#I already couldn't from when I was complaining and then I liked 2 drawings from someone who was very good at drawing cubes in perspective.

[loveletterworm]

Minecraft skin I made as a commission for my friend @microwave-kid the prompt was "Generic minecraft girl skin but the head is a minecraft dispenser". There were some tribulations fitting the dispenser face onto a square the size of a minecraft skin's head but we got there

[bandgie]

Who Dun It?

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

warnings! MDNI18+, fingering!!, (rough/soft) clitplay!!!, poly!skz, 4/8skz, hyung-line, slight mindbreak/subspace, super slight PIV

synopsis: After vowing to find the stranger who was tragically ripped away from you that unfortunate night, your simple plan turns messy when eight men claim to be the one you're looking for. Seven are surely lying, but what's the harm in indulging in all of them?

2.9k words

The cushions of the couch mold the shape of your body as you sit upon it. You find yourself picking at the loose strings anxiously, staring at the eight men who argue amongst themselves.

"He's lying!" It's Hyunjin who's shouting, a finger pointing at his younger frat brother. "He wasn't even there that night! He told me he had an essay due and couldn't come!"

Seungmin, as stoic as ever, rolls his eyes. "I finished early. I said that, like, 10 times. Are you stupid or something?"

It looks like Hyunjin might burst a vein from his neck, but Chan, the president of the frat, places a hand on Hyunjin's slender shoulder. "I don't think yelling will get us anywhere. Seungmin was there; He was fashionable late." He flashes a dimpled smile at you. "But you don't need to worry about who was there and who wasn't, baby, it was me."

Minho scoffs, "As if last I recall, you were too busy getting plastered to remember how to even finger someone."

You shift in your seat, drawing the attention of Felix who glances at you. He eyes you for a moment before wearing a look of sympathy on his face. "You don't have to stay here if you don't want to," his deep voice rings in your ear throughout the commotion. "I know the boys can be a little much," Felix gives a friendly smile. "We can always pick up where we left off next time." He finishes with a wink.

There's hardly any time to respond when Changbin loudly shouts, "Yah! Yongbok is cheating! He's putting fake memories in her head!"

Felix quickly puts his hands up in defense, "I was just saying she can leave if she feels uncomfortable. You guys aren't even letting her talk." Upon hearing his words, all the men quiet their bickering and finally give attention to you. All of a sudden, you rather liked it when they didn't have their focus on you.

"Are you? Uncomfortable I mean," Jisung frowns.

You shake your head, "No! No, I'm just nervous, I guess. I didn't think you guys would get so worked up over this. I thought one person would say it was them. Not...all of you."

This makes Chan laugh, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Yeah, well, you got more than you bargained for." A few of the men chuckle. "What do you think we should do then?"

"Me?" You point at yourself. 

It's Jisung that speaks, "Duuhh, you. You're the one who came here asking for your fingering prince. It's only fair you make the rules."

You can feel your face heat up at Jisung's joke, but he's right. The eight of them can argue all they want, but it's you who has the reins. One by one, you scan them. There are only vague memories from that night, and you can hardly tell who it might be just by looking at them. 

And it's then that an idea pops into your head. 

"I don't think I can make a decision just by looking at you guys," you admit. "I think it's better to replicate what happened."

"Replicate?" Jeongin raises an eyebrow and looks amongst his older frat brothers. "What do you mean?"

A sly smile makes its way on your already blushing face, "I think you know what I mean."

-

It makes sense to go from oldest to youngest. 

Chan did the honors of getting you nude waist-down despite Jisung's complaining. You spread your legs, placing your heels on the edge of the cushions with your back flushed against the couch. It's intimidating to see their eyes on you, traveling to your exposed cunt to your embarrassed expression. 

"You don't have to be shy baby," Chan smoothes his hand over your thigh. "Got such a pretty pussy. You should show it off all the time."

He laughs at your whine, finding his place beside you as he looks down at your nakedness. Chan hums, fingers traveling lower before going towards your knee again. You appreciate how he works you up. How he takes his time to make sure your hips try to maneuver for his hand to brush against your folds. 

Chan is experienced, that's for sure. Even if you can already tell he's not the one from that night, you don't dare tell him. It feels too good to stop what he's started.

"What do you think baby, hm?" He looks at you. "Is this enough to admit it was me? Or do you need a little more?"

You nod, "I think I need a little more." Spreading your legs as further instruction, you gasp when Chan finally makes contact with your heat. He smiles at your slack jaw, opting to kiss your neck and rub soft circles on your clit.

"Feels good, huh?" He mumbles in your ear. "Just tell them it was me, baby. We both know how badly you want to finish." 

It's true, you do want to finish. It's why your hips have picked themselves up from the couch and started rutting against his hand. Chan lets your wet folds run over the ridges of his fingers, pressing down more forcefully to add pressure. 

"Hey, you can't cum that quick!" Changbin protests against your arrival. "Just hurry up and say if it was him or not!"

You keep quiet, save for the breathy moans and hard breathing. If you do tell the truth, Chan will stop on the brink of your orgasm. But if you lie, everything will come to a stop.

"It's...it's," you shamelessly try to hump his hand, but the impatient look on the seven other guys makes you confess. "It's not."

There's a part of you that thinks Chan might keep going and just let you finish, but he pulls his hand away from you instead. His body completely withdraws from your own as he tuts, shaking his head. "Should've just lied. I would've let you cum as many times as you wanted."

You watch as he puts his soiled fingers in your mouth to suck on, earning a moan from your lips. 

Minho takes a different approach, opting to kneel before your spread legs and place his soft hands on the inner of your thighs. His sly eyes look up to your aroused ones as he smiles, "I'll be honest, it wasn't me. But you'll let me play with your pussy anyway, right?"

"No, she won't!" Hyunjin pouts, "You're wasting time! Shoo!"

While Hyunjin's long limbs flail in protest, you keep your attention on Minho. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, waiting for your response. Minho's warm breath sends chills when it comes into contact with your skin, and you find yourself nodding as you grip the undersides of your thighs.

He giggles, "Good girl."

You expect to feel his hot mouth, but you're surprised when he moves his hand to quickly rub against your clit. The sound of your wet folds reverberates throughout the apartment. Your clit is far too sensitive to be played so roughly with, but the sensation brings you back to the edge once more. 

Minho watches as your back arches off the couch, how you've thrown your head completely back in pure ecstasy. He leans down to peck the top of your pelvis, a contrast to his relentless rhythm. 

"I'm gonna cum," you whine. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum."

Minho smiles, "All over my fingers huh? Little pussy can't handle all this, can she?" He slows his past momentarily to move his other hand towards your entrance, dripping a finger into your pulsing walls. The combination of the rubbing and thrusting has you trembling, hips bucking wildly until Chan has to hold the top of your shoulders from behind to keep you still.

"Stay still baby, you're moving so much." 

"So good," you look up at Chan. "Can't stop."

Chan watches as your face contorts into pleasure. Blinding heat fills your stomach and floods your pussy. You distantly hear Minho and a few of the other guys gasp when you cum. Arousal drips down Minho's wrist, pouring out from where his finger is inside. 

Finally, you pick your head up to look at the mess, surprised to see Changbin striding to where Minho sits. 

"Move move move! It's Binnie's turn!"

You whine when Minho removes his finger, but judging from the look on his face, he isn't too happy about it either. "Impatient ass," he sneers at Changbin, standing up. "I just started."

Changbin doesn't respond, too preoccupied with finding his place between your legs and tapping his cock on your swollen lips. 

You gasp, looking down to see the heaviness between his legs, standing unashamed and proud. 

"Gross dude!" Jeongin scrunches his nose in disgust. "Pull your pants up. I can see your ass hanging out."

Hyunjin and Seungmin laugh, but Changbin pays no mind. You've been told he has a hard time concentrating on more than one thing at once, but you didn't think he would zone in on you so quickly.

"Let me put it in," Changbin begs, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your slit. "It'll just be the tip, I promise."

You're just about to agree before you remember why you're here. How would you know if Changbin is the one if he doesn't use his fingers? You bite your lower lip, looking between his short fingers to his chubby cock. 

"Binnie..." you pout at him. "Those aren't the rules."

He whines, humping his hips quicker as if it could change your mind. "Pleeease! Just one time, let me put it in one time and-"

"Bin," Chan's authoritative voice comes from above you. You feel him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, reassuring. "Gotta listen to the boss here man."

Changbin looks dejected as his lower lips jut out, but he withdraws his throbbing erection obediently. His solemn expression fills you with pity and you wrap your legs around his waist to keep him from leaving. 

"Let's make a little deal, yeah? Tell me the truth if it was you at the party, and I'll let you put the tip in. Okay?"

His eyes lit up a little too quickly, and you repeat yourself. "Just the tip, okay? Only the tip."

"He's not gonna listen," Seungmin shakes his head. "He only thinks with the head between his legs."

The jab has Changbin frowning again, but you tighten your grip around his waist for encouragement. "No, Binnie's a good boy. You'll listen to me, won't you?" Changbin nods, still looking somewhat sulky as he repeats, "Binnie's a good boy." This has you smiling, settling further into the comfortable couch. "I know. So tell me, Binnie, was it you?"

"Yes!"

"Fucking liar," Seungmin swears. "He's full of bullshit."

"Yeah, he's lying!" Hyunjin joins in. "It was me!"

Seungmin moves his cold stare to the taller man, "Why are you so persistent? It was not you." Hyunjin looks like he's about to argue again, but Jisung beats him to it, "Fuck you guys both! It's me!"

You have to tune out their arguing, looking at Changbin who behaves suspiciously. He has a ghost of a smirk on his lips, his eyes can't maintain eye contact longer than two seconds. The cherry on top is his blushing face, red with guilt.

"Binnieee," you drawl. "Are you lying to me?"

With eyebrows raised, you watch as his small smile falls. His lips pucker into something like a scowl, but he looks hopeful. Stupidly hopeful. Changbin shrugs and finally meets your eyes, "Maybe, but that doesn't matter!" 

You frown, "You lied to me- oh-" Changbin cuts you off by dipping the fat head of his cock into your entrance. It's so warm, so thick that your cunt wraps around it snugly almost immediately. He rolls his hips to thrust shallowly, feeling your walls try to suck him in deeper. 

"That's...That's cheating," you manage to say. 

Changbin smiles, pulling his head out to slap it on your clit. "It feels good though." 

He places his hand on the base of his cock to aim at your pussy, this time with no scolding from you. Before his tip has the chance to sink back into your heat, Hyunjin yanks him by the shoulder. 

"Ya! What are you-"

"You broke the rules," Hyunjin reminds him. "You don't get a turn."

"But she-"

Minho looks rather pleased as he drags the sulky Changbin away from you, mostly likely happy he got his revenge. Though you wave Changbin a pitiful goodbye, your body begins to vibrate with excitement at the arrival of Hyunjin. As beautiful as all the men are, Hyunjin seems to match the brief descriptions you have of your mystery man that night. Long fingers, long hair, and a height that seems to fit. 

Hyunjin takes his place next to you, smiling innocently to where you can see his dumpling cheeks and crescent eyes. "How are you doing, beautiful?"

The attention makes you blush, shyly hiding behind your hair as you answer, "I-I'm fine. I...I really wanna cum."

"Again?" He laughs, "You're barely halfway there, you know?" Despite Hyunjin's teasing, his hand travels down your inner thigh to your soaked folds. You gasp at the contact, looking down at his slender fingers rubbing you in circles. 

"Mmm, that feels good," you sigh.

Though you aren't looking, Hyunjin beams at the compliment. "Good huh? How about familiar? Does it feel like that too?"

To that, you aren't too sure. Hyunjin is gentle, reassuring, and caring. Even as his digits travel lower to plunge into your cunt, it's still different from the night before. The mystery man was rougher, demanding. Telling you to spread your legs rather than the gentle voice Hyunjin uses. 

"Just like that, pretty," Hyunjin whispers in your ear. "Such a good angel for me." Two of his fingers easily slide in and out of you, making you clench and writhe on the couch. His other hand palms his erection at the sight of you and the sound of your moans. 

You can feel the men staring at the two of you. Changbin and Jisung have their cock out, stroking at the same face that Hyunjin finger fucks you. Felix seems eager to shove a hand down his pants, but his concentration is glued to your exposed cunt. Minho is whispering something to Jeongin who also can't take his eyes off you, nodding mindlessly to whatever his hung tells him. Chan's heavy hand pats the top of your head, comforting and somewhat wholesome. 

"So," Seungmin crosses his arms against his chest, ignoring the raging boner in his pants. "Hurry up and say it's not him."

This makes you shake your head, content with finishing your second orgasm on Hyunjin's hand. His palm slaps against your cunt, briefly coming into contact with your clit. It's so good, so good that you might lie and say it was Hyunjin that night. 

"Don't stop," you whine, pleading with Hyunjin. 

He leans down and places a chaste kiss on your lips. His lips are plump, full, and wet with salvia. Your mouth chases his when he pulls away, earning a chuckle from him. "Wasn't planning on it."

Hyunjin slows his pace to add another finger, stretching you with three digits before he's pumping again. You squeal at the speed, hands grasping onto the cushions to ground yourself. Your entire body feels hot, overstimulated to the point of fainting. Your heels dig into the couch as your high builds throughout your body. 

To make your climax powerful, Chan reaches down and flicks your clit rapidly. A mixture of a scream and a moan tear through your chest and you bury your face in Hyunjin's neck to conceal your embarrassing sounds.

"She's gonna cum again," Felix notes, eyes wide. 

The men watch as your body begins to convulse once again, arousal dripping further onto the couch and some to the floor. 

"Whatever," Minho snorts. "I made her cum first."

"Yeah, with my help," Chan looks up to narrow his eyes accusingly. 

It's in the midst of their banter that you cum, shaking and filled with burning pleasure. Hyunjin's fingers hardly slow their pace, but Chan hears your muffled cries and slows his rubbing. Your drool begins to seep onto Hyunjin's expensive shirt, but he pays no mind to it. He's too caught up in the way your sensitive body jolts and quivers with every thrust. 

He only stops when he feels warm tears soak his shirt. His fingers slip out of your cunt, taking a few strings of arousal with it. He cradles your face in his hands, looking worried. 

"Oh, my sweet angel," he coos. "Was that too much for you?" 

You're still vibrating with pleasure, jumping when Chan tenderly grips your neck.

"G-good," you manage to choke out. "S-so good. More, more. Wanna keep cumming."

The anxious expression on Hyunjin's face fades, and you hear a few of the men chuckle at your admission. 

"You can cum many times as you want, baby," Chan confirms. "But we need to know, was it him?"

For a moment, you're confused. Was what who? Who was what? Your brain flicks with thinking before the light bulb goes off.

"It wasn't him, was it?" Jeongin hopes, eyes shining with hope and arousal.

Your mind is half-broken, barely managing to say, "Not...not him." Hyunjin groans in frustration, throwing his head back dramatically. "Fuck! I so thought she was gonna say it was me. Didn't think her brain would still work after all that!"

Hyunjin stands up, defeated. The space next to you feels cold and empty, but Chan's warm touch keeps you feeling floaty and safe. You reach up to grasp onto his form, mewling and pawing at any physical contact you can get. 

"Shhh, everything's okay baby. We're right here," Chan leans down to whisper in your ear. "You're halfway there."

a/n: holy shit this is taking me soooooooo long so I decided to break it into parts lmao I apologize. *slightly* proof-read ill be honest. tell me how you like it! taglist: @hyunjinhoexxx, @sharonxdevi, @thexemyy, @linocvp1d, @nahimgoodmom, @oddracha, @ihrtlix, @soobin-is-squishy, @kwanisms-replies, @scrumptiousbasketballranchalien, @got-me-seein-stars, @mkbum(also if you guys want to keep up with fics just tell me you wanna be tagged in the comments or something)

[ghostsforghosts]

A Mutually Beneficial Deal

COD Regency AU... I've been holding off on making this because I don't really enjoy writing period-typical homophobia (or really homophobia in general), but this AU keeps pulling me in. And I had a vision of an idea, so here I am. If you haven't already guessed, Reader is male. Summary: You were a baron, the lowest rank in the peerage and you had only gotten the title because you were the only son in your family. Your father had died recently, giving you the title because he had no brother to give it to. Since you were of low ranking among the ton, your family was in desperate need of marrying into a wealthier family. However, you were introverted and not really looking forward to marrying a woman, so your mother's attention switched to your baby sister who was the oldest of your sisters. As the only man of the house, it was up to you to find a suitor for you sister. Word Count: 2, 144

"You can't just go marrying another Baron," your mother said to your sister, Susannah. She sounded exhausted with her, having to repeat this several times ever since your father died. "We need more respect in the ton now that your father is gone, so you need to marry up. You need marry…an Earl. An Earl will help us with the debts your bastard father left us."

Susannah pouted at your mother, but the pouting didn’t last long as your mother glared at her. “Mama, please. I understand why not a baron, but an Earl? What difference is there between an Earl and a Viscount? A Viscount can make us financially stable,” she complained.

Your mother tutted at her, really displeased that Susannah seemed to have her head in the clouds with how often your mother had told why her betrothed couldn't be a Viscount. "Foolish girl, look up from your books and pay attention from time to time. The reason why not a Viscount is because Earls are guaranteed to have enough money for our debts and we will gain so much more respect if you snag an Earl instead of a Viscount."

You tapped your foot, wondering why you had been called here if your mother was just going to ignore you and berate your sister. You stood up, instinctively smoothing out your coat as you did so.

"Mama, I have paperwork to get to, please excuse me."

You moved to leave, but your mother wasn't having it.

"There's nothing more important than ensuring your sister gets married to a reputable man," your mother answered, giving you a withering look. She was pleased when you sat back down, continuing now that she knew you were listening. "Perhaps, while you stood near the walls during balls, you've noticed anyone who is a good suitor for your sister. You need to do more in this situation than be Susannah's chaperone. I can't do everything here."

"I hear mostly of scandals, Mama." You tried your best not to shift beneath her gaze, knowing she wouldn't like you showing the slightest hint of fear. "Most of the men I hear about are not men Susannah should be with, considering their rakish reputations. But I can certainly make more of an effort to find suitable men for her," you added, wanting to appease her.

Your mother smiled, but it was a harsh smile that would fade quickly if you didn’t do what you said. “Good, I’m glad I can count on you, {Name}.”

She then turned back to Susannah, dismissing you with a wave.

You didn’t hesitate to get up once more and to finally leave the drawing room, knowing that if you had stayed, she would’ve dragged you back into the conversation. And you did really have paperwork to do.

Once you got to your study—it was actually your late father's but it was now yours since you were a baron—, you sat down with a sigh. You had so much to do ever since your father died and your mother just kept piling things onto your plate. You didn't know when you would get to finding Susannah a suitor, but you'd have to make time.

The day passed by and you had busied yourself with paperwork, telling your mother you'll skip out on eating dinner with them since you were going to go to the gentleman's club in search of a suitor for Susannah. Your mother was happy, so she let you go.

Going by carriage, you arrived at the gentleman's club you've been a member of since you were of age to do so.

It wasn't the most lavish and expensive gentleman's club in the ton, but it was enough for you. And it was enough for some earls too, which would help in seeing who was an eligible suitor.

"My Lord Baron!" The man who owned the gentleman's club, Edgard Shakerley, said as you stepped inside the club. He greeted you warmly, despite not knowing you that well. "I'm glad to see you here again, Lord {Name}. We've missed you and we're sorry for your loss."

You merely smiled in greeting, not liking the way everyone seemed to extend their condolences every single time they saw you. You made your way to the main room of the club, sitting down after getting a drink.

Thankfully, the very small group of friends you had made while being a member of the gentlemen's club were also there and you sat with them. They knew better than to offer their condolences, instead asking about how your workload was.

"I have so many people to write back to and so many payments to do, it's exhausting," you complained, happy to have people to talk to. You lounged in your chair, oblivious to everyone except your friends. "And on top of all of that, my mother is tasking me with the job of finding a good enough suitor for Susannah. Which is why I came here, hoping to find someone reputable. An Earl."

One of your friends, a Viscount named Griffith Yorke, perked up at that. "A reputable Earl, you say? I have just the man in mind, and he's coming this way."

Before you could persuade him not to call out to his friend, Griffith had done so with no prompting.

"My Lord Earl! It's so good to see you! Come, Lord Riley. Sit with us."

You turned your head to look at the man Griffith was talking to, seeing a huge, scarred man who was walking with a cane. You knew this man, but mostly everyone did.

He had brown hair and brown eyes that were haunted, his stature tall and built. He filled out his clothes wonderfully and moved gracefully even with the limp he had gotten five years ago after returning home wounded from the war. His cane was made of oak wood, its shine lost due to years of the earl using it, his clothes perfect even as he moved.

Despite being upset at your friend calling the earl over, you couldn't help but agree that Lord Earl Riley was an honorable man. He was involved in no scandal that you had ever heard of and all that the gossip the ton spread about him were just of them hoping he'd take a wife soon. There were no rumors of debts he piled up or rumors of him having premarital sex with debauched women.

He was just a regular man, who simply was not one to socialize much. He seemed a lot like you in that regard.

"Everyone, this is Lord Simon Riley," Griffith said, gesturing to Lord Riley when the lord had stopped in front of the group.

Everyone greeted the earl and introduced themselves in turn, a chair being pulled up for him. You ended up sitting side by side as everyone else asked the earl how he was and what he was doing at the gentlemen's club.

Somehow, though you expect it was Griffith's doing, you end up sitting with just Lord Riley an hour later. Everyone gave some excuse or the other for needing to leave, bidding you both goodnight. Griffith was the last one to leave and he whispered something in Lord Riley's ear before leaving.

You stared at the bottom of your fourth glass, feeling the buzz of the alcohol. "I need a suitor," you blurted out, more inebriated than you thought you were. You cleared your throat, still not looking Lord Riley in the eyes but you looked up in his general direction. "My sister, Susannah, needs a suitor. A reputable one and an Earl."

Lord Riley raised an eyebrow, drawing your attention to the jagged knife scars on his face. "I do need a wife," he said surprisingly, taking a sip of his own drink. "The debutantes keep swarming me every time marriage season comes. It'd be nice to have a reason for them to back off."

"Are…" Your throat felt like there was a rock in there and you swallowed hard, trying to get the words out of your mouth. "Are you suggesting you marry my sister?" you asked, wanting to leave no room for misunderstandings.

"That's what you want, don't you?" Lord Riley was still holding eye contact with you, refusing to look away whereas you couldn't bear to look into his eyes for too long. "You want a suitor for your sister and I want a wife to make the other women leave me alone. It seems like a beneficial situation to the both of us to me."

You couldn't stay help yourself but reveal the entire situation, giving the earl more information than your mother probably wanted you to give a potential suitor. You talked about all of the debts your father had wracked up while he was alive, how his debtors were still wanting money despite his untimely death.

By the time you finished saying everything, you two were one of the last few lounging in the gentlemen's club, the only lights being the candles which casted a soft golden glow on your huddled figures. You both had lowered your voices, knowing that this subject shouldn't be loud for others to hear.

Lord Riley was so close to you now, his long legs brushing against yours with every small shift of his body in his chair. "I'm surprised you're not also marrying this season, since you could marry up as well and get a sizable dowry from your future wife's father," he said, but his words weren't judgmental but curious.

He was curious about you, showing you attention most high-ranking men in the ton wouldn't. It was certainly something new to have someone so popular among everyone else be willingly sitting with you for this long.

"I don't really want to marry a woman," you admitted after a while, finding the strength to do so. You were worried Lord Riley would turn you in to the authorities, but you only saw the same non-judgmental look on his face he had been sporting the entire time you talked. "I know I will have to, eventually. But I just can't fall in love with women and it feels wrong to marry one when I know it'd be a loveless marriage."

"I'm the same way," Lord Riley answered, giving you the same sincerity you gave him. He sighed, wiping away the condensation on his glass with his gloved thumb. "But most marriages are loveless at the start and to be respected, we have to hide away our true selves. Your sister… I'm sure she's an amazing woman, but I will never love her. I can, however, give her and your family financial stability and status that will allow her and you to live comfortably."

You honestly couldn't ask for a better solution to your family's financial situation, but you knew that you shouldn't solidify anything until your sister agrees. She was, after all, the one whom Lord Riley would be marrying.

You stood up suddenly, placing your glass haphazardly on the table before you. "I should go, but I will write to you with the answer to the deal you propose. I just first have to talk to Susannah about this," you said, bowing to Lord Riley. "Goodnight, my lord."

You turned to walk away, but Lord Riley's hand reached over to grip your wrist. His fingers wrapped around your wrist quite easily, leaving just a little bit of space between fingers since you were no dainty man.

"If your sister agrees to this arrangement, perhaps we don't have to resign ourselves to being alone in our desires." His brown eyes bore into yours, his words causing shivers down your spine. "We don't even have to act on them, we can just bond over being in the same situation. Just think about it, okay? I'll settle for just seeing you because of my courting of Susannah, if that's what you want."

Your heart soared at the offer, wanting to say yes. For so long, you have hid your true self and your desires from your friends and you longed to be truthful with someone. You yearned to have someone know what you were going through, to have someone who could understand and who you could understand in return.

But the offer was not one that could be rushed. You'd need time to see if that was what you wanted or if you wanted to be professional with Lord Riley.

So you merely nodded, glad that was all the answer the man needed before he let go of your wrist. You took one last look before bidding him goodnight once more, turning on your heels afterwards and leaving.

It seemed like your family's luck was turning and there was a light at the end of the tunnel. If your sister took the offer, that is.

Flower banner made by @/dollywons and reblog & mdni dividers made by @/cafekitsune

Requests are open!

[f14fun]

pages and podiums (!author x op81) - chapter 2

synopsis: in which case y/n, an author hosts a signing and a read-out-loud of the final installment of her book series in new york city. oscar, lost in the big city, stumbles by the bookstore and is immediately intrigued by her (and her books).

prose (5.1K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | prev ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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Oscar had told me to dress nice.

That's all his text message contained. "Dress nice."

To this day, I cannot fathom why men simply lack the need to provide detail into the dress code of the night. It's as if they assume we can read their minds or that 'dress nice' is universally understood. Men seem to operate on a different wavelength when it comes to these things. While we're left deciphering cryptic messages like "dress nice," they seem content with the vague directive.

Maybe it's a test of our fashion intuition or perhaps they genuinely believe that 'nice' is a universally understood standard.

Either way, I found myself standing in front of the mirror, debating between outfits that ranged from elegant to casual, all while wondering if 'nice' meant dinner-date chic or something more formal.

Texting him a series of, "???" and a "Could you please be a little bit more specific, I'm (slightly) freaking out in my apartment right now 😭", he responded in a mere matter of minutes, while I was sitting on the stool of my makeup vanity, painting on my eyeliner to utmost precision.

Taking an absentminded glance at my cellphone while I haphazardly used a q-tip to wipe off excess mascara, he responded with, "Don't worry, you don't have to dress to the nines, just something that you are comfortable with."

His prompt reply brought a mix of relief and amusement, contrasting sharply with my frantic preparations.

As I smoothed out the edges of my makeup, I couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation—here I was, meticulously applying makeup to look effortlessly 'chic and nice,' while he nonchalantly reassured me with a casual text.

It was a reminder of the different approaches we often had towards such occasions, him opting for simplicity and me, in a flurry of brushes and cosmetics, seeking clarity down to the finest detail.

But what can I say, isn't there a famous saying that goes, opposites attract?

Settling on a silky white dress with black trim around the neckline, I draped a white blazer on my shoulders. The wide neckline beautifully emphasized my collarbones, adding a touch of elegance to the ensemble. It was a choice that balanced professionalism with a hint of chicness, perfect for the occasion I was preparing for.

The silky fabric cascaded down in gentle folds, skimming over my figure with a graceful flow. Paired with the structured lines of the blazer, the outfit exuded confidence and sophistication. The contrast of white against black trim created a striking visual impact, drawing attention to the neckline and framing my face in a flattering way.

As I stood in front of the mirror, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility and lost in my thoughts—as I often am—a sudden ring shattered the silence. Startled, I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly, joking to myself that authors must have a knack for interrupting serene moments.

Curious to hear Oscar's voice after our earlier exchange, I answered the call with a smile, ready to continue our conversation.

"Hey Y/N," he answered in a low voice. There was just something about his greeting that exuded a newfound sense of confidence from the nerdy and dorky brown-haired boy.

"Hi Oscar," I replied, suddenly shy at the seemingly flirty intonation of his voice. I gulped. This was going to be a long night if I kept blushing like a school-girl every time Oscar spoke.

Not that I was complaining though.

I would love a long night with Oscar. (Dear reader, if you know, you know)

"I'm at the front of your apartment building," He replied.

"Already?!" I shockingly replied. He had told me that he would be here at 6:30 PM. It was 6:15 PM. Over the call, I could here his faint laughed at my surprise.

"Wow, you are here so early," I said, "Kudos to your promptness, I'm impressed," I joked.

"Well, you know me," Oscar replied smoothly. "When there's a chance to see you, I'm always ahead of schedule."

His confident response made me smile. "I'll be down in a minute then. Just don't let all this early arrival go to your head, Mr. Punctual."

"I'll try not to," he chuckled. "But no promises. See you soon, Y/N."

"See you soon, Oscar," I replied, hanging up the phone with a grin. This night was definitely starting off on an unexpectedly fun note. I just hoped it would end with the same amount of vigor and flirtiness.

I hastily tucked my makeup pouch and phone into my purse, swiftly crossing the hallway of my apartment complex to reach the elevator. Tapping my foot nervously—and with a touch of impatience—I looked forward to seeing Oscar as I descended thirty-seven floors. This felt like the longest elevator ride of my life, each floor passing with excruciating slowness as anticipation built in my chest.

Finally, the doors slid open on the ground floor. Stepping out, I scanned the lobby, my heart skipping a beat when I spotted Oscar standing near the entrance. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape as he took in my appearance. I couldn't help but grin mischievously at his stunned reaction.

"Well, someone looks like they've seen a ghost," I teased playfully, walking towards him with a confident stride.

Oscar blinked rapidly, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "I... uh... I mean... wow," he stammered, clearly at a loss for words.

I laughed lightly, enjoying the rare moment of leaving Oscar speechless. "Cat got your tongue, Mr. Piastri?" I quipped, standing before him now, reveling in the flustered expression on his face.

He managed a sheepish smile. "You just... you look amazing," he finally managed to say, his eyes still wide with admiration.

"Well, thank you," I replied with a pleased smile. "You're not quite too shabby yourself, Mr. Piastri," I added, giving him a playful once-over.

Oscar chuckled nervously, adjusting his collar. "I... uh... well, thank you," he said, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red.

As we stood in the lobby, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation and a hint of nervous energy. People passed by, casting curious glances our way, but we were lost in our own little bubble of playful banter and mutual admiration.

"You know," Oscar began, his voice a touch more confident now, "I've been looking forward to tonight."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. "And why's that?"

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Because I get to spend it with someone as charming as you," he replied smoothly.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his unabashed flattery. "Smooth talker," I teased, leaning casually against the wall.

"Only for the smoothest writer I know," he quipped back.

"Touche, touche, I'll give you credit for that remark," I responded, my eyebrows raised at his quick response.

"I have a surprise for you," Oscar said with a mischievous glint in his eye as we walked towards his car.

"A surprise? I love surprises!" I exclaimed, curiosity piqued.

He chuckled softly. "Guess where we're going for dinner," he prompted, his tone playful.

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Oh no, not this again. You know I'm terrible at guessing," I replied with a smirk, remembering the countless times I'd failed miserably at guessing his job earlier that day.

Oscar laughed, a warm sound that filled the air. "Come on, give it a shot," he encouraged, nudging me gently as we reached the car.

I sighed dramatically, pretending to ponder. "Hmm... Thai food? Sushi? Maybe a cozy café with gourmet burgers?" I guessed, each suggestion more outlandish than the last.

He shook his head, still smiling. "Nope, nope, and nope," he replied, enjoying my playful attempts.

"Fine, fine," I conceded with a grin. "Just tell me already."

Oscar paused for a moment, relishing the suspense. "We're going to an Italian restaurant," he finally revealed, watching my reaction carefully.

"Italian?" I repeated, surprised yet pleased. "That sounds wonderful," I admitted, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought of pasta and candlelit ambiance.

He nodded, his satisfaction evident in his expression. "I thought you might like it," he said softly, opening the car door for me.

The ride to the restaurant was quite smooth, albeit we were stuck in traffic for around forty minutes but the drive was still pleasant nonetheless. Oscar distracted me from my imminent road rage as a New Yorker, and the fact that sometimes, I still felt overwhelmed by all of the bright lights and glamor that New York City had.

As we finally arrived at the Italian restaurant, Oscar found a convenient parking spot near the entrance. He held the car door open for me again, and I stepped out onto the bustling sidewalk, feeling a mixture of excitement and hunger.

The restaurant's exterior exuded a cozy charm, with warm lighting and inviting aromas wafting through the air. We walked inside, greeted by the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. A hostess welcomed us with a smile and led us to a corner table with a view of the twinkling city lights through large windows.

"This is perfect," I commented, settling into my chair and taking in the ambiance.

Oscar smiled, pulling out my chair for me before seating himself opposite. "I'm glad you think so," he replied warmly, picking up the menu and handing one to me.

"Are you hungry?" He gave me a cheeky grin. Before I could respond, my stomach growled loudly. Betrayed by my body at the worst possible moment, of course.

Turning a bright beet red, Oscar let out a laugh.

"Well, my stomach answered before I could so, enough said," I rolled my eyes, still embarrassed, the red heat on my face expanding to my neck.

Oscar chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I guess that settles it," he said teasingly. "Let's make sure we order enough to satisfy both of us and your hungry stomach."

"How nice of you to include my big back in the discussion," I joked.

"Always a gentleman," he rolled his eyes.

Taking a look at the menu, my eyes widened at the relatively expensive prices. I still had some debt accumulated from my four years spent at NYU. My job as an author didn't even cover all of that.

Oscar noticed my hesitation and leaned closer, his voice gentle. "Don't worry about it. Dinner's on me tonight," he reassured me with a warm smile.

I shook my head, a playful glint in my eyes. "Oh no, I couldn't let you do that," I protested lightly, though secretly touched by his gesture.

He chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling. "It's not a problem, really. Just promise me one thing," he said, his tone turning teasing.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What's that?"

"Promise me a signed copy of your next book series," Oscar replied with a grin. "That's more than enough payment."

"Don't tell me you would betray me by selling those books on eBay," I say, mocking him.

Oscar gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "I would never! Your autograph is priceless to me," he replied, his expression mock-serious.

"Yeah, you definitely couldn't sell it if I wrote a heartfelt message on the front flap of the book," I replied. Immediately coming up with a way to embarrass him.

"Oh please, enlighten me with your plan," he responded, making direct eye contact with me as if to challenge me. Staring at him back, I responded.

"In the front flap, I could probably write, Dear my little Pookie-Bear Oscar Cutie-Pie,-" I say, and before I can even finish Oscar choked on the water he was sipping. Both of us burst out laughing at the ridiculous statement I just said.

"Yup, I am never, saying that ever again in my life," I shook my head in mock disbelief.

"But what if I wanted you to call me that," Oscar said slyly.

"Oscar, are you seriously into that," I said, raising an eyebrow as I tried to keep a straight face (hint, I was failing), the sides of my lips quirking up as I tried to restrain my gummy smile.

"Ocassionally," Oscar said, surprising me that night once more.

"Oscar!" I whisper yelled.

"Only with you, Y/N, only with you I promise," he smirked. Rolling my eyes and blushing, I replied.

"So you would be fine if I called you Oscar my Pookie Bear," I teased, fiddling with the golden ring on my index finger.

"Only if I got to call you Y/N my Cutie Pie," he responded, emulating the same vibe.

"Deal," I challenged him.

"Shake on it?" he asked.

"Shake on it," I responded.

He reached out for a handshake, and his hand fully enveloped mine. Despite his profession as a Formula One driver and his regular workouts, his palm had a surprising smoothness that contrasted with the slight roughness of his fingertips. It was a sensation that immediately caught my attention—a tactile reminder of his strength and determination, yet with a gentleness that made me feel oddly comforted.

As our hands met, a subtle warmth spread through me, and I couldn't help but notice the way our fingers interlocked naturally, as if they had found their perfect fit. We both blushed slightly, caught off guard by the intimacy of the gesture in such a public setting. His touch felt reassuring and strangely familiar, like coming home after a long journey.

Though extremely cliche (as an author, nonetheless), for a brief moment, time seemed to slow down around us, the noise of the restaurant fading into the background. It was just us, connected by this simple yet significant gesture. I stole a glance at Oscar and found him already looking at me with a softness in his eyes that mirrored my own feelings.

"Sorry," Oscar murmured, a hint of bashfulness in his voice as he withdrew his hand, but his eyes held a softness that mirrored my own feelings.

"No, it's okay," I replied softly, feeling a rush of gratitude for this unexpected connection. "I... I liked it."

Oscar smiled shyly, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Me too," he admitted, his gaze lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary.

The waiter returned to our table with a warm smile. "Are you ready to order?" he asked politely, holding his notepad at the ready.

I glanced at Oscar, a playful twinkle in my eye. "I think we're finally ready," I replied, turning my attention back to the menu. "I'll have the Fettuccine Alfredo, please."

"Excellent choice," the waiter noted, jotting down my order. He then turned to Oscar. "And for you, sir?"

"I'll have the Margherita pizza," Oscar said with a nod, handing back the menu.

The waiter nodded, jotting down the order swiftly. "Anything to drink?"

"I'll have a glass of red wine," I answered.

Oscar looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'll go with a sparkling water, please."

"Of course," the waiter replied, smiling warmly before heading off to place our order.

I turned back to Oscar with a grin. "Pizza and pasta—classic choices," I remarked teasingly.

He chuckled, a lightness returning to his demeanor. "Can't go wrong with Italian cuisine," he replied, his gaze meeting mine. "Especially when enjoyed in good company."

Are you saying I'm good company?" I teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Oscar's smile widened, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "I suppose I'll have to wait until after dinner to make that judgment," he quipped, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "But if this pizza is as good as they say, you might just have some stiff competition."

I laughed softly, feeling a pleasant warmth between us. "Oh, I see how it is," I replied with mock indignation. "Pizza versus my sparkling personality—may the best contender win."

Oscar chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "It's going to be a tough battle," he agreed, lifting his water glass in a mock toast. "But I have faith in both contenders."

"Speaking of pizza," Oscar began, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, "I once had a friend who insisted he could make the best homemade pizza. It turned out to be a disaster." He shook his head, feigning dramatic horror. "I think I nearly choked down every bite, trying not to offend him."

I laughed at the mental image, imagining Oscar's valiant effort to endure the culinary ordeal. "Oh no, that sounds like a true test of friendship," I teased, leaning forward with interest. "How did you manage to survive?"

"Well, let's just say I had plenty of water on hand," Oscar replied, his tone tinged with amusement. "And I made sure to praise his pizza-making skills as convincingly as I could."

"Ah, the sacrifices we make for friendship," I mused with a grin. "But you survived to tell the tale, so that's what counts."

Oscar nodded solemnly, though a playful glint remained in his eyes. "Indeed. And now, I can appreciate good pizza even more," he said, gesturing towards the restaurant's kitchen with a nod of approval.

Curiosity piqued, I leaned in closer. "So, who's this friend of yours? Anyone I might know?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Oscar chuckled softly. "His name's Lando," he said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "Also known as my annoying and slightly older but slightly shorter teammate."

I grinned, picturing the dynamic between Oscar and his friend. "Sounds like quite the character," I commented, amused. "Does he still try to impress you with his culinary skills?"

"All the time," Oscar replied with a laugh. "But I've learned my lesson. I stick to letting him handle the driving, and I handle the pizza orders."

"Smart move," I teased, swirling the ice in my water glass. "It's all about knowing each other's strengths and weaknesses, right?"

"Exactly," Oscar agreed with a nod. "And trust me, after that pizza incident, I've become quite adept at steering him away from the kitchen."

I chuckled, imagining the scenes that must unfold between them. "I bet he keeps things interesting though," I remarked, a playful glint in my eye.

"Oh, definitely," Oscar said with a fond smile. "He's the kind of guy who always brings excitement wherever he goes, whether it's on the track or just trying to cook dinner."

Curiosity sparked, I leaned forward slightly. "Speaking of cooking, do you cook?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Oscar's expression turned comically horrified. "God, no," he replied with a laugh, shaking his head emphatically. "I leave that to the professional chefs that travel with us."

"Wait, you have professional chefs traveling with you?" I asked, genuinely surprised. "That's quite the perk."

"Yeah," Oscar nodded, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "It's one of the luxuries of the racing circuit. These chefs are like nomads, following us from race to race, making sure we're well-fed and ready to perform."

I couldn't help but be intrigued. "That's incredible," I admitted, picturing a team of chefs crafting gourmet meals in the midst of the adrenaline-fueled world of Formula One racing. "I guess it takes a lot to keep up with the demands of your schedule."

"Absolutely," Oscar agreed. "They're not just skilled chefs, they're also part of the team dynamics, ensuring we have the right nutrition and energy levels for each race."

As I absorbed this new insight into Oscar's world, I found myself more fascinated by the intricate details behind the scenes of Formula One. "It sounds like a whole different lifestyle," I mused, leaning back in my chair.

"Mhm," he said, looking up at my eyes, then looking down towards my cherry-red lips.

I couldn't help but laugh at his response (or lack thereof), a genuine smile spreading across my face. "Fair enough," I said, amused. "Are you as bad as Lando in the kitchen then?"

Oscar chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "I'd like to think I'm not that bad," he said, holding up his hands defensively. "But let's just say my skills are better suited to driving a race car than handling a spatula."

"Well, at least you know your strengths," I teased lightly, taking a sip of water. "And you're lucky to have Lando for the culinary adventures."

"Absolutely," Oscar agreed with a grin. "He keeps things entertaining, that's for sure."

"But when I do attempt to cook," Oscar continued, leaning in conspiratorially, "I try my best to learn new recipes." He paused, his expression turning thoughtful. "Key word being 'try'."

I chuckled, imagining Oscar navigating through a kitchen with the same precision he used on the race track. "I can picture it now," I replied playfully. "Oscar Piastri, the daring chef, mastering the art of... well, trying."

Oscar laughed along with me, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Exactly," he said, shaking his head with mock solemnity. "Let's just say, there have been a few... interesting experiments."

"I'm intrigued," I admitted, leaning forward with curiosity. "Any memorable disasters you'd care to share?"

"Well," Oscar began, a grin spreading across his face, "there was this one time I attempted to make pasta from scratch. Let's just say it ended up resembling something closer to sticky dough than pasta."

I couldn't help but laugh at the mental image. "Ah, the joys of culinary exploration," I remarked, shaking my head fondly. "But hey, at least you're willing to give it a shot."

"And that's what counts, right?" Oscar replied with a wink. "Trying new things, even if the results are... questionable."

Our banter continued, punctuated by shared smiles and the occasional playful exchange. As we awaited our meal, the anticipation mingled with the easy comfort of our growing connection, creating a moment that felt both lighthearted and promising.

"So, what about you?" Oscar asked, his eyes curious as he leaned in slightly, genuinely interested in my culinary exploits. "Any culinary adventures or misadventures of your own?"

I chuckled softly, reminiscing about my past kitchen escapades. "Oh, plenty," I confessed with a playful grin. "There was this one time I tried to impress my friends with homemade pasta. Let's just say it turned out more like noodles stuck together in clumps than the elegant strands I envisioned."

Oscar chuckled, his expression amused. "Ah, the classic pasta mishap," he commented with a knowing nod. "It's tricky to get it just right."

"It is," I agreed, smiling at the shared understanding. "But you know, every mishap is a learning experience."

"That's the spirit," Oscar replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Did your friends at least appreciate the effort?"

"They did," I confirmed with a laugh. "Although I'm pretty sure they were just being polite."

"Well, that's what friends are for," Oscar remarked, his tone light and teasing. "To eat your culinary experiments with a smile."

Our banter was interrupted as the waiter arrived, balancing a tray laden with steaming plates of pasta and pizza. The enticing aroma filled the air, making my stomach growl in anticipation.

"Ah, here's the moment of truth," Oscar said with a grin, his eyes lighting up as he surveyed the delicious spread before us.

I couldn't help but mirror his excitement. "It looks amazing," I commented, taking in the sight of perfectly cooked pasta and the bubbling cheese on the pizza. "I'm glad we went with Italian tonight."

"Me too," Oscar agreed, reaching for his fork eagerly. "Let's dig in."

We both took our first bites, and the flavors exploded on our palates, confirming our expectations. I savored the rich tomato sauce and the tender pasta, while Oscar seemed equally pleased with his choice of pizza.

"Mmm, this is really good," I said between bites, nodding appreciatively.

Oscar nodded in agreement, his mouth half full. "Definitely hits the spot," he managed to say, swallowing before continuing. "I'm glad you're enjoying it too."

"By the way," Oscar said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "if my pasta-making skills ever fail me again, can I count on you to come to the rescue?"

I chuckled, playing along with his playful flirtation. "Well, I can't promise gourmet, but I'll do my best to salvage the situation," I replied with a grin.

"Good to know," Oscar teased, his smile widening. "Maybe we can turn it into a team effort next time."

I laughed, enjoying the easy banter and the hint of flirtation in the air. "Team cooking," I mused aloud. "I think we might just have a winning combination."

"Absolutely," Oscar agreed, leaning in a little closer. "You bring the charm, I'll handle the taste-testing. It's a partnership made in culinary heaven."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his playful words. "Sounds like a plan," I replied, meeting his gaze with a playful glint in my eye. "Just don't blame me if we end up ordering takeout."

Oscar laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Fair enough," he said, his voice low and teasing. "As long as we're having fun, that's all that matters."

"You know," I began, setting down my fork thoughtfully, "as much as I love writing, I also really enjoy cooking."

Oscar looked genuinely interested. "Oh? What got you into writing?" he asked curiously, his eyes focused on me.

I smiled, tracing the rim of my water glass with my finger. "It's something I've loved since I was a child," I explained. "Books were my escape, and writing became my way of creating worlds and stories that I could get lost in."

"That's incredible," Oscar replied, his tone sincere. "It must be fulfilling, bringing characters and stories to life."

"It really is," I admitted with a soft smile. "And cooking is another creative outlet for me. There's something about creating a dish from scratch, experimenting with flavors… It's like writing, but with food."

"I'm glad you think so," I replied with a smile, appreciating his interest. "Writing has always been a part of me. One of my favorite pieces that I wrote was actually a poetry anthology for a non-traditional poetry class I accidentally signed up for at NYU."

Oscar's eyebrows lifted in curiosity. "Accidentally signed up for?"

I chuckled softly. "Yes, it was one of those situations where I thought I was enrolling in a different class, but it turned out to be a wonderful surprise," I explained. "The anthology ended up being a collection of stories that my mother and grandmother had told me from a young age, stories infused with cultural ties and traditions."

"That sounds fascinating," Oscar remarked, clearly intrigued.

"It was," I continued, my voice growing more animated. "Each poem was written in different languages, reflecting the diversity of my heritage, and I included drawings and pictures alongside the text to capture the essence of the stories."

Oscar nodded thoughtfully. "So, it was a blend of storytelling and visual art," he summarized, leaning forward with genuine interest.

"Exactly," I confirmed, pleased that he understood. "It was an exploration of my roots and a way to preserve those cherished narratives in a creative and meaningful way."

"Did your family get to see the anthology?" Oscar asked, his eyes reflecting his curiosity.

"Yes, they did," I replied with a warm smile. "It meant a lot to share those stories with them in such a personal and artistic format."

Oscar grinned mischievously. "Well, I guess accidental enrollments can lead to some pretty amazing discoveries. Who knew you were a secret poet?" he teased lightly, his eyes dancing with amusement.

I chuckled, shaking my head playfully. "I certainly didn't see it coming, but I'm glad it happened," I admitted with a smile. "It opened up a whole new creative avenue for me."

Oscar leaned back slightly, his grin widening. "So, does that mean you'll be writing a poetry anthology about racing next?" he quipped, raising an eyebrow in mock seriousness.

I laughed, amused by his playful suggestion. "Poetry and racing? Now there's a unique combination," I replied, feigning thoughtful consideration. "Maybe I'll call it 'Odes to Speed and Asphalt.'"

Oscar chuckled, clearly enjoying our banter. "I can already picture it," he teased, leaning in closer. "Each stanza capturing the thunderous roar of engines and the thrill of the track."

"Exactly," I agreed with a playful wink. "I'll make sure to include a sonnet dedicated to the smell of burning rubber."

His laughter filled the air, blending seamlessly with the relaxed ambiance of the restaurant. "Now that's poetry I can get behind," he admitted with a grin. "You might just start a whole new genre."

"Who knows?" I replied, smiling back at him. "Maybe I'll revolutionize the literary world with my racing-inspired poetry."

"Only if you credit me as your muse in the introduction of your poetry book," he teased.

I chuckled, feigning reluctance. "Hmm, I suppose I could consider it," I teased back, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "But I'll have to warn my readers about your penchant for bad homemade pizza stories."

Oscar laughed, leaning forward with a playful glint in his eye. "Fair enough," he conceded, his smile widening. "But I expect royalties for every copy sold."

"Deal," I replied with a grin, enjoying the easy banter that flowed effortlessly between us. "Just don't be surprised if I dedicate a haiku to your pasta disasters."

"Touché," Oscar replied, his laughter echoing warmly in the cozy restaurant. "I guess every muse has their quirks."

As we settled the bill and made our way out of the restaurant, the city lights glimmered around us, casting a soft glow over our conversation. Oscar walked me to the entrance of my apartment building, where we paused under the night sky.

"So," he began, his voice warm with anticipation, "how about next time we take our creativity to your place? We can read and write poetry, maybe make some pasta if we're feeling adventurous."

I considered his suggestion for a moment, feeling a rush of anticipation at the thought of continuing our connection. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea," I replied with a smile, meeting his gaze with genuine enthusiasm.

"Great," Oscar said, his eyes brightening. "I'm looking forward to it."

Giving me a kiss on my cheek, not too flirty or scandalous, but just the right thing to end the night, he grabbed my waist and stared into my eyes.

"I'm not sure if I told you this tonight, but you look beautiful Y/N," he whispered. Blushing, I looked into his eyes.

"You did say that earlier," I lightheartedly joked during such a romantic moment (damn it me!)

"And I'll say it over and over again," he said, resting his forehead against mine, as we both stood hugging each other, comfortable in each other's presence.

But soon, it was time to go. I had a day job, and he was still busy with Formula One.

We exchanged goodbyes with promises to text soon, and as I watched him disappear into the night, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected twist that had brought us together. The evening had been filled with laughter, flirtation, and the promise of new beginnings—a perfect blend of romance and creativity that left me eager for whatever the future held.

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taglist: @erin-odonnell04 @rorabelle15 @dramallama9 @yukimaniac

comment down below if you want to be added to the taglist! <3

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author's note:

ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾

(do you guys want a part three?)

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

i see there's shipping discussion occurring in your ask box so i figure i'll throw in my two cents as well!

i used to be a REALLY heavy shipper, in exactly that shallow "reduce their personalities to the concept of kissing each other" way that tons of people are complaining about. i wouldn't get into ship wars or harass people or anything, but i was totally the kind of person who you couldn't just have a level character discussion with— because i would be pretty intent on just going through the motions with whatever best friend or acquaintance I'd decided they had a huge crush on.

by contrast now my biggest most important "ships" end up all being somewhere between 3-5 people with a lot of care put into the nuances of each connection on the relationship chart— i still refer to them as poly ships (as a shorthand mostly), but of the 3 to 10 different relationships between the characters, i usually only see a few of them as romantic or sexual, with the majority a lot closer to a found family or queerplatonic sort of vibe

honestly i think the biggest reason for the reductive style of shipping was that 1) i wasn't as skilled a writer then as i am now, so i wasn't really sure how to really retain all of the features of a character that i liked, and 2) i wanted the biggest feelings IMMEDIATELY and there's some kind of instant gratification to shipping where the end goal is for them to kiss and you can just draw/write/think about them kissing and you're done.

it's kind of like the instant ramen of fictional relationships to me. it's kind of "one size fits all", low writing skill requirement, low effort, really really fast and easy, and ultimately not really that rewarding at the end of it. and just like how real actual ramen exists separately from instant noodle cups, it IS possible to write a really amazing and beautiful and deep romantic ship fic that successfully plays off of the kinds of people these characters are, but ramen still isn't the end-all be-all of relationships! there are so many different hypothetical dishes that could be made with the same characters!

and my personal favorite is polyqueerplatonic ships for this very reason, because with just a few characters you can get a whole diverse array of interactions and dynamics!!

anyway tldr; i think romantic shipping is fun, and even "cheap" reductive romantic shipping can be fun, but (to return to my instant noodles metaphor) it would be reasonably upsetting to attend an awesome community potluck only to find like 90% cup noodles. and the people serving the cup noodles frown at you whenever you ask if anyone's serving like, gourmet spaghetti or dumplings or something.

so just know that if you're bringing your silly "ouhhh they should kiss" fan works to the fandom, you're appreciated and I'm glad you're having fun, and if you're bringing the super precisely thought-out nuanced relationship fan works to the fandom, you are ALSO so appreciated and additionally i really wish there were more of you in my own fandoms.

flashbacks to the time i looked up a ship that i THOUGHT was pretty popular but it only had like 230 works on AO3 at the time and basically all of them were romantic instead of my hyper-specific one-sided queerplatonic one-sided fully platonic thing i had pictured in my mind....

Okay, as someone who has tried their hand at writing slow burn in the past, I totally get the instant gratification thing. "You know when would be a good time for them to kiss? NOW"

I'd get frustrated at my own characters for not just making out already and I was the one writing them not making out lmao

[talekinesis]

Nat 85

So I thought I'd put my own spin on the Timestuck AU since I liked it so much

Mabel and Dipper get stuck in the 80s with younger versions of their Grunkles, with seemingly no way back to their timeline.

I endured hell for this fic, and if you wanna see me scream about it, click here. Y'all better fucking enjoy /lh

[Part 1] | [Part 2]

"You wander deeper into the cave, your footsteps uncertain.. It's so dark that even your torch can't seem to burn through the shadows. Up ahead, you see a round wooden door blocking your path. What do you do?"

Dipper put a hand to his chin and looked down at his character sheet in thought.

"You're thinking too hard about it, just open the door.." Mabel complained from the chair. She had been watching Ducktective with Stan, but now that it had cut to commercial, and Stan had gotten up, she had turned her attention to the game her brother and uncle were playing on the floor.

"You know, you're always welcome to join us, Mabel." Dipper replied, mostly as a polite way of telling her to stop talking. He grinned a little when he heard her groan and flop back against the chair. Her way of saying, 'absolutely not.'

The boy sighed and looked up at his great uncle, "But she's right. I attempt to open the door."

Ford continued his narration, "The handle gives, but the door refuses to open... Literally, it speaks to you," He took a breath and deepened his voice, getting into character, "You who have completed the Trials of Light and defeated the Hoark, in order to pass beyond this point, you must-"

"Hey Gandalf, the show's back on, keep it down." Stan interrupted, having sat back down, Mabel in his lap and his arm around her while they continued their show.

Ford glared at his brother. Sharing his home with an entire family was something he was still getting used to. He turned back to his nephew, lowering his voice, "You must answer my riddle..."

"Two faces I keep, my silver tongue digs me deep, bound by chains time and time again, when I open my jaws, your energy I drain..."

Dipper frowned, thinking hard about what that could possibly mean. He racked his brain for every possible solution in the game.. Unless..

The boy couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face, giggling a little. "It's Stan, isn't it?" Ford let out an airy wheeze, confirming his nephew's suspicion.

"Hey, watch it, you two," Stan pointed at them before Mabel gasped, tearing his attention away from them and back to the screen, "What, what happened!?"

Ford continued, "You hear a click and the door opens, satisfied by your answer. Beyond the door are two tunnels, side by side. Which one do you choose?"

"Left," Dipper said quickly, "Always the left."

"You go left, your footsteps echoing down the damp tunnel.. giving away your position. Suddenly, a large Honix is blocking your path. What do you do?"

Dipper shifted so he could see his character sheet better and focus. "I draw my sword and attack."

Ford grinned, also shifting a little to see the board better, ready for the battle. "Roll for attack strength."

Excited, Dipper didn't even look into the dice bag, grabbing whichever one was on top, sure that it was the 37 sided die. Ford's eyes widened in panic.

"Dipper wait!"

It was too late. He had already released the Infinity Sided die onto the board before his uncle could grab his hand.

Time seemed to slow as each corner took turns hitting the board until it rolled to a stop.

85

Barely registering what had happened, Ford opened his hand.. Empty.

He looked to the spot where Dipper had been. Empty.

Stan looked down at his lap.. Empty.

-

[4kimji]

Can u make a part 2 smut for the 7 minutes one? Btw, thank you!! The fic was so cute😭

-🎀

im sososo sorryyy for the long wait nonieee ! hope you enjoy :3

seven seconds pt.2 ꒰ ᐢ. .ᐢ ꒱ ₊ ˚

pairing: sub!hanni x reader genre: humor, smut warnings: not reread (i haven't wrote in months..), fingering, quickie, edging

the noisy yelling and music downstairs is nowhere near close to interrupting your friend group. it's been a while since all 5 of you hung out, but you would've never thought you'd be trapped in danielle's bedroom for the meetup.

"uhh dani, why can't we go downstairs to the living room...? like normal people?" minji asks, visibly confused. "unless you guys want me to yell instead of simply talking, then sure, let's go downstairs!" danielle replies sarcastically.

minji rolls her eyes before taking another sip of her beer, not wanting to combat danielle's sassiness. the group takes another big silenced pause, everyone's eyes darting back and forth at one another.

haerin decides to break the scary silence first. "why don't we play a game, like we always do?" the room fills with hums of approval and head nods from everyone. "so i guess it's 7 minutes then?" hanni speaks up, ending with an awkward chuckle.

minji finishes chugging her beer, in order for the group to use the bottle. "y/n, why don't you spin this time?" hyein suggests. your hands hesitate for a few moments before reaching for the bottle. it spins for a good 10 seconds before the opening lands on her. hanni.

"ugh again? they already did it last time we hung out!" danielle complains. "it's whatever." haerin shrugs. "just let them go again, it's only 7 minutes." hanni looks up at you with fretful eyes, waiting for the group to leave. "ok you two, we'll be back in 7!" minji slurs before closing the door behind her and the 3 girls.

the silence in the room is sharp, as it's just you two left on danielle's carpet. "so.. it's been a while." you start. hanni perks up from the sound of your voice. "y-yeah, i guess you're right." she replied, her sight never leaving your lips.

you decide to take the risk and lean in to kiss hanni, her lips moving almost automatically to kiss you back. your hand wraps around her nape, deepening the kiss between you two.

hanni pulls away from the kiss to get up from the floor and lock the bedroom door. you decide to follow when she sits on the edge of danielle's mini couch. your hands trail down to her jean zipper, pulling it down slowly to tease hanni.

she mutters something under her breath, but that was the least of your worries. hanni helps you pull down her jeans, revealing her soaked panties.

her legs are already spread, waiting for what you'll do next. you both knew there wasn't much time left until the game ended. "please... hurry." hanni whimpers. you let the cold air in the room hit her cunt before you shove your fingers into her.

she lets out a loud moan before covering her mouth with her hand, in order not to make noise. your fingers insert in and out of her sloppy cunt. a smirk takes over as your expression as you can hear her muffles moans caused by her stiff hand.

she grinds her hips into your two fingers, trying to feel more friction against your hand since your pace has slowed down. you decide to speed up again so she could get closer to her orgasm.

"fuck, i'm so close." hanni whines. you slow down your pace once more, in order to really send her over the edge. you guys were honestly in your own world until you heard knocks at the door, forgetting the door was locked.

you swiftly remove your fingers from hanni's sloppy cunt, wiping her slick on your clothed thigh. it draws a sob out of her, "w-what are you doing?" she asks, confused. hanni was so close to her orgasm, but she couldn't cum.

the knocking grows louder and more aggressively, added on with twists and turns of the doorbell. "guys! open up, the timer is finished!", danielle yells.

[morroodle]

The Ninjago Battle Box: the best investment of my life

A reveiw

A few days ago I got bored and made a somewhat impulsive decision to buy the ninjago battle box which I've been wanting for a while and it finally arrived today so I'm gonna reveiw it cause I haven't seen like anyone talk about it. It dosent even have its own wiki page even though it is chock full of fun facts and information and pictures

Contents:

A 2 sided map - one side is ninjago city while the other is ninjago as a whole (kinda)

Book of battles

Ninjago world guide

30 cards

Lloyd minifig

Garmadon minifig

The map:

HOLY SHIT THIS IS COOL. As far as I'm aware this might be the most detailed map of ninjago we've ever gotten and no one is even aware of it! What I think is the most interesting and what makes me question how cannon this is is that the main map of ninjago only covers like... 1/4 of the whole ninjago island? Kinda odd how like all the locations are in this tiny chunk when they have a whole island they could cover but hey its still a super cool map and an amazing piece of art!

The book of battles:

Kind of a weird thing and I couldn't find any information on what it was until I got it. Basically each page is a rough (and not 100% accurate) summary of one of the battles of ninjago, a vague but still pretty obvious clue about where the battle took place, a prompt to play and a neat art piece based on the battle. It's not so much a history book as it is a book of play ideas, your meant to use the clue to find where the battle took place on the map and then use the little battle dojo, the minifigures and the cards to play out the battle however you want. Very cute and I love it. One weird thing I found though: in one of the battles it calls the serpentine the serpentai? It's done 3 times so I don't think it's just a typo. Don't know what's going on there but its cool. Here's an example of the best page, they're all formatted the same

It only has a handful of battles, not nearly all of them, but that's to be expected and it's still great

Ninjago world guide:

It's like a little encyclopedia of heros, villains and artifacts. It includes the main ninja, the elemental masters, all the villains (up to season 15 and strangely excluding the overlord), and a bunch of non people important things like the bounty and the realm crystal. Pretty much nothing I don't already know but still neat! It's kinda cool how it's split into 2 sections, one half being heros and good artifacts and the other being villains and bad artifacts. I don't know how to describe it but theyre kinda facing different ways? It's like 2 books in one, both starting on the outsides and meeting/ending in the middle like so.

Here's Morro's page (again most of the pages are formatted the same):

Cutie pie <3

The cards:

I wish I could show off all the cars but sadly tumblr has a limit to how many pictures you can have in one post. Cards include heros, villains and artifacts, similar to the world guide but not quite as many things, just the important ones. Theyre pretty simple, with just the name/title and a drawing of the character/item. Theyre meant to be used to play the battles in the book of battles. Morro's is the absolute best one look at this little cutie pie!

Hes so sweet and adorable he has never done anything wrong in his life and I love him

The minifigures and the box itself:

Nothing really special about the minifigs just a basic Lloyd and Garmadon. Interesting to note that despite wearing his season 8 gi Lloyd has his legacy hood on. Not complaining, I hate the smooth round hoods.

The box that everything came in doubles as the little play area :D its a little dojo setting with some cute nicknacks scattered around. It needs a bit of encouragement to stay flat though. Oh also here's the outside of the box

Conclusion:

The best $25 I've ever spent. I can't believe almost no one knows or talks about this! It's from 2023 and covers up until seabound. I might have to see if I can add this stuff to the ninjago wiki, more people should know about it. If anyone else is interested in getting one (you should be) it's on the scholastic website for $17.99 + shipping, not the actual lego website.

[traffic-light-eyes]

Can we have Lloyd head canons??????

I've done a few already so I'll link them here!

Headcanon list 1

Movie Headcanon

Headcanon list 2

Here's a quick headcanon for you, though !

Lloyd 100% reads fanfiction. I don't make the rules. He is deep, deep into the Starfarer fandom, and he sometimes even writes his own fics (with the help of Pixal <3)! He tried to commission Cole to draw something for him (Cole please please pretty please? I have this really cute idea!!! Don't you love me? 🥺) and that ended with him being tossed onto the closest soft surface and smothered by a pillow. Lloyd definitely jumped for joy when a few days later, there's the exact Starfarer drawing he wanted sitting peacefully on his pillow. Cole got a lot of hugs that day, not that he's complaining. Lloyd's the type of person to gush about his favorite hyperfixations but feels guilty about it when he thinks that no one cares/they're not interested/they think he's being too childish. To counter that, his family give their utmost attention to him, asking questions and giving their own thoughts about it. A safe bet for gifts is just giving him plushies or merch from the series. Jay got him a first edition comic, and then he couldn't enter a room with Lloyd in it without getting thrown into a wall by a very aggressive and well-meaning hug.

I've been talking about physical affection a lot in this hc, so I have to make it known my stance on this. When he was younger, he definitely had touch-starvation issues. He grew up with literally no physical positive reinforcement, and when he was touched, it was most likely for a cruel prank or a school-issued punishment. So, when he went to the bounty with the ninja, he tried his hardest to subtly try to get physical affection without seeming "needy" or "weak." He sometimes didn't even realize he was doing it. He just subconsciously walked closer to Kai and let his hand brush against him or sat across from Jay and "jokingly" kicked his leg. He uses pranks often to try to get some type of touch, usually in the form of being dragged to the scene of the crime to clean something up (oopsie sorry Kai I didn't know that you wanted your upside down container of hair gel to be closed. I didn't think it would just fall out, sorry teehee). Eventually, the ninja figure it out - probably with the help of Nya if I'm being honest - and make sure to give him lots and lots of cuddles. Eventually, he just grows to be a very physically affectionate person, most likely because he was deprived of it.

Anyways! Here you go <3

[fandoomrants]

When I re-joined the Marauders fandom around a year ago, I was coming across lots of people complaining how toxic this fandom has become.

I didn't quite understand what they meant back then as I haven't been active in the fandom for a long time (completely missed the ATYD era and most huge changes and things, didn't know how most ships came into existence still don't but I'm afraid to ask plus I'm already on board ig and also too many characters that were barely mentioned when I was in the fandom) so I couldn't decide what made it "toxic".

For the longest time I assumed it was people insisting on their ships and headcanons and throwing hate on people who shipped different things (God forbid people liking Harry's parents as a thing instead of making them both queer and into other people) and I suppose that's truly what most people view as "toxic" to this day but lately I genuinely saw the real toxicity of the fandom.

It's people's approach towards the people that create any content for the fandom. That's the truly toxic thing.

Is it normal that writers have to put a thousand warnings on their fics or even delete them from stop people from binding them and trying to sell them?

Or artists having to constantly report people reposting their works without proper credits?

Or cosplayers having to explain themselves to "fans" accusing them of... cosplaying?? And daring to have a personality and content outside the character(s) they cosplay?

The whole point of the fandom is that things are made from FANS for other FANS. The things people write/draw/edit/cosplay, they do because they genuinely like these characters and this world, and because they know others do too, and would enjoy the way they express their ideas of said things. And they all do it for FREE too.

If people want to support them, they can do it the proper way, spreading the popularity of these creators by sharing their work and giving credits. There is absolutely no reason to spread around someone's work, especially for money, when it's out there and perfectly available for FREE. It's wrong and even if the intentions are good which I doubt, there is this thing called copyright and it can cause harm to those creators because the characters aren't original. (What's worse, when people sell fics, they actually "give credits" and put down the writers' names/urls.)

And if they don't like them for some reason, they're free to just not engage because nobody is shoving it in their faces by force. Blogs, tiktok accounts, tags, etc can be BLOCKED. If you don't enjoy someone's content, just leave them alone and don't go around yapping and throwing hate at them. It's simple as that. (Unless there is a valid reason to cancel someone and there usually isn't any except for people simply not liking them for one reason or another.)

Being in a fandom means that there will be things that you'll be on board with and then some you wouldn't be but don't forget the creators aren't doing it to offend anyone, they're expressing themselves like everyone else does by discussing or creating their own stuff. If it's not your cup of tea, go drink some cold water.

In any case, people shouldn't forget that anyone that creates any type of content:

1) is doing it for free, by their own free will, in their own free time.

2) is a normal human being. They're not the character(s) they create stuff about. They have their own struggles and difficulties they face in their life but still find the time to create these things you enjoy.

3) is not obliged to interact with/do commissions for people just because they're trying to abuse them into it by constantly sending asks and messages.

4) has privacy. Nobody wants people trying to probe into their life just because they are known among some community. Same goes for actual actors/artist, writers. Being famous doesn't erase the right to have something your fans aren't privy to.

5) has boundaries that shouldn't be crossed, and things they are okay/not okay with that should be taken into consideration.

I genuinely find it a bit fascinating how people decided to take away these characters and modify them so much as one big FU to the original author due to her toxic behaviour, yet they manage to create a toxic environment for others too.

P.S.: Please do not engage with this post if you'll be making any claims that any creator that has decided to make their work public is obliged to stand and take hate, mistreatment, etc. There is a not-so-thin line between constructive criticism, and spreading hate and being mean and disrespectful.

[northernolddragon]

Part 1. Whatever the vampire and the witcher amuse themselves with.. (note: 1. a little fun for the monster slayer and the very sight of the 'bloodthirsty monster' in Tesham Mutna, where Emiel prefers to collect the herbs he needs; 2. I would like to see their interactions like this sort of in the game, more options for old friends; 3. Due to my inexperience at the time of shooting, I couldn't remove one of the swords, so he remained - one for the monsters, the second for the people and the third for the Regis. xd).

"This season has been a great harvest of "Erysimum canescens L." In the greenhouse of Corvo Bianco, it will be an excellent addition among other herbs, that we have already managed to collect with the respected Barnabas-Basil and my friend Dettlaff ... How nice it is, when you have been given full right to interfere in the garden and the greenhouse. I would plant the necessary herbs to treat the common ailments, that people in this climate zone have. Workers often complain to me about their ailments... " Geralt is sneaking. Quiet, like a very cautious wolf. "I could feel you from a mile away, witcher. Don't stand there. Kindly don't draw your sword. I have enough to worry about." "You will have to fight me, bloodthirsty vampire!" Characteristic clang and soft grin. "I warned you, White Wolf..." The vampire laughs weakly and a swirl of dark cloud covers the area around him. Geralt literally flies up, trying to catch the 'monster' in time. He just turns around, rubbing the petals of that very plant in his hands, rubbing it into the phalanges, watching the movements, which are so fast for a person, and so slow for a vampire. "Are you seeking death, Geralt of Rivia?"

[blurredcolour]

Okayokayokay, now that I've digested and reread the chapter approximately 5000 times, I'm ready to talk about it.

PART 6 WAS PERFECT AND I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS OVER CRIES IN TRUST SERIES

I can't even imagine how jarring it must have been to the reader to be back stateside after years in the war effort. And so suddenly too. One day you're sitting in briefing, discussing war strategies, and the next you're helping your mom grow cucumbers. Literally, how do you even cope with that?

I love that reader is keeping up with her knitting though 🥰🥰 Very insensitive of Zig Zig to be born in the summer and making her mom wait six months before she starts using the warmer wool garments smh.

I KNEW HER FATHER WAS BUILDING A NURSERY IMMEDIATELY!! A little project to distract him from the loss of his son and the impending arrival of his granddaughter. Love that for him. Also, I just know that he narrowed his eyes every time he saw Bucky's portrait in Clara's room like "your days are numbered if you don't do the right thing, Major >.>"

As usual, the letters were perfect. "Please let her know I'm thinking about her" aka not Bucky already wanting to make a good impression on the in-laws. "All sorts of baby animals" & "some have theirs in the summer" aka the army is so lucky these two are not codebreakers, they are so bad at this LMFAO. Alan Turing would have been in tears if they had been assigned to his team at Bletchley Park. And reader underlining "safely" in her letter? Please, she knows him so well. And him wanting to know how SHE is like stop, I love them. ALSO "film has always failed to properly capture the radiance of the sun" aka the moment I ✨ died ✨

And I love love love how reader keeps him informed of how his team is doing in the MLB. This is true love, people.

But let's take a moment to thank modern technology because like, six weeks to get a letter?? Letters are romantic, sure, but I don't know how these people cope with living in this Schrodinger's Cat situation. Couldn't be me.

Baby Clara "Zig Zig" Mae Egan, a trailblazer from birth. One of the first GI Bill babies? Please, this girl is set to conquer the entire world while her parents clap and encourage her in the background. I love how reader only sees Bucky in her because I BET that aside from the "Dumbo ears", Bucky only sees reader in Clara. I love this little family so much.

AND WE WERE BLESSED BY A BUCKY POV MOMENT AGAIN, THANK YOOOOOOU!! I just know Bucky went around camp showing everyone the pictures and the footprints like "this is my famous doll and this is our perfect daughter." And the pictures were always in his pocket for the harder times at camp. He also immediately went to Alexander in "draw me like one of you French girls" fashion. Poor guy thought Bucky was going to ask for a map of all the guard towers in the stalag, but nope. He needed a portrait to send back home to his girls.

A round of applause to Buck who apparently has a gift to scare reader shitless at any opportunity. Girlie for sure complains about this to Marge, who finds it utterly hilarious.

I have no words for them seeing each other again after almost two years. It was so sweet, and so tender, and sooo perfect.

But honestly reader's family is soooooo unserious. I died when they were like "Bucky can't sleep on the sofa, he doesn't fit there" like, babes, what are you talking about?? I thought y'all would say he couldn't take the sofa because he just escaped The Horrors™️. "He's simply too long" like dndiashdisohdio

BABY EGEN #2 WAS MADE THAT NIGHT ON READER'S CHILDHOOD BED THIS IS CANON.

I hope that morning reader pulled her little baby album and showed Bucky all she documented from the first months of Clara's life. And my headcannon is that Bucky planned Clara's first birthday party himself to make up for the time he lost in a way. Called Buck like "you and Marge have plans for the 22nd. If that's the day of your wedding, postpone. The fact that you haven't come meet my kid yet is frankly insulting. See you soon, bye." And just like me, Clara will take her first steps on the day of her first birthday, I'm speaking it into existence.

I love how reader and Marge started a friendship already. How did they find each other? And the other girls (Vi, Mary, Beth, and Myrtle)?? Has reader told them all about little Clara too?

And as I told you in the DMs yesterday, baby Clara will be the star of Buck and Marge's wedding. All the guys that were in the stalag with them will act like they're meeting a celebrity as a way to poke fun at Bucky for always showing them her picture.

I loved this series so much (will soon reblog all the parts to my sideblog, so warning for notifs lol). Thank you for sharing it with us ❤️❤️ I'm keeping my eyes peeled for that POW Camp fic you teased 👀

Beatrizzzzz your incredible asks are one of my favourite parts of posting a chapter hahahah

But honestly I cannot imagine the whiplash our dear reader went through after her ‘medical evacuation’?!

Like she’d never even been on a plan before and all of a suddenly she’s flung across the world in roughly one day, ripped out of Wycombe Abbey and plonked down into her childhood home to do quaint home front things and gestate her baby - incomprehensible.

Hahahaha I mean Clara didn’t really get to pick her due date, that was definitely Bucky and the readers doing 👀 but yes! So many baby things were knit! And skills were perfected!

I adore the thought of reader’s dad threatening Bucky’s portrait 😂 totally tracks with her fear that he might murder the man in the tool shed

I’m SO PLEASED you loved their letters - they were the first things I wrote in this part hahah

Wrote the narrative around them. But yeaaaaaah subtle as a heart attack these two. And she really really really didn’t want Buck to write her and say “your boy got shot running away to see you” hence all the underlining.

Of course we needed a Bucky POV the instant that reader finally came clean and laid all her cards on the table! Absolutely required!!

Poor Buck really means well he just doesn’t really know how to go about sharing news without almost making her heart stop first 🤣 never gonna live it down

Hahahahahha reader’s parents are practical people ok?! Boy showed up unannounced typically that means he gets the couch. They don’t really get what he’s been through, it’s all so removed for them - but he got a bed anyway!!! And his doll for a pillow 😏

You bet there’s another baby in that oven, honestly I think reader is gonna have a hard time NOT conceiving…her poor body

That baby book is definitely thoroughly combed through once Clara is taking her nap that day don’t you worry

And Bucky will refer back to it frequently when he finds sleep difficult to hold onto in the nights to come

The birthday party, the wedding, all very big events all within days of each other down in Texas

Reader and Marge’s friendship is based on an ask where she probably got Buck to forward reader’s address and they get along like a house on fire. Reader definitely has a wide circle of friends to send letters to including Ruth, Vi, Mary, and even Myrtle who might be opening her heart to a handsome RAF man.

And most definitely little Clara is the most popular girl at Marge and Buck’s wedding but thankfully Marge is kind hearted about being upstaged by a precocious one year old.

It has been such a joy to share this story with you all and honestly?! Already up to my eyeballs in research for the next fic!!!!

[melverie]

For the WIP ask game!

Starfall

MC as the wishful thinking vs Satan as the painful reminder

Satan, Avatar of...Love?

Satan, the Lord of Masks

Lucifer's view on love (after the Great Celestial War)

I had no idea you had so many WIPs. What else are you hiding from me? 👀

Yeah.. I actually have.....about 100 posts sitting in my drafts. And then there are a bunch more fanfic WIPs 🫠

Starfall (fanfic)

The Nightbringer season 1 & 2 rewrite I've already talked about a few times that's definitely not just an excuse for me to throw my OCs into the story ahaha don't worry about it..........

Not sure what else to say about this one so uhh... potential opening line:

"You should be more cautious of who you confide in, MC. After all, are you confident you can properly discern friend from foe?"

MC as the wishful thinking vs Satan as the painful reminder (character/relationship analysis)

Oh, the one that has been sitting in my drafts the longest!

This one was basically just the other brothers seeing Lilith in both MC and Satan, except that Satan was the reminder that she died, and MC the reminder that, in the end, she got to live

I never ended up posting it though because a) the bros never really draw the comparison between Satan & Lilith or MC & Lilith (other than Lucifer completely unprompted going "wow I'm holding your hand. I held Lilith's hand once 🤡" like wtf is wrong with him) and b) I didn't really want to risk starting some kind of drama because iirc there was a wave of posts claiming that the bros see MC as Lilith's "replacement" at the time I wrote this which people then started to complain about, and I didn't want to add fuel to the fire

Also, 'wishful thinking' for MC isn't really accurate, but I couldn't think of a better phrase when I wrote the post

Satan, Avatar of...Love? (character study)

Me gushing about why I love Satan so much

I feel like a lot of the core aspects about Satan are so heavily tied to love. Made this post to talk about that, but I never got around to finishing it

Satan, the Lord of Masks (character study)

Little reference to his TSL counterpart hehe >:)

Basically just a character study dissecting all the different masks Satan puts on and why he keeps putting up an act

I think that's what it was supposed to be, at least. Tbh this one has been sitting in my drafts ever since July, and the only thing I wrote for it so far is the title so uuuhhhhh....

Lucifer's view on love after the Great Celestial War (character analysis)

That one is actually almost done so I'm gonna finish it instead & then tag you in it

-> to the WIP ask game

[river-styxxs]

My ZZZ opinions as someone who hasn't played the game and has only watched pre-release stuff cus I don't wanna spoil myself on the story until I can play the game:

Ellen: - Very cool!! I would've pulled for her if I was playing. I like sharks so of course I'm gonna like the bitch with a massive shark tail

Grace: - She's just a cooler version of that one bitch from MHA. Please stop saying you want to look inside children (machines) it's creepy and gross

Soldier 11: - Couldn't give a shit. I don't care for her in the slightest. She's just orange Anby but with less personality

Nekomata: - She's super cute! I love how her animations look and her voice is actually really nice imo. Poor girl has already been white washed in a ton of official art but that's just the fate of being 'the brown one' in a hoyo game ig

Von Lycaon: - This man is genuinely convincing me into learning how to draw furries. Attractive,,,

Koleda: - My daughter!!! She looks super fun and honestly feels more like a Pokémon character than a hoyo character. Most of these characters actually feel like Pokémon characters

Alexandrina Sebastiane: - I think she's...kinda just there. She's pretty, and the fact that she has dolls is cool. I also like how all of Victoria Housekeeping is based on classic monsters. But she doesn't have that much appeal to me imo. Like I like how Lycaon kinda has a father type relationship with Corin and Ellen is really cool to me standalone but Rina just kinda feels like she's there

Piper: - I mean there's not much about the Sons since they were announced a week before the game came out. Close enough, Welcome back Herta Star Rail

Lucy: - Similarly to Piper there's not much about her since she was dripped a day before the special program. But also she just has a cooler design. I love the biker aesthetic. Also her bat is cool. Also pigs <3

Corin: - Absolutely smitten. I love her design and how utterly miserable she looks. She does not wanna be here. Also love her giant ass pizza cutter. Look, I just perfer cute characters i don't make the rules my brain does

Anton: - Like Rina, he's kinda just there..I don't have much to say about him

Ben: - It only took 13 years for them to add a playable fat character! And what a joy he is. He's just a nerd who likes math and that's cool. Also the only character in the game to alter another characters mechanics when in the party, so that's fun

Soukaku: - I don't really care for her. All I know about her is that apparently she's meta with Ellen and Lycaon so she gets brownie points for being a support to my 2 favs

Billy: - Slutty, slutty robot man. I love him. And his ass. He's had 2 adds now with ass shots and he deserves it. He's very much the same appeal to me as Boothill and Vash so yippie!! Also he's just a power rangers nerd so that's always fun

Nicole: - I love a good girl boss. Also the way ppl on Tiktok complain about her boobs is just funny to me. Like yes, her boobs are gonna move, they aren't bolted down to her ribs.

Anby: - For the longest time I thought her name was Enby so I headcanon them as non-binary now cus of that. Love her really, she's like the stoic quiet character but actually interesting to me at least. Like bitch is just obsessed with movies, and bad at socialising and she's just like me fr!!!

My replacement tablet pen is coming tomorrow so I'm gonna be so annoying about ZZZ

[annepsilvaauthor]

Fighter Weapons — Chapter 6

Pairing(s): Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC (Claire Mitchell) / Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Summary: An untold story. A series that shows what happened during the Top Gun of our beloved pilots of Top Gun: Maverick.

Warnings: Subtle sexual innuendos, brief language, alcohol consumption, angst, smut, fluffy.

Word Count: 3.990

The darlings who don't want to miss any updates ↪️ @missathlete3131 @togetherisawonderfulplacetobe @switch3rr @na0my @aprilwithapricots @goldenloverschild @blue682628 @rightwhereiwantyou @jackiequick

Prologue l Chapter 1 l Chapter 2 l Chapter 3 l Chapter 4 l Chapter 5

ғɪɢᴛʜᴇʀᴛᴏᴡɴ, ᴜsᴀ

One more day of school and Hangman was swinging one leg frantically as he played with the damn toothpick with his tongue. They were in an anteroom, where there was a very clear projector reproducing the pilots' paths in previous training. Claire and Blade analyzed the maneuvers.

"What's the matter with you?" Claire asked Hangman when it was finally his turn.

He just shrugged and let out a smug smile.

"What would you say, very fast... very agile..."

"And very aggressive." she pointed with some disapproval.

"It's combat. Every second counts." he countered without any fear.

The room was dark, everyone lined up together in armchairs like in a movie theater. Hangman sat in the center next to Coyote and the other pilots around him, as if he were the sun and the rest were just satellites and planets orbiting him. He had sat there on purpose.

From there you could see Rooster absorbed with a notebook, with a slight smile on his face towards the instructors. Phoenix had sat next to Hangman for lack of choice, as she was a few seconds late that day and lost her spot, which certainly wouldn't be next to him.

"The most coveted tricks in the world won't help you if you end up alone. Your wingman has to be able to follow you. Trust in you. You must know that he can depend on you. It's more than just flying around to make the news."

Even in the dim light of the projection, with just a few blue dots moving on a black background, Hangman could see a certain hardness in her gaze, disapproving of his way of flying.

"Well, what you need... what you have to keep looking for... what you want is a wingman who can keep up with you. Who can be there with you move for move. Then you have something."

"As we saw in the video, you almost hit your wingman." Blade intervened in the discussion. "Not the smartest move."

"But it was the least obvious."

"He will never admit he made a mistake." Rooster commented without looking at him.

"My wingman wasn't fast enough to keep up with me. We had seconds to dodge your attack, sir. I had to do it." Hangman ignored Rooster and spoke directly to Blade.

"That was risky, it compromised your wingman and the plane of millions." Blade replied.

"I hit you. That's what matters."

Rooster took a deep breath and frowned, clenching his jaw. He knew Phoenix was right, he couldn't be put off by Hangman's behavior, but he was still human. Listening to an asshole say he didn't care about the team as long as the mission was accomplished was ear-splitting.

"What would you do in this situation?" Claire asked the rest of the room.

"I would have done the same. Every second counts up there." Coyote commented and gave his friend a thumbs up.

"I would have left it on a draw. It was already past thirty seconds." Porkus said.

"Thirty seconds longer than we got." Fungus complained.

"Following the protocols would be enough." Rooster finally opined.

"Rooster and his love for the methods and techniques in the book." Hangman fired again.

"No cataloged combat maneuver has ever killed my team."

"Not an enemy, right, Rooster." he played with the toothpick. "Am I the only one to understand here that the enemy does not play fair or use everything that is in the norms? I fly to win."

"And it doesn't matter to you that your wingman dies in the process." Phoenix commented firmly.

"He... must be bold enough to fly with me."

Phoenix narrowed his eyes upon knowing that Hangman hadn't used the word "he" in vain. He made it very clear there that he would never fly with her without being ordered. Hangman announced to everyone that she, like all women, was not daring enough to fly with him or worse, against him.

"Since you think you're so unreachable, tell us which of us you'd fly with, Bagman." Storm insulted and then coughed. "Wow, my throat is terrible. I meant Hangman."

Everyone knew that wasn't true, including the instructors who exchanged glances with one another. Claire held back a smile and Blade rubbed his mouth to keep from laughing. The pilots were not very discreet and let out quick laughs and a few jokes.

Hangman didn't appreciate the teasing attention one bit. He tried to keep the smug smile on to show that it didn't affect him. But deep down, he was shaking with rage. He could put up with ill-mannered comebacks, shaming and judgmental looks, but being made fun of was too much.

Words from his parents ran through his mind, the laughs, the comments when he said he wanted to be a fighter pilot. Everything came back. The hurt, the pain, the contempt. He felt suffocated, immersed in dark waters. His breathing was quickened. It was really getting to him. Fuck!

However, he felt a delicate and warm touch on his right thigh. It was Phoenix's hand that stopped him from frantically moving his leg any further. He knew that act was only meant to stop him from brushing against her leg, but for some reason, the gesture actually calmed him down. Hangman looked up at her, meeting those eyes glittering in the dim light so close to him. Her expression almost spoke to him "Are you okay?" and Hangman managed to put his head on the surface of the sea.

"None of you." He replied returning to the superb smile and still looking at her. "Yet."

He winked at Phoenix, who rolled her eyes and removed her hand from his thigh as quickly as a hummingbird's wings flutter.

"Okay, pilots. That was our last review for today." Claire resumed the leadership of the room. "You are released for training and tomorrow we will analyze your performances again."

The light was turned on again and soon the pilots left the room. In the hall, Hangman spotted the instructor with the goatee and saw him wave at Phoenix and flash a smile. She waved two fingers and kept walking. That was very strange. Did she fuck him? But Hangman was much more personable and talented than that guy. Why did she go to bed with that weirdo and not him?

They took a break in the break room, where there were two couches upholstered in brown leather, a foosball table, and a breakfast nook. Main meals were usually held in the refectory, but a snack could be had there. On the walls were several frames with images of planes in many generations and photos of old Top Gun classes, since 1969.

Phoenix noticed Rooster approach one of the paintings and watch it for long minutes with a pained expression. He held his dog tag between his fingers, now squeezing hard, now guiding it from side to side. She noticed that he did this whenever the group gathered there and hadn't realized that it could be something important. Until that moment.

"In five weeks it will be us in this room." She commented with a smile as she approached him.

"If we can make it to graduation alive." she replied in a somber tone.

"What does that mean?"

Rooster sighed, still staring at a class photo from 1986.

"When I joined the Navy, I wanted to serve my country, be a good pilot, make my..." He paused. " But here, I see that almost nobody thinks like that. The legacy is what matters. The titles, the fame. This can all go to your head and... wreak havoc."

She considered his comment for a moment and her gaze instinctively landed on Hangman, who was roaring in competition on the foosball table. She remembered the small debate that had taken place in the room and would have given Rooster complete reason if she hadn't seen that look in Hangman's eyes. He looked lost, hurt. And she knew it had nothing to do with Storm's comment because they had already made much heavier jokes and he was still impenetrable as a stone. But not that day. Phoenix had seen a gap in the rock called the Hangman.

"Everyone has their own motivations." she said at last.

"Wrong motivations can lead you to death or worse on your team." He squeezed the dog tag tightly. "Guys like Hangman are a shortcut to the grave."

Rooster pulled away from her slowly and she didn't push for more information. He clearly hated the way Hangman flew and treated the team, it was a fact. But, something told her that there was an entire cavern in the emptiness of his gaze.

Phoenix approached the photograph observing a man very similar to Rooster in the center and below read the names of the pilots. Nick "Goose" Bradshaw. She slightly arched her eyebrows. There was actually more history there than she thought.

"One more for the cowboy account. AW!" Hangman celebrated in the game.

She rolled her eyes and headed to the pantry for a cup of coffee. The coffee pot had broken the first day they'd been there, so she'd have to brew it the old-fashioned way. She wasn't usually very good in the kitchen, but she knew how to do the basics excellently. Her father called it the "classic" in the family, the one everyone judged by its cover, but the contents were splendid.

"I want mine Texas style."

She didn't even have to lift her head to know who it was. So, she went back to her task without saying a single word.

"You're still ignoring me. OK. I'll make my own coffee."

Phoenix watched from the side of the eye as Hangman walked around the counter and was soon invading the tiny space in the pantry. She remained preparing her black coffee straight, but it was impossible not to be disturbed by his movements. One hand appeared with the coffee beans, the other with cinnamon sticks, brown sugar and a mug of powder. Was that coffee or an expensive drink?

She finished preparing her coffee and drank it, soon feeling her body relax again. Being in a fighter pilot school was stressful, even more so because of the competition between them. However, what really left her sleepless at times was Hangman, who invaded her thoughts with memories of her arrogance and she thought of countless ways to curse him when she saw him next time.

Her reverie was interrupted by a delicious aroma. She didn't know how he'd prepared it or if it was any good, but the smell made her curious.

"Would you like to taste it? I allow." he offered with that annoying smile that made her want to punch those perfect teeth out.

She let out a weak smile and shook her head, going back to sipping her own coffee. Somehow that traditional flavor was bland next to that aroma. Fuck! She wanted to taste it. But she couldn't give him the pleasure of seeing her asking for something from him. So, she continued to drink her plain black coffee.

Minutes later, Hangman left the pantry with a cup in hand and walked towards the pilots on the couch. However, she noticed that there was a small cup on the counter with Texas coffee in it. Did he leave it there to drink later or for her? Well, he was distracted by the warm talk of a baseball game. If she took a single sip, to savor it, he wouldn't notice when she went to drink. If that cup was really for her, he wouldn't notice she drank it either and Phoenix wouldn't give him the taste. It was a good plan.

Then, Phoenix surreptitiously dragged the cup off the counter and stood with his back to the rest of the pilots. She tasted. Fuck, that was more than good. It was a masterpiece of coffee plantation. The way the coffee soothed her and the cinnamon gave her the shivers was wonderful. She had to congratulate Texas for inventing something so delicious. After the single sip, she returned the cup to its former place and set the cup down. Hangman wouldn't notice anything.

[***]

They floated like gods, above the storm, above the clouds. The weather that afternoon had changed drastically in minutes, but the control center warned that the rain would not fall so quickly. They could carry out the training.

Overhead, two F-18s could be seen flying side by side over the sea. Phoenix was a little further back protecting Hangman's rear. Once again, the choice of duos could not have been more wrong.

"Ok, in case I haven't made it clear, I'm the pilot and you're my wingman." Hangman reported on the communicator and she knew he was smiling superbly.

"I didn't stay here behind you for nothing." Phoenix replied in disdain.

"I'm glad you recognize my leadership power."

"No, we just left you ahead to die first." Storm fired.

"You don't want me to die, do you, Phoenix? After all, who would make that coffee so good for you?"

What a son of a bitch! He got it. But how? She had been very discreet and he was showing off to the other pilots. Well, if he wanted to play, then they would.

"I've tasted better."

"Still very proud." he insulted and she saw him shake his head. "What do I do with you?"

"You can start by being silent. We have a mission to accomplish."

"Now you spoke my language!"

They noticed a gray blob point alongside them at 900 knots speed, then a flash and the nose of the plane appeared 300 feet away. The instructor passed them so fast that they could only see the left wing and then disappeared completely.

Hangman wasted no time and charged towards him, quickly gaining speed. Phoenix followed, though he didn't communicate the plan. She had expected something like this.

"I have a six o'clock strobe." Storm informed Phoenix. "Jesus! I think he's targeting us."

"What? I thought he was ahead."

"Coming in at high speed, very fast. Turn right!"

"Right!"

Phoenix obeyed his navigator's command and had to hold the stick firmly to avoid a greater impact due to his speed. She could only see the lights flashing on the engine. That dogfighting wasn't going to be easy like the first one. Phoenix accelerated the plane and returned to stand beside Hangman.

"He is very fast. We're not going to win if we don't have a plan."

"I have a plan."

"And how is that?"

"You'll see."

Phoenix wanted to curse him in every possible way and fire a missile at his plane, but she couldn't. She was better than that. She knew he wouldn't say anything about the plan, if he actually had one, and she would need to find out on the way. Hangman was terrible at teamwork.

"He won't even tell us the plan?" Storm asked indignantly.

"No. It's me and you here."

"That bitch!"

"I'm still listening..." Hangman warned on the communicator.

"Excellent!"

They heard the alarm on the display indicating the instructor's presence, but they couldn't see where he was. The sky was getting darker and darker. The beep intensified on the screen. Their hearts pounded with tension.

Suddenly, a beak pointed out over the clouds behind them and rapidly picked up speed. It was too close, too fast. They would lose if they didn't move in time. Hangman's F-18 took a direction towards the sun hidden by the overcast clouds and disappeared into the shadows.

"What is he doing?!" Storm asked furiously.

"That son of a bitch!" Phoenix shouted into the communicator. "He abandoned us!"

"Attack at nine o'clock! AT NINE O'CLOCK!"

"Hold on!"

Phoenix decided to use her trademark maneuver to get out of that predicament. She gained positive airspeed and rotated 180°, cutting through a path of dark clouds. The air was freezing. Her fingers were shaking, her head was pressed against the chair and the breath was escaping her lungs. It took all of Phoenix's strength not to pass out. Storm was with her. Storm was with her.

Phoenix took hold of her hands again to direct the F-18 behind the instructor's fighter and breathlessly called out:

"Storm! Aim for it!" she found only silence. - Storm!

Phoenix quickly looked back to find her navigator passed out. The G force had been too strong for her. They had not yet accomplished that at such an altitude or in an overcast sky. Phoenix pressed her lips together tightly and tried not to tremble with fear. She used a trick Storm had taught her to calm down. She inhaled and exhaled deeply several times until she regained control of herself and adjusted the stick to aim at her opponent.

She heard the beeping sound of the lead fighter, but she hadn't been the one to shoot it down. It was Hangman.

“And the cowboy wins again.” He celebrated bringing the plane closer to hers.

“Fuck you, asshole.”

Phoenix banked her fighter to the left and headed for base. Upon landing, she opened the canopy and rose, soon approaching Storm. She patted her cheeks and her friend started mumbling. Phoenix gave a relieved smile and hugged her navigator tightly.

“Woah! You...are... too strong for...a skinny one.” Storm complained opening her eyes.

“And you are ungrateful.”

“What there was?” She settled on the bench, feeling drops wet her face. It started to rain. “Did we win?”

“That's the least important thing.” Phoenix caressed her friend's face. “You're safe.”

“Do we win or not? I don't want to pass out for nothing.”

Phoenix rolled her eyes and laughed. Storm was sometimes more competitive than she was.

“Yeah, we won.”

“YEY!” She cheered with both arms in the air.

Phoenix helped her friend out of the fighter despite her protests that she was fine. The other pilots were running along the flight path towards the hangar, as the rain was already beginning to weigh. They followed their lead.

“Hey, Phoenix!” She heard that voice that heated her whole being with rage. “I can't believe you used the Hammerhead turn. It was daring!”

“Go find someone else to piss off, idiot.” she returned with the tone loaded with hate.

“Wow. What a mood, huh? It doesn't even look like we won.”

“No thanks to you.” she clenched her fists. If he spoke one more word he would explode.

“If I remember correctly, I hit him.”

“Yes, after using us as bait!”

Phoenix roared, parking in place and finally looking up at that smug face. The rain didn't let up, it fell harder and harder. She panted, unable to control her anger. He had the power to always get her out of control.

When Phoenix found himself, she had advanced towards him and started a sequence of shoves and slaps on his chest. And she got angrier every time it didn't seem to hit him a bit.

“You son of a bitch! You left us there to die!’ She shouted feeling her voice falter.

“I won't always be there to protect you, my angel.” He informed with that smile and it served to intensify Phoenix's anger. She pushed him mercilessly and he just pulled away a little.

“I know! I don't need your protection! But if we are cast as a team we must look out for each other!”

“New to you or not, but I already said that I don't work in a team. I'm forced here.”

“You forced me to do a risky maneuver. My navigator passed out!”

“It's not my fault if she's not fit for this profession. If she can't take it, she walks out.”

The words fanned Phoenix's anger and she pushed him even further. They were already in the middle of the flight line, under a torrential rain and everyone had already entered the hangar, including Storm who was taken by force to the infirmary by the instructor.

“That's selfish! You're a cocky, cocky motherfucker who thinks you don't need anybody!”

“Yes I am!” He shouted back.”I do NOT need anyone. I'm enough for myself!”

Phoenix chuckled humorlessly, still not quite believing what she was hearing. The rain was already so heavy that they could barely see each other. The sun had completely hidden.

“That's the biggest lie I've ever heard!”

“I don't care if you don't believe it. But I am my greatest love!”

“Oh my God. This is so sad!” She approached him. “And yes, you're lying.”

“Why?”

“Earlier today in class. You were alone against everybody. You were a nervous wreck, it looked like you were going to be sick. And you needed me to calm down!”

She noticed that his smile faded and the cocky expression disappeared. He was pure shame and sadness. She almost felt sorry for him, but she pulled herself together. He had abandoned her. He was a real executioner. He didn't deserve compassion.

“If you want to get back at me for not having sex with you, fine! I can handle it! But not in the sky, not when I have someone to protect!”

“I don't give a shit about it! You already have plenty of other idiots around here to sleep with, don't you?”

"You're a piece of shit!"

Phoenix gave him one last push and walked away, plodding down the flight path. Her chest was heaving, her heart was beating like a drum, her entire body was trembling. And she really wanted to say it was from the cold, but no. She was possessed with rage.

"I thought that's what you wanted!"

She answered him with a middle finger and continued walking without stopping until she reached the locker room. Phoenix yanked her flight suit off, throwing it to the floor, and stepped into the shower, where she was finally able to shed the tears she'd been holding back. She'd been so scared, never seen her faint, never been this close to losing her. He had no right to mess with other lives.

After putting on her beige uniform and fixing her hair in a bun, Phoenix opened the locker room door and was dizzy with what she found. There he was, standing like a statue, dripping wet, still in his flight suit and the pained expression on his face. He was the opposite of Hangman. He was heartbroken.

She didn't say anything. He didn't say anything either. Both remained there looking at each other in a mixture of anger and sadness for a long time. Phoenix could feel her anger fading as it sank deeper into those sad, tender eyes. He was more than a selfish cocky. He was a lonely and hurt man.

Understanding this, it wasn't difficult to understand when he approached her and hugged her. A tight hug, like a helpless child. She should push him away, feel revulsion or contempt for what he's done, but she doesn't.

She was slow to reciprocate due to the sheer awkwardness of that act, but when she did, she felt there was nothing more right to do.

Hangman snuggled closer to her, and even though he was much taller, he buried his head in the crook of her neck. His arms surrounded her waist tightly, almost crushing her and the water soaked her uniform entirely. She didn't care. Her fingers stroked the hair on the back of his neck and down his back, breathing in the scent of coconut mixed with rain.

It was not known how long they remained there in that position, but neither of them seemed to want to separate. It was strange and right at the same time. That didn't replace the fact that he'd put her in danger, if only in simulation. But it served to show that he was lying when he said he didn't need anyone.

Hangman was lacking in affection.

[sdyuteiaok]

Man, had a sweet RG Raccoon deck, including four of the mana guys and even one of the rare Squirrel forage mana guy, though no other Squirrels to fetch. Such an incredible curve jumping from 2 to 4 and then all my expend stuff starts going off. A couple of games I didn't even have to attack, my board was so dominating, and then my 1GG guy gives basically all my guys an anthem plus vigilance, just phenomenal. But I lost one game to mana screw, even after a mulligan, but I was unwilling to drop beneath a single mulligan given I had a green land and just needed a red to start ripping with my mana guys or my other red low drops. Obviously never drew a mountain till turn four or so, and could not come back. I had one really sweet one versus a UW control deck, but I wisely landed my pinger Lizard early and just plinked away, and played around his tricks pretty well--there was only one iffy turn where I coulda sandbagged my expend shock Racoon by casting my 4/5 trample hybrid Raccoon into suspected counter. I thought it might be the pay-2 mana soft counter, so either play wouldn't have had mana up to pay for it, so I shoulda just gone with the trampler because if it resolves, it's basically lethal against his almost non-existant board (he had the 4/4 flashback spell Otter and the 1/1 unblockable looter). So if we expect him to have a counter he'd probably have to counter the trampler because his board couldn't handle that and the pinger and my 3/2 indestructible expend nibbling away for much longer, plus he'd have to expect I'd be able to juice it with expend, too, making it even more impossible to survive. So he for sure woulda felt he had to counter that. So that meant I could more likely land my shocker guy, and then I could then trigger its shock expend the next turn with my 4/4 daunt, and by then, my pinger woulda finished him off, and I wouldn't even need the 4/4 to resolve, and that's assuming I draw nothing else. So he indeed had the counter, and as a result the game came down the very last turn, but he was unable to deal with my pinger. I was worried about the 4 damage to a tapped creature, since I was out of my scarce noncreature spells. But there was also Banishing Light or even a stun effect that coulda set us back that one crucial turn. He already bounced my guys with that spell, but notably, he couldn't afford to bounce my pinger because my other guys were such threats, so it kept plugging away--every turn mattered with that guy. So it was a really cool deck, it felt like a trophy deck, but things just didn't quite break my way--in the final match, for instance, I got hit with the black season, and he drew three and then next turn cast three creatures, and even after five removal spells, still had removal plus a trick for my next two creatures and by then my burly guys were simply outnumbered and my life too low. So a frustrating couple of losses, but, man, such a powerful deck when it got humming--and even its mediocre openings were still pretty great cuz my mana guys growing just from a couple of two-drops was impressive enough--I got a scoop when two of my guys grew from just such a so-so turn. But we got the infinitivo, so really, that's all that matters in the end. We're good for another draft on Gems and Gold, so can't complain.