling sheepishly up at Joel. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” Your free hand grabs the martini glass and you bring it to your nose, it smells like cranberry and lime.

As you take a small sip Joel says, “You really don’t have to drink it, baby girl. I can get you whatever.”

The vodka burns away any sand that remains in your throat. It’s tart, and dangerously delicious. You can see yourself getting very fucked up these with your girlfriends one day soon. “No, I like it. Thank you.”

After putting the glass safely on the table, Joel lets go of your hand, wraps his arm around your waist and slides you across the seat, pressing you to his side. “Is this ok?”

JOEL

His cock twitches at the little hum you make in agreement. You lift your leg closest to him and rest it over his under the table. He squeezes your side gently, sinking into the comfort of you and grabs his whiskey. “So if this isn’t what you thought, what were you expecting?”

He loves the way you blush a little before answering him. “People just, you know, it’s a sex club, so just having sex here.”

He lowers his head to yours and whispers just for you, “There are people having sex here, sweet girl.”

He laughs to himself as your eyes narrow and you look around at the other people in the bar. “Not out here, just because you’re in a sex club doesn’t mean you have to consent to seeing or hearing people fuck. Or to be having sex yourself, really.” He loves the way you look at him with surprise at his boldness. He cocks his head towards a guarded door between the stage and booths along the wall, “But behind that door - well, people are indulging as we speak.”

He watches the small shiver of your spine, pulling back to take a sip of his whiskey, allowing you time to look around and become comfortable in your surroundings. He watches your perfect lips part, finding himself jealous of the rim of the glass as you take another sip. Great, first spoons and now glasses. As he watches your neck work to liquid down he says, “So did you leave that little pussy alone like I asked?”

Your head whips to face him, he can’t quite place your facial expression. It’s a twisted  mix of fear, shyness and embarrassment, like you’re worried that someone may have heard him say pussy; but if you only knew the kinds of things happening in this club right now.

“What?” you ask shakily.

“Did you come? Or did you listen?”

“Umm…I,” he can tell that you’re flustered, and he finds you nearly irresistible like this.

“Are you nervous, sweet girl?”

He’s not sure if you realize it, but when you’re tense and he calls you by that nickname you relax a little. Your shoulders lower, the little crease in between your eyebrows softens. “No,” you say, and he’s not convinced.

Joel deepens his voice, a voice he only intends to use when you’re at the club together. Or when she’s in my bedroom. He pushes any thoughts of you outside of the confines of this space away, “Lesson number one, don’t lie to your Dom. We have to be able to trust each other.”

You look up at him through your lashes and it damn near kills him. You’re so beautiful, absolutely glowing against all the black in the room. The soft golden light bounces off of every little perfect piece of you; from the deep cupid's bow above your top lip, to the caramel highlights in your hair. He can tell by the long breath you suck in that you’re about to do that adorable thing where you ramble. “I’m nervous, but it’s an excited kind of nervous. And no, I didn’t…that thing.” 

He can’t fight the smile at your shyness, “Lesson number two, If you can’t say it then you shouldn’t be here. What thing, sweet girl?”

You close your eyes and say, “Come,” and then open your eyes to look at him again. 

So shy. So cute. I’m fucked, so very fucked, he thinks. He takes another pull of his whiskey if only to keep his hands and lips busy and to himself. He usually enjoys the burn but with you beside him it tastes sweeter.

As you bring your martini glass to your lips he commands, “One more time, this time look at me when you say it.”

Over your glass, sparkling eyes locked on him you mumble, “I didn’t come, Joel.”

“That reminds me. Lesson number three, as soon as we cross the threshold into my private room, you will refer to me as Mister Miller only. Out here, and anywhere else, I can be Joel, but in there,” he tilts his head towards a door on the other side of the stage, this one isn’t guarded, instead there’s a security pad that you need to have a microchip to unlock, “In there, I’m Mister Miller. Understand?”

He watches your throat again as you swallow, the palm of his hand tingles at the thought of wrapping his hand around it again. One of your eyebrows raises just a touch and he knows that cheeky little line of your lips. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

Your voice is husky as you say it and this time it’s him who has to fight the goosebumps rising on his skin and the icy shiver trailing down his spine. So perfect. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You don’t make eye contact with him when you say it, like you fear he might say no and he has a feeling that whoever made you feel that you needed to make plans A through Z also told you are a burden for asking questions. Joel isn’t a violent man, but would happily ring whoever’s neck did this to you.

“Of course, sweet girl.”

You turn to face him, taking a sip of your martini before you say, “Why did you send me into your basement that day?”

Joel clears his throat, weighing how transparent he wants to be in his answer, but there’s no hiding it after what he said to you in his office last week. “I’m not always going to be nice to you here, sweet girl. I’m going to push you, I might even hurt you. Yes, it’s all consensual, but I didn’t want you thinkin’ I’m some sort of monster.”

He watches as you take a long pull of the pink liquid from your glass. You set it back on the table, the earlier tremble of your hand gone as you reply, “Thank you for being honest with me. I don’t think I could ever see you as a monster, Mister Miller. I need this.”

The devious smile you give him has his cock come to life. He doesn’t fuck his subs, but he would take you right here in this booth if he could. “Would you like a tour of the club?”

Your eyes light up, “Can I bring my drink?”

“Anywhere out here, yes. But not behind those two doors.” He takes the last drink from his whiskey and then watches as you take two big gulps to finish your Cosmopolitan. Your nose crinkles at what he assumes is the burn of the vodka.

“So fuckin’ cute,” Joel says quietly, and hopefully just to himself, as he slides out of the booth.

No, you say to the little box of feelings when you overhear his whispered words, don’t start with me right now.

You follow him as he heads towards the store in the corner. Even with the condoms, dildos, plugs, gags, whips, lube and all sorts of other things on display it’s somehow still classy and beautiful. Lots of these things you’ve never seen before, or had any desire to play with, but you’re pretty sure you’d try almost anything with Joel. 

He nods at the man working the store counter and then walks you around the main area, his voice thick with passion as he speaks. “Usually on Friday and Saturday nights there's more of a nightclub feel, couples who like to swap partners can mingle with the room. This is a safe space, monogamous couples aren’t offended by the attention and everyone stays very respectful of others wishes and limits. There’s a drink limit of course, keeping things safe and consensual is my utmost priority.”  

You walk slowly, crossing the middle of the currently unoccupied dance floor, “That stage is often used for workshops or shows. This is a place to learn just as much as it’s a place to enjoy sex and kink. We have a new workshop coming up next week actually.”

The two of you stop beside the guarded door - the door Joel said people were indulging behind. You can’t help but be curious about what's happening back there, but you’re also desperately horny and unsure how you might react to whatever is unfolding in the dark. The man standing in front of the door is also dressed in a black suit, this seems to be the uniform of those who work at JM Kink, he says a cordial, “Good Evening, Joel.” Then nods at you and adds, “Miss.”

You jump as Joel’s hand connects with yours, his strong fingers linking with your slender ones. He spins you to face him. His freehand cups your chin, the band of his ring cold against your pink flushed skin. He tilts your face up to meet his, seriousness etched across his face. “My sweet girl, behind that door can be a bit intense at first. You’re an adult, but you shouldn’t have to see anything you don’t want to see. So you’re in charge in there. If you want to leave, we leave. If you want to cover your eyes, do it and I’ll lead you away. On the contrary, if you see something you like and want to get closer, then get closer. If you have questions, just ask. Ok?”

You nod, and Joel leads you through what you hope is the second life changing door of the night. The air feels different on this side of the threshold, something about it makes you feel like you’ve been plugged into a low voltage socket, you’re buzzing in an exciting and dangerous way. It’s dark enough in here that you can’t see your black boots as they click quietly against the hardwood. Joel's strong hand comes around your waist, tucking you into the side of his body protectively. After taking a deep breath, the familiar ash and leather scent of Joel intoxicating and calming your senses, you look up.

You and Joel stand intertwined at one end of a long rectangular room. Across from where you stand and down to your left and right the wall is lined with large windows. On the side of the hallway where you stand are plush chairs and couches, some of which are occupied by singles or couples as they watch what’s happening beyond the windows. 

You wonder if it gets easier, standing in a dark hall where you can watch people fucking. Joel is so calm, like a still glassy sea, meanwhile you are fighting against the tides. He stands almost statuesque, his thumb rubbing calming circles on your hip, while keeping you tucked safely into him. He has made it clear that you’re in charge here, so staying in the shadows as much as possible, you wander towards the first window. As if he’s another limb on your body, Joel follows you effortlessly. 

Your heart thumps in your chest as you approach the first window. The room has a large bed that remains untouched. A man is tied to a chair at the end of the bed with black silk ties, and you stifle a gasp at the painful looking device he has clamped around his hard cock. You can hear his whines through the ball gag, and the moans of pleasure from the woman spread eagle on the floor in front of him as she fucks herself with a large dildo.

Joel’s soft stubble brushes against your ear as he whispers, “We won’t be doing that.”

“Looks fun for me,” you giggle and he lightly pinches your hip.

The next window has the blinds drawn, little slits of light illuminating the edges is the only sign that someone is in the room. “You can choose to let people watch or not watch, as well as how much you want those in the voyeur area to hear when you rent the rooms,” Joel explains softly as you approach the next open window.

The bed in this room is occupied by three people. A curvy woman is lying down on her back, a copper skinned man with a shaved head has his face buried in her pussy while a fully tattoed beefcake of man fucks his ass. The look of pure pleasure on all their faces has your clit twitching and aching. And when Joel lowers himself to your ear the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

“We also won’t be doing that,” Joel’s voice is so light and carefree. For a second you forget that any minute now he’s going to use that deep baritone voice to boss you around while you’re completely naked.

“Again, it also looks fun for me,” you joke, and a small smile crosses your lips as you feel Joel’s body shake with silent laughter beside yours. There’s about ten windows in this room from what you can see, most are closed or dark, probably since it’s a weekday. You lead the two of you down the room to the next open window. “Can they see us?”

“Not unless you get close to the glass,” he instructs. You stop in your tracks at the next window. Despite your teasing with Joel the last two were not your thing, but this window you could easily watch for a while. A man and a woman lay on the large red silk sheeted bed while hundreds of battery operated candles flicker around them. He’s on top of her, one of her legs slung over his shoulder, the other around his waist. As you step closer you can see a sparkly, thin layer of sweat coating both their bodies as they slowly grind together, kissing passionately. You take another step closer, if they want to be seen then it shouldn’t matter if they see you. Once you’re close enough you can hear the gentle moans she’s making as he thrusts slowly in and out of her. 

“Well,” you say softly, leaning into Joel’s side and looking up into his warm chocolate eyes, “That doesn’t look so bad.”

He cranes his neck and places a lingering kiss on your forehead and as your eyelids flutter closed you can no longer deny just how turned on you are. He pulls back to look at you, smiling slightly before saying, “When I first got here he had her hogtied and was paddling her.”

“Like I said,” you say while giggling softly, “That doesn’t look so bad.” 

The two of you watch them for a while as they fuck languidly. This should feel wrong, watching something so personal, but the beauty of them together like this is comforting and almost inviting. Her cries grow louder and as she starts to shake he pauses his hips, fully seated inside of her while whispering and smiling down at her, pushing her sweat soaked hair off her forehead. The love behind the glass is so palpable that you feel yourself getting choked up a little. 

Just as you’re about to ask Joel to take you to his room, you notice another window with about five people lined up along the glass. Curiosity gets the better of you and you lead Joel the few steps to see what’s going on. No longer feeling nervous or shy, you step right up to the glass. This time, Joel moves his body to be behind yours, pulling your back against his strong body. One of his arms wraps around your middle, the other sweeps your hair to one side and then rests gently on your shoulder. 

The set up of this room is similar to the others you’ve seen: a large bed to the right, a chair to the left, and a chest of drawers to the back. There’s a woman strapped face up on the bed, wrists and ankles bound to the four posts of the frame. Her perky breasts rise and fall rapidly with her breathing. At the back of the room, a broad tanned man faces away from you, looking through a drawer for something. As your eyes travel up his back from his hard, round ass cheeks he spins to face the window. You step back into Joel as Tommy Miller’s gaze flicks to the people along the window and then to the sub he’s chosen for the night. 

In your sane mind you tell yourself that you should look away. It's one thing to watch strangers but watching someone you sort of know feels like an invasion of their privacy. Plus, there’s no way Joel wants to see his brother like this. As if he can read your mind, Joel's lips brush against your neck, “I’m right here, sweet girl. Tommy likes an audience, he’s an exhibitionist, and lots of members come just to watch him.” 

You glance up at Joel and he smiles softly. Your voice is just above a whisper, “Can we watch for a bit?” 

“You’re in charge, sweetheart.” He patiently reminds you as you nod and look back towards the room.

The horny demon that seems to have taken over your body since catching Joel in his office has you dying to see more: more sex, more kink, more Tommy. Without consciously controlling it, your eyes travel down his tanned chest, to the hair around his belly button and then down to his fully erect cock. You can’t help but appreciate the beauty of his body, he looks like he’s carved out of stone, and that includes his cock. He’s decently long, but thick, a prominent vein running along one side of it. It’s slightly upturned and the head is smooth and glistening with precome. He looks so powerful and the small fire that’s been building in your stomach grows.  

You bite at your bottom lip nervously, crossing your arms to rest on top of the one Joel has wrapped around you. Tommy walks over to the bed; grasped in one of his large hands is a black vibrator, his other holds a small glass jar housing a lit candle. He climbs onto the bed, then drizzles hot wax along the woman's thighs. Her back arches off the bed and through the speakers along the glass you hear her pained moans. Tommy watches her intently, his lips moving but you can’t hear what he’s saying. Once she’s settled back on the bed, Tommy places the vibrator on her clit.

She writhes and pulls at the velvety cuffs holding her to the bed. “Sir, oh god, I’m - I’m gonna - Sir, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

When she calls him sir you see the dark flash of obsidian across his eyes, the same look when you called him that at the poker game. Through your research, you know that doms have preferred names and your cheeks flush a little at the thought of accidentally using his with him. 

Tommy pulls the vibrator away right before she falls over the edge and drizzles wax on her stomach. She cries out with more desperation this time, and then again, once she’s calm Tommy places the vibrator between her thighs. It’s suddenly hard to breathe and when you step back into Joel you feel his cock is hard against your back and a fresh wave of arousal coats the lace of your panties. 

Tommy takes the vibrator away as she starts shaking and moaning, then hot wax splashes down her sternum. You feel antsy, like little pins and needles are pricking along your entire body. You squeeze your thighs together, Joel's warm breath against your neck causes you to shudder. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” he hums.

“N-nothing.”

“You sure? You’re squirmin’.” His hand runs slowly down your arm, your hands moving on their own so he can wrap you in his muscle lined arms. A light kiss lands just below your ear and you bite back a moan.  

The combination of not being allowed to have an orgasm, the feeling of Joel’s warm body pressed against you, and the erotic scenes you’ve witnessed tonight is almost too much. It’s also not lost on you that that could have been you in there with Tommy right now. Your clit is throbbing between your legs, and you aren’t sure if you have ever been this turned on. 

Joel smiles into your skin as you watch Tommy tease his sub with the vibrator again, “Do you like what you’re seein’?”

You nod, trying to calm your breathing. It hitches as he adds, “Would you like to try that one day?”

Wax hits one of her nipples, the beads hardening along the peak of her perky, round breast. You adjust your stance to cross your legs together, squeezing hard to ease the almost painful ache at the apex of your thighs. Her and Tommy speak softly to one another, he smiles down at her, puts the candle down and then adjusts himself between her legs, spreading the lips of her puffy pussy with two fingers and putting the vibrator right where you know it would ruin you. 

“Would you?” Joel repeats.

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You say, your voice shaky, almost like it’s impossible to form words as you look up at him. He’s so beautiful in the shadowy light, his tanned skin almost seems to glow against the darkness.  

His eyes dance around your face, his voice comes out soft and sensual, quiet enough for just you to hear, “Do you want to go play now, sweet girl?”

You bite your cheek to try to fight the smile, but as Joel’s eyes flick to your lips it’s no use. A shy smile tugs at the corners of your soft pink lips. “Are you going to let me come?”

He looks at you the same way he did when you drank the water and ate that toast. Pride. He’s proud of you for asking for what you want, and you can almost feel your insecurity and fear around asking for things starting to shrink. 

The softness in his voice morphs into a growl, “If you’re a good girl.”

You spin your body towards him, determination lacing your face. “I can be your good girl, Mister Miller.”

Joel’s strong fingers link with yours and a quiet giggle passes your lips as he hauls you towards a door in the shadows close to where you two entered. Truthfully, if it wasn't for the little red light on the security pad, you wouldn’t have even known there was a door there. He waves his ring past the device and after a quiet beep sounds the light flashes green and the door clicks open. He pulls you through and as soon as Joel hears the final click of the door closing he hauls you over his shoulder. Your squeal at your world literally turning upside down with his brute strength melts into an aroused moan as his strong hands grasp the back of your bare thighs.

When Joel stops walking, you tear your eyes away from his perfectly sculpted ass, like these pants must be stuffed, there’s no way this man has a better ass than me. You glance up to see two other doors; assumingly belonging to Tommy and Tess. A familiar beep sounds in the quiet hall and your throat goes dry as he steps into his room. He takes a few long strides before sliding you down his muscle lined chest and placing you at the foot of the bed. He stays close, your breasts just barely grazing his warm body. Your gazes are locked, and even though you’ve grown comfortable with his intense need for eye contact your breathing still goes shaky and uneven. 

Oh fuck, this is it. 

His hand cradles your cheek, “You read and signed off on everything in the app, but I want to reiterate a few things, baby girl.”

You swallow hard, his finger now tracing down your throat and you swear you can feel every whorl of his fingertips as they trail along your soft skin. 

“From now on, you belong to me and I belong to you. No one else. You are not allowed to come unless I say.” 

His hand continues its road trip of your body, settling to wrap around the nape of your neck. “Y-Yes, Mister Miller.” 

“I have a no sex rule. I’ll give you orgasms, I’ll fuck you with my fingers and toys, even my tongue, but not my cock. I need you to understand that my rule is nothing against you, sweetheart. Are you ok with that?”

“Yes, sir, Mister Miller,” you coo. The nervous excitement from early has returned, every bit of skin that he’s touching is almost humming, butterflies with sharp wings scrape at your stomach. You bring your hands to the lapels of his expensive blue suit, fisting the soft fabric.  

“Fuuck,” he moans, “That sounds so pretty coming out of your mouth, sweet girl.” 

You smile up at him. He squeezes the back of your neck gently, his other hand cradling your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The rough pad of his thumb caresses your chin. “Nothin’ tonight that will require a safeword-”

“Stegosaurus,” you say eagerly, cutting him off. It’s silly really, but that little dinosaur on top of his coffee machine is what first intrigued you about the anonymous millionaire whose home had been assigned to you to clean. It also has some sort of meaning to him, so it seemed only natural for that to be your safeword. 

He smiles, laughing gently, “Not tonight, baby. If you want to stop tonight, just say so and I’ll stop. Ok?” 

Your pussy flutters at the unexpected moments to come, but a gnawing anxiety starts to claw at your chest. You’re not sure what causes the shift, but suddenly you go from excited nervous to just plain nervous. Am I ready to give up control? What if he sees me naked and doesn’t like it. He said it was only me, what if he regrets that decision? 

Your chest tightens, the knife-winged butterflies multiplying and traveling up your throat. Joel must sense a shift in you, he steps closer to you and softens his eyes as they dance around your face, a silent sign that he’s patiently waiting for you. If you said you wanted to go home you know he would kiss you softly and call your new friend Cap, but you don’t want that. You want this, you want whatever is about to happen; you just need to let go.

Vulnerability is thick in your voice as you break one of his rules and murmur, “J-Joel?” 

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice waivers, making you feel a little bit better. 

“I’m nervous.” 

He lowers his head towards yours, running the tip of his hooked nose down the slender bridge of yours. You close your eyes and take him all in. He’s warm and hard, yet somehow so soft. His familiar ash and leather scent is mixed with the expensive whiskey he drank earlier. 

“So am I, sweet girl,” he whispers into your lips before kissing you softly. You melt into him, his hands moving to cup your face. His soft lips sponge against yours and everything quiets. You’re not sure how he does it, but kissing him feels like dunking your head under water, everything silences, all the nervousness dissipates. It’s just the two of you, floating in tandem in an endless void. 

He’s nervous too? Because of me? I make this strong, successful, brooding man nervous? Your inner voice of anxiety starts to settle. I’m safe here.

The comfort of your thoughts is enough to have you pulling yourself into Joel more. You increase the intensity of your kiss, turning your head and parting your lips slightly. He follows suit, running his soft tongue along yours. The air in the room has morphed, it’s saturated with passion and arousal. With just one kiss he’s managed to erase all your fears and worries, your mind is silent and ready for whatever instructions he’s going to give you. When he pulls away your both panting for breath.

He turns his back to you, sliding his dark blue suit jacket down, the white t-shirt underneath clinging with perfection to the muscle and sinew that pack on top of each other along his back. He drapes his jacket over a padded bench about five feet away from you; you know from your extensive research that that’s a spanking bench. He spins to face you, slipping his gold and black ring off his hand, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he drops it in a dish on top of a low chest of drawers on his left. You can’t describe it, but the sound of the gold clashing with the ceramic dish puts you in a trance. Like a ritualistic symbol that you are his now.

His hands slip into his pockets, his voice taking on its deep dominant tone, “We are going to start now. You can stay fully clothed or you can get as undressed as you feel comfortable being. I’m serious here, sweet girl. Leave on as little or as much as you want. When you’re done, lay face up on the bed.”

Without thinking your hands fly back to the zipper on your boots, you unzip them and toe them off. You don’t break eye contact as you grab the hem of your sweater dress and pull it up and over your body. As your vision is temporarily blocked by the knitted fabric you can feel his eyes on your bare skin. You’re left in just a matching nude bra and panty set. He’s already seen your tits so you don’t hesitate to unclasp your bra and let it fall away from your body. 

Joel swallows hard and licks his lips. “Beautiful,” he mumbles appreciatively and it coats your skin in warmth. 

You hesitate for a moment with your thumbs hooked in the waistband of your panties. You know they’re soaked through, and you’re sure he can see that from where he’s standing. He’s so fucking good at reading you, so you’re not surprised when he says, “Only take off what you feel comfortable with, my sweet girl.” 

“I do…I am…I w-want to…I just,” you fiddle with the band a bit. 

“You can say it.” He nods encouragingly.

“I like having them taken off me. I - I want to see your face up close when you…when you see it for the first time.” 

Joel smirks, popping his hip out to lean on the spanking bench. “See what the first time?” 

“Don’t make me say it, Mister Miller.” 

He clicks his tongue at you, “Mmm, but I love hearing that pretty little mouth say dirty words.” You stay silent, chewing your cheek as he continues. “Come on…say it. Say, I want to see your face up close when you see my cunt for the first time, Mister Miller.”

You feel your cheeks flush. Earlier tonight he asked you to look at him when you say it, so you roll your shoulders back and hold your head high. As confidently as possible you say, “I want to see your face up close when..” you take a shaky inhale, “When you see my cunt for the first time, Mister Miller.” 

Before the last syllable has left your lips he’s across the room, lifting you off the ground by the back of your thighs. You instinctively wrap your legs around him and gasp at the sudden pressure right where you’re aching for him. 

“I have memorized every answer from your preferences,” he growls into your collar bone, walking you around the bed. “I have strategically planned what I’m going to teach you and then you say stuff like that and fuck. I have to fight every sick and twisted thought I have, sweet girl.” He climbs onto the bed, laying you down just how he wants you, “You have no idea what you do to me. How out of control you make me feel.” 

Joel shuffles his body down, kissing down your sternum before cupping your tits. Pushing them together and sucking one of your nipples into his hot mouth. This is exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about since that moment in his office. His tongue is warm and soft as it flicks across your hardening nipple. He lightly rolls the other one between his fingers.  

“Please - oh god - please Mister Miller.” You moan needily. You try to arch into him, but his large body holds you down. 

He grazes his teeth along your nipple then looks up at you, “I’m gonna take care of you. Just relax.” 

You can’t take your eyes off him as he dives back in. Sucking and biting at your other nipple. You plant your feet on the mattress, hands tangling into his hair, as you try to grind your aching clit into his warm, hard stomach. 

“Stay still sweetheart,” He says between suckles. 

“I c-can’t. Please.”

He pinches both nipples hard, harder than you’re used to, and you whimper, freezing your hips. His voice is as deep as the obsidian in his gaze, “Stay still. I’m going to make you come. I promise. You need to trust me, relax.” 

The pressure on your nipples eases and you pout before letting yourself melt back into the mattress. He smirks, a dimple carving itself in the patchy scruff of his cheek. “That’s my girl. You like your nipples being played with?” 

The pad of his thumb ghosts over the tops of them, you shiver and moan, “Uh-huh.”

“Good. Then you’re going to enjoy what I have planned tonight.” He kisses your forehead and then climbs off the bed. You rise on your elbows, watching him as he pads across the room to a chest of drawers. He toes off his brown dress shoes and removes his belt before digging through a drawer. The actions were so simple, yet the domesticity of them has you fighting with your little box of feelings again.

No, you tell it silently as it inches out of the darkness. I am his sub and nothing more. The box seems to have grown a very annoying and persistent personality and it almost says, ‘but he’s nervous too’ back at you. 

He turns back to face you, snapping you out of your fight with the imaginary box in your brain. The same vibrator Tommy had is clasped in one hand, his other is palm up, cupping something that he’s shaking much like a gambler does with dice. 

“My sweet girl, you put a five for nipple clamps. Remind me, have you ever used them before?”

“No, Mister Miller.”��

He wanders lazily back over to the bed, and if he was anyone else you’d tell him to hurry up, but you never want to rush a single moment with Joel Miller. On top of that, you need to let him take control; he said he was going to make you come if you just relax and trust him, so that’s exactly what you’re going to do. He places the vibrator on the small table beside the bed and then sits beside you, holding out his free hand to help you sit up. 

He holds the clamps out to you and explains softly, “These are beginner clamps. See this little dial? I can control how tight they are.”

You watch his thick fingers along the dainty metal of the clamps, he’s so soft yet could have you crying with the snap of his fingers if he wanted. A fresh wave of arousal floods between your thighs completely ruining the panties he still hasn’t taken off your body. You nod and whisper, “Ok.”

“You control what happens here tonight. If you tell me that it hurts too much or to stop, I will.”

It’s time to show Joel just how good of a girl you can be, you look at him through your eyelash and sweetly coo, “Yes, Mister Miller.” 

A deep growl rumbles in his chest, “Fuck. Lay down..now.” 

You lay back, hair fanning around you. Joel stays seated on the edge of the bed beside you and lightly places the first clamp on your right nipple. It’s a light pinching pressure and it feels so good that your eyes flutter shut and you melt into the bed. He puts the next clamp on and you whimper. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks, his strong hands gripping your hips, pushing you into the mattress and grounding you in the warm pleasure that floods your stiff nipples.  

“S-so good Mister Miller,” you groan. You’re almost convinced this is another dream, he’s doing almost exactly what you have imagined countless times. You open your eyes to watch him, determined to visually take in every single thing he gives you. 

“Good, baby. I want you to feel good. I’m gonna tighten them now, jus’ a little.” He twists the little knob. You start breathing heavily, teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You bring your hands to his strong, warm forearms as you suck in air.

“Too much?”

Your chest heaves at the delicious feeling flooding your tits. “No, no. More. P-Please, more. More.”

“Good girl,” he hums deeply, the words settling right behind your clit as he tightens the tiny clamps more. The warmth around your nipples spreads to your arms and down your sides. When you cry out he asks, “Pain or pleasure, sweet girl?”

At this point you aren’t sure, it definitely hurts, but it also feels good, and his deep brown eyes are looking at you the same way they always do, full of concern and care, almost like he’s assessing you. 

“Both. Both, oh fuck. More, Mister Miller.” He kisses the left one gently and you arch into him, “More, more, please.”

“That’s as tight as they go, are you sure you want more?”

You keep your eyes on him, nodding fervently, “Yes. Please, yes.”

He pops them off and you gasp out in pain, heat rushes to both your nipples and it burns in white hot passion. Joel blows cool air along both of them and you can’t seem to stop your mumbling begging, “More. I need more. Please!”

“I know, baby. I got you.” He opens the drawer on the bedside table and takes out two gold plated clamps. You look down, your nipples already look sore, tinged slightly purple. “I’m so fucking proud of you already. Askin’ so nicely like the good girl I know you are. Goddamn, look at these stiff, perky, perfect little nipples. I love seeing you like this, seeing them like this. Are you wet for me? Are those flimsy lace panties soaked through?”

He places one of the new clamps and you cry out a ‘yes’. 

“Ya? Just dripping and desperate for me?” He puts the other clamp on as you chant a chorus of yes’s and oh god’s. 

Joel

Joel knew that tonight would either make or break him. As his name spills sweetly from your perfect pouty lips he feels it, the same tug behind his belly button that he felt with Tiffany, that his grandpa said was how he’d know when he found something special; something to hold onto. 

“Please, Mister Miller,” you murmur. He doesn’t know what it is you’re asking for, and he’s sure you don’t know either. What is it about you saying those three little words that gets him so rattled? Countless subs have called him that in the past and it never made his cock swell this painfully behind his zipper.

He taps at your nipples lightly and watches your body shudder and arch off the bed. You aren’t even fully naked and he’s fighting the urge to come right there in his pants. He loves the way your body reacts, he can already tell you’re going to look stunning as you come. 

“That feel good?” He asks, his voice deep and husky. 

“Yes. Oh god, yes!” You haven’t taken your eyes off him and he loves how your eyelids have become hooded from the pleasure while your brows furrow with the pain.

“Does it hurt?” Your cheeks are flushed pink making the colour of your eyes pop.

“Yes,” just as he’s convincing himself to remove the clamps you moan, “Please don’t stop.” 

Joel grabs the vibrator from the bedside table before sliding his body down the bed. He starts kissing at your hip bone before wrapping his teeth around the slender band of your panties. Your eyes dart down to him, this is what you asked for; to his face the first time he sees your cunt. He pulls your panties with his teeth, smiling against your soft upper thigh when you instinctively lift your hips to help him. As he shimmies down the bed his eyes stay on your face.

He gets to the end of the bed, standing with your soaked through thong still between his teeth. He relaxes his jaw, dropping the panties in his hand and bringing them to his face. “God fuckin’ damn, sweet girl. You smell so fuckin’ sweet. Imma crave that smell when you aren’t around.” He tucks your panties into the pocket of his four thousand dollar, custom made Tom Ford suit. As far as he’s concerned, that drenched thong is the most expensive and important thing he now owns. 

He trails his eyes down your sternum, your legs are straight out in front of you, not parted, but he can see your puffy pink clit pushing through the soft looking outer lips. He feels himself switching into full dom mode. The room around him fades away, everything outside of you and this room doesn’t matter anymore.

“Show me,” he growls. “Spread those gorgeous legs and show me that perfect little cunt.”

He crawls up the bed, following the path you make as you bend both knees up. He feels like a starved dog who’s about to get a meal. Your feet stop, and as he hovers above you, gaze wholly fixated on your core, you relax your legs and your knees butterfly open. God he loves how eager you are, how good of a listener you can be. He licks his lips as your outer thighs finally meet the soft sheets, baring yourself for him completely. He stops breathing as your lips part, sticky with arousal. Your pussy is swollen and glistening, your needy clit puffy and pink. 

A deep moan rumbles in his chest as he lowers himself to the be, his face between your legs. Once he’s close enough he can see the tight little hole he’s vowed not to fuck. “Shit, sweetheart. This is goin’ to be so much harder than I thought.”

Your cries wash over him; he’s experienced enough to know that it’s from your nipples hardening under the clamps at his words. He smirks up at you, “How are you so wet already?”

“You, Mister Miller.”

“That right? Me playin’ with those nipples get you all turned on?”

“Uh-huh, and you said I couldn’t touch myself. I’ve been like this for days.” Your bottom lip pokes out and it absolutely ruins him, but he pushes down the overwhelming need to fix it and give you exactly what you need. No, you want to experience being a submissive, and that’s what he’s going to do. 

“Poor baby,” he mocks, tsking at you. He kisses right above your clit and you gasp. He’s close enough to know the heat of his breath is going to have you squirming and he can’t wait to watch how beautiful you’ll look doing it. “So wet. Smells so good. Fuck, She’s right in front of me but I already miss her. You look so soft and tight. Goddamn, you’re gonna have me breakin’ all my rules, sweet girl.”

“Please touch me. Please.”

“Mmmm, such a good girl for asking so nicely. I can’t say no when you beg like that, baby, makes me weak.” He kisses the crook of your inner thigh, he knows how much he’s teasing you right now, he watches you get wetter by the second, the beautiful folds of your pussy opening like a flower in the sun for him and flushing a deeper pink and the blood courses to your most sensitive parts.  

“I need you Mister Miller,” your voice waivers as you say his name, and you blink a little harder, he knows you’re fighting back the tears and it makes his cock throb harder, the teeth of his zipper practically digging into him.

After what feels like hours, he finally brings a thick finger to tease at your entrance. You buck into him, desperate for the friction.  

“Don’t make me tie you up. Stay still for me, please.” Even with the please at the end, it’s a command - deep and serious, and you don’t dare test him. Your nipples stiffen every time he speaks, and they ache under the clamps, it’s the perfect twinge of pain to heighten the bits of pleasure he’s giving you. 

You press your lips in a tight line, hands grounding you as they ball the sheets, focusing on keeping still. You want to shamelessly fuck yourself with his fingers; meanwhile, he’s being slow and calculated. Joel torturously draws slow little circles along the waiting hole with just the tip of his finger. He watches as your sticky white arousal coats his fingertip, then groans as he slowly pushes his middle finger all the way inside of you. You gasp at the welcome stretch and fight like hell to stay still.

“Look at you, fuck. So warm and inviting.” He slips his finger out slowly and lets out an exasperated sigh. Your heart falls into your stomach.

“Mister Miller, no. Please, it felt so good,” you practically cry at the loss at the feeling of him finally inside of you, finally giving you a taste of what you need the most.

“I know,” he shushes, “But that’s not what I have planned, not yet at least. My sweet girl, I need ya to be loud for me. I’ve been wanting this for so long. Need to hear you. Understand?”

The distinct sound of the vibrator you forgot he had comes to life and you squirm with anticipation. “Yes, Mister Miller. I will, just please, please make me feel good.” 

He reaches up, the black vibrator makes contact with your nipple and an intense pain shoots to your core before it blooms into pleasure. One of your hands leaves the sheets, fingernails digging into the forearms of the hand he has holding the vibrator and you sob out. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he groans before moving the vibrator to the other nipple, circling it around this time instead of holding it flush. “Jus’ tell me if you need me to stop.”

“Don’t, please don’t. Oh god, yes.” You know you’re screaming, you doubt anyone can hear you, but at this point you don’t care if they can. The pleasure becomes overwhelming, you slam your eyes shut and arch your back. Joel’s strong chest is warm in between your thighs, he’s so broad that he’s keeping you spread open. You grind into the soft white cotton of his t-shirt.

“Look at me. Focus, sweet girl,” you peel your eyes open to meet his gaze. Warm coffee and hazel eyes stare down at you. “Stay still, please.”

“I can’t - aah!” He presses hard on your sore nipple and it brings you back into your own body. You manage to still your hips and release your grip, leaving behind little crescent shaped indents in his muscle lined forearm.

“Good girl,” he praises and then pulls the vibrator away from your breasts. His free hand comes to your mound, he swallows hard before breaking eye contact, pulling his hand back and looking at your puffy, and completely exposed bundle of nerves. A devious uptick of the right side of the mouth sets your blood on fire before he taps lightly at your clit once with the soft head of vibrator.

You cry out in pleasure. 

He taps again and you gasp out loudly.

He taps a third time and you’re almost certain that this is how you’re going to die. No man has ever teased you like this. You’re desperate to come, your body breaking out in sweat, but you never want Joel to stop. Moans and whines are pouring out of you without you even realizing it, he looks so fucking beautiful between your thighs, staring at your pussy like it’s the sunrise over the ocean, like he’s never seen anything as beautiful or fascinating and it makes your feel unstoppable. You make him look like that. Him. A man who could have anyone in the world, but here he is, looking at you like you’re his whole world.

“Let me hear you, show me how you can be a good girl,” he clicks the vibrator up and holds it tightly to your clit. The sensation is almost too much and your nipples ache under the little gold clamps.

Your body starts to shake involuntarily and your moans become longer and huskier, you’re going to come any second now. You squeeze your eyes shut and Joel pulls the vibrator away.

“No,” you gasp. “More. Please, I need more. Please.” The fear of him leaving you like this has the back of your eyes burning. Was there a time limit you weren’t aware of with the room? No, this is his private room. Right? Didn’t he say that he has a private room? And it shouldn’t matter if the club is open or closed, he’s the owner.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” You blink your eyes open, trying to focus on his face, but you’re so turned on that the edges of him seem fuzzy. “That feel good? The vibrator teasing your desperately swollen clit?”

You nod your head, “Yes, again. Please, Mister Miller.”

“Tell me what you want?”

Historically, situations like this have riddled you with insecurity. You’ve never been a talker in the bedroom and as a textbook people pleaser you never, like NEVER, ask for what you want. Yes, being here fully naked with a fully clothed Joel makes you feel safer and more understood than you have ever been. You know that if you ask for anything in this room and beyond, he’d do it. 

The words leave your mouth without you even thinking about it, without second guessing or carefully planning what it is you’re going to say. “Please make me come. I’ll be so loud for you. I’ll scream and moan until I have no voice. I’ve been such a good girl and I’ll do whatever you want. Just please, please make me come.”

He raises an eyebrow at you and his voice washes over you like honey, “Good fuckin’ girl. Eyes on me and hold on.”

It happens in an instant, the vibrator flicks to the highest setting as he adjusts his body to hold you firmly against the mattress with this forearm, your hands grab onto his shoulders as he presses the soft, thick head of the sex toy right onto your clit. 

You scream and squeeze at the strong muscles of his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your system, you tense under his touch. The build of your orgasm somehow too much and not enough all at once.

“Oh god. Oh god. Yes, I’m - Mist - fuuuck.”

“I know, I’m right here.” He says darkly.

“Gonna come,” you sputter between your cries of ecstasy. You can feel that familiar tightness building.

“Relax and let go for me. Come for me, sweet girl. Let me see this beautiful little cunt twitch.”

His words send you over the edge and your orgasm rocks through you violently. You convulse with so much force that Joel grunts as he holds you down. You’re nothing but what Joel is giving you, not a single thought or insecurity, not a single worry about studying or school, you’re just what Joel has made you and it feels fucking fantastic. His dark onyx eyes swallow you whole. 

The pleasure of your orgasm, mixed with the pain in your nipples is so much more than you’ve ever known, and Joel’s deep gravel filled voice praises you the whole time.

‘There’s my girl.’

‘Sooo good for me.’

‘Fuck, that’s it my sweet girl.’ 

‘Beautiful when you scream for me.’

It starts to become too much. Your throat is hoarse from screaming. As your nails start to dig deep into his shoulders Joel slows the vibrator down and holds it lightly to your twitching clit as the aftershocks course through you. He releases your body from his and kisses your hip bone before shutting the vibrator off completely. 

He’s stills between your thighs, your hands resting on his shoulders. Joel smiles up at you sweetly and you pull at his t shirt to encourage him to crawl on top of you. He doesn’t hesitate, bringing his stong body on top of yours, resting his forearms on each side of your head. 

“Do I have your consent to kiss you?” He whispers.

“Yes,” you coo. His mouth meets yours similar to how it did when you both confessed to being nervous. It’s soft and lingering as you take shaky, calming breaths through your nose. That annoying little box of feelings shivers in the corner of your mind and you mentally put a piece of packing tape over the lid. 

You end this kiss this time, pushing your head into the pillow. “I’m gonna grab some cooling spray and take those clamps off now, is that okay?”

You nod and hum in agreement. Your eyelids and muscles feel heavy and sated. Joel's warm body parts from yours and a chill runs up your spine. When he releases the first clamp you whimper, the burning ache goes away as soon as he sprays it with a cooling coconut scented mist. When he removes the second one, your pussy clenches around nothing, a small but powerful orgasm waves through you as the cool droplets of the aftercare spray land on your pebbled breast.

“Did you just come?” Joel questions proudly.

Your hands cover your face as you blush harder than you have in years, “Yeah.”

Joel’s warmth encompasses you again as he climbs back on top of you, he gently pulls your hands away by your wrists. “Fuck, baby. I think I’m addicted to you.” He kisses the tip of your nose, “Such a good girl.”

You shiver underneath him and he rolls the two of you so he can wrap the blanket around you, your head rests on his chest, your body half on him and half on the soft bed. He holds you tightly, his meaty hands rubbing any place they can over the fluffy down filled cocoon he’s got you in. 

A comfortable silence falls around the two of you, your breaths in sync with one another. Your eyelids flutter closed, and that little voice starts to come back, lacing you with insecurity. You don’t want to ask, but you have to. You clear your throat quietly and ask, “Are you seeing any other subs?”

“No,” he replies softly, his lips brushing the top of your head. “But I haven’t told all of them yet. The dom/sub relationship is a delicate one. I can’t exactly just message them on the app that it’s over.”

You settle deeper into him. “What else do you have planned for us?”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “I’m going to show you everything you want to know.”

A fire burns in your stomach, “When?”

Joel lets out a small laugh, then tilts your chin up, pulling back a little so he can look at you. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re eager. I have to go out of town tomorrow, but we’ll make sure to find time when I’m back this weekend.”

Him leaving is a bit of a blessing in disguise for you. “I take the LSAT again on Friday, so I guess this gives me lots of study time.”

He cranes his neck to sponge his lips to yours, the scruff of his mustache tickles a little and you giggle into his kiss. “How long have you owned the club?”

“Almost five years,” he replies.

You let an impressed hum, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds are your mixed breathing and his calloused hand along the blanket. You remember all the times tonight that he called you ‘my sweet girl’ and you wonder if he’s feeling the same way you are, or if he’s so used to all of this that it’s just second nature to him. The packing tape on that fucking box starts to peels as if to say ‘he was nervous too and it’s only you’.

After a while Joel breaks the silence. “Becoming a lawyer is a pretty intense process. Your family must be really proud of you.”

“Umm, well, I actually don’t really know,” you say.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Joel says lightly and you know he means it. You know he would never push you to give him something you didn’t want to, he might push your sexual limits, but never your personal ones, and for whatever reason that almost makes it easier to tell him.

You roll onto your stomach and prop yourself up on your forearms on his chest. For a second you let your eyes look around the room. You were so focused on Joel earlier that you didn’t notice the rings and hooks along the black steel bed frame; or the paddles and ropes hanging on the wall next to a ladder and St Andrews Cross. In classic Joel fashion, everything is black and softly lit. Everything but the bed sheets which are plush and white. 

You take a deep breath, resting your chin on your hands, and start, “I don’t want pity for this, truthfully I’m grateful that this is my reality, but my parents had me when they were very young and they were both very selfish when I was growing up. Never abusive or anything, and not neglectful in a physical way, but emotionally I was left alone a lot. I realized early on that if I excelled in something they would show up, and for a long time that felt really fucking good. But as soon as I hit high school I realized they were showing up for themselves. They’d brag about me to other adults, but not actually congratulate me. They’d show up to honour roll ceremonies, but not with me or for me, it was so they could say I was their daughter. They didn’t help me get those grades, I did that on my own. And I’m still doing that on my own.”

Joel’s eyes soften, those two permanent lines between his eyebrows disappearing. “That explains so much, my sweet girl. I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

The tape on the box of feelings snaps as the lid flies off. Not now, you scold.

“I know, but honestly, I don’t really need anyone to take care of me. I’ve made it this far and I plan on making it the rest of the way the only way I know how.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” He asks.

“Doesn’t this?” you say gently, gesturing to the room.

“No,” he blinks at you a few times. “I was in my early twenties when my wife died. I needed to focus on raising Sarah, but I’m still an adult male with needs, so I found the world of BDSM and kink. It allowed me to get what I wanted, and what my partner wanted, without the attachment of a relationship.” His words are so real and honest and in just those few sentences you feel like you know Joel Miller more deeply than you know anyone else.

“My way doesn’t get lonely either,” you say with a smile, tucking your head back into his chest.

Joel

Your breathing is calm and heavy, it kills him that he’s going to have to wake you up. Usually his aftercare doesn’t involve opening up about his past like this. He’s not a monster, but he is very strict about keeping his kink life and his real life separate. Something about you though has him opening up about Tiffany and Sarah.

“Baby,” he whispers into the crown of your head, shaking you a little. “We can’t sleep here, I’m sorry.”

You blink up at him and his heart ceases at how beautiful you look all sleepy and supple. He finds himself unconsciously memorizing the little details of your face. Your lips are puffy from his kisses and you have a little mascara smudge under your eye. He thumbs the black make up away gently and says, “Let me help you get dressed and then Cap will take you home, ok?”

You nod lazily and he helps you gently roll off him. He stands and starts to gather your clothing. After a few minutes of looking around he huffs, “Where are your panties?”

A tiny giggle sounds from the cloud of white blankets, the sound shooting straight through his belly button, “Check your pockets.”

He laughs at himself, reaching into his pants pocket to pull out your lacy nude thong. He helps you sit up, “I’m keeping these, by the way.”

“Should I be expecting my panties to go missing every time?” You say jokingly as you take your bra from him and put it on. 

He nods and asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Good, really good actually,” After you put your bra on he pulls your dress over your head and then kneels to help you with your boots. “I - umm - I was hoping that this would help turn my brain off for a while and it did. I feel, I don’t know. Recharged almost?”

This is exactly why he loves kink, it’s an escape from the world for him and his sub. He kisses your knee and moves to the other boot. “Good, that’s what is supposed to happen.”

He pulls you to your feet and allows you to steady yourself before pulling you in for a hug. “Thank you for tonight,” he whispers. He hopes you know that he needs this as much as you do, how much this helps him clear his mind and reground himself.

After closing the door to the town car and sending you home he goes back into the club, waving for a whiskey and joining Tommy at the bar top.

“She was pretty,” Tommy says, clinking his glass against Joel’s.

“Yep,” he swirls the amber liquid in the cup.

“New?” Tommy asks.

“Yep,” Joel repeats and then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I think I’m fucked, Tommy.”

Tommy puts his glass down and turns to face Joel, gripping his shoulder. “Are you ending it with all your other subs for this girl?”

Joel takes a long sip from his crystal highball glass. Repeating the only word he seems to know lately, “Yep.”

Tommy lets out a breath, “Shit. Ya, you’re definitely fucked.”

“Tiff told me to find someone who scares me. This fucking scares me, man.” Joel finishes off his whiskey, and even though there’s a drink limit, the glass is refilled before it’s even hit the table. “This is - I just - I ain’t felt like this in a long time.”

Tommy smiles at Joel, “I’m happy for ya, man. And look, as long as you aren’t keepin’ her panties then it’s probably not as bad as you think.” 

Joel pulls that nude thong from his pocket and puts it on the bar top as he finishes off his second glass of whiskey and then waves the bartender off, silently signaling that he’s done. 

“Shit, so you are fucked then?” Tommy laughs. 

“We didn’t,” Joel says defensively, brows pulling together.  

“I didn’t ask if you fucked. I said you are fucked.” Tommy shakes his head at his older brother. 

Joel runs a hand down his face and through his scruff. “Look, you gonna be ok this week while I’m in Paris?”

“Ya, me and Tess got it.” He claps Joel’s back roughly as he stands. “Safe travels, hey?”

Joel nods and waves over his head at his brother. He hasn’t fucked you or let you suck his cock yet and he’s already feeling all turned around. But god, the way your body twitched in response to him, the way you melt into his arms every time he kisses you. How brave and confident you were after overcoming the shyness of asking for what you want. He can’t wait to teach you more, but he’s going to have to find a way to not let whatever feelings he might be having get in the way. 

Next chapter

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: angst, yearning, humor, fluff, journalist!reader, established relationship

word count: 13.2k

There’s a lot of things you’d like to do differently in life. And the weeks leading up to that night is one of them.

inspired by this, this, and this !

cherry here!… hello there. sooo this was supposed to go up a few days ago, but silly me scheduled the wrong date, haha, so this is me formally apologizing for that. on a more lighter note: i’m so excited for you guys to read this one considering this is the re-written version of ‘method acting’ if you guys even remember the original version. love u all very much, and enjoyyy :)

From his boyish smile, to his dominant smirk—you knew it all. 

The way it would slowly start to spread, but always ended with a dimple. You loved many things in life—many, many things—but nothing comes close to him. From the very start, he’s been gentle. A gentle giant, you’d sometimes joke with a teasing voice, to which he’d roll his eyes yet never deny. 

The way he’d start every sentence with—honey—and end with—I love you. The way he’d cradle your face between his hands, kissing the corner of your mouth first before pressing down completely. The way he’d translate for you with all the patience in the world. Everything about him had been so easy to learn, so easy to love.

But here, in a room, staring at each other, you begin to wonder if you ever knew him at all. Because suddenly you don’t know what the frown on his face means. What the furrowed brows with the pinched expression interpret to. You don’t know any of it. 

Why are you so surprised, though?

You caused this, anyways.

-

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you don’t know how to use a USB, Lis. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know—tech savvy?” 

Lissie aims a harsh glare before tapping her nail against the computer screen as if that might make the process a whole lot quicker. “So what? I lied on my resume. Everybody does it.”

You chuckle. “Who even uses USB’s nowadays?”

“Apparently Grandpa Will. Oh, yay, it's done!” She shimmies. “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” With that, she zips down the paddock without a second glance. You sigh, gathering your stuff and making your way down the busy crowd, heading straight towards Ferrari Hospitality. 

He’s on his computer when you first walk in, keys clicking. He nibbles on his bottom lip, knits his dark brows like he’s in pain. As soon as you tap your finger against the wall, he perks up, all his interest suddenly gone. He grins. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Lis,” you respond, claiming a seat next to him. 

The Monegasque hums, leaning in to kiss your lips swiftly. “Thank you, Elisabella.” You giggle, sneaking a quick peek at his open screen. “Whatcha’ workin’ on? Wait—let me guess. You’re getting your marriage license annulled?”

“To be with you, yes,” he agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “How do you think Joris is going to take it?”

A playful shrug. “He’s just going to have to accept it, no?”

“I suppose.” Snapping the computer shut, he fixes himself, head pressed softly against your lap, closing his eyes. The sight of his even breaths and curved nose makes you smile as you start threading your fingers through his hair. He sighs, tense shoulders instantly rolling back. “Journling, and whatnot. It’s a habit that has a near expiration date, for sure, but is quite nice as of now.”

And though he can’t see you, your neat brows raise up in surprise. “Journaling on an electronic device? Why not an actual journal? You know—something authentic. I actually know of a place back in Portland where they sell some cute ones, ver—”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for security.” A beat. “I’d lose it in a week, and we don’t want that happening, now do we? My laptop works just fine. Plus, I feel more at peace knowing it’s not something I will just leave behind.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you declare, enjoying the way his lips twist with a childlike snarl. “Anyways, I’m glad you’ve picked up on a new hobby. It’s good for you, Charlie.”

“Learned from the best.” You blush. “By the way, media shouldn’t last longer than an hour? Wanna go out?”

“Aren’t you tired?” you question, forcing his eyelids open as he squirms, pushing your hand away.

“A little. But I still want to do something with you.”

A tired sigh. “Cute, but I can’t. Lissie and William are out for today, so it’s just me, which means I have to conduct all the interviews by myself.”

The brunette bats an eye. “Why?”

“She forgot she had a deadline—hence why I was busy helping her—and Will still has to look it over. They have to send it in by midnight and it’s—it’s a lot.”

“Why couldn’t she just email it?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you screech, causing him to flinch and squeeze his eyes. Sheepishly, you pat his head. “He insisted on a USB. Says he wants all work done like the olden days.”

“That sucks,” he mumbles. “And who even uses USB’s nowadays? They’re so outdated.”

“That’s what I’m—” You stop, mid-sentence, lowering your voice when he sits up and scoots away. “Saying,” you finish, whispering. You purse your lips, sending a slight grimace. “You get it.”

Charles nods, standing up and placing his laptop into his duffel bag. “I’ll come back and pick you up, yeah? Meanwhile, I can maybe cook something for us.”

“Honey,” you coo. “I love you, but please don’t.” His face drops. What the fuck? You giggle. “How about take-out?”

“How about,” he mutters, stiff as a statue when you press your lips down onto his jaw, but quickly melts. “Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” Another peck. “I’ll call you!”

-

If you remember—and you do remember—you fell in love with writing ever since you watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a reset for you because before that you had seriously considered going to law. At first, you started with column writing in your school's newspaper. No one ever read it, you’d always find it on the floor after being trampled on, but you never cared. 

Soon after, you started publishing smaller pieces here and there on your fashion blog that has since been taken down, but that was the moment you knew. Thing was, you wanted to nurture this into a career, you really did, but nothing to do with fashion, rather sports. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that every Sunday your Grandpa would beg for you to come over to his house and watch the races with him. They were extremely boring at first. Who willingly drives for roughly two hours in loops? Then, it clicked. Everything changed and you were enthralled. 

After that, all you knew was that you wanted it bad. It was hard, studying over time in order to get done quickly and just start working, but it was well worth it. You met Lis the same year she started working with Formula One, so you both figured a lot of things out together, and for two years, it was just you and her, interviewing and writing about the drivers on the grid.

But he noticed you both years ago.

He first noticed the burn on the back of your left leg. He initially thought it was a band-aid by the way it healed, but later found out you had burned yourself with a curling iron back in highschool when you were rushing to get your senior pictures taken. Then he noticed your eyes and the way they always had a glimmer to them, even if something wasn't going your way. He respected the hell out of you after that.

 How do you do that? 

You freeze. Do what?

Stay so…so—optimistic. Happy, I suppose.

You laughed then, and he saw the way your hair fell over your shoulder like a silk curtain. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so stuck up on that. It’s all a facade. They way you see me—it’s not real.

Believe me, I don’t think you’re real.

You blush, looking back down at your journal where you’ve been too busy scribbling prior to his question. You just have to ignore them sometimes, you know? Remind yourself that they don’t know you and you don’t know them. Trust me, it helps.

And after that, you two never stopped talking. 

Whether it was about work, or perhaps even the weather, you two always had something going on. Something everyone noticed, but never brought up. And at one point, you confessed your next dream.

Journalist of the Year, he repeated, a goofy smile slowly itching his skin. Yeah, I can see that.

It’s not that easy, though, you retort, exhaling heavily. I mean, I’ve been doing this for quite a while now and I haven’t even been considered once, which is fine, maybe I’m not good enough, but maybe it’s also time to…I don’t know—give up?

He kept quiet, kept his eyes focused on you, and frowned. If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have. 

Pft, you scoff. Nah. Not this. It’s nearly unattainable for someone like me. Even Lissie has won, and we’ve been here for the same amount of years. Now I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, but that just comes to show that there’s always someone better. And I’m just here. You look up. It’s okay, you can laugh.

A beat. I could be a hypocrite to tell you that it’s not good to measure how talented you are or how talented you can be based on some award, but Jesus Chrsit, I do the same thing. I understand. And it’s because I understand that I’m telling you to keep working hard and prove yourself to them. You have it in you—I’ve known ever since we met. You smile. Your time will come, yeah?

And for the first time: you believed it. 

A nod. Thanks, Charles. Yours will too.

About a month later, you two started officially dating. It almost seemed too good to be true at times, but wherever he looked for you in the crowd, you knew it just had to be. 

But the start of your relationship was also the end of something else.

Interviews and articles? 

He nods. Right. None of that.

You follow his actions, nodding numbly as you blink. So, no more working together? Because you want me to have a fair shot?

Yes, he confirmed. I just don’t want you to be nominated—because it’s only a matter of time, I have a feeling—and feel as if they picked you simply because of your dating status. 

Who’s going to do all of that, then? 

There’s plenty of other reporters. Lissie? Will? Maybe even Natalie. He took a step closer, grabbing your hands gently. What I’m trying to say is that I want you to feel accomplished. That what you did was simply because of your work, and not having to do with your connections because trust me, that doesn’t feel good.

But I love working with you. You give his hand a squeeze, tilting your head and smiling sadly. You’re my favorite person to write about and talk to…

And he genuinely seemed to be pained by your words, wincing.

But you suck it up because you know he’s right. I’ll always be your favorite?

Only the best.

A hum. Alright then. You take a step back, extending your hand for a professional handshake. He smiles, taking it and giving it a good tug.

 It was nice working with you, Mr. Leclerc.

-

“I’ll never understand,” Lissie starts, pressing the elevator button for the twenty-fifth floor and chewing on a licorice. “Why you two ever create such a stupid rule like that?” A hard chew. “All I’m saying is that it could have definitely helped you out a whole lot. You probably would have won by now.”

You roll your eyes, but not without thinking how she might be right. You’ve definitely wondered about a world in which you two hadn’t taken this approach, and while it would have been nice, you also know that it would have felt a little less special knowing that being a nepo to Charles had something to do with it. Which is most likely what would have happened, let’s be completely honest here. 

“You came to this arrangement, what? Twenty years ago, maybe fourty? And it’s not to be rude, but you haven't been nominated, so was this really worth it if it hasn’t made much of a difference?”

“Okay,” you grunt, ripping the red candy away from her and throwing it into the nearby trash as soon as you step out of the elevator. She pouts, following along. “I think we get it, I fucked up, very funny.”

“No,” she hums. “I never said you did, I was simply thinking, that's all.” You scoff. “But whatever. I have a feeling this is it. You definitely have it in the bag. They’d be crazy not to add you for a fourth time!”

Spinning, you smile bitterly at the Brit girl. She gulps. “Thank you, Lis, your mild support is very much appreciated.”

You turn back around, walking faster.

“Sheesh, sorry,” she hisses, entering the familiar office with a lost expression.

Carly, your manager runs over, practically jumping onto you and hugging you tight. “Lis, close the door!” You groan at the loud sound against your ear, but she's none the wiser, already embracing you harder. “You did it!”

“I told you!” Lissie shoots smugly.

You freeze, heart racing. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying—”

“Why would she be lying?”

Letting go, Carly lets out a delirious laugh. “Everything—all of it—has finally paid off. You did it, you’re on the list!”

“Holy shit,” you whisper in disbelief, playing with your necklace as you pace the spacious office. Lissie and Carly both grin at each other from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically. You come to a halt. “Are you making this up because I said I would kill myself if I didn’t make it this year because, for your information, I was totally kidding!”

“It’s not a joke,” the redhead squeals, jumping again. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I am too!” Lissie shrieks, running and kissing you face as you try your best to swat her away even though you’re laughing. “Even after what I said in the elevator, I knew this shit was the real deal this time! Didn’t I tell you? Carly, I told her.” She twirls you, making you grin harder.  “You won!”

“Okay, let's touch some grass, ladies,” Carly cuts in. “We can’t forget that this is just a nomination and that there’s still work that needs to be done in order to secure our best chances.”

“Right,” you respond, elegantly fixing yourself and nodding up and down. You freeze. “Wait, what work? I thought this was it?”

Carly shakes her head. “Oh honey, we’re just getting started.” A pause. “You have to write an article.”

“I am—confused. What do you mean by article?”

The Brit takes a seat in a nearby chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s their one and only requirement. Show them why they should pick you.”

Carly nods, red hair bouncing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. You’re as talented as they come. Just do what you do, but…better!”

Color drains your face as you go back to pacing. “What do you mean better? This is all I got! There’s nothing left to show, oh God—”

“What are you talking about?” your manager yelps. “There’s always more!”

“Exactly,” Lissie hums, somehow munching on another piece of candy. “There’s always—that, yeah. More.”

Your eye twitches. “Okay, you already went through this and won. How did you do it?”

She pouts, tapping the licorice against her lips before clicking her fingers. “I wrote my piece on fashion and how it’s made its way into Formula One. Wasn’t even that hard. Well. Shouldn't be. Write what you know and it’ll come to ya, they say. Or maybe they don’t, but definitely still do that.”

Your shoulders drop, plopping down next to her and placing a pillow over your face. “Fuck. That’s genius.” It is, isn’t it? she mumbles, slowly chewing in deep thought. Screaming into the pillow, you feel the frustration you didn’t have a second ago finally erupt. “What am I going to do?”

“Sweetheart,” Carly starts, forearms pressed against her glass desk, and stern eyes trained onto you. “You have got to be one of the most raw writers I have ever worked with.” A beat. “Sorry, Lis.” 

“Screw you,” she snarls, focusing on her phone now. 

Your manager sighs, rubbing her temples. “And please take that as a compliment because it is. You don’t hold back, and you tell it how it is. That’s what makes you one of the best! And if it weren’t for you wanting this, I would have definitely sent an angry email on your behalf because you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Wow,” the Brit muttered, raising her dark brows. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cringing. “But you’ve won already, Lis, and we supported you, and now…” She faces you again with soft eyes. “We’re doing this for you. You got it, m’kay?”

“But—” your voice cuts off as you blink rapidly, losing focus with the thought of failing, imprinting itself into the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know what to write about, which is weird because I always have an idea, at least. That’s simply a bad sign, that much I know.”

“It’s only bad if you think it is,” Lissie says, clicking her phone off and smiling gently. “But in all honesty, I think it’s actually quite good. That means you know what's at stake, and you know you have to make this the best goddamn article in your entire life.” A beat. “Write what you know, I’m telling you.”

“What she said,” Carly squeaks cheerfully, eyes crinkling as she starts pouring champagne and handing them one by one. “But just so you know, we have to get this in by October thirteenth because they make their decision by the sixteenth.”

“But that’s Charles’ birthday week,” you wail, rubbing your eyes harshly. “Fucking hell—”

“He’ll understand,” Lissie cuts you off, clicking her glass against Carly’s who shrugs, sipping neatly. “All of us know he will.”

“Okay then,” you whisper slowly. You curl your hand tighter against the glass. “Cheers?”

“Cheers, mate!”

-

Entering his Monaco flat, Charles lets out a tired sigh, taking his shoes off and flinging his keys to the nearby coffee table. The loud thud makes him flinch before running over hurriedly. A large scratch lays across the rich wood as he panics, kneeling down to inspect it carefully.

“Are you serious, Charlie?” he hears over his shoulder, jumping to find you with a frown on your lips and hands on your hips. “That was a gift!”

“I’m sorry!” he squeaks. “From your Grandpa, I know, I’m sorry!”

You let out a breath, shrugging. “It’s fine. How was your day?”

He eyes you suspiciously once before getting closer to you and kissing you hello. “Eh. Decent. Yours?”

Plump lips twist before flattening back out. “Decent.”

He squints, noticing the way you play with your necklace. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you answer quickly. Defensively.

His brows furrow deeper. “Blow me.”

“Blow you?”

“Yes. Right here, right now—blow me.” He demonstrates, letting out a breath as if taking a breathalyzer test. 

You let out a sore laugh, rolling your heels as you stumble back. What? Your laughing stops, though tears run down your face as you try to get your words out. “You mean breathe out, not blow you.” Your giggles pick up once again, making him blush deep red. “God, you need to learn a bit more proper english.”

He looks away, cringing at the sound of his voice replaying, and then turning with a stoic face. “Don’t change the subject.” A pause. “Breathe out.”

You freeze. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.” “I’m not going to do it.”

“Just do it,” he presses harder.

You glare. “No. I’m not.”

Taking one last glance, he leaps forward with zero warning and starts tickling you, making your squeal. Stop! “Breathe!” I am breathing, you twat! “Blow me—God damn it! Whatever! Blow! Breathe! Blow!” 

“Fine, fine, just stop!” you screech, giggles coming to an end as he nods and stares down at you, which by now, you’re laid down on the couch with him towering over. You blush, breathing out lightly, nearly nothing. He rolls his eyes. Blow me harder. “Blow me harder,” you mimic, copying his accent. 

He groans. “You get what I’m saying—”

“I don’t, though,” you joke, laughing harder. As soon as your eyes shut, he smiles down at you affectionately, but when they open again, he reverts his lips back into a straight line. Your lips wobble playfully. Letting out a big breath, he whiffs strongly. “Gross, Cha!”

“You smell like strawberry sorbet, relax.” A beat. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

“Okay, this is getting really kinky.”

He aims for a deadpan expression. 

Rolling your eyes, you do as you're told and he lets out a scream. “What the fuck!”

“It’s red!”

“No duh, Charles!”

“Strawberry sorbet. The last pint. You ate it all, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So that's a yes.”

You frown.

“And we always share, but when we don’t it’s because you’re going through something and you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, we get it,” you grunt, pushing him off as you sit up. He does the same, staring at you, concerned. “By the way, does that upset you?”

“The ice cream? Nah.”

You nod, then yawn. “Why do you have to be so attentive?”

“Because I love you.”

You smile. “I made it onto the list.”

“The list?”

“The list.”

A wide grin dances across his pink lips as he jumps onto the coach, up and down, making you bounce and stare up with a soft look. “The list! Thee list. Holy crap, congratulations, honey!” Landing on the ground, he hugs you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it over and over. “You smell nice—congrats—is that citrus—wait, this smells really nice—”

“It is citrus,” you giggle as he separates from you. “And thanks. It means the most coming from you.”

Silence takes over for a second or two before his brows knit neatly. “What’s wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” They raise up higher. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared.”

Tugging you closer to his chest, he drags so you two are laying back down. You close your eyes at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you like some blanket. “About what? You totally got this.”

“Hmph. It’s just that, I, uh. I have to write an article on a topic of my choice, and—I. Don’t know? I have no clue what to write about.”

Listening attentively, he doesn’t interrupt as your words begin to pour out like a prayer. He doesn’t even interrupt when you say something along the lines of being “at best—mediocre”, even though he really wanted to. You scoff. “It’s a silly problem to have, I’m well aware, but…it’s the truth.”

The Monegasque picks your breathing patterns, mindlessly copying as you cuddle him. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swiftly look up, cheek pressed against his heart beat. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

What do you want him to say? Your lips open aimlessly, then close forcefully. 

He grabs a nearby blacket, covering you both and hugging you the same he’s seen you hug your teddy bear. “I think you need to have a little bit more faith. In yourself, that is. Because your mind…” Green eyes connect with yours as your breath comes to a strong halt. He tends to make your body react that way, quite often. He sends a simple grin. Dimples and all.

“It's the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

-

Abu Dhabi 2021.

It’s been talked about too much already.

Spain 2016.

You’re kidding, right?

Fine. Azerbaijan 2018—

You let out a muffled scream. “Pierre, no! I need something better.”

“Better than all that drama?” he dead pans, genuinely confused as to why his ideas are being shut down.

You exhale, hair flying outward. “I love it too, but I need something new. Unheard of.”

The Frenchman pauses, curling a brow. “I’ve gone blank.”

You bite down on your tongue, shrugging it off. “It’s okay. I should probably come up with my own topic, anyways.”

Getting up, you wave goodbye and make your way to the ice cream truck that’s been rented out for the weekend. Smartest investment, you think to yourself as you twirl your tongue around the lavender spoon. 

“This time I really do mean it—blow me.”

Squinting up at the sun—which so happens to be behind Charles like a halo—you chuckle, feeding him a spoonful. “Good, no?”

“Delicious,” he hums, going in for another. “Have you tried the funnel cakes?” They have funnel cakes? you squeal, eyes shining. He nods. “Want one?”

You deflate. “Later.”

Watching the crowd walk by, you two sit there, switching turns and enjoying each other's company. It’s amazing how no one comes up to Charles, either. Not that he would mind, but it’s definitely a nice surprise. Glancing over, he hands the spoon back to you. “Come up with something?”

“I have a few ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Pistachio ice cream melts away faster. “I told Pierre to leave you alone, I hope he didn’t bother you too much.”

“He’s actually the reason why I have these ideas. Don’t let him know, though, I would never live it down.”

Watercolor eyes go wide. “Really? Pierre actually helped?”

“Weird, huh?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Don’t stress out too much, honey. You still have time.”

You purse your lips. “But the sooner I figure it, the sooner I can start and just focus, and do the proper research and try and—”

“You have time,” he reaffirms with a knowing look. You cock your head and he sends a sly grin. “Plenty.”

“Plenty,” you copy as he nods along. Extending his arm, he signals to the spoon. You shake your head. “You can have the rest.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

-

Write what you know. Write. What. You. Know.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Biting down on your pen, you’re spaced out, staring at the picture frame. In it, Charles and Carlos smile, you can tell, behind their helmets. While the Monegasque’s eyes crinkle sweetly, the Spaniards are dilated and wide. Both nice, but nothing beats those green eyes. 

You can slowly feel your sanity slipping away, day by day. There’d be times where you thought you had it figured out, but then you’d bring it up and Lissie would smile and say—

“Yes! Stick to that one! Start it. Right now.”

It wouldn’t seem genuine because you know she just wanted you to get it done given it’s due in less than two weeks. And even though it was good, it wasn’t good enough. 

“I’m just going to brainstorm a few more ideas.”

She’d given up, mumbling beneath her breath and grabbing her keynotes and headed to her meeting. Well, technically it was your meeting too, but again. Time crunch.

Hence, why you’re admiring the picture and thinking harder than you were a minute ago. The door slides open then, the two Ferrari drivers back from their media duties. You rip your gaze away as soon as they make their way closer. “How does one fake their own disappearance?”

“Oi,” the brown eyed boy warns, toothy grin expanding. “Good question, though.”

“Oi, you,” your boyfriend warns back, glaring at his teammate. “At this point, I’m sure she’d go through with it.” He turns to you. “Honey, you’ve got to decide already, it can’t be that hard.”

“I know that!” you burst out, ears burning as you avoid their eyes. “But there’s just so much! I don’t want to jump the gun and make a mistake, is all.”

Carlos juts his lip, then rolls his jaw. “If only you took someone’s very good proposition.”

A scoff. “I wasn’t going to write about Papaya Rules, Chili.”

“It would’ve been so good, though!” A beat. “What about—”

“Nor multi-21.”

His expression drops, along with his shoulders, and strolls away, flipping you off. I hope you figure it out, then! A low chuckle makes its way as you exhale loudly. “C’mon, what’s the problem this time?”

You bite your lip, brows drawn in together as you gaze back at Charles. “I’m not entirely convinced.”

“Honey…”

“A-and I know I’m running out of time, but I just want it to be perfect!”

He smiles, throwing his arm on your shoulder. “And it will be, but you need a topic.”

“Yeah…” You raise a brow.  “What happened to having ‘plenty’ of time?”

The Monegasque wiggles his brows. “You can’t take up too much advantage.”

-

I’ve decided. 

That’s the lie you settle with because quite frankly, you’re done with the constant questions. If you were going to come up with the best matter to write about, then you need to have a clear head. Carly is over the moon, Lissie is ecstatic, and Charles is proud. 

Great! What’s it going to be about?

It’s a surprise. 

At first, they were all as curious as can be, but later when you insisted that it’d be better that way, they nodded, though the interest was still there. 

Now—with only a week and a half before your due date—you lay, plopped on your stomach, fingers teasing the keyboard as you watch Charles jump into his race suit. You sigh, sitting up. “I think I’m going to stay in here today.”

He fixes the zipper. “Yeah?”

You nod. “That way I can work and watch you.” You point to the T.V. hung up on his room wall. “Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you need to do in order to focus, baby.” A wink. “It’s fine by me.”

They’re in lap sixty out of seventy-five, the last time you check, and your page remains as white as a ghost and as bare as a newborn baby. It’s both amusing and mind-boggling. Groaning, you hit your head with the back of your hand before running it down your face. Then, to make matters worse, your laptop dies.

Shit, you grit as you look around and spot Charles’ placed neatly on top of a nearby chair. Strolling over, you grab and open it, typing in his passcode and signing into your account. A few seconds later, the blank page resurfaces. Blinking slowly, you spot it. 

Notes. 

You take a look around, but really don’t know why since you’re the only one in his motorhome, and then click onto the App, furrowing your brows with concentration. 

Turns out, you really like to read because one after another, you skim through his journal entries without a second thought. Eagerly, might you add. Some things you know, others you don’t, but nevertheless, you’re caught off guard. How sensitive he is and how it portrays in every word. Not only are you amazed, but you’re completely engrossed. 

And it sparks something in you.

With a large grin, the brunette makes his way back to his room, trophy in hand and handshakes and pats on the back all around. Grazie mille, he beams as he makes his way closer, sending a final wave before opening his door. Finding you with his spare helmet over your head, he laughs. You giggle, opening the visor. “That’s one good looking winner!”

He laughs, placing the gold trophy down and enjoying you the way you struggle to take it off. You let out a loud gasp as soon as he assists you, tugging it off. “Shit.” Another gasp. “How do you wear that thing for two hours?” Fixing your hair, you pat it down as you send him a sheepish smile. “Give me a kiss!”

“No thanks. Too sweaty.”

Pouting, you pinch his ear tenderly before he gives in, pressing his lips against yours. “You were amazing out there, Charlie. You really were, I want you to know.”

Green eyes soften as he tries his best to savor this moment. “Only cause you say so.” You giggle, hugging his waist and he drapes his hands over your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head. “How far along were you able to get?”

A hum. “Quite far, actually.”

He lets out a whistle, making your cheeks glow. “Looks like we’re both having a good day.”

“Looks like,” you swoon. “Looks like.”

Tilting your head back, you match with his eyes as he sends a dimpled smile. 

Write what you know, you think to yourself as he leans back down to kiss you. His lips greedily crash against your own as you let out a soft moan, playing with his hair, large hands making their way down to your ass. And you, my dear Charlie…

He groans, shuddering as soon as you grind back against his thigh. You smile, admiring his open mouth.

I know you very well.

-

You feel guilty when you start on your first page, but by the time you make it to your third, you’ve talked yourself out of it. You would explain. As soon as you’re done, before you turn it in, you would explain it all to him. Tell him that this is simply because you love him. How he’s your biggest inspiration, and how this wasn’t you using him, but rather you showing others how amazing he truly is.

He notices it right away—the determination. And he admires you for it because he hasn’t seen you like that ever since your writer’s block. So, he tries not to intrude in moments where you’re on a roll, and instead makes sure to have a bath ready for you. He joins you sometimes, too.

Cracking your fingers, you yawn, exhausted, and stretch like a cat. He chuckles, closing his book like a light thud. “Update?”

“Six pages.”

“Wow. You really got it going on.” You blush. “You deserve something sweet. What do you want?”

“But it’s so late, and you have to be up early tomorrow…”

He rolls his eyes, already grabbing your trench coat. “It’s a bit cold out right now.”

You smile.

It’s not that far of a walk, three miles. After buying you a hot chocolate—with extra whip—he takes your mitten covered hand and leads you out the small coffee shop. By now, not many people are out, so it makes for a calm stroll.

“Shhh—ah,” you hiss, tongue sticking out as your face twists with subtle pain. He laughs, eyes crinkling. Drink slowly, he says, voice laced with humor. “The cool air helps,” you murmur, blowing on the hot drink. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

He shakes his head. “I just wanted you to unwind.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” you coo, enjoying the way his ears turn pink. You giggle. “Why do I feel like you’re thinking about something, though?”

“I am. You.” A gust of wind dances. “Always.”

You purse your lips, taking a slow sip, lipstick painting the white lid. “I’m serious, Cha. You’ve been quiet ever since you got off that phone call two hours ago.” Neat brows knit together with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answers, but it’s too quick for it to be the truth.

Giving his large hand a squeeze, you send a knowing look. His breath hitches. “You can talk to me—”

“Are you almost done with your article?” he asks, obviously changing the topic as he stares up ahead, and if not, down at his shoes. Pink nose twitches. “I miss you, and call me greedy, but I was hoping you’d be done before my birthday, at least, that way we could…I don’t know—” He shrugs. “You’ve just been really busy—which I get why, and I understand—but I miss y-you.”

Wincing, you chew your bottom lip a couple times before letting go. “Almost, but.” His shoulders drop, making your stomach twist. You panic. “I feel like I’m missing something. Like the final bang in order for it to be…” A beat. “I’ll be done before your birthday, you can count on that.”

Round eyes finally flicker up as he nods, a more relaxed look evident. “This makes me sound so needy,” he says. “Which I guess I am, bu—”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off with a reassuring smile. “But please, tell me what’s going on…”

The Monegasque stiffens. Despite walking, you can tell. You can feel it. Also, it doesn’t take a genius to notice. “They’re not renewing Carlos’ contract for next year.”

You stop walking, making him stop too. He’s still holding onto you, rubbing small circles against cashmere. “W-why?”

“Guess.”

Your mind races. The rumors have definitely been swirling—everyone’s heard—but really? “They’re actually doing it?”

He nods.

“Lewis,” you whisper like it the first time you pronounce his name. “This is, uh…wow. I mean, wow.” 

“Yup,” he says, popping the p. “Wow, for sure.” Letting go, he takes a small step back, but still faces you with an uneasy look. “They brought it up as a possibility, but I don’t know why I never thought they’d be capable of…” He grimaces. “I can’t even begin to imagine how Carlos must be feeling.”

“Weren’t they just praising him last time during your guys’ team meeting?” You curl the cup towards your chest. “That’s fucked up.” Charles sighs, pinching the tip of his nose swiftly. Your eyes fill up with concern. “What about you?”

“I got an extension.”

You let out a breath of relief, nodding. “O-okay, okay. That’s good, Charlie, that’s really good.” When he keeps quiet, you pause all movement and blink feverishly. “Why are you upset, then?”

“I’m not,” he answers. “Only worried.” Listening closely, you silently wait for him to continue. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly tired. “It’s just that…he. He’s Lewis,” he finishes like that’s enough explanation.

You curl a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A weak chuckle. “It means he’s better, and the team is going to favor him over me.” A timid shrug. “I get it, though. If anyone can bring a Championship home for the team, it’s going to be him.”

“It’s going to be you.”

“No.” The light in his eyes gave out, slowly and painfully so. “It’s not.”

Berry lips open, then close lamely, analyzing him like the world's biggest mystery. Sternly, you narrow your eyes down like knives. “World Champion?”

He flinches.

You click your tongue. “Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

“What?” he says, puzzled.

You nod. “Why are you giving up so easily, huh?”

Sharp jaw clenches. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a former World Champion, and I’m not.” He chuckles sourly. “It’s really not that difficult to figure out. I mean, I’ve been working for it for so long now, and look at me! I’m nowhere close to being there!”

Silence. Chest heaves. You never let go of your gaze, and he has no other choice than to do the same. He’s not mad at you—not mad at anyone, really—but he’s frustrated. And yeah. Maybe he is giving up the fight, but anyone else who was in his position would too. No one wants to be the laughing stock, no one wants to be compared. 

“Listen to me Charles Leclerc, and listen to me closely because I’m only going to say this once.”

He waits.

“If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.”

Pink lips turn upward as he tilts his head in the slightest of tilts.

Holding his face between your delicate hands, you raise your brows, shivering at the icy air. He can feel your hand vibrate against his skin as he grabs them, brings them up to his mouth, and blows hot air onto them. “I believe in you. Everybody does. Do you believe in that?”

And it takes a moment for him to answer. It takes a moment for it to register. He nods. Sure of himself.

“Only because you do.”

-

“A USB?” He frowns. “I thought you hated those?”

“I do,” you say, combing through your hair, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. “But I feel like this makes it real. Physically turning it in, I mean. It’s dumb, but…” You check the time, shrieking and grabbing your things. “Carly is going to kill me! Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, and then we can go with your family for dinner, or I’ll meet you there, yeah?” You huff. “Red or white wine?”

“Sparkling water,” he ponders. “Maman is trying to get to ‘quit.’ Which is probably not the right way to put it because it’s not like Lorenzo, Arthur, and I are alcoholics.”

“Oh. Alright then, I’ll just get that instead.” Tippy toeing, you peck his cheek briskly, sweet perfume hitting him. “I love you.”

Adoration fills his watercolor eyes. “I love you, too.”

Who knew?

Who knew that’d be the last time you’d hear those words coming from him?

-

Entering the familiar office, you wheeze, crouching down to catch your breath before sending over a coy smile. Carly laughs, clearly amused, before signaling to the chair that sits right in front of her. “We could have done this any other day as long as it was before the deadline, you know?”

“No,” you pant, heart beat barely switching back to its regular pace. Well. Sort of. “I need to get this out of the way, I promised Charles I’d be free before his birthday. He said it was his one and only wish, could you believe that, he’s so cute, isn’t he?” She blinks. Pink dusts your cheekbones. “Anyways, here it is.”

Looking down at your extended hand, she almost lets out a snicker. “I get I’m older than you, but really? You emailing it to me would have been just as effective.”

“I didn’t want to risk it going straight into your spam folder.” That, and I don’t want to see when you actually read it because I have a funny feeling you’re going to disapprove, which is okay, fair. “Here.”

“Very well, then,” she mumbles, retrieving it. “Why don’t we proofread it together one more time before send—”

Horrified at the innocent suggestion, you leap up from your chair, pushing back. “There’s no need, I checked it about a thousand times.” She raises a sharp brow at your outburst, the defensiveness in it. You laugh nervously. “And I should get going, anyways. Pascale is cooking Cha an early birthday dinner, can’t be late.”

Placing her forearms against the table, she nods slowly, but still unsure. “I won’t hold you back any longer, then. Tell him I said happy birthday.”

Tight lips form a forced smile, uneven breaths expanding. “Of course.”

You’re expected in an hour, so when you should be up forty-five minutes early, Pascale is pleased, but a bit surprised. Hugging you hello, she opens the door wider, letting you in. “They’re out in the back. Dinner should be ready in a bit.”

“No worries. Do you need any assistance?”

She shakes her head, thin blond hair swaying. “I’ve got it all under control, chérie.”

Nodding, you put your things down and start making your way towards the sound, beers clinking. You let out a snicker. “And here you are claiming not to be an alcoholic,” you joke. Flustered, Charles turns to face your soft voice. 

“It’s my first,” he squeaks.

“Third,” both Lorenzo and Arthur shoot, greeting you with a gentle nod. 

“It barely even has any alcohol,” your boyfriend tries defending, but the crack in his voice makes everyone burst out with laughter. Blood rushes to his cheeks. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Carly?”

“I was, but we got done pretty quickly.”

“What’d she think?” he asks, tugging you onto his lap. You giggle, meanwhile Arthur gags and Lorenzo blinks unbothered. “Bet she loved it.”

“I wouldn’t know. I left before she read it.”

He cocks his head. “Seriously?”

You nod. “You said you wanted my full attention.”

“I didn’t say it like that—”

“Well, now you have it.” You kiss his nose gingerly. “Happy early birthday, Charlie.”

The Monegasque smiles deeply. “Thank you.”

“Arthur! Lorenzo! Come help and set the table!”

Arthur groans. “Why just us? What about Charles?”

Poking her head out the window, Pascale aims a stern look, making him dash up. You laugh, ideally going to stand up, but gets tugged back down onto his thigh. You roll your eyes. “I should help, too. But you stay here and relax.”

“I will, but only if you stay with me.”

“Pascale needs my help—”

“Right, but she has both of them already.” He gives your hair a gentle tug. “Stay.”

Sighing, you nod, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you. From here, you can see the breathtaking view of Monaco’s sunset. The ocean, the trees. Filled with satisfaction in life, you kiss the side of his neck, making him squirm slightly. “Carly says happy birthday. Early. Early birthday.”

A hum. “Make sure to tell her that I said thank you, the next time you see her.”

The sound of waves crashing sings softly. He traces shapes down your leg. “When will I be able to read it?”

You’re sure you stop breathing. “S-soon. After Carly gives me the green light, at least.”

A beat. “I’m excited.”

Your stomach churns. “You are?”

“Mhm. Very. Didn’t you know I was your biggest fan?”

Fixing yourself to look at him, you open your lips, feeling how dry they’ve become. “Charles—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

A sore laugh. “They’re calling you.”

You reach towards your back pocket, pulling it out. Carly Freeman. Clicking it off, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He wiggles his brows. “Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing. Answer her, it’s fine.”

“She’s going to have to wait until tomorrow,” you announce, standing up and dusting your hands off. “I’m here with you, and she's going to have to wait. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than this.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

He sends a worried look. “Are you sure? What if it has something to do with your article? You should pick up—”

“I said I’m here with you,” you affirm. “Tomorrow. She’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Standing to his full height, he sends a gesture towards the house. “Let's go?”

His hand reaches out, waiting for you. You smile, taking it. “Let’s go.”

-

Your phone keeps buzzing and it doesn’t let him sleep.

That, and Carly is a terrible liar.

Shifting in the bed as quietly as possible, Charles reaches for your phone, trying his best not to wake you. “Hello?” he croaks. The line stays quiet, static rolling. “I know it's you, Carly.”

“Charles! How’s my favorite driver?” 

You twist, unwrapping your leg that was draped over him. He freezes, soothing you a bit before you settle down. Climbing off the bed, he walks out, gently closing the door and heading towards the living room. “I know your favorite is Fernando, what’s up?”

She laughs nervously, cursing underneath her breath. “Is my little journalist with you?”

“She is.”

“Great! May I speak with her very quick—”

“But she’s asleep.” She groans. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

Sitting down on the couch, he leans back, placing his feet onto the coffee table. Normally, he wouldn’t, but you weren’t here right now, and lucky for him, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He clicks his tongue. “Does this have something to do with your guys’ meeting today?”

“Yes. And no.” More static. “Do you mind waking her up for me?”

“Um…well I do. Sorry, Carly, but she needs to get some rest, she’s been working non-stop, and—”

“No, no, I get it!” she squeals. “I totally understand. Can you let her know that I need to talk to her as soon as possible? Like—urgent. Please and thank you and have a good night!”

“Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows and pushing the phone closer to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. Too much,” she adds. “It’s just that I need a bit of clarification, that’s all.”

“Clarification?”

“Yup. On a tiny mistake of hers. But we can fix it together, she still has time, and if she hurries then we can still meet the dea—”

“She doesn’t make mistakes, though. Ever.”

A hiss. “It’s a tiny one, Charles—”

“Okay, tell me and I’ll tell her.”

“What? I can’t. I need to speak directly with her first.”

“Carly…”

“What now?” she grits. 

“What’s the issue?” he presses harder. “I’ll let her know right now.”

The line goes quiet. For a moment, he begins to wonder if she’s hung up already, but when she clears her throat, he listens carefully, but can’t decipher her mumbles.

“She gave me the wrong USB.” That’s it? She groans. “Listen to me Charles—the USB she brought to be today only has her title written on it along with a few notes about what it’s supposed to be about. It’s the wrong one and I need the other one now.”

“Okay,” he mutters slowly, nodding. “I’m sure she’ll bring it to you once I let her know, but that’s going to have to be until tomorrow.”

She gasps. “You said you’d let her know right now!”

He winces. “I know I did, but it’s late! Trust me, though. I’ll tell her you called and I’ll even drive her myself tomorrow to drop it off. It must be around here somewhere right…” And it sure is. Sitting nicely on the coffee table, inches away from his feet. He sits up straight away, picking it up as if it were some sort of new discovery. Which in a way, it was. “Carly, why is this so important to you?”

“She’s my favorite client,” she answers without missing a beat. “I only want what’s best for her, and right now we need to fix this little mishap and get this article in as soon as possible.” A beat. “Also, maybe don’t mention the first part to Lissie, she’d totally kill me.”

Analyzing the black USB, he remains stoic, blinking only because he needs to. “Goodnight, Carly…”

“Yeah. I, um—goodnight, Charles.”

Once he hangs up, he’s quick on his feet, retrieving his laptop from the counter and sticking the drive in without a second to process what he’s doing. He shouldn’t. Probably. Definitely not. But the interest Carly clearly has was enough to poke his mind and for him to start wondering what on earth is so significant? 

And it’s so obvious now why.

Charles Lecelrc: The Man Behind the Helmet

His eyes skim fast, narrowing sharply.

Like any other human being, he struggles with depression, though fails to admit. Many sleepless nights, many fights, many canceled therapy appointments, I begin to question: does every praise his fans give him make him think he’s above all these things? The truth hurts, but it's only because it's real. And Charles Lecelrc, you are nowhere close to being as perfect as everyone makes you out to be.

His heart stops, re-reading the last sentence. He wishes for it to say anything but that, but it never changes, and it only mocks him like a school bully. 

Many assume that the death of his late-father, Hervé, and his late-godfather, Jules Bianchi, have made him stronger in a sense. That it has fed the drive in him to succeed. To be the best of the best, but what if that wasn’t true at all? Would any of you be surprised? Probably, but again, no one truly knows him the way I do. So, what feeds his determination? 

The thought of failing the same way they did. 

Anger bubbles up inside of him, grinding his molar until they crunch loudly against his temples. 

But who can blame him for having that fear inherited down onto him? Tabloids also have a part in this, and so do unwanted changes. One way or another, we can relate with the latter, but never in the way he does. Reading and hearing rumors takes a toll on Charles, that much is true, but what can we expect when his next new teammate is a seven-time World Champion. 

I guess the only question that stands in not only our minds, but also his… 

Is he strong enough to come head to head with someone as talented as Lewis Hamil—

“Wake up.”

Groggily, you rub your eyes. “Charlie, it’s dark out, come on. Come back to bed.”

“Stop calling me that, and get up.” In a single movement, he rips the blanket away and yanks you from your wrist, forcing you to sit. You gasp, his change of heart sobering you up from your sleepy daze. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs. “Me? What’s wrong with me? Are you serious right now or are you stupid?”

You flinch, taken aback. “Don’t talk to me like that, what did I do?”

“I won’t waste my breath explaining.” He drops his laptop on the bed, making you freeze as soon as you spot the familiar USB. “I'll let you re-read it.” 

“Where did you get this from?”

“Really? That’s what’s important to you?” He rolls his jaw, rubbing it until his skin turns a light shade of red. “If you don’t want me finding it, then next time don’t leave it out.”

Your lips go dry, crawling to the edge of the bed, but as soon as you’re about to reach out for him, he grimaces, shaking his head and taking three steps back. “Charlie—”

“No,” he hisses, glaring at you with utter hatred. The sight alone makes your eyes well up. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me that ever again.” A cry rings through the air as you cover your hands over your face. “A-am I supposed to be impressed by what I read or what?”

“It’s no—”

“Did I do something to upset you or w-why were you talking about me like that?” he questions, genuine confusion taking over as he furrows his brows until they cause his eyes to pinch up too. 

Sniffling, you get up quickly, shaking your head adamantly until you get dizzy. “It wasn’t supposed to come off across that way! Are you kidding me?” Grabbing your heart, you soften your eyes. “I’m your biggest supporter.”

“Yeah? Well, that,” he snarls, pointing at the open screen like it's the most disturbing thing. “That doesn’t make sense with what you’re saying…” A beat. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Do what, though?” you whimper. “Everything I wrote about you is based on what you told me!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, making the distance between you smaller, making you shrink. “I told you! Just you! I never once asked you to air out my business, and quite frankly, I thought that was common sense.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “You called me crazy and troublesome among other things. Are you my girlfriend or wolves in sheep's clothing? I’m trying to understand your logic here.”

You push your hair back, breathing hard. “You can’t just say that, there’s context behind that, come on…”

“Oh. Okay. My bad. I’m crazy because I talk to my father’s tombstone and Jules’. It's troublesome because I used to do cocaine in order to de-stress. I’m in over my head because I actually think I stand a chance against Lewis—a chance you convinced me I had!”

“That’s not what I meant!” you squeak. “You’re taking it all wrong, Charles, I would never say that about you!”

“But you did,” he states firmly. “And you know? If I’m so unready to face a friendly competition against my future teammate, then maybe I’m unready to face a lot of other things, too.” You freeze, dreading his next words as you plead him silently not to say them. “Maybe I’m not as ready to settle down with you as much as I thought I was…”

That does it. That seems to cut the little oxygen you had, off. Stumbling back, you feel the tears start to form again. “You don’t mean that…” You smile weakly. “You’re just a tiny bit upset right now, okay, fine. That’s fine. But you don’t mean any of that.”

Glaring until it hurts, he maintains eye contact. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, you don’t get to do that!”

You flinch. “I’m sorry.” A droplet slides down. “I’m sorry, okay?” More follows. “For all of it. For all of this. If I could take it all back, I would, you have to believe me, Charles, you know I would.”

His gaze lingers for a while longer, taking in your rosy nose. Your swollen eyes. Your wet cheeks. Everything that's supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “I really did trust you…” You breath hitches. “And I really did want you to win…” Pause. “And I still do.”

Strolling over, he disconnects the USB, making the screen go completely black, and hands it to you. Blinking down, you shake your head, too embarrassed to even look at it. “I don’t want it.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want it either…” Forcing your palm open, he places it down, instantly making your skin burn. “Journalist of the Year.”

You let out a wet sob, shoulders shaking. You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, but what you do know is that this doesn’t feel good and that your heart breaks with every passing second.

Never in a million years did you think you would experience any of this, especially with Charles. The Monegasque cocks his head, curls following. “I’m glad you’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted, I really am.” He chuckles softly, eyeing you intently. “I just can’t help but wonder what that must feel like.”

“I was going to tell you,” you whisper meekly. “And you were supposed to understand where I was coming from.”

And if any anger was gone, well fuck that, it all came right back.

“Understand where you were coming from?” he spits out, shocked by your choice of words. “You really thought I would understand? I planned my entire future around you, and this is how you repay me? You went behind my back to write an article I didn’t even know about! We made a choice years ago!”

“No, you did!” you retort, despair rising hard and fast. “You came up with that decision all by yourself, Charles, I never agreed!” You look down. “Not entirely.”

“Huh,” he scoffs, squinting his eyes. “I was simply looking out for the girl that I love given that the internet is a scary place and she probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it, for God sakes, I guess this is my fault now, isn’t it?”

“I would have been able to handle it, but you never gave me the chance!”

“Yeah, because reporting on a driver and driver who's your boyfriend are two completely different things that you can’t seem to comprehend!”

Trembling, you blink carefully, gulping. “I would have done just fine.”

“You think so?” he challenges, a sour smile forming. You nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?” Closing the final distance between you two, your breath gets stuck as he sends a dirty glare, one that's meant to sting. “You’re not talented. You only have your position because of your dating status, when in reality, your work is utter shit. Everything is handed to you.”

There’s a mix of a whimper and a plea that comes out of you as you screw your eyes shut. “You’re being mean, Charles…”

He laughs, clapping his hands once with amusement. “That’s what the internet is! Maybe I was right, then—you can’t handle it.”

“I could…” you murmur, but it's no use. 

The brunette catches himself wanting to comfort you. To apologize for everything. But then he figures—why? It’s not like he truly did something wrong. 

“You’re the greatest disappointment of my life.”

Something ended the moment those words left his mouth—you both knew it. Sobbing hard, your shoulders vibrate violently as you seemingly gasp for air. He looks away. 

“You know, our life could have been so good. So fucking good. But you went and ruined it.” Green eyes flicker back. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you declare with wet lashes. 

“You did a bit more than that,” he replies, wincing, blinking rapidly. He smiles. “If you wanted to write your article on me, you should’ve asked me. You should have talked to me. But no. And the thing is, I would have let you! God. I would have let you write whatever you wanted—but not like this. You stole an interview from me with no right, honey…”

Quickly, you flicker your gaze up at him, hoping to see any trace of  love in that one word, but you’re not surprised when you don’t find any, deflating furthermore. He shrugs. Like what you did to him was no big deal. 

“You took it from me. But I would have given it to you.”

-

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can always change your mind, babe, it’s totally fine!”

“No.” You fix your hair, posture straight. You smile. “I need to.”

Lissie shares a slow nod, nibbling on her bottom lip before handing you her keynotes. “Alright. Good luck.”

The idea first sparked when the Brit girl mentioned how she was the only one granted permission to interview Charles at this year's FIA prize giving ceremony. You had debated back and forth with what seemed like forever, both Carly and Lissie trying to talk you out of it, but you pleaded until they reluctantly agreed. 

You haven’t seen him ever since that day.

It’s insane to think about, sometimes. You knew each other for two years, dated for three, and haven’t crossed paths for another two. And now, you’re here. He’d been upfront that day, didn’t even flinch with his one and only birthday wish, meanwhile you felt the last stab hurt more than anything.

I wish to never see you again. 

Not long after, he grabbed his things and left. But not before turning around, sending you one last glance, dull, empty, and nothing like him anymore. You still recall.

Turn it in, he said, smiling warmly despite his better judgment. Despite not meaning it. Don’t let this all be for nothing.

Shaking your hands, you grin, fixing your silk dress. The Brit girl stares worriedly, but as soon as you wink, she hides it. Not that well, but enough. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” she jokes, but it’s probably true. He has a soft spot for her, and he only gave permission to her. No one else. 

You wince, grabbing her hands delicately. “I really appreciate this, Lissie. More than you’ll ever know.”

Waving goodbye, you make your way to the private conference hall. It’s daunting, actually, the sight of the large table where he’ll be sitting and the small chair where you will. Quite the narrative. His picture is hung in almost every corner, from the beginning of his career to now. The latest one makes you smile as he lifts the trophy high up with a beaming grin, dimples poking out and eyes crinkled just the way you remember. 

You thought about apologizing again. Better this time. Once things simmered down. You really wanted to, but as soon as Carly informed you that the article would need to be published in order for fans to engage with your content and for them to decide on a winner, you knew the gist of him accepting your apology was most likely never going to happen. 

And you contemplated not posting it. Carly did too. Lissie did too. No one thought it was a good idea, but you still did it. Like he said—you couldn’t let all that be for nothing.

The hate came immediately, you expected nothing less. In their minds, you were a loyal girlfriend, but after reading your work, the comments came rolling in. You were honestly quite grateful because you know you deserved every last bit of it. 

But somehow—somehow—you won Journalist of the Year. 

You were shocked to say the least—bewildered. And you could see it in Lissie and Carly’s eyes too. So, while accepting the award with a forced smile, it hit you like a truck.

Did you truly earn this or was it all thanks to him?

Either way, does it matter anymore?

The door gently opens as he steps in, a loopy smile stretched onto his lips before coming to a complete stop. With your heart in your throat, you cough awkwardly, standing up and waving. You cringe, putting your hand down as soon as he furrows his brows, looking around. 

“S-she’s not here,” you say, voice cracking. You blush. “You’re looking for Lissie, right?” Utter silence. He blinks, unresponsive and as stiff as a tree. You lick your lips. “I-I-I can leave if you want.” But you really hope he doesn’t want you to.

The Monegasque’s features strike with something familiar—something you knew not long ago. Then…

He smiles at you. 

“It’s alright.” Carefully, he makes his way closer, scooting his chair right next to yours as you blink, sitting back down and staring with your plump lips slightly open. He cocks his head. “Y-you look the same.”

You giggle. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” When he fails to answer, you bite down on your lip hesitantly. “You haven’t changed much, either.” 

He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why are you here and where is Lissie?”

You flinch. Okay. This was expected. You practiced hours for this very moment. “Don’t be mad at her, okay, I asked her to let me do this. I wanted to…see you, Charles.” The sound of his name leaving your lips makes his heart stop because it's been so long since he’s heard it. Too long. A subtle blush. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Ah,” he winces, scrunching his nose. “Don’t. We’re cool.”

“Are we, though?”

He stiffens. 

Exhaling, you place your things down, pursing your lips. He watches the way your knee bounces up and down. How you play with your ring before covering it neatly with the opposite hand. That catches him completely off guard as he blinks rapidly, thinking he must be mistaken. 

“I know I don’t deserve any of this,” you say nervously. “By all means, I should have been kicked out five minutes ago, but you…” Round eyes soften, lashes batting slowly. “You’ve always been a kind and generous human being, Charles.”

“Stop,” he whispers. You frown. “Saying my name, I mean. You can talk—we can talk, but please, just. Don’t say it.”

“O-okay,” you mumble, stomach churning. “I won’t.”

He lets out a tight smile, tilting his head. Years ago, his hair was a tad bit longer, fluffier even. Now, it’s still the same, but somehow more mature. His eyes are still young and naive, but with a hint of wisdom. He usually would wear mismatching suits, but now it matches. A lot of him has changed, and you weren’t there to witness it.

“Congrats, by the way,” you add happily. “World Champion, eh?”

Pink spreads across his cheeks, slowly but surely. “Thanks. I was close to losing my mind.”

You laugh. “Seven years later, but it’s well deserved. I’m so proud of you.”

And for a moment, he goes completely numb. He’s heard plenty of kudos ever since winning his first title—and they were nice, they made him feel nice—but this. You? It’s the first time it makes him feel accomplished. And that feels more than nice.

Playing with his bracelet, he nods sheepishly. “How have you—how, um…God. I, um, how have you been?”

“Oh.” You let out a genuine smile. Soft. Angelic. And everything he wishes to find in any other girl that isn’t you. It’s not something he should notice. “I’ve been well.” You raise your hand. “Engaged.”

“You sure are,” he mumbles, finally acknowledging the silver band before flashing an easy smile of his own. And maybe it was real, or maybe it wasn’t, but he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. Just a tiny bit bothered, is all. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You lick your lips awkwardly. “You remember Carly’s son?”

A tide hits him as he internally screams. “Grayson, right?”

You nod. “She, uh, set us up a while ago and we hit it off.” You wince. “I’m sorry, is that weird?”

“No. Of course not,” he replies, shrugging. “You’re allowed to build your life with whomever you want. What happened between us was…” He chuckles. “So long ago. I’m happy for you both, I really am.”

And he means it this time.

Admiring the oval-shaped ring, you swoon as if you’re thinking of the exact moment he proposed to you, and that’s the prettiest sight Charles thinks he might ever see. Even if it didn’t end up being him. Once you look back up, he looks away, feigning interest in anything else stupidly.

“Yourself?”

“Myself?”

A playful eye roll. “Are you seeing anyone?”

A retch. “Ha ha, no! No, that’s not—that’s not for me.” You frown. He winces. “Please don’t be offended, but after you, I sort of lost interest in meeting other people. Pierre calls it trauma, I call it precaution.” A sore laugh. “B-but maybe one day. Never say never, am I right?”

The lights reflect directly towards you, so that lets him see the rosy blotches beginning to hug your cheekbones as your lips wobble. He panics. “N-no! Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”

“I ruined your life,” you wail, throwing your hands over your face. “Oh my God, I wrecked it!”

“You didn’t!” he tries. “I’ve gone on a couple of dates, here and there!”

You’re tiny cries take a quick pause. Sniffling, you shoot him a look, shiny eyes beaming back at him. “You have?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, slowly relaxing against his seat. “Sort of. Kind of.” A horrified expression maps out against your face. He grimaces. “I-It’s just not my thing!”

“I’m sorry, Ch—” You pause, rethinking your words. “I’m sorry.”

The Monegasque shrugs, hoping that’d be enough for you to drop the topic. “It’s okay, really. It’s a decision I made long ago, and I’d like to keep it like that for a while, at least.” You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding halfheartedly. “But please, um, tell me, how far along are you? Heard from Lissie that it’s a boy.”

You let out a wet giggle, wiping your tears away to the best of your ability. “Nineteen weeks. I’m in my second trimester.” Gingerly, you rub your tiny belly before your eyes light up. “Give me your hand!”

“What?”

Leaning in, you grab his large hand and place it down on your stomach, looking up at him to watch his reaction. At first, he’s weirded out, you can tell. He makes a silly face he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, but seconds later his features soften. His green eyes go round, no tension behind them. His brows lay flat, then knit together in amazement. He laughs, rubbing his thumb gently.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers. “When he kicks?”

You hum. “Sometimes it can. But I suppose it’s more discomfort than anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Cool?”

He nods rapidly. “Super cool.”

Pulling away, he can feel his adrenaline as high as a kite, and as fast as his car. He feels different, he notes, as if something has finally shifted inside of him. With this, he takes time to admire you in a way he hasn’t been able to ever since.

Your hair is cut into layers now, glossy and shorter than he remembers. Your lips, round, plump and berry tinted. Your eyes, doe, innocent, and pure in a way he can’t seem to wrap his head around. Smile, even, wobbly, and everything in between.

Your gaze flickers. “Question…”

“Answer,” he replies, studying your body language. 

It’s harder than you had initially thought it would be, asking him what you’d been wondering for these past two years. Was it all that bad? The answer might be yes. Yes, it was. To him, perhaps. But it tugs your tongue, and it burns a bit, but you push through, focusing on him and his watercolor eyes.

“Do you—”

But he still knows you. He can still read you. Before you, it’s always him who understands your train of thought. 

He shakes his head, dimples imprinting like a finger in sand. “No regrets.” 

A peach seed forms as you let out a sheepish laugh. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life,” you admit, cringing slightly. “Just yesterday, I bought the wrong plane ticket. Got stuck in the airport for three extra hours.” He chuckles. “Totally unnecessary.”

“It happens,” he comforts you, clicking his tongue. 

“I guess so,” you say, sighing. “But betraying someone you love? Yeah. That’s got to be the worst mistake of my life.”

He flinches, an old wound suddenly opening. “Hey, you—”

You raise your hand, pleading with him. “Let me just…” So, he forces himself to sit there quietly, to not intrude no matter how much he really wants to. It’s fine, he wants to say, I’m fine now, we’re fine now, seriously.

A wince. “Do you know how guilty I feel whenever Grayson polishes my award?” A scoff. “He means no harm with his actions, but it makes me feel like shit everytime I walk past it. I’ve begged him to put it away somewhere in the attic, but he’s as proud as can be. Say’s an accomplishment like that deserves to be shown off. That it’s proof of all my hard work.” You smile. “Much like you and your trophy.”

You exhale. “You were right, though.” A hum. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure,” you give in quietly. “But you did say that if I won, I’d always wonder if I was truly respected for my work or if I was respected because of you.”

He bites his tongue. 

You shrug lamely. “And that’s just something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life…” Steadily, you ease your eyes back towards him as you find him already staring at you, listening close and curious. “And I want you to know that I’m fine with that.” A beat. “What I’m not fine with is you being mad at me for the rest of your life.”

Charles opens his mouth, feeling his tongue as dry as the desert and his throat as dusty as the highest mountain. “I’m not mad at you…anymore.” He sits up straighter. “I said a lot of things to you that night that I shouldn’t have said, but you have to understand that you hurt me a thousand times worse.” 

Tears well up your eyes as you nod shamefully. He continues despite feeling the need to reach out for you. “I just wanted you to feel what I was feeling, even if that meant—well. You know. And, um…I tried to forget all of that, but I, too, felt guilty, so—I’m glad you’re here. That way I can say…I’m sorry.”

“No!” you wail, raising your arms up. “No, I’m sorry! I broke your trust, and I was a God awful girlfriend.”

“You did,” he chuckles before scrunching his nose in deep thought. “But you were also the best I’ll ever have.”

A wet sob escapes.

“I forgive you.”

“S-shit,” you let out. “You don’t know how g-good it feels to finally hear you say that.”

A gentle smile. “You?”

You giggle, standing up. “I have nothing to forgive you for, but yeah. Okay. I forgive you, as well.” You open your arms for a hug. He blinks. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Tsk. “You used to do this all the time wherever we fought,” he says, a hint of sadness wavering in his eyes before disappearing into thin air. Extending to his full height, he towers over you before going in to close the distance. He halts, coughing awkwardly.

You snicker, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Right. You're hugging two of us now.”

A wave of jealousy pangs his chest for a second. You’ve moved on, and he’s stuck in the year you were still in his life. Still his. He envies Grayson in every sense there exists, but he swallows down that pill because he’d always been a nice bloke the very few times he interacted with him. He needs to move on, too. 

Even if it takes him his whole life to figure out how. 

“The more the merrier.”

Your face has gone completely numb by now from how hard you're grinning from ear to ear. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he goes over your shoulders, you sigh contently as you catch the whiff of his cologne. His heartbeat quickened at the smell of your perfume. 

“Question,” he whispered. You chuckle against his chest. Answer. He gulps, nose twitching. “Would it make me a bad person to say that you’re probably the only girl I’ll ever love?” Silence. He screws his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. Why the fuck would he ever say that—

“I’d only say that I don’t deserve to be her,” you respond. “Anyone but me.”

A flinch. “O-of course. You’re getting married, you’re having a baby, what was I th—”

“Honey…”

He freezes. 

You lean back, holding his face between your hands and smiling. “It’s not your name…”

His voice catches. “It’s not…”

A deeper smile. Nostalgic. “A piece of me will always love you.” A pause. “You know me so well. Better than anyone. You’ve seen me naked. You’ve dressed me. You’ve seen me with makeup. You’ve seen me without. And…well—you’ve seen my good side. But you’re also the only one who's seen my bad.”

His palms quickly get sweaty as he tries his best to not do anything he might regret. And not because he’ll wish to take it back, but because you would. Neat brows draw in together as you graze his stubble with your thumb. As nurturing as a mother, which he supposes you already are. 

“I’d say that makes us pretty close, no?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be.” 

“You’ll find someone.” A beat. “Someone who’ll love you right.”

“You didn’t?” he questions before he can stop himself. “Sorry—”

“My love for you was honest. But I blew it.”

I’m still here, he wants to yell out. If you still want me like I want you, then I’m still here.

But he refrains from doing so.

“You’ve never done me wrong,” he attempts, kissing your palm gingerly before softening his gaze. You send a playful glare. “Except for that one time.” You snort. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore because—because it doesn’t matter anymore…”

Maybe it's the hormones, you sort of wish it was, but you know it’s due to his gentleness. You don’t deserve his sympathy, you don’t deserve even a fraction of it. Crying, you kiss his cheek, hoping everything you feel transfers itself into the warmth of his skin. And you don’t know, but it does just that.

Closing his eyes, he prays to dream about this kiss forever. Have nightmares, who even cares. As long as he doesn’t forget. 

You step away carefully, taking him in as his eyes flutter. 

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…”

He smiles. You smile. 

His dimples pop out. Your eyes crinkle.

He loves you. You love him.

And maybe it didn’t work out in this life.

But maybe in the next.

“May I have an interview with you?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna @emmaxdelicate

[rashomonss]

A HUMANS WRATH

Part XV

previous part

taglist: @miridiums-writing, @zerchila, @aeongiies, @xmoogx, @coffeeandtealol, @food-lover9000, @l0diluvs, @vichsy, @valeriele3, @entolomaeden, @acaribeau, @arcayia, @jessiegerl, @capricorn-anon, @crescentworld, @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r, @chumbinhoeba, @chaos-n-kindness, @strawberryfire17, @zenxvii, @misscaller06, @luminarysol, @simpinginthecorner, @your-next-daydream, @bontensbabygirl, @crxwned-mxnarch, @ibtisam-aran, @mochicurls21, @rxsehxney, @xpixie, @ihatecorns, @hello-gloomy, @lunarloathsome, @crazytacokoala, @levia-chan, @bunny-masks-blog

a/n: hey y'all!! yay i finally updated haha….im so sorry it took so long if you’ve been keeping up with my other posts you’ll know that february was not good to me haha

also i wanted to let y’all know that we’re finally reaching the end of this story!! i plan on only making a few more chapters then i believe that’ll be all!

lastly thanks for all y’all’s patience and continued support I love reading every one of y’all’s comments and theories, it means the world! love y'all ♡

warnings: violence, fighting, angst

express just how you feel, don’t bottle it up anymore

“MC how are you? Even though I previously saw you everyday I’ve missed this you” Diavolo said with a bright smile as you joined him for breakfast. No thanks to Barbatos’ constant pestering.

You gave him a polite smile and nod as a response. It was easy enough to come up with a basic answer that you were fine, even if that wasn’t the case at all.

However as he ranted on about missing you and what activities he’d enjoy doing with you after he finished his paperwork you couldn’t help but feel nauseous.

After all he dislocated your shoulder the other day and now he was acting as if everything was perfectly fine?

Even if it was another version of him it was still him in a sense, which filled you with unease. If that version of him could do something that significant to you without so much as a thought then you had every right to be worried.

Is this how the other version of you felt?

Is that why they hated being touched by any demons?

Another hearty laugh broke out sending a chill down your spine. It reminded you of when he cornered you in the hallway as you tried to escape.

“MC are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look a little pale?”

You went to nod but your body betrayed you. A new wave of nausea washed over you and you felt bile rise up in your throat.

“MC…?” Barbatos questioned as he moved closer to you when you ignored Diavolo’s question.

Your fingers gripped the soft tablecloth as you tried to ground yourself. If anything you refused to lose your stomach in front of them.

Both demons looked at each other worryingly and Barbatos went to place a hand on your shoulder for comfort. Immediately you jolted in response and slapped his hand away as a sensation of fear became present in the pit of your stomach.

You had no idea where it came from, much less why you were scared when the butler reached out to help you. But you did know one thing, you didn’t want anyone touching you.

“Don’t touch me!” you yelled.

Your tone of voice startled him and Diavolo but mainly you as well. What was going on with you?

You never acted like this before, even when staying in the other timeline for so long. So why now? Why was everything anyone was doing so triggering you in any sort of way?

“I apologize…I didn't mean to upset you, I only wanted to check if you were okay,” Barbatos replied as he backed off. Even though he didn’t bother showing it, he was clearly worried about your current mental state. It appeared to be out of control ever since you returned. Which was another point he’d have to bring up with him later, since many instructions weren’t followed.

“…I’m…heading back to bed” you replied as you swiftly stood up and made your way to the door.

“But…you just woke up” Diavolo said softly but you were well out of range for his voice to actually reach you.

With a sigh the butler looked to his lord then to the floor. Maybe they weren’t the right demons to welcome you back after being gone for such a decent amount of time. It was better if you were around demons you were used to, ones that were comforting.

So he picked up his D.D.D and quickly called the first demon that came to mind.

___

Seven bodies rushed towards you faster than you could process and some large beautiful roses were shoved in your face as you tried to process everything that was going on.

All seven of your demons began talking at once and exclaimed how much they had missed you.

“Oh MC! I can’t believe you’re back, I’ve missed you so so so terribly” Asmo cried as he clung onto your shoulder.

“Hey let go of them!” Mammon yelled in your ear as he tried yanking you away from Asmo.

“Stop pushing” Belphie groaned as he hugged your frame from behind.

“Mammon stop yelling so loudly” Levi shouted out as he was hugging you from the same side Asmo was.

The other three demons who weren’t suffocating you were also arguing with their brother as they clung onto you. Yelling and shouting could be heard from all around you as you stayed in place watching all seven of them yell back and forth like children.

It was too overwhelming. The yelling in your ear, the way one would hold you tighter if they got mad, the way four of them were putting all of their body weight on you was too much for your liking. And the fact the other three were aggravating the four who were holding onto you.

You felt so suffocated.

You were suffocated in your own timeline due to your willingness to indulge all of the seven demons you lived with.

You were suffocated in the other timeline because you decided to show some demons some kindness they hadn’t experienced for a very long time. Look where that got you. A dislocated shoulder and some unresolved issues that you refused to acknowledge.

You were suffocated with the prince and his butler. They always were on some type of schedule, and when you didn’t follow what Diavolo wanted at that very second, you would never hear the end of it from Barbatos.

Why was everyone so demanding?

God forbid you do something for yourself for once.

You struggled in their grip and tried to get their attention to possibly settle down. The constant loud yelling was getting you more agitated by the minute and frankly you were getting a headache.

Just as you were about to speak someone yelled over you and a fight between two of them broke out. Since you were absolutely fed up with it you shouted for all of them to shut up and pushed them off of you.

Each of the seven demons shut their mouth in an instant and the prince and butler looked at you with a worried expression. Due to that being the same tone of voice you used with Barbatos earlier he knew that something was obviously wrong.

Diavolo then spoke up for you as he walked over to the brothers. “Don’t mind them, a lot is on their mind right now especially since they’ve dealt with so much physically and emotionally these past couple days. So please give MC some space to relax”

You in turn shot him a glare. “I’m perfectly fine. However I don’t appreciate it when someone is screaming in my ear and putting all their weight on me while others are fighting in the background like children”

“How about you head back to the House of Lamentation. A lot is on your mind MC, it would do you good to go rest in a place you’re comfortable and familiar with” Barbatos then added trying his best to ease the tension in the room and change the topic as well.

With a nod you departed with the brothers about fifteen minutes later for a silent trip to the House of Lamentation. Each of them were too worried to bother you so they all left you to do your own thing when you all got home.

However Mammon was still going to try to comfort you in his own way.

“Hey MC, ya wanna hang out and watch a movie? I got a few in my room and we can relax” he asked with a soft smile as she walked up behind you.

“Thanks but I’d rather rest right now, maybe later” and before he could even finish you were off.

It was odd, during any other time you would’ve enjoyed hanging out and relaxing in his room like you used to but as of now you really wanted to just be by yourself.

So quietly you made your way to your room and when you opened the door you were absolutely applauded by the way it looked.

Everything was everywhere and the decorations you had of you and your demons were ripped and taken down. Clean clothes were piled onto a chair and your bed was an absolute mess as a few shits and things littered the floor.

However you were too tired to take care of it at the moment. Due to how emotional exhausted you were a nap sounded lovey so you plopped down and in minutes you were out.

___

Around late afternoon you had walked into the kitchen to grab a snack since you didn’t exactly have much of an appetite after everything that had happened in the past two days. Surprisingly enough two demons were already occupying the kitchen when you arrived, one gossiped and the other listened even though he was believably bored.

“MC” Satan said with a smile, he was very grateful that someone showed up to stop Asmo’s rambling.

With a nod you dug through the fridge and grabbed something to eat and walked over to the two hesitantly.

“What are you both talking about?” You asked after they stayed silent and smiled at you.

Amso was the first to perk up and tell you. “Well we were just talking about some new gossip about this one actor and her husband, some people we know and you…well the other you”

“The other me?” You asked

“Yeah the one you switched with remember.” Satan added.

You nodded and then looked at them before responding. Just how did the other version of you act? Were they like the other Barbatos said? Angry, stubborn, and everything. Did they treat your demons like how they’d treated theirs? So many questions ran through your head at once, but you opted for only asking a basic one.

“So just how was the other version of me?”

“They were a bit intense at first…no I take it back they were really intense at first, but in reality they only wanted one thing in the end then they finally were content” Asmo said as he reapplied some lipstick to his lips.

“Really what did they want?” You asked, now interested in the other versions' motives.

“They just wanted an apology. After Belphie gave them an honest heart to heart in the planetarium they finally calmed down and we were able to be civil with them” Asmo explained.

“Yeah and they even started opening up a bit, although they were exactly like you so learning about what they liked was cute since we already know what you enjoy” Satan added with a smirk.

You tuned out the rest of the conversation they were having with you as you focused on the said “apology” Belphie gave the other version of you.

So it was true and they weren’t lying when they talked to you previously in the attic. Somehow that ticked you off even more.

“Oh yeah and we’re so sorry you had to go through all that crazy timeline stuff dear, I bet it’s been so exhausting huh?” Asmo asked as he rubbed your back.

“Uh huh” you replied and then brushed him off as you excused yourself out of the kitchen without another word, causing the two demons to look at you with a slightly confused expression.

Silently you paced around the house for a bit as you rethought about what the two of them said. With a sigh you ventured into the common room and stared at the fireplace. So you were worth a basic sorry but not one that took responsibility for all the damage they caused you?

It’s not as if their words actually meant anything. Honestly if they had been keen on sweeping the whole incident under the rug then why even offer the other version of you an apology?

They did it to better help them heal?

Bullshit.

What about you?

How come they could do that for anyone else other than you?

When you’ve helped them so much.

Your rage and jealousy had been bubbling up inside you for so long that it finally reached its breaking point.

If anyone was supposed to receive any words or actions of their forgiveness it should’ve been you and you were tired of pretending you didn’t deserve anything less than that.

In a rage you trashed the common room as Asmo and Satan watched in horror since they just happened to walk by.

They rushed to try and stop you but you used your pact to stop them in place as you broke everything in sight. The sound of yelling and glass breaking alerted all the other demons in the house and soon the rest of them watched in awe as you demolished anything in your path.

Mammon ran to you as you ripped the roses they all bought for you and tore them to shreds right in front of them. When he reached you he grabbed you by the arm and you shoved him away and yelled at him in response.

They all just kept getting in your way, it was so unbearable.

As the six demons froze in place due to their activated pacts you picked up one of the large vases Lucifer loved and proceeded to lift it up to throw at them.

“This is all your fault! Look at what you’ve done to me” you screamed out to the six demons standing in front of you. Your cry was not one of just anger, they could sense the sorrow in your voice. The way it cracked and longed to just be healed.

You wanted someone to comfort you and the ability for someone, anyone honestly to just acknowledge what had happened to you. Maybe then if they did you could finally feel like your feelings were valid, rather than unnecessary and pointless.

Fresh tears fueled by pure anger and frustration fell from your eyes as you got ready to swing the vase at the six of them. That was until the youngest brother rushed in front of his brothers and spoke.

“This is my fault MC, please don’t take it out on my brothers” Belphie said as he stepped in front of the six of them, shielding them with his body.

“No it’s not just your fault. It’s all of your faults. Don’t feel too special Belphie, you're not the only one out of your brothers who has tried to kill me.” you spat out.

“Each of you have threatened to end my life at least once ever since I’ve been here, and believe me I haven’t forgotten a single moment of it. Unlike before I continued to ignore what happened just like all of you but I’m fed up now.”

The seven demons looked at themselves then back at you and sighed.

“MC we’re truly sorry, you know we-“ Lucifer began.

“I don’t want your apology. It means nothing to me anymore. Especially since you can go and hand it out to whoever now” you replied swiftly, cutting him off in the process.

“Then if I truly can’t make you believe me I’ll show you.” Belphie then said quickly.

“And how do you expect to do that?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your body.

“Take it out on me.”

“Excuse me?”

“All of your anger, everything you’ve had building up. Punch me, hit me, choke me, do whatever you need to do so that you don’t have to feel this way. I know my apology means nothing to you, and believe me this is much more selfish of me to ask you to do this but I want to make it up to you MC. Even if you’ll hate me for the rest of your life I want you to get the closure you deserve. I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you. For as long as I live”

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked at him in shock. You hadn’t expected him to actually respond like that, much less take responsibility for everything that had happened.

“Belphie-!” Beel began, he was still standing back with the others, but the worried look on his face was apparent as he watched his twin pour his heart out to the person they both cherished.

Belphie shook his head at his twin then looked back towards you. “I promise MC, I’ll show you how much of a better demon I can be. So go ahead”

The six demons behind you watched as you slowly approached the youngest hesitantly. Surprisingly enough he still had the same soft smile on his face as he watched you come closer.

Then you swung.

With a swift punch to the face, right on the nose Belphie stumbled back and grabbed his face as a small drop of blood pooled out.

You swung again.

And again,

And again.

As you watched the youngest fall to the floor you continued. And for some odd reason you didn’t feel bad about how beat up he was beginning to look.

Instead you finally felt a form of closure for the first time.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Cowboys

m Stoker: i've got a great story for you all tonight Koontz: dracula? Stoker: no dean it's not dracula Barker: you have other stories besides dracula? Stoker: Stoker: yes clive i do have other stories Barker: damn big if true!

Stoker: what are you implying clive? i have plenty of stories! Stoker: i'm not some one hit wonder like mary Mary Shelley: whoa there cowboy Shelley: maybe you wanna back that the fuck up? Stoker: i'm sorry mary, i didn't mean it Stoker: clive got me all riled up

Barker: tho bram does raise an interesting point Shelley: oh does he? does he raise an interesting point? and what would that point be clive? Shelley: think real careful before you answer Barker: i Shelley: real careful Shelley: real fuckin careful Barker: Barker: i withdraw the point

Shelley: i wrote plenty of stories Shelley: not my fault you lot only wanna hear frankenstein all the fuckin time Stoker: see? that's exactly what i'm saying King: ah jeez we're sorry guys King: it's just that, ya know… King: dracula! frankenstein! King: they're so iconic King: they just distract us from all the other stories that you guys apparently wrote

Stoker: that's better Stoker: i didn't JUST write dracula Stoker: i also wrote the lair of the white worm Barker: oh yeah we all remember THAT one Poe: clive

Koontz: do the song! Stoker: the song's not in the story Barker: oh but the song does slap Poe: dean loves the song Poe: we all love the song Stoker: Stoker: siiigh Stoker: [clapping, tapping foot] ohhhh john dampton went a-fishin', a-fishin' by the weir…

Stoker: you all remember the cowboy in dracula? King: of course! the cowboy was the best part! Stoker: well, what would you say if i wrote a story that was ALL cowboys? King: King: so like a western? Stoker: a what?

Stoker: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the shoulder of shasta Stoker: a rollicking romance of the old west starring city gal Esse Elstree and rootin' tootin' cowpoke Grizzly Dick- Barker: wait Barker: haha wait Barker: wait ha ha ha ha i'm sorry Barker: what was ha ha ha Barker: what ha ha ha ha

Barker: haha what was that name again ha ha Stoker: Grizzly Dick Barker: hoo ha ha ha oh my GOD Barker: ha ha ha Barker: edgar ha ha Barker: edgar don't you ha ha ha Barker: don't you have anything to say ha ha hoo Poe: cliiiivfffffppppphhhbbttttttahhaah ha ha

Stoker: what's so funny? Barker: nothinggggha ha ha Stoker: do you think there's something funny about Grizzly Dick? Barker: ha ha haaa

Stoker: Grizzly Dick is the best part of the story! Barker: ha ha haaaaaa Stoker: I love Grizzly Dick! Grizzly Dick is my favorite part! Stoker: my wife loves Grizzly Dick!! Barker: hahahahohgodi'mdying

Stoker: next you're going to act like there's something funny about Esse Elstree's stern governess Stoker: miss gimp Barker: HA HAH HAHAAAAA

Stoker: i'm not going to tell the story if you're going to laugh Barker: haha ok ok i'll stop Stoker: ok good Stoker: so anyway Grizzy Dick says Stoker: [ridiculous cowboy voice] "HOWDY PARDNA YIPPEE KAI YAY GIT ON A ROOTIN AND A TOOTIN-" Barker: AHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Robert E Howard: ain't nothin funny about this, hombre

[ravenstargames]

✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #9 | 02.29.24

What is this?! Two devlogs in one month?! More likely than you think! This February has been very productive for me and the team, so let's dive right into it!

Ooooh boy, Raquel keeps knocking it out of the park! She managed to get done every expression for every LI, and I coded them all! Now we have our wonderful characters ready for their debut. We have been using the wonderful Image Tools for Ren'py made by the talented and hard-working Feniks, whose tutorials and resources save a lot of dev's lives every day! This tool has made everything a bit easier for newbies like me, hehe.

Here's a taste of our edgelord's expressions! 💜 They're kind of a cutie when they put some effort into it!

We also had our second valentine's day celebration art piece thanks to Kayden! Sadly with the reworked version of the demo, you won't meet Vycar yet, so we thought we could ask for his forgiveness by giving him a beautiful bouquet and reminding him how much of a sweetheart he is! 💜

Also, Raeya got a hair update!

So, we weren't completely satisfied with the way we portrayed Raeya's hair, so this has been a rework we were sure we wanted to make. At first we were just going to render it again, but we ended up working on it from scratch to better represent what we envisioned for her. We hope you like it as much as we do! ; v ;💜

As always, we are open to any critique or advice; we are white people who have the luck to be able to ask POC friends for their advice as we work, but the more the merrier! Don't hesitate to send us your opinion to our ask box or even our email, gamesravenstar@gmail.com!

When it comes to the background department, we have been making great progress thanks to Airyn, who is honestly leaving us with our mouths hanging open every time! Thanks to her, another background has been finished and another one is in the making, leaving only two backgrounds to be revised and approved!

I personally can't stop looking at this WIP! She understood perfectly what we wanted to portray just by looking at an old WIP we had, and this is what we have so far—and it's already amazing!

Allie has been OBLITERATING the script. As of today, I think we have almost gone through everything that needed to be corrected and discussing, and lord if the script doesn't look a 100% better after we put it in Allie's hands. The way she writes, the way she understands everything I want to say even when sometimes I don't even know myself—what a talented, inspiring and amazing writer they are. I know I may sound annoying at this point singing her praises endlessly, but if the script is in the state where it is now, it's thanks to her!

My programming adventure of the month has been a success, if I say so myself! I've coded the characters with aaaaall their layers, their expressions, the blinking animations, made some videos, and started coding the script. Step by step as they say; I've coded 18 pages, and there's, uh...142 more to go. Haha! *sobs*

BUT WE ARE GETTING THERE! We can see the light at the end of the tunnel! I can finally click 'new game' and read the script and see the stuff going on! YAY!

Some extras of the month—we are preparing a Casting Call to choose the voice acting talent that will hopefully give voice to our characters. The demo won't be fully voiced (it's impossible with the funds we have, which are...zero), but if we are lucky we'll use some of our personal savings to pay for at least a few lines for each character so you can get an idea of how they'll sound if we get funded! Raquel is preparing an art piece for the announcement, and I'm getting the document ready and asking fellow VA friends for advice :3.

Also, we have a new member here at Ravenstar Games! Some weeks ago Astro and I formally adopted our first kitty, 8 month old Riki, fulfilling one of our dreams. We got him from a feline association that works with volunteers and fosters cats who have been abandoned, cats they find on the street, and so on. Riki has been living with me since January, and he's a happy, long big boy who loves playing, cuddles, and sitting on my desk while I try to work!

Say hi to the Ravenstar family, Riki! 💜

A productive month full of accomplished milestones, excitement and new challenges! The team has worked so hard, and I've done my part too! We still don't want to get ahead of ourselves, but we have done a lot of stuff we were sure we wouldn't finish yet, and look at that! We are doing so well!

As you can probably tell, my batteries are starting to run low, so I'm going to leave this devlog here. Thank you all like always for cheering us on, for being here in this journey with us, and for all the love you send our way. Let's hope March is as amazing as February has been, for us and for all of you! 💜

[rey-jake-therapist]

I love how no matter how much Charlie Vickers tries to stay out of the shipping stuff, ultimately he is the one who ends up contributing to it the most (his cognitive dissonance and trying to handle PR is hilarious to watch). And I say this as not even a shipper but a casual enjoyer haha

He didn’t get to see Morfydd acting as Sauron-playing-Galadriel while on set (he was in hair&makeup getting back to being Annatar after filming his Halbrand bit). So after seeing her performance during the finale screening, he was like, of course it was interesting to see how she interpreted my performance as Sauron but I would give her a few pointers (I’m paraphrasing).

Mind you, Morfydd was playing Sauron-pretending-to-be-Galadriel as smug, all smirking and twinkly eyes, and slightly annoyed and condescending when Galadriel continued her attack. So what feedback could Charlie even give, hmm? That Sauron should have been more emotional? Vulnerable? Interesting indeed. 2x08 could have been better but it’s fascinating still.

I always say that for someone who insists that Haladriel is not romantic, at the end of the day he's the one who describes them in the most romantic way. And his discourse has very much evolved, as he went from "Nope, they're not romantic at all and I hope it will be clear for everyone that it's not!" (I recently found an old interview where he said almost exactly that *crying*), to "I mean, after all, why not ? There's nothing in the lore that goes against it, and it's really cool that people ship it even if I don't see them that way, so just 'ship away' yay !" in the span of a year or two, so... Who knows, maybe next year he'll be like what Mads Mikkelsen is for Hannigram, and will profess Sauron's eternal love for Galadriel ?

I'm kidding of course. But the evolution of Charlie's discourse is certainly the result of a change in the PR campaign orchestrated for TROP. They also went from "No, no romance here ! Galadriel and Halbrand were friends, it was all platonic !" to "Sauron really loves Galadriel" and "Galadriel was obviously in love with Halbrand". And now there are also the social media managers who keep ship baiting ever since the finals came out. That's why I generally don't take anything that actors say seriously: they are trained to lie, to stay vague, to not engage in theories and shipping but also not to discourage them, etc. Also Charlie has proved to be a very good liar in the past, like when he said he "didn't play it that way" with Miv while Miv confessed it was actually his idea to make it "more ambiguous".

I don't remember the part where he said he could give Miv a few pointers, just that he trusted her to do a great job because she's such a fabulous actress :) And also that he found interesting, that it was how she saw him play Sauron.

I think she nailed it personally. Even disguised as Halbrand, Sauron didn't show any sign of vulnerability of emotion... To the point that many of us thought he was mocking her feelings for Halbrand. Now I tend to think that he really just wanted to make the point across that they weren't as different as she claimed, but the way he repeated his speech from the log scene, but without any of the emotion his voice and look expressed then... It was a bit painful to watch, really. The only moment he showed some genuine emotion was after he stabbed her !

So, since he played Annatar/Halbrand this way, it made sense for Morfydd (and Charles) to keep that line, imho. I have no idea what points he could have given her. She seemed perfect to me ;)

[swiftsaltsweet]

Two Knives Interlude 1: Rangi- Damn

Characters: Rangi and Kyoshi (RoK characters tbh)

Pairing: Rangshi

Rating: M

Summary:

Things have been stressful for Kyoshi. First, she sang a poem and now the whole kitchen staff thinks it’s about Rangi, and is sure that there will be gossip. Then, Yun asks her to join him for the Fifth Nation treaty signing. Now Rangi’s acting strange. It’s becoming a bit much for Kyoshi’s small corner of the world.

(Canon Divergent AU- Kelsang wasn’t the one who heard the poem?….aka What if it took longer for them to realize Kyoshi was the Avatar?)

Other Sites: AO3 

A/N: (Future me edit: Phew! Glad you guys seemed to like the little twist at the end, was a little nervous ngl TT0TT Also YAY! I CAN FINALLY START SHARING THE RANGI CHAPTERS! *sobs* so excited and haha oh man now I’m nervous akfjskfdaj)

(back to past me:) Heyyyyyy it’s POV switch time, just like The Hunt For Kyoshi’s: The Hunter and The Hunted chapters :’D

I only had this POV flip planned so………u_u but hey! It’s like 3 chapters worth in one chapter so :’D Wait…3 chapters….. *looks at the length of this chapter vs the others* Oh someone save meeeeeee TT0TT Haha this is gonna be a long chapter-Oh wait I’m getting a call. Ahuh. Hmm. Yup… 27 pages????......AND YOU AREN’T DONE……. THREE CHAPTERS AND NOT ONE?! Ok We’re splitting this into three chapters sorry. :’D

I underestimated how much Rangi yaps. u_u Pining more than a damn pine tree.

Me from the future (again): *stumbles in* Heyyyyy-o. Oh boi. Um….yes. So….THIS chapter was supposed to be chapter 4, but then I changed it. :’D So like….just remember how these were written/structured: Kyoshi’s first 3 chapters, and then Rangi’s first three chapters, then chapters 4-6, then Rangi’s 4th chapter (that 4th chapter wasn’t originally going to exist too jaklfjds. Man this fic has been shuffled about more than a deck of cards kjfdslafjs

____

Rangi was an idiot. She couldn’t believe that she walked all the way down to the kitchen, and had forgotten to tell Kyoshi the one important news she wanted to relay to her! She cursed that Aoma girl and her cronies for bullying Kyoshi, because they’d distracted her as well. Instead of telling Kyoshi the good news of Master Kelsang returning from a relief mission early, she was trying to give the giant girl tips on how to defend herself.

All those tips falling on deaf ears, as usual. 

She slowly and silently made her way back down to the ruckus kitchen. She heard them from the hallway, something about singing a dirty song or something about unrequited love. She really hoped Kyoshi wasn’t still wasting her time down there. 

“Kyoshi next!” someone said, and the sound of Kyoshi’s name made Rangi stop on the stairs. “She’s never here, so let’s make the most of it!”

Rangi stood in the middle of the staircase, just out of sight from the kitchen. Unsure of what to do. On one hand, she was annoyed that her hunch was right, and Kyoshi was still down there. But on the other hand, she wondered if Kyoshi was going to join in. If she was going to sing. What her singing voice sounded like. What she was going to sing about. 

She stood there, heart thrumming in her chest to the beat of the kitchen appliances.

“I’ve got two knives that are cast in bronze / they pierce all the way to the soul / they draw you in with the promise of sin / like the moth to the flame to the coal.”

Rangi’s eyes widened as she heard Kyoshi’s singing voice for the first time. It was such a lovely alto. Her voice was smooth, strong and rich. 

The kitchen howled. Someone clucked in disapproval. “Keep going, you naughty girl!” a voice shouted.

Oh, right, she supposed she should be listening to the lyrics. She shook her head, as much as she’d love to listen to Kyoshi’s voice. The song itself might give her an indication on if Kyoshi liked someone.

Let’s see, something about bronze and fire? Rangi’s heart leapt at the thought of the second description, but tapered it down. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself. 

“I’ve got hair like the starless night / it sticks to my lips when I smile / I’ll wind it with yours and we’ll drift off course / in a ship touching hearts all the while.”

Kyoshi drummed on, more percussion started filling the air. And Rangi’s heart started to pound harder. Starless night. Black. A hand flew to her chest. Ok, now she couldn’t stop from getting ahead of herself. There were only a handful of people on the estate that had black hair, and she was one of them. 

“For the way I walk is a lantern lit / that leads you into the night / I’ll hold you close and love you the most / until our end is in sight.”

Rangi could feel the blood pounding in her ears, she could feel the blush covering her body. She knew she was beat red. Black hair, fire, light. Entangled hair. Wanting to hold and love them. Rangi leaned against the wall for support, and prayed. Prayed to every spirit imaginable. Prayed to every Avatar. Prayed that the person Kyoshi was talking about was her. Was Rangi. 

“It’s Rangi!” someone shouted. Rangi nearly leapt out of her skin. She stumbled back a few steps, fearing someone saw her. 

I thought I was out of sight!

“It is Rangi!”someone else cooed, the sound of kissing noises were heard.

“W-where?” Kyoshi asked, alarmed.

“Not in here, idiot!” a male voice said. “In your song! Just admit it, you just sang about Rangi.”

Rangi feared she was going to go into cardiac arrest. So she wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t the only one who saw the resemblance between her and Kyoshi’s song. Now, would Kyoshi admit it? Should she admit it? What should Rangi do if she did?

A million questions spiraled in her mind. 

What she wanted to do right then and there was run down there and…. Take Kyoshi right where she stood? Take her hand and run off with her? Both? 

Rangi drew a breath as quietly as she could. At some point she’d forgotten how to breathe. No, no, she couldn’t act brashly. Kyoshi had to confirm. And….there were other obstacles Rangi may have to overcome if Kyoshi did confirm. 

Rangi, and the rest of the staff waited for Kyoshi’s answer.

“I-I, uh, I,�� Kyoshi started. 

Did Kyoshi not mean to sing about Rangi? Did the kitchen staff guess wrong? Did Kyoshi think no one would be able to guess it was about Rangi? 

The wait was killing her.

“I, uh, I have to go get ready for my gifting duties,” Kyoshi said hurriedly, and the sound of movement could be heard.

Rangi jumped and sprinted up the stairs as fast as she could. She quickly ascended the stairs, scratching and clawing on all fours, unable to keep her balance. Surely she was not as silent as she’d wanted to be. As soon as she got to the top she dove through the open window on the other side of the hall from the stairs without thinking. 

She landed in the bushes, and sat there, under the windowsill out of view. Her hand over her mouth to stifle any noises. She heard Kyoshi finish ascending the staircase, and then run in the direction of her room.

Rangi sat there for a moment, trying to catch her breath, and to cool her features off. She didn’t need to be walking around with her face flushed the same color as her red armor.

She placed her forehead on her knees and breathed. She likes me? Does this mean she likes me? She thought to herself, unable to stop the hope rising in her chest. 

For the past two years she’d resigned herself into thinking Kyoshi wouldn’t like her back. That her crush would go unanswered. So this hope was dangerous, if she completely gave in then…. What if Kyoshi still didn't like her? What would she do then?

Rangi took a few more calming breaths, and then slapped her own cheeks. She needed to calm down. She had duties to attend to!

…but first, she should probably go wash her face in her room. The water might help cool it off.

She scrunched up her face into the signature Sei’naka- or maybe it was just the Fire Nation?- stoic look. No one would be able to tell what she was thinking if she kept it like this. 

She made sure now one was looking before she escaped out of the bushes, and ran to her own room.

________________

Rangi ran the cool towel over her face, it warmed almost instantly at the contact of her skin. She repeated the process about a dozen or so times until her reddened face had finally calmed down. 

She grabbed a nearby dry towel and dried her face off. When she finally pulled it away, she began inspecting her appearance in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, so she fixed it. Trying not to think of the lyrics.

She inspected her skin, it was back to the normal pale it usually was, only a slight red hue scattered across it. Her fingers brushed at her neck, then her jaw, then her cheeks and then they froze. Her gaze lingered on her eyes. Her bronze colored eyes. 

“I’ve got two knives that are cast in bronze / they pierce all the way to the soul”

Rangi gasped, and pressed the towel into her face again. As if the pressure could stop the lyrics from forming in her mind. 

Kyoshi had been singing about her eyes. No! No, she needed to think rationally. Kyoshi might’ve been singing about her eyes. Might!

 “They draw you in with the promise of sin / like the moth to the flame to the coal.”

Rangi let out a muffled scream into the towel, her flush coming back red hot. Did Kyoshi really say her gaze was sinful? 

Have I been too obvious? Please tell me I haven’t been too obvious!

She thought about every longing look she thought she snuck and it caused her to do a little dance of embarrassment. Which led to her tripping over her own feet, and falling backwards onto the floor. 

Rangi’s face was still in the towel as she screamed and cringed into it with each memory that passed in her mind; kicking her legs on the floor all the while. It was a pathetic sight. If anyone were to walk in, that might be the final blow to her ego. She may never recover. Thankfully, there was nary a person in the estate that would just barge into Rangi’s room unannounced.

Rangi heard her door slide open with a click.

She slowly removed the towel to see a pair of familiar boots.

She looked up at her mother with absolute dismay. If anyone could or would see Rangi at her lowest and most vulnerable, her mother would always be there with a front row seat. 

Hei-Ran gazed down at her daughter with a deep frown. “What on earth are you doing?”

Breaking down. She thought. Rangi did her best to screw her face back into a stoic expression, the flush be damned. She stood up straight, inhaled, ready to give the excuse of her life. 

She exhaled…..and stared at her mother.

She had nothing. No excuse existed in this world that could’ve explained such disappointing behavior. It’d be better if she told her mother the truth, but she’d never do that. She feared what her mother might say or do if she mentioned her crush on Kyoshi.

Instead, she kept the staring contest up with her mother, until Hei-Ran finally broke it by pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, nevermind. I don’t think I want to know,” Hei-Ran conceded. Rangi was going to leave the biggest and bestest offering for the spirits when she had time. 

Rangi cleared her throat. “What brings you to my room, mother? Shouldn’t you be with Yun?”

Hei-Ran sighed, “Yes, but we are taking a break. However, it appears he wants his break extended. It seems he galavanted off somewhere.”

Rangi nodded. That sounded like her Avatar.

“And I was wondering if his bodyguard would know where he was,” Hei-Ran glared at her daughter.

Rangi stiffened. She’d been neglecting her duties for the day. To be fair, she didn’t necessarily have to bodyguard Yun when he was in the presence of his Sifus, but still. She was slacking.

“I’ll go and fetch him,” Rangi said with a bow.

“Good,” Hei-Ran replied, turning on her heel to leave. 

As she exited the door, a group of servants passed her room in the hall. “Did you see the Avatar?”

“Yeah I saw him on his way to the gifting room, you know where Kyoshi is!”

“How scandalous-Hey!”

Rangi practically barreled into her mother and the other maids as she passed, face pale in distress.

_____________

No! No no no no! Not the gifting room! Not those two alone!

Rangi’s mind was now screaming as she sprinted through the estate, she didn’t care if she looked like a spirit out of hell. She had to get to the gifting room, stat!

She was having a possibly amazing day, she didn’t need it to be ruined by the memories from around eight months ago. When she last left Yun and Kyoshi in a room together, alone. How they looked at each other. How Kyoshi sprinkled Fire Lilies over Yun’s face. How they….kissed. Or, almost kissed? Rangi didn’t know, she didn’t stick around to watch.

Rangi rounded the corner, she was running at the door with a full sprint. Body ready to catch them in the act this time, mind not as prepared.

She reached the door, stopped just in time, and slid the door open with a smooth click. 

She gazed at the two in front of her. Kyoshi and Yun were a respectable distance apart. Nothing nefarious happened this time. She sighed inwardly, and then remembered to keep her face in its stoic placement. She didn’t trust her real emotions at the moment. 

"Avatar." She bowed deeply and solemnly to Yun. Then she turned to Kyoshi, Kyoshi appeared more sullen than usual. “And you! You’ve barely made any prog-”

Rangi cut herself off and tore her eyes away from Kyoshi, looking around the room. Her eyes widened a bit. “Oh….it’s…. actually almost done.” She wasn’t expecting that….

Almost all the presents were in neat little piles, all that needed to be done was transfer them.

“I got here early….” she heard Kyoshi muttered. She wouldn’t look at Rangi at all. 

Rangi could feel her pulse race. Is it because of the song she sang? Is it true? Or is she just self-conscious because the kitchen staff had teased her? Questions began to fill Rangi’s mind once again.

“Yeah Rangi,” Yun laughed. “This is Kyoshi we’re talking about, how dare you question her skill of working fast and efficiently?”

Rangi turned on her heel to face the Avatar, glaring at him. He was throwing her under the bus in front of Kyoshi! Again! “D-don’t put words in my mouth! I simply thought due to the volume that came in, and the fact you are skipping training to be a distraction, she may not have gotten as far as she did.”

“Well, I left the kitchen as soon as possible and got to work, just like you wanted,” Kyoshi mumbled. 

Rangi looked back, and Kyoshi had a slight glower on her face. She could feel her palms getting sweaty. Had Rangi upset her? Had she been upset before Rangi arrived? More millions of questions flew through her mind. Too many, she didn’t know which ones to ask first.

Kyoshi looked back at them, eyes widened a little, and then scratched her nose in embarrassment. “Did I say something wrong?”

Rangi stared at Kyoshi, trying to read her but found it too difficult. She looked down at her feet in defeat.  “No… it’s just….” Do you like me? Do you hate me? Do I upset you? So many questions.

“I think Kyoshi’s just a little nervous,” Yun announced.

Was it because of the song? How did he know about it? Did gossip already spread? Wait, if he knows about it then-

“I just asked her to join the Fifth Nation signing and she agreed to go,” he continued calmly.

Rangi’s train of thought came to a crashing halt when she heard him finish his sentence. Kyoshi was…..coming with them? To the daofei meeting. Sweet, innocent, never seen combat before, Kyoshi. She was going to go to a possible battleground. A war. A maid who has never held a weapon in her life, and might have to fight to the death. Her Kyoshi.

Rangi turned on Yun, glaring at him with the heat of a thousand suns. “Wh-what?! What do you mean she’s going?!”

“I was going to tell you,” Yun smiled, putting his hands up in surrender. 

Rangi spluttered and looked between Yun and Kyoshi. Why wasn’t Kyoshi saying anything? Did he pressure her into it? Was she stupid?! Did she not realize how dangerous this was? 

“Have you lost your mind? The both of you? She’s not going!” Rangi couldn’t believe she had to say those words aloud.

“Are you going against your Avatar’s wishes?” Yun grinned at her, his tone was joking. He didn’t mean it. But it hit Rangi like she’d been run over by a komodo rhino. Because that’s exactly what she was doing. She was disobeying the Avatar, to keep the girl she was in love with from harm. “Calm down, it’ll be good to have her there.”

“Good for who?” Rangi groused. He was being selfish again, thinking only of himself and not Kyoshi’s well being. No she couldn’t assume that! He was the Avatar. The Avatar was always well meaning. Maybe he just….didn’t realize the risk? Yes, that’s what it was. She just needed to talk some sense into him!

She pressed a fist to her forehead and sighed. Then she glared at Yun and grabbed his sleeve. “We’re talking about this later. Right now, I’m taking you back to your training!”

She started to pull her charge towards the door.

“Gah! Rangi! Wait!” Yun bemoaned. 

Rangi practically threw the Avatar through the doorway in front of her, and then stopped with her hand on the doorframe. She looked back at Kyoshi. Kyoshi sat there with the same calm and beautiful, silent strength she knew the girl possessed. She didn’t want to see it destroyed by some daofei. She wanted her protected. She hated the idea of some dumb bullies harming the girl, but if that pirate laid a hand on her-!

Rangi gripped the doorframe slightly. She looked around the room, trying to find something for Kyoshi to do. “And you-! Clean-no. Just. Gah. Do whatever you were doing!”

Apparently she couldn’t find anything. So she just slammed the door behind her.

____________

Rangi was greeted by Kyoshi with a scream to the face. 

“I’m sorry,” Kyoshi gasped, looking sincerely apologetic. “You surprised me!”

Rangi began walking, indicating for Kyoshi to follow her. She would escort her to the next destination.

Rangi didn’t mind Kyoshi screaming like that, partially because it wasn’t the first time this had happened. In all honesty, Rangi brought it on herself, sometimes she was too stealthy……or Kyoshi was too absentminded. Another reason why she shouldn’t come.

Rangi seethed inside her head. Yun wasn’t listening to reason. He had it in his head that Kyoshi needed to come along. To remind him of the little people he was doing it all for. 

What a load of bull cow crap! He should be able to see that with the servants that work here every day! Or the villagers he sees when he sneaks a peak over the wall! He didn’t need to drag Kyoshi into it!

Kyoshi had already suffered enough growing up. At least, from what Aunti Mui had let slip to her about Kyoshi’s life before the mansion. Kyoshi didn’t need to be put into peril again, and she most certainly didn’t need to suffer an agonizing death at the hands of some daofei!

She just wanted Kyoshi to live a long and healthy life. But she couldn’t do that if she was dead!

Rangi looked up and realized they were somewhere in the garden. She didn’t notice how she got there, when they got there, nor cared. 

An idea passed through her head. If she couldn’t convince Yun, maybe she could convince Kyoshi.

“Kyoshi,” Rangi started, breaking the silence. She saw Kyoshi flinch out of the corner of her eye.

“Y-yes?” 

“You aren’t going,” Rangi said. Rangi tried to say it with a finality. Try to push Kyoshi into the same mindset as her. Whatever it would take to keep her safe.

Kyoshi sighed. “I don’t think I have a choice, Rangi. It’s a special request from the Avatar.”

Rangi stopped walking and turned to glare at Kyoshi. “Of course you have a choice! You just have to tell him you don’t want to! Just tell him ‘no,’ Kyoshi!”

Please, just for once. Don’t think of him. Don’t give in to him. Just tell him ‘no.’ Rangi sobbed internally. Lately, she couldn’t stop the thoughts she’d usually fought to ignore from bubbling to the surface. 

Kyoshi raised an eyebrow and gave her a joking smile. “And disobey the Avatar?”

Rangi stiffened. Yes. That’s exactly what she wanted. Every time she brought it up, it was another hit to her honor. Disobeying her honorbound duty. Each time she tried to find an excuse, to cover up her own horrid act and shame. “It’s not ‘disobeying’ if he gave you an option in the first place, right?”

“I don’t mind though,” Kyoshi said, smiling at Rangi. The same smile and expression she would make whenever she’d come home with dirty clothes and poorly covered bruises. When the other village teens had roughed her up or thrown mud and rocks at her. Rangi knew Kyoshi was lying, and it was making her sick to her stomach.

Kyoshi got closer to Rangi and whispered. “Plus he practically begged me. How could I say no?”

Rangi’s eyes widened. Is that it? Is that all? All Yun had to do was beg Kyoshi and he had her? A simple plea and she’d willingly give herself over?

Nausea started to take over and Rangi started feeling dizzy. It wasn’t fair. People took advantage of Kyoshi’s kind nature so often. And now she was marching herself to an executioner's block to unknowingly stroke Yun’s ego.

Rangi couldn’t have that. If she must, she’d stoop as low as those worms!

She saw Kyoshi had started walking and grabbed the girl by the arm, pulling her back.

“Then what about me, huh?” Rangi got in Kyoshi’s face. Her space. Trying to take up as much residency in Kyoshi’s being as possible. She only wanted the other girl to see her, only her, no one else. “What if I begged? What if I begged you not to come along? What would you do then?”

Would you afford me the same treatment as Yun? Would you give yourself to me too? Do I want you to? 

Rangi shook Kyoshi’s arm once and let her stoic mask crumple. She wanted Kyoshi to know how she truly felt. She wanted Kyoshi to realize someone cared about her. Wanted her to be safe. Not to run into danger because of some misguided duty. 

Rangi shook her arm again. “Please. Kyoshi, please don’t come with us,” she begged again. She’d beg as many times as it would take. 

Rangi watched as Kyoshi bit her lip and held the package she was holding tighter to her being. Recoiling from Rangi. 

She watched as Kyoshi went to form the words “I’m sorry” from her lips, before they got caught by the heat Rangi had started to form around them.

Rangi realized she couldn’t make Kyoshi do anything. Even Yun couldn’t make her do anything. Kyoshi was doing this because she chose to. Just like how she’d actively choose to not defend herself against her own bullies. 

Rangi was a fool, an idiot, to not see it before. Kyoshi had chosen and was doing what she wanted to do. In doing so, Rangi realized Kyoshi had also chosen Yun over her.

Rangi grimaced and released Kyoshi. “Forget it,” she said in defeat, as she walked away. If she couldn’t stop Kyoshi from going with them, then she’d need to find a way to protect her.

_____

A/N:Me: Rangi’s side is more serious! You need to treat it more seriously!Also me: Ok she’s kind of a loser, gotcha. TT0TT

 I love high blood pressure!Rangi, I love gremlin!Rangi. But lovesick!Rangi? Hmmm yes! *throws all three in a blender to mix them up* uwu

[alfiely-art]

FINISHED ACT 2!!!! I promise I'm taking my time

Act 1 live reaction here

Here are notes I took while reading!!!

Hi vagabond fella… you're cute

Huh. So the world ended. Okay

Happy birthday john, you fucked up!!!! My god!!!!

Oh interesting… wonder if the kernel will come back later

I like this sprite lmaoooo silly guy

“It's a long way down” Hey. Hey wait a sec. Isn't that deltarune

HEY THE BUNNY WHERE DID IT GO

Bro Rose probably thinks you're dead lmfaooooo

House trapped. LIKE THE TITLE HOMESTUCK DO U GET IT

Am I supposed to ignore the Stop Scurrying button btw. He will scurry to my hearts content

HEY WHERES DAD.

“Would you like to play a game?” C…caliborn….? :3

We scurried until we couldn't scurry anymore

Aw he's scared :( WALK ACROSS IT ur fine…

A voice?? Is it the blue text. The sprite

OMG ITS THE VAGABOND!!!!

Sorry rose I'm not reading allat

So wait. Did the game cause the meteors or is it just saving people from them. Why was there no warning

Betty crocker is born /j

Nvm sprite said No <3

NOT NANNAS ASHESSSSS LMAOOOO

“Hoo-hoo-hoo” HEY I SAW CALIBORN GIGGLE LIKE THAT IN A FIC. I know the Striders have more to do with Caliborn but let me reach

OH its the sprite

Dave. Honey. Nows not the time for your rap

Which admittedly has fun rhymes

AW FLUCK IT

Dave what are you yapping about

THE FUCKIHG CAR OH MY GOD

DAVE OH MY GOD HOW ARE YOU STILL GOING

Fluthlu… I love you

I'm not even gonna try to spell that but I like the other squid octopus creature as well

Oglogoth… goth !!!!

Hey wait. The horror terrors are part of sburb. Is the game influenced by their lives and interests. Like. Deltarune

OH PSYCHE!!! hi Dave

Sword!!!!!!

Wow your room is really mHEY I KNOW THOSE GUYS. THATS THE FELT GUYS. SQUAREWAVE AND RHE OTHER ROBOT. I KNOW THOSE ONES!!!!! OHHHHHH

Bleat like a goat and piss on your turntable

Oh Dave. Oh Dave

Hey wait is this earlier in the day.

Okay this is definitely earlier in the day

Aw. He doesn't wanna make satire of the sburb review

FUCK IM FALLING DOWN ALL THESE STAIRS……

Is that. John's hand???? what the fuck is happening in midnight crew

Flagrant Homosexuality

YOU CANT BE SAYING THAT WHITE BABY (I was told that they use slurs, slur count 2!!!!)

Her life depends on you playing that game Dave

Ewwww what's the shit under the door

It's okay Dave piss probably isn't that bad. It's also probably Apple juice You're fine

HE GOT PISS/JUICE ON HIS TURNTABLES NOOOOOO

. They're gonna fly out the window

OH MY GOD BIRD NO

Wait. Davesprite is a bird with a sword in him. Omg is that bird the beginning of Davesprite omg!!!!

Wizard

Rose and her mom are fucking weird

MOM!!!!!

Hardcore parkour

Jade be telling the future…. Why can she do that

LIL CAL MENTION

NARRATOR YOU CANT BE SAYING THAT (slur count: 3)

Ironic Indulgence

Btw. Are you able to. Win the strifes. I'm so confused

“Fine, you'll interrupt your reading and turn around, but you don't see what could possibly be so oh my god it's a monster.” Hi this is absolute gold this is how I type

John died :(

Yay he's alive!!!

YOOOOO SICKKKK AFFFFF MOVE

John is such a nerd I love him

JASPERS NOOO

Hi Nanna harlequin sprite

Dave is very suddenly creeped out by the puppets, okay. Don't diss Lil cal bro

Baked good hater for Life!!! Also I am just like John I have absolutely no idea what Nannasprite was talking about. We r along for the ride

HUMAN ETIQUETTE WOOOO I NEED THAY BOOK

Jade why do you know all this stuff

Haha Dave's an emoji

IS THAT A DRIPPED OUT SLAPPY

HI CAL HI BABYGIRL !!!! I like Cal he's the man

Sweet Bro n Hella Jeff is. I

Cals eyes are so shiny

HAHAHAHAH JOHN MADE A SWEET BRO AND HELLA JEFF REFERENCE. I can't

U and me both Rose. We Are giggling

John died again

What the fuck is happening at Dave's house

ROSE RAP ROSE RAP

WHSJSHSJSH THE LITTLE IMP????

What the fuck is happening

I WANT TO PLAY A GAME is this a caliborn reference. Anyway uhhh Bro is kinda weird what's going on with him

Why does he have a camera in the saw guy figurine. Bro. What's uh up with you

BRO REALLY IS A NINJA…. Whys he jusy moving Cal around

Dave. I know you said your Bro is awesome but I think he's just really weird. He's silly

I do think it's interesting. John doesn't like his dad even though his dad is great (worst thing is he ignores that his kid doesn't like betty crocker goods). Rose hates her mom, but.. for like, the wrong reasons?? Like yeah her mom’s an alcoholic and seems neglectful but she doesn't seem to do the Irony shit Rose says she does. And then Dave seems to think Bro is the absolute best even though. This is not a great situation. I wonder what Jade's family is like

Also John and Rose avoid their parents but Dave's Bro seems to avoid Dave. interesting

Anyway POOR DAVE HE GOT SMOOSHED

Hey that letter is the same as the one in the trans dirk comic I saw :0

NOOO I WANTED TO SEE BRO

Yoooo John that's a cool weapon actually

That's a big boy right there what a big boy

ROSE THE FIRE ITS AT UR WINDOW

YO WAS THAT SILHOUETTE JADE?!?!?! JADE YAAA

Big boy!!!!!!

HEY I WAS INVESTED IN SEEING JOHN FIGHT. Oh at least we can see Bro. Wait how's Rose

??? JADE???

OOP NOPE. VAGABOND

What the fuck is happening I

vagabond is so silly I like him

Hey guys I think a king hurt vagabond. Just a guess. Probably reaching idk /j

VAGABOND PISS SCENE ?!?!?! YIPPEE!!!

Oh nvm. Btw can we get this guy a burger

HES SO HAPPY OVER THE. idk what that is DANGANRONPA BLOOD IN A CAN!!!!!!

HEY WHAT THE FUCK ARE ON THESE SCREENS BTW. Wait I'm shouting so much. But what the fuck. Dave has his sprite??? Yay???? I thought he was gonna fight Bro??? What happened to Lil Cal???

Hey isn't that Jade's symbol on the pumpkin

Yooo that's such a cool cutscene actuHUH HOW IS IT THE END OF THE ACT AGAIN

The frick….

Anyway. Thoughts: I like Vagabond. Jade is mysterious. Dave gay. Bro creepy. Someone pls save Rose. John you gotta put your big boy pants on and fight those ogres. Good act!!! idk why people say the pre-trolls stuff is boring I'm enjoying myself

[rierice8]

can i ask for a maybe sub wanderer or Scaramouche smut? Amab reader pls

Scaramouche or wanderer help- I’m too used to calling him Scaramouche to change to wanderer haha! Also I’ve had my bf ask for Scaramouche smut too so I’m dedicating this to both you, anon and him lol. He’s too proud to admit to being a full time scara simp tho, loser.

Word count: 1524

Sub Scaramouche x dom male reader

NSFW under the cut!! Warning: Dumbification, pet play, size kink

Bark for me, darling

It's been a week since he’s been home and you were starting to get worried, where was he? You missed Scaramouche, of course, but knowing him, he could be dead in the middle of the forest right now. Tighnari might as well already be knocking on your door and handing you your boyfriend's dead body and you wouldn’t even be surprised. He has a lot of ex coworkers and one too many enemies. You know it comes with the territory of his old job and also with the nature of his sharp tongue. After he pulled that stupid god stunt too and got his anemo vision, he's been around less and less, so him disappearing was normal. Though a week is exceptionally long for him to be gone for.

All of a sudden a rustle at the door snaps you out of your thoughts. You turn your head towards the door as the jiggling continues. Eventually the door knob stops rustling and goes still. You raise an eyebrow and slowly stand up from your place on the couch. All of a sudden you hear an aggressive knock at the door in place of the fidgeting.

“Tighnari? Is that you coming to tell me Scaramouche died somewhere in a whither zone?” You teased, knowing exactly who was at the door already. You heard a loud scoff from outside the door.

“I wouldn’t ever die that easily, I’m not you, loser,” You heard Scaramouche curse from the other side of the door. You smiled.

“Oh Tighnari! I think I’m hearing the voice of my dead boyfriend! Please cure my hallucinations doctor!” You fake pleaded, putting a hand to your forehead dramatically.

“Go fuck yourself in a hole and fucking die you fucking absolute waste of fucking oxygen. Open the fucking door,” He said while banging at the door. You giggled at his vulgar language. You were glad he was back, you missed your lover. For more reasons than one. You opened the door slowly and dramatically before dramatically exclaiming,

“Oh mine! Is it really true? Is it possible? Scaramouche is that you!?” He just rolled his eyes and pushed his way inside. He headed straight for the bookshelf, pulled out a book and collapsed on the couch. He threw off his hat and immediately got comfortable, as if he had been there all week. This made you furious.

“Oh so this is what we’re doing now? We’re going to just leave for days on end with no warning nor explanation then totally ignore me and pretend like nothing happened? I was genuinely worried you were dead somewhere,” You told him, anger laced evidently in your words. Scara just looked at you with a blank expression before going back to his book.

“Hey, loser. I’m not dead, yay. Anyways piss off, will you? I’m trying to read,” Scaramouche said with a flat, monotone voice. You laughed, offended. Offended but not surprised, this is just how he acts. You walk over to him and snatch the book he was reading straight out of his hands before placing it on the coffee table in front of the sofa. He was about to say something probably extremely rude to you about taking his book but before he could speak you pushed him down on the couch and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he gasped but you stole his breath away again with another, more lustful kiss.

“Wh-what are you doing?” He said out of breath. You just smiled and ignored him. You gently ran your hands through his hair before grasping it firmly and looking at him with an angered expression.

“You really think I’ll just let you say that to me? ‘Piss off’ that's rich,” you said snarkily. He whined at how hard you were pulling on his hair.

“I mean yo-you deserve it anyways! Not like I owe anyone an explanation, especially you, you dumb whore,” Scaramouche said, desperately trying to regain whatever ego you were slowly taking from him.

“Me? A whore? For who, you? You’re the one panting lightly while I’m lying on top of you. You’re the one who got hard at me tugging on your hair, don’t think I didn’t notice. I’d honestly say that you’re the whore, Scara,” you whispered right into his ear. He moaned as you grinded on his clothed cock. You quickly started taking off his shirt, yours following not long after. You began kissing and sucking at his neck, trailing light kisses all along his neck and collarbone, even going down his abdomen, only ending when there was no more skin left for you to mark. You left small hickeys on his collar and sucked harshly at the skin on his neck.

“Haah…mmm!” Scaras moans ringed in your ears, propelling you to bite harder. You pulled away from his neck with airy pants.

“Oh? Enjoying yourself, bitch?” He grunted at that before grabbing a fist full of your hair and pulling you towards him.

“Not as much as you must be. You’re such a greedy, impatient slut when it comes to my silky skin, isn’t that right? What a fucking pretty sex toy you are, I don’t even have to do anything either cuz your so desperate,” Scaramouche said in an attempt to switch the roles of this predicament. You, in response, slapped him. He moaned loudly at that.

“My my, how about you shut up! What a bad boy you’re being. You know what bad boys get?” You laughed out. Scara was about to say something but you leaned your knee hard into his cock and instead of words he moaned again.

“Bad boys get punished. I know how much you love talking so, how about you don’t talk then? Today, you’re going to be my little pup, alright?” You smiled.

“Wh-what?! No fucking way I’m gonna-”

“Last time I checked, dogs can’t talk. Bark, bitch. Otherwise, I’ll let you get back to that book you were so desperate to read.” Scaramouche bit his lip hard. You were eyeing him down with a vile smirk, taunting him. He wanted to scream at you, but his cock was aching and he knew you were serious.

“…w-woof,” he barked out, ashamed. You smiled in approval.

“Good boy.” You said before reaching to take off his pants. You quickly undid yours too once his we’re already on the ground. His pretty cock standing upright, leaking precum from all the times you crushed the poor thing with your knee. You lent in and sloppily made out with Scara before giving him your fingers to suck, he quickly ran his tongue along them before sucking them fully. After he coated your fingers in his saliva you gently one by one stuck them both in his ass to stretch him out. You pumped your two fingers in and out of him slowly at first, so he could get used to it and also because he was clenching too hard for you to move any faster.

“Scara, loosen up. I can't move my fingers,” You said gently.

“I’m tr- ah…w-woof woof,” he said, turning his head away from you in shame. You could feel him trying to loosen himself and in turn thrust your fingers in faster and deeper.

“Ah! Mmm…nghh,” Scaramouche moaned at the sensation. Once you felt he was stretched enough you pulled out and used whatever slick was left over on your hand as lube. You aligned your cock at his entrance.

“I’m pushing in now,” you told him before doing exactly that. He cried out in ecstasy.

“A-ah!!”

Scaramouche moaned as your large size filled him to the brim. You smiled as you noticed the imprint your cock left in his stomach. You pushed down on it and Scara moaned twice as loud. You started thrusting in and out of his plump ass slowly. Scara looked as though he wanted to tell you to speed up but he knew you’d stop the moment words came out of his mouth. You started speeding up and Scaramouche only got louder and louder. His deep purple hair was tangled and his tongue lolling out of his mouth in an almost pornographic way.

“Mmm, ngh! W-woof!” Scaramouche cried out. You knew that even though he couldn’t talk, this was his way of telling you he’s close. You grunted, also feeling close.

“You can come when I come, alright?” You demanded while still slamming into him at an alarming rate. He just helplessly nodded his head. You could see the bulge in his stomach every time you thrust into him and then watched it disappear as you pushed in before doing the same thing again. You were close, really close. One final clench from Scaramouches ass sent you over the edge. You filled his ass with your cum and barely a second later Scaramouche came on his stomach. You started to pull out of Scaramouche and went to kiss his forehead. “You alright, love? You can talk now,” you said. Scaramouche did not respond, he just kept panting heavily. You smiled down at him, he’d fallen asleep.

“What a good boy, just for me,”

[linagram]

[ 𝙿𝚛𝚎-𝚃𝟹 𝚅𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙳𝚛𝚊����𝚊 #𝟶𝟷 ] 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚎

yay yay the verdict system reveal is here!

hopefully it all makes sense and is not too confusing... also please keep the ending of this voice drama in mind for the future :)

(the door opens)

Hinode: We're here.

Miki: S-sorry for being late!..

Hinode and Miki: ...

Hinode: Huh.. Maybe he's hiding somewhere?

Miki: W-why did he ask us to come anyway?

Hinode: Who knows. *sits down*  The third trial is going to start soon, so it's most likely related to that.

Miki: ".. The third trial.."

Hinode: Is something wrong, Miki-san?

Miki: .. It's just..

Miki: I can't believe we've come so far.

Hinode: Yeah.. You're so strong, you know that? I've joined you all very recently, but you've been here since the very beginning.

Miki: .. Eiji-san is very strong too. 

Miki: I hope he comes back soon.

Hinode: .. A-ah, right.

Jackalope: What, are you sad that such a pretty girl is ignoring your compliments?

Hinode: Ah, here you are.

Jackalope: Hm? No screaming this time?

Hinode: Well, I'm kinda used to your company and your sudden appearances, so..

Hinode: The only downside is that I have to try really hard not to sneeze because of my allergies, haha..

Miki: ...

Jackalope: Hey, Guard 002, is everything okay?

Miki: .. I don't think you're actually worried about me, so let's just get started, okay?

Jackalope: .. You've really changed, huh?

Miki: Please, just tell us why you've called us here-

Miki: .. I forgot your name.

Jackalope: *sighs* Fine, let's just get into it.

Jackalope: So. The third trial.

Hinode: (to Miki) Told you it's gonna be about that.

Jackalope: By the way, how has everyone been doing lately? I'm especially curious about the guilty prisoners, considering their punishments-

Miki: I'm sure you know everything already.

Miki: Innocent prisoners have started to feel better, thankfully, but the guilty prisoners..

Miki: Well, w-we had another suicide attempt and a lot of murder attempts as well..

Hinode: Honestly, I'm worried about some innocent prisoners too. They have been acting.. a bit suspicious lately.

Jackalope: Yeah, you all have a lot of work to do.

Jackalope: So, the reason why I have called you two here..

Jackalope: .. Do you already know how you're going to vote everyone this time?

Hinode and Miki: Huh?

Miki: Well.. We have to watch their videos first, right? That's how it's always been..

Hinode: Is it possible that this time our decisions will be especially important since it's the last trial?

Jackalope: All of your decisions are equally important, but I don't think you two realize that.

Jackalope: You don't know what is going to happen to the prisoners after this, right?

Miki: ...

Hinode: So, how exactly this trial's voting will go? Is there anything we have to know beforehand?

Jackalope: Well, first of all, you all have to know how Milgram's voting system works.

Jackalope: The prisoners have to go through three trials. They will be voted either guilty or innocent after each trial ends. 

Jackalope: Every single verdict matters. 

Jackalope: The prisoner's fate depends on the "combination" of verdicts they got.

Miki: !

Hinode: A combination?..

Jackalope: Let's go through all of the possible combinations, shall we?

Jackalope: Let's start with the best one!.. For the prisoner, that is.

Jackalope: What if a prisoner is so lucky that they end up getting not one, not two, but three innocent verdicts?

Jackalope: Well, first of all, they get to return home safely, so that's already good.. again, for them.

Jackalope: But wait, there's more! The prisoner also loses all memories of their murder and the same goes for everyone who was either related to that murder or heard about it.

Miki: Loses.. memories?

Jackalope: What, are you surprised? Come on, you have no right to say anything about this after punishing the guilty prisoners.

Jackalope: But yes, the prisoner and everyone around them forget about the murder completely! And not just about the murder, they forget that the victim even existed!

Jackalope: So yeah, all of their problems just get solved magically and they get to continue living their life peacefully.

Jackalope: Obviously, they won't remember anything about Milgram as well.

Jackalope: Now, let's see who has a chance to get three innocent verdicts..

Jackalope: Right now, Prisoner 002, Hanasaki Aimi, Prisoner 007, Yano Asahi, and Prisoner 010, Himura Reina, have two innocent verdicts.

Jackalope: So, do you think they deserve to live such a happy life?

Miki: "I'm not sure about Aimi-chan.. But maybe it really would be better for Himura-san to just forget about everything."

Miki: ".. I definitely want Marito to live a life like that."

Jackalope: There's also.. another thing that can happen to the prisoner that gets three innocent verdicts.. 

Jackalope: But we're not gonna talk about that. Basically, it's supposed to be a reward for them, haha.

Hinode: Hold on, what kind of reward-

Jackalope: Anyway, but what if the prisoner got only two innocent verdicts? Well, the order of those verdicts matters a lot.

Jackalope: For example..

Jackalope: If the prisoner got two innocent verdicts after the first or second trial and also got an innocent verdict after the third trial, they will be able to go back home and everyone around them will forget about the murder and the victim!..

Jackalope: .. But they won't.

Jackalope: The prisoner will still remember everything perfectly. They will remember their life in Milgram too.

Hinode: I see.. So it's like a punishment for them still getting a guilty verdict once?

Jackalope: Correct. It may sound good at first, like sure, nobody remembers about your murder except you, but..

Jackalope: .. If you still feel bad about it, well. Sorry about that.

Jackalope: Right now, Prisoner 001, Miyagawa Akio, Prisoner 003, Ishizu Shun, Prisoner 004, Chiba Naomi, Prisoner 005, Sanada Kei, Prisoner 006, Yoshioka Eiko, and Prisoner 009, Kuroki Riku, have a chance to go back home while still having memories of their murder, but otherwise being safe.

Jackalope: All of them have been voted innocent once, but also have been voted guilty once as well. Whether or not they get forgiven this time is your choice to make.

Miki: .. Hinode-san, do you think your brother should-

Hinode: .. I don't know. 

Hinode: Actually, maybe it would be better for him to just forget about his victim entirely.

Hinode: But that's not possible, considering his verdicts, haha..

Jackalope: Well, but what if you discover something truly horrible about that prisoner?

Jackalope: What if you thought someone this nice doesn't deserve to be in a place like Milgram, but then you watched their video and found out that they've done something disgusting and immoral?

Jackalope: This happens all the time here, trust me.

Jackalope: So, the prisoner who got two innocent verdicts after the first two trials, but got voted guilty in the end will be able to go back home..

Jackalope: Except they will get punished right before that and any wounds they got because of it won't be treated. Psychological damage also counts.

Miki: .. W-what?

Hinode: I'm sorry, but how is that supposed to work?

Jackalope: Well, for example, the prisoner may lose their arm or get shot, but we will still send them home.. except they will most likely bleed out on the way and when they get to finally see their family again, they will already be dead.

Hinode: By the way, how exactly the prisoners are going to be sent home? Do they just get teleported or-

Jackalope: Right now I'm supposed to tell you about the verdict system. Nothing else. 

Jackalope: The prisoners are the same: Hanasaki Aimi, Yano Asahi and Himura Reina have two innocent verdicts, but you can still vote one, two, or all of them guilty, if you so desire.

Jackalope: I wonder who's going to end up not so lucky this time..

Jackalope: And now, the worst option out of them all.. again, for prisoners.

Jackalope: Three guilty verdicts.. means death penalty. Simple as that.

Miki: D-death penalty?!

Jackalope: Come on, you thought everyone is going to make it out alive?

Hinode: But.. How exactly are they going to be executed?

Jackalope: I'm just going to say that it's going to depend on their crime and how they acted while staying in Milgram.

Jackalope: Right now-

Jackalope: *sighs* Well, we have only this loser. 

Jackalope: Prisoner 008, Maruyama Yurika. She got voted guilty twice.

Jackalope: She's cute, but.. She's been causing way too much trouble. 

Jackalope: So I won't judge you if you decide to vote her guilty again this time.

Miki: ".. Do I.. really want Maruyama-san to die?"

Jackalope: But what if our dear prisoner actually got lucky in the end?

Jackalope: What if they got voted guilty twice, but after the third trial, their sins finally were forgiven?

Jackalope: Well, they'll still have to stay in Milgram for some time. Three days, to be more exact.

Jackalope: And after that, they will be allowed to go home.. Unless..

Jackalope: .. If they do something that will leave us no other choice but to punish them again, they will get executed.

Jackalope: We shouldn't feel bad for them if they can't behave even for three days.

Jackalope: Oh, and obviously, they will still remember everything when they come back home. And so will the people around them.

Jackalope: They will still be a murderer. They will still be seen as one. They will still be punished as one, if they get caught.

Jackalope: .. This is the kind of fate that awaits Maruyama Yurika if you decide to forgive her.

Miki: "I wish I could forgive Maruyama-san, but.."

Miki: "After everything that happened, will she really be able to "behave"?"

Miki: "And also, if she just continues to do her job, she will most likely continue killing people as well."

Miki: ".. I guess I would forgive her if she did it only for the money, but.."

Miki: "I don't think that's the case."

Jackalope: So, what will happen to the prisoners who got voted guilty after the first or second trial and after the third trial, but still have one innocent verdict?

Jackalope: They will go home, sure. However..

Jackalope: When they come back, literally everyone will know they are a murderer.

Jackalope: So they will have no choice but to either let the outside world judge them or try to start a new life as a different person somehow.

Hinode: But.. How will everyone know that they were the one who did it? 

Hinode: And what if most people already knew about it, but still didn't do anything to stop them?

Jackalope: You really think we can't just tell the authorities about them? 

Hinode: But what if they won't believe you?

Jackalope: They will.

Jackalope: Right now, we have a lot of prisoners with at least one guilty verdict.

Jackalope: So, if Prisoner 001, Miyagawa Akio, Prisoner 003, Ishizu Shun, Prisoner 004, Chiba Naomi, Prisoner 005, Sanada Kei, Prisoner 006, Yoshioka Eiko and Prisoner 009, Kuroki Riku, get voted guilty this time..

Jackalope: This is what awaits them.

Miki: "Considering some of the crimes, I'm sure some prisoners would either get imprisoned for life.."

Miki: ".. or get a death penalty, just not in Milgram."

Jackalope: And.. Oh, I think that's all the combinations, actually.

Jackalope: So.. "All Innocent", "Trial 1 or Trial 2 Innocent and Trial 3 Innocent, but still one Guilty", "Trial 1 and Trial 2 Innocent and Trial 3 Guilty", "All Guilty", "Trial 1 and Trial 2 Guilty and Trial 3 Innocent", and "Trial 1 or Trial 2 Guilty and Trial 3 Guilty, but still one Innocent".

Jackalope: Choose wisely.. or don't. It's up to you.

Hinode and Miki: ...

Jackalope: Well, if you don't have any questions, I will be leaving-

Miki: Wait!

Miki: Will Eiji-san join us this time? Is he okay?

Jackalope: Ah, that guy..

Jackalope: Yes, he will. It's just that he won't interrogate the prisoners in person.

Jackalope: It's like him and Hinode have switched places, haha.

Miki: Thank God..

Jackalope: By the way, he already knows about the verdict system.

Miki: Huh?

Jackalope: I've told him earlier. I had to listen to him ramble about how his brother deserves to be executed in the most brutal way possible..

Jackalope: And to be honest, I'd love to see Prisoner 005's execution. I'm sure it would be a fun one..

Jackalope: Except that will never happen because he still got one innocent verdict. 

Jackalope: By the way, Miki..

Jackalope: .. Eiji wasn't happy to hear that you voted his brother innocent while he wasn't able to participate.

Miki:!

Hinode: Miki-san, are you okay?..

Miki: .. I..  

Miki: I forgot about that..

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

???: So, what did they think about the verdict system?

Jackalope: Well, they weren't exactly happy about it, but I'm sure they'll figure everything out.

???: I can't wait to see how the things will go when that guy returns.

???: But isn't his arm okay now? I'm sure he can interrogate them in person now.

Jackalope: Well, they can still touch him. 

Jackalope: And also.. It was Eiji's decision.

???: .. Interesting.

???: .. So he wants to show everyone how strong he is, but he's still too scared to even talk to them in person.

???: Haha.. Man, he really is pathetic.

Jackalope: He's still a murderer though, remember that.

???: Of course I remember. 

???: Seriously, the fact that we went and made murderers judge other murderers.. 

???: They even have all their memories intact. They know well that they are murderers, but they are still happy to judge people who are just like them.

???: Most likely because it makes them feel in control. It makes them feel like they're better than them. 

???: Sure, they are criminals, but they got this job. Not anyone else.

???: That must mean something, right?..

???: .. Haha. Well, let them enjoy this feeling while they can.

???: In the end, they will be judged as well.

[stillbreathing-aer]

do not speak to me. i am severely unwell.

[ashironie]

spoilers for tmagp ep 12. im making this on tuesday then relistening and adding more thursday.

i’ll be doing 2 in front of every thought i had on my second listen

Alex doing the title card? maybe a norris case? mayhaps?

2 Is getting of in relation to the bonzo lap dance turned dismemberment?

oh god.. first ep without a transcript… what the actual fuck are they saying

2 Oh thank god i have the transcript… sam actually got some rizz

celia and sam in the off room? i assume that’s why it’s so FUCKING ECHOY

2 Panting? man this guy is out of shape

2 awwww i kinda heard this part my first listen through </3. Alice unrequitedly loves Sam and Sam unrequitedly love Celia who unrequitedly loves Lena who unrequitedly loves Gwen who unrequitedly loves Alice (i don’t ship half these but it is funny to joke about imo)

2 SAM IS SUCH A CHARMER I NO LONGER WANT HIM TO DIE FIRST (sorry colin, looks like your up, and so is your time)

awwww, celam fans are gonna eat good with this one

my headphones are also broke so i can’t hear jack

ALICE YAY!!!!

2 something about alice makes tmagp 10x more understandable

aw but you love him for it :7

SHE IS JEALOUS!!!

he is so not over the institute, sam and alice are alike like that, he’s not over tmi she’s not over him

awwww alice stop being such a pessimist! like please do say it, i want sam to get out of this bullshit alive as much as you but like… yk

2 OH MY GOD “im sure celia would just love that” SALT IN THE WOUND SAM SALT IN THE WOUND!!! SHES IN LOVE WITH YOU YOU IDIOT DONT TALK ABOUT YOUR CRUSH IN FRONT OF HER!!!!

NORRIS!!! I WAS RIGHT!

norris sounds so robotic, i think i even heard him skip a bit. it’s either jonny is too much of a theater kid, or this is actually important to the lore. norris being less human, sounding less emotive, maybe a bit sad? hm? maybe a bit lonely?

2 the skip is on the words “Policy Number: 548651-656” and on “2024” or more specifically the numbers, which isn’t important in don’t think, but really does remind me of tts

fraud?? ooooooOooooOOOOooooo

ha “acting in good faith”

2 love the way Alex says dickheads, it’s so specific and so pointed

hey i know what a stag is!! i watch a british bitch give one to a 70yo! (its a bachelor(ette) party, im pretty sure)

a lunch box? OH MY GOD BONZO! IS IT BONZO OH MY GOD BONZO?

2 don’t you DARE insult my dear dear comic sans

YES BONZO!!! MR BONZOS ON HIS WAY HE WANTS TO STAY HE WANT TO PLAY!!!

wait why does lena want him murdered?

YES IT WONT TURN OFF!!!

wait cheer?

ew, i hate bonzo

ew…

HUG IT WHY ARE YOU HUGGING IT?

ohhhhh it looks not bad

JOEYS BOOTS????

OH MY GOD IS THAT WHO LENA WANTS DEAD?

OR THAT GUY WHOS STAG IT IS

2 “Just then the googly eyes turned to me,” im sorry but that will never not be funny. i am both disgusted by bonzo and think everything he does is hilarious.

oh god

ewwwwww

WHY ARE THEY LAUGHING? oh they didn’t know

wow dude i feel like that’s overkill bonbon

dut do

why is this SO visiral?

2 ugghhh i love the voice acting

His teeth are not soft

alex saying “bonzo…? bonzo bonzo?” is absolutely hilarious (although i don’t think it can top jonny’s “baaaaa”)

“none of us were left whole” WOW DUDE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKIN HAND?

AW SHIT

YEAH SUE EM! SUE EM TO HELL!

GWEN!

HAHA ALICE YES

AHHHH DYHARD MOMENT DYHARD MOMENT!!!

ALICE WAS SERIOUS!!!!

ALICE IS TRYING TO COMFORT GWEN AWWWWWWWW!!!

SERIOUS TALK!

THAT LITTLE GWEN LAUGH!!!!!

I WAS SO SCARED WE WOULDNT SEE GWEN

awww gwen getting her hopes up that alice isn’t fucking with her, so cute

YES!

[baileypie-writes]

Hello! is it too late to submit a request? I keep forgetting to ask this one, but I was wondering if you could write about a platonic reader + Twilight from Princess Precure as the reader's wingman/wingwoman/wingbestie or something- ya know, just the reader being Twilight's bestie but also she's their wingbestie who sometimes calls her for silly stuff- I hope that makes sense and if it's too much to ask, I'm sorry! Also here's a Twilight photo so you don't gotta search for one!

I'm obsessed with her plz help lol /j

A/N ~ Sure! I unfortunately couldn’t save the image provided, but I was able to find another one, so it’s okay:) Also, I hope I used the “wingbestie” term correctly. I’m not too familiar with the term haha. Hope you enjoy!

~Wing-Bestie~

Twilight + GN!Villain!Reader

~~~🎻~~~🎻~~~🎻~~~

Fandom: Go! Princess Precure

Fanfic Type: Oneshot

Reader: Gender neutral, a villain

Relationship: Platonic

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,422

Synopsis: Twilight was ordered by her mother not to leave the castle. Though, being a good friend, you helped her sneak out.

Warnings: Mention of the possibility of Dyspear destroying Reader, kind of abrupt ending

~Masterlists~

~Go! Princess Precure Masterlist~

~~~🎻~~~🎻~~~🎻~~~

As you wondered through the dark palace, your annoyance only became more definite. The one person you were looking for was nowhere to be found. In fact, it seemed as if the only times you couldn’t find her was when you actually needed her. Her mysteriousness could be highly inconvenient sometimes.

Though to your relief, the start of a somber, lonely violin solo began echoing throughout the halls. You followed the sound, almost as if the music notes created a physical trail for you to follow. Soon enough, the song led you to a large, open room. There, standing in the center, under a large crystal chandelier, was Twilight.

She continued playing, her bow moving in a perfect, natural fashion, almost as if the song was playing her. You knew she knew you were there. She always did. Though you didn’t mind being ignored. It was always a pleasure to hear her breathtaking violin skills.

After the song concluded, you gave her a round of applause. She lowered her bow, while keeping the instrument tucked under her chin. She gently lifted her dress a bit, giving a tiny curtsy. “What is it you need me for, (name)?” She asked after coming back up.

“Aw, c’mon Twi. Don’t you think it’s kinda rude to assume I only come to you when I need something?” You laughed, acting hurt.

“I’ve told you before to not call me that. If you wish to refer to me, use my full name.” She said, lowering her violin to rest at her side.

“We’re friends, aren’t we? A lot of friends have nicknames for each other. You can make up one for me!”

“I refuse. And again, call me ‘Twilight’.”

“Aww, you’re no fun.” You slumped. But you knew she could’ve been meaner. Not too long ago, she completely denied the idea of being friends. So you at least had that.

“I still suspect that you need something from me. If you don’t tell me now, I’ll be going.” Twilight turned her back to you, preparing to leave the room.

“Okay, you got me.” You laughed. “I was wondering if you’d wanna come to summon a Zetsuborg with me?

She sighed. “I suppose. I will have to get my mother’s approval though.”

“Yay!” Your excitement was through the roof. Twilight usually didn’t agree to leave the castle with you. However, your victory was short lived.

“But Mother-“ Twilight said, but was cut off.

“No buts. I said I don’t want you going out today. Don’t make me say it again.” Dyspear said, her calm face contrasting with her chilling voice.

Twilight sighed. “Yes Mother. I’m sorry.” She then walked away, hiding her annoyance and disappointment. “Sorry (name). We can’t go.” She told you once she left the room.

“Aw darn. Why is she so controlling all the time?” You rolled your eyes.

“She’s just trying to protect me. Though I admit it can get overbearing at times.”

“Well…” You gave a mischievous look.

“What are you planning?” Twilight said, already sensing a bad idea.

“I could sneak you out.” You offered.

“No way. My mother would know.”

“Not if we’re careful! And we won’t be gone long!” You pleaded.

Twilight crossed her arms in thought. Her eyes closed her a few moments, and then she sighed. “Alright. But if we get in trouble-“

“-all the blame will go to me!” You finished the sentence for her.

She cracked a small smile, and you swore you heard a chuckle. “Well then, shall we go?”

You nodded, then snapped your fingers, summoning a keyhole shaped portal. You looked to your left, then your right, before taking her hand. “Okay, quickly!” You then both jumped into the portal.

When you reached the other side, you were on the rooftop of Noble Academy, the Pretty Cure’s school. You immediately began scanning the area below you, looking for a victim.

As if she read your mind, Twilight began looking as well. It didn’t take long before she pointed to a girl next to a flower bed. “How about her?”

“She looks interesting! Thanks Twi!” You said. Twilight simply rolled her eyes at hearing her disliked nickname.

With a snap of your fingers, you teleported a few feet above the girl. “Hey! Lemme see that dream of yours!” You demanded.

“Huh? Who are you?” The girl asked. But no answer was given. You took a glimpse inside the girl’s dream. She held up a unique looking flower, while everyone around her cheered. The words “I wanna breed a new type of flower!” echoed in the picture.

“Huh, what an interesting dream. Too bad it’s mine now.” You said in a teasing tone. “Go forth, Zetsuborg!” You commanded. A lock wrapped around the dream, and took the form of a giant, thorny flower. The girl was then put in a cage that suspended in the air. “Go on, Zetsuborg! Have some fun!” You told it. It did as it was told, firing giant thorns from its body. All the nearby students began screaming and running away. With a chuckle, you turned to Twilight. “And now, we wait.”

“Do you think you’ll defeat the Pretty Cure this time?” She asked.

“Eh, not sure. But I don’t really care about that right now. I’m more in it for the fun!”

She simply hummed, and continued watching the chaos unfold.

~~~~

Unfortunately, your fun didn’t last long. The Princess Pretty Cure defeated your Zetsuborg in no time, freeing the dream from your grasp. “Darn. Oh well.” You shrugged. “C’mon Twi, let’s-“ A sudden voice in your head interrupted your sentence.

“(name), Twilight, see me immediately.”

It was Dyspear. And from the town of her voice, she was not happy.

“Mother…” Twilight whispered to herself, implying that she heard it too.

“Hey, it’s okay! Remember, I’m taking all the blame!” You placed a hand on her shoulder as an attempt to comfort her. Though, she didn’t seem convinced.

A portal sent the two of you back to the castle in no time. As expected, you could tell Dyspear was furious, even though her face appeared neutral. “Twilight, I believe I told you that you were not to leave the castle today.” Her voice was eerily calm.

“I know mother, but-“ Twilight began, though you cut her off.

“Dyspear, if I may. I was the one who took her out. I wanted to summon a Zetsuborg, and thought it would be good for her if she watched. Y’know, to get some experience. It was truly my fault. I’m very sorry.” You got on your knees, bowing lowly.

Dyspear hummed, and tapped her fingernail on the armrest of her throne. “Whether your intentions were good or not, you convinced my daughter to disobey my orders. And on top of that, you failed to defeat the Pretty Cure. So I’m sure you’re prepared for a punishment.”

“Yes, your majesty.” You remained bowing.

~~~~

Your punishment was surprisingly not too harsh. You were simply temporarily banned from going out and creating Zetsuborgs. You were also not allowed to be around Twilight for a while.

You were simply amazed that your life was spared. Though, you knew that Twilight most likely had something to do with it. And for that, you were eternally grateful.

A knock came from your bedroom door, so you went to see who it was. A piece of paper was slipped under it, so you picked it up. It was a note.

“Dear (name),

I’d like to sincerely thank you for taking all the blame. It was very kind of you. In return, I had convinced my mother to spare you.

You’re surprisingly enjoyable to be around, so I figured keeping you around would be better than having you destroyed.

I await for more of your ideas after your punishment has ended.

~ Your friend, Twi”

You were ecstatic at her note. Not only did she admit to being your friend, but she used her nickname! You hastily looked around for a piece of paper, eager to write her back.

“Dear Twi,

Thanks for getting me out of trouble! I guess we’re even now!

But I’ll still always be there for you. I’m your wing person and best friend. Your ‘wing-bestie”!

~ (name)”

You slid the note under your door, and eagerly waited. The clicks of heels signaled that Twilight was there again, and just a few moments later, another paper was given to you.

“Dear (name),

I appreciate your loyalty.

But please don’t use the term ‘wing-bestie’ ever again.

~ Twi”

~~~🎻~~~🎻~~~🎻~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[guiltycorp]

Not that i mind but i wonder if some changes to the shown dynamic were purposeful? The ending especially showed a lot of Gojo's regard for Geto, it was very cute (although I did think that Geto's depressive state in it would influence anime-onlys to see him as this typical brooding teenager who is annoyed by Gojo... and also im still certain that Geto showing middle finger in the group photo wasn't really in character for him). The lyrics of the opening and ending also add a lot of context for sure!

Then in the last episode they did a great job of adapting Gojo's emotional reaction, going even further with the excellent voice acting, erratic movements and bleeding from clenching his fist too hard... And of course the ambiguous redness under his visible eye after the dream, i'm sure we aren't going to get any confirmation whether it's from tiredness or tears (or allergies, or artstyle) but the implication alone is enough.

But!! At the same time in that final episode they chose to downplay the scenes where Geto mentioned Gojo before defection. And they didn't erase those moments but instead chose not to show his face fully.

It's like... His last hidden warmth towards Gojo, only shown to the manga readers. I'm not sure what the animation team's intent might have been with this, but I have to say - to me the manga had felt more ambiguous in regards to their relationship, their emotional states and feelings remained mostly subtextual (and i don't only mean the romantic overtones but just specifically Gojo's attitude towards Geto in the backstory). Meanwhile the anime chooses to focus a little more on Gojo's appreciation for Geto, clarifying a lot of things on his end but leaving Geto's side of things a biiiit less apparent? Which might in the end be for the best in order to make the sealing moment unambiguous. As it is, it was easy to interpret Gojo's fatal hesitation as an understandable shock at seeing a person from his past that he had killed. One could imagine him reacting the same way to Toji, for example. This way, however, Gojo's feelings will be clear. Also, I do remember how before s2 a lot of people claimed that Gojo didn't care whatsoever, citing that as the reason he had missed all the signs and why he 'had no problem' killing Geto in jjk0 (as if he hadn't avoided it to the last possible moment). So I believe it's very important for the audience to see that Gojo absolutely did care, and their sincere friendship just wasn't enough to overpower the messed up world they were living in, at least not without Gojo understanding that the system required change (which he didn't fully get until after Geto snapped, and even then... haha...). This in my view makes for a more complex narrative than just Gojo being a narcissistic person without personal attachments? It wasn't a one-sided narrative, both of them really were friends and liked each other outside of just going on missions together, it just wasn't enough. Anyway yeah, it feels like the anime showed a bit less of Geto's POV when it came specifically to Gojo, but we got more of Gojo's emotions in return, so yay!

[tae-rambles]

OP ch 1124 SPOILERS

my reaction as i read:

first, disclaimer, i was spoiled that Kizaru cries this chapter and it's apparently very sad. honestly, unless it's revealed that Vegapunk told him he had a plan to die sometime during those two weeks before the incident, i don't think i'll feel much sympathy for Kizaru, but we'll see... i also wonder if that's what the title is referring to - the relationship between Kizaru and Vegapunk

the cover story is taking an interesting turn... will Yamato pursue the criminal? will he befriend the woman? maybe Yamato will gain a harem of female lovers like Oden? that would be fun

Morgans' reaction is v unsurprising; Vivi is a badass like always and the two sapphics in the background are still cute :D but sorry girls, Vivi's already taken (NamiVivi for life)

i mean... Wapol is kinda right but shut up

Vivi i love youuuu!!!!!! anyone who hates you is a red flag honestly

of course Morgans would pin it on Luffy - no surprises there

yay! Sentomaru got away! :D it seems like Kizaru let him? where will he go, i wonder... the closest safe place that we know of is Elbaf or one of the next islands the log pose points to? the net cover story will focus on him?

also impressive he didn't pass out from the haki blast! maybe it somehow knew Sentomaru was an ally? can a haki blast do that? i mean... it's a manifestation of it's user's will... but whose will? it was Joyboy's haki but Emet was the one to unleash it so which one of them decided whom to spare? however, Joyboy's dead so it must have been Emet who controlled it but is it possible to control another person's haki aka will? one can use observation haki to sense intent and emotion. could Joyboy implement that into the haki bomb to make sure it doesn't hurt friendly forces? i have so many thoughts...

hehe Akainu will not be happy

yep, the title refers to Kizaru and Vegapunk...

Vegapunk went straight to the point, huh? lol

wow, he shut Akainu up lol

but honestly, Kizaru did this to himself. he's strong enough to rebel but it's more comfortable to stay a cog in the machine... he chose comfort over his "best friend" - you can actually compare him to Vivi this chapter - it would be safer for her to stay silent yet she raises her voice against injustice while Kizaru is here crying and pitying himself while being physically completely safe. i understand it's hard for him and that if it wasn't Kizaru, it would be somebody else. but maybe if he had rebelled and used his strength to protect Vegapunk, there would be no "somebody else"... so what i'm saying is: he definitely did not "have to kill his best friend"

Luffy must be taking this hard... especially since he befriended Atlas... i feel so sad for him

Franky's right... but Zoro, c'mon... i know you're trying to play up the tough guy act to stay alert to keep everybody safe and expect the same from your captain but give him a breather

Lilith... :(

that's a good question, from whom did she hear about it? is maybe Edison still alive? maybe he just disconnected from the Punk Records to make it look like he's dead? i mean... i wouldn't be surprised, this is One Piece after all...

HUH??? ok, i have my theory about how the Vegapunks can still be technically alive - Punk Records is still functioning after all and the question of what it means for Vegapunk to die did come up a couple of times so it's not too out of left field but i'm gonna keep reading for now...

ah... so we're not getting the full explanation now... dammit

but now we can have the mandatory banquet at the end of the arc :D (i have a post that's a response to an ask in the works - that's already taking way too long sorry - that's gonna touch on this more so i'm not gonna dwell on it now)

and Robin's also feeling better :D

kampai! :D

"the fabled country of Elbaf" haha i see what you did there

and another mysterious silhouette to close the chapter...

it was a good chapter :D nothing groundbreaking but that's what's needed after all that craziness lol though i was hoping to see what's up w Stussy but oh well...

Egghead was the first arc a read weekly and it was a wonderful experience so i'm hyped to see what Elbaf will bring :D i already posted my thoughts and predictions here