#I might have to find other ways to clear my head

[sisyphean-tragedian]

A Walk in the Forest

[got bored over thanksgiving. so instead of hanging out with my family i wrote fanfiction. Living la Vida Loca] [thanks to my Best Friend @jangles28 for being there while i wrote. Mwah.] [tw: smoking, non-consensual kiss, mentioned dead family member]

--

The detective had gone back to his mother-in-law’s house for the holidays. Only for about a week, just to make sure Junior wasn’t completely bereft of any company save the detective’s (and visits from Waldo? Maybe? God, they’d have to up the security again). 

It was hard, though. Even after years had passed, there were still the looks of sorrow and pity, and there was an extra chair left dusty in the closet. Junior seemed to be meshing well with the relations. It would be good for them to hear stories about their mother, stories still too painful for the detective to tell.

Having settled Junior down in front of their grandmother for a few of said stories, the detective flashed her a pained smile and announced that they’d be slipping out for a quick walk.

“Alright, hon, just be careful, would you? And don’t forget to bundle up, it’s getting cold.”

The detective’s mother-in-law chimed in with her ever-helpful advice, and Junior looked up at them with a smile and a wave. The detective smiled back, less pained this time, and told Junior to be good while they were gone.

They walked toward the coat closet, and pulled out their trench coat and other appropriate cold-weather gear. Properly “bundled up”, as their mother-in-law had put it, they exited the house with one final wave. 

Their mother-in-law’s residence was smack in the middle of a forest, so it was perfect to wander around and think in. Not that they had much to think about, at the moment. It was more an excuse to get away from the crush of pitying family members and reminiscences about their unfortunately late wife. The sentiment was nice and all, but it just made the detective feel worse after a while.

They started down a relatively little-traveled path in the woods. It really was beautiful, with oak and aspen and pine all around, and snow beginning to fall in large white flakes. They knew that the precipitation would drive then back inside sooner rather than later, but all they needed was a few minutes to clear their head.

Reaching into the pocket of their trench coat, they pulled out their packet of cigarettes and their lighter. After a bit of fumbling, they managed to get a cigarette lit and in their mouth. They took a drag, and exhaled a long draught of smoke. It warmed them nicely.

After a few minutes of simply smoking and wandering through the woods, the detective declared themselves sufficiently not-morose enough to go back and engage more with their relations. They turned around and began to head back to the house.

Only… 

They couldn’t find the path.

They tried to retrace their steps, follow the sun, a trail of ashes, notable strange-looking trees, anything that might help them find their way back to the house, but they had no luck.

Keeping a cool head, they continued to scour the landscape for any hints of the path back to their mother-in-law’s abode. Nada.

Then, off in the distance, against the autumnal backdrop of oranges, browns, and swirls of white, they spotted him.

He was leaning against a tree, smiling his insufferable smile, in his stupid striped sweater.

Still a little off-balance due to the constant reminders of their dead wife, the detective charged. Against their better judgement, of course, seeing as they had no weapons except their cigarette lighter, and no real means of subduing Waldo in case they did manage to get him down.

Just as they had reached tackling distance, Waldo stuck out his cane, and the detective ran bodily into it. Winded, they fell back against a nearby tree, and clutched at their chest while trying to regain their breath.

Waldo looked down at them, still with that ever-present smile.

“You look a little lost, dear detective. I saw you walking earlier, and I simply couldn’t resist taking the chance to say hello to an old friend.”

The detective, still slightly winded, snarled at Waldo. Much to their chagrin, this only made Waldo’s smile widen.

“I can help you back to your beloved family, detective, but it’ll come at a price to you. What do you say to a walk with me?”

Having recovered from both their earlier fit of rage and running into Waldo’s cane full-force, the detective took a look at him, weighed their options, then promptly turned around and walked away. From previous experience, they knew that they could unfortunately not out-grapple Waldo (who knew something that looked like mere skin and bones could be that strong?), and they didn’t think they could put up with the needling that he was sure to put them through.

So, they walked away. Picking their battles and all. They continued through the forest, searching for the path. They could hear Waldo behind them, in the crunching leaves and the soft giggles that came every now and again.

Eventually, they stopped walking. The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows across the forest floor. They had yet to find the path, and the relentless giggling was getting on their nerves. Suddenly, they felt someone much closer behind them than previously anticipated.

“Are you sure you don’t want my assistance, detective? It won’t cost you much, I promise. And I’m sure your baby is worried for you…”

Jumping away from Waldo, the detective turned to face him once again. At the reminder of their child, they caved a little. They had been searching for at least forty five minutes, and they had yet to find the trail that should have taken them ten minutes at the most. Briefly, they debated the merits of getting into a scuffle with Waldo. Based on empirical evidence, that would leave them bruised, frustrated, and Waldo-less, and they really did need to get back to Junior.

“Fine. No funny business, though. I don’t want to deal with any of your tricks,” acquiesced the detective with a sigh.

“Me? Tricks? I wouldn’t dream of such a thing, detective. Tricks are beneath me. Now, come along!” While speaking, Waldo looped an arm over the detective’s shoulder, much to their chagrin, and started walking in what seemed like no particular direction.

Waldo whistled as he walked, the detective noted. It was all too cheery a tune for a murderer, but they weren’t about to tell him to switch it up. They had to practically take two steps to every one of Waldo’s and they suspected that he might’ve been enjoying that, if the new lilt to his smile was any indication.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they came within sight of the house. The walk was stunningly hijinks-free, but the detective knew that out of sight didn’t mean out of mind for Waldo. They tried to duck out of his grip, but all of a sudden, his hand turned to steel on their shoulder.

“Not so fast, dear detective. I said there’d be a price, and I’m a man of my word,” Waldo said.

As the detective inhaled to ask what Waldo wanted from them, they were abruptly lifted, and pressed against a nearby tree. Indignantly, they tried to flail out of Waldo’s grasp, but he kept them firmly in the air.

When they tried to start protesting this treatment; however, there came something that they didn’t expect. 

Waldo leaned in, and pressed a kiss to their lips. The detective, jarred, jerked back, but unfortunately hit their head against the tree. Waldo chuckled, then dropped them unceremoniously to the ground. 

“Do remember your spacial awareness, detective. Anyhow, I’m sure your child misses you sorely. It has been fun, mouse, we should do this more often. Happy holidays!” 

And with that, he was gone. The detective, indignant, picked themself up off the ground, and brushed all the leaf debris off. Maybe they had time for one more smoke before they went in, just to steady their nerves? 

They reached in their pocket, and found a signature red envelope in place of their cigarettes. When had Waldo even found the time to do that? Inside, they found a rather condescending note regarding their smoking habit. With a frustrated growl, they stormed the rest of the way back to their mother-in-law’s house, and hugged a teary-eyed Junior upon their arrival.

The detective reassured everyone that they were alright, they had just lost track of time in the woods, no need to worry, but their words rang hollow even to themself. That night, once again, they sat beside an empty spot at the dinner table, and stared out towards the patch of woods where they had last seen Waldo. The snow that had since fallen covered any trace that might have remained from the afternoon’s happenings.

[coryndoll]

chrysanthemums

drew starkey x reader zombie apocalypse au

— “you’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”

content: zombies, weapons, violence, reader lowk opening up more to drew, short little filler but it introduces the journey theyll go on together !

authors note: guys i started tvd n omggg. anyway if u arent part of the tag list, feel free to lmk thru replies, dms, anons, or reblogs !!

previous

the next few days pass in a blur of footsteps, scavenging, and silence. you, drew, and the dog—who you’ve officially named dog because of his lack of collar and your shared inability to come up with something better—keep moving. drew joked that dog might just be a stray wandering the ruins, but it leaves the uncomfortable question hanging between you two: could animals get zombified too? you’ve been leaning toward no, but the thought lingers, a constant what-if.

meanwhile, drew’s been keeping his distance sometimes, falling into a quiet rhythm that matches your pace without crowding you. it’s a small mercy, really, that he knows when to leave you alone.

you’re not trying to be cruel, but attachments feel pointless these days. they don’t lead to anything good. someone always ends up bitten, or worse, you run into people who think survival means stepping on others. either way, someone gets left behind.

so what’s the point in getting close?

you pull your jacket tighter against the chilly air as you enter another building. it’s small, half-collapsed, with broken windows and a roof that looks like it might give out if the wind hits just right. dog pads in first, sniffing the ground like he owns the place. you follow, stepping carefully over shattered glass, while drew lingers near the doorway, his hand brushing against the baseball bat strapped to his pack.

he asks casually, like it doesn’t mean much, “have you been headed anywhere specific?”

you ignore him at first, your focus on a shelf in the corner. a dusty can catches your eye, and you pick it up, squinting at the label. it’s dented, the writing smudged. it’s empty though. you flip it out of your hand onto the table with a clatter, then sigh as you look away.

dog is sniffing something near the far wall, his tail wagging just enough to show he’s entertained. you watch him for a second, then pull your hair back, twisting it into place and clipping it up. crouching down, you start searching through the bottom racks.

when drew doesn’t get an answer, he moves. his footsteps are slow but deliberate, and when he swings around the doorframe into your space, you know he’s not going to drop it.

“you going to tell me?” he asks again, his voice softer but still persistent.

you can feel his eyes on you as you sift through the mess on the floor. papers, broken glass, an empty bottle. nothing useful.

your hand pauses, brushing against the knife strapped to your belt. it’s instinctive now, keeping it close, even when drew’s around. especially when he’s around.

finally, you clear your throat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before rubbing the back of your neck. the words come slower than you want them to. “i’ve heard rumors. about a place.”

he raises an eyebrow. “a place? what kind of place?”

you push yourself to stand, reaching for his hand to steady yourself as you rise. “clarenora beck,” you say, watching his face for any sign of recognition.

nothing.

“who the hell is that?”

you scoff, dropping his hand and dusting off your palms. “it’s not a person, dipshit. it’s a settlement.” you turn and start moving again, still in talking distance as you scan a half-broken cabinet.

“it’s supposed to be a safe haven for survivors,” you explain, pulling open a drawer and frowning at the empty contents. “not the biggest, but the safest apparently. they say it’s guarded, got crops, animals, people who actually give a damn. a home.”

he follows, a few feet behind, picking through the debris on a nearby counter. “and you’re trying to find it?”

“trying to see if it’s real,” you admit, your voice quieter. “no one really knows where it is, not exactly. part of me thinks it’s just a rumor. but if it’s real . . .” you trail off, shaking your head.

he stops, leaning against the counter, studying you. “where’s it supposed to be?”

you hesitate, your hand hovering over a dusty jar before moving on. “far,” you say at first, hoping he’ll let it go.

he doesn’t.

eventually, you sigh, turning to face him. “vermont.”

he freezes, staring at you like you’ve just sprouted another head. “you’re joking.”

“nope.”

“vermont.” he repeats it slowly, like he’s trying to process. “do you know how far that is?”

you shrug, already turning back to your search into another room. “not like i’ve got anywhere better to be.”

drew follows you through, his footsteps softer now, trying not to trip over dog as he tails you. dog pauses at the edge of a room, sniffing at the base of a crumbling wall, and drew nearly stumbles right into him because he’s too busy watching you instead of where he’s going. you don’t notice—or you pretend not to—and he mutters something under his breath, stepping over dog and catching up with you.

"and you don’t even know exactly where it is?” his voice cuts through the quiet. “what, are you just gonna explore ten thousand miles ‘til you find it?”

you pause, jaw tightening as you pull a can off a shelf and turn it over in your hands, examining it for any dents or signs of damage. he’s waiting for an answer you don’t feel like giving. you toss the can onto the table with a hollow thud and move to crouch by the lower shelves, brushing dust off a few boxes.

he doesn’t stop, leaning casually against a doorframe and fiddling with a blade he pulled from his pocket. “seriously, what else do you even know about this place?”

you sigh. “i’ve had leads,” you say finally, your voice quieter. “a month or two back, i ran into these two people passing through. one of them told me about it—clarenora. said it was worth looking for.”

drew raises a brow, his interest caught now. “and you believed them?”

“not at first,” you admit, straightening up and wiping your hands on your jeans. “i didn’t even think about it again ‘til later. but they told me something . . . something people who are looking for clarenora pass along.”

he’s watching you now, his fidgeting with the blade slowing. “what’d they say?”

you hesitate, knowing how ridiculous it’ll sound once it’s out in the open. “they said . . . ‘strike c-4 in the heart of daisy.’”

there’s a beat of silence, the faint shuffle of dog nosing through debris the only sound. drew stares at you like you’ve just spoken in another language.

“okay,” he says slowly, his tone dripping with skepticism. “what the hell does that even mean?”

“i don’t know,” you reply, voice clipped. “and if you’re gonna complain about it, save it. i told you, i didn’t have anywhere better to be.”

he doesn’t say anything, just keeps watching you with that same unreadable expression. you turn away, already regretting telling him, already bracing for the inevitable whining and questions. but instead, he leans back against the doorframe, slipping the blade back into his pocket.

“‘strike c-4 in the heart of daisy,’ huh?” he murmurs, almost to himself. “we’ll figure it out.”

you glance at him over your shoulder, surprised but unwilling to let it show. instead, you turn your attention back to the shelves, ignoring the way his words linger in the air.

you approach another table in the corner, its surface layered with dust and scattered with useless junk. broken pencils, faded wrappers, and scraps of paper clutter the space, but you push through it all, your hand rattling noisily across the debris.

something catches your eye further down the table. you reach for it, leaning in slightly, when a decayed hand shoots out from a gaping hole in the broken wall behind the table.

you yelp, the sound sharp and instinctive, and it alerts drew who whips around. before you can think, your hand is on the knife at your belt, pulling it free and slamming it down into the rotting hand. the knife crunches through bone, pinning the thing in place as you stumble back a step, your heart racing.

you back up into drew, your hand immediately reaching out to gesture dog closer. he obeys without hesitation, slipping to your side.

drew pulls his baseball bat from where it hangs across his back, gripping it firmly. its head is littered with nails and screws, jagged and sharp, and he seems almost grateful for the added weight. you tighten your hold on your knife, your gaze snapping to the doorway as an empty lumbers in, drawn by the noise.

without hesitating, you dart forward, slashing the blade across its temple. the thing crumples, but another two stumble through from drew’s side.

he purses his lips, muttering a quiet, “here we go,” before he kicks one in the chest, sending it staggering back. with a quick swing, his bat arcs through the air, landing with a sickening crunch in the nearest empty’s skull. blood splatters across his shirt, but he doesn’t stop. he yanks the bat free, twisting it with a grunt, and swings again.

the second stiff collapses under the weight of the strike, but drew’s already glancing over his shoulder to check on you.

your knife is buried deep in the forehead of the first empty, and you wrench it free with a sharp tug. you pause only long enough to glance back at drew, your chest heaving.

“you good?” he asks, but his eyes are already scanning the room, taking in the stiffs on the ground. he whistles sharply, catching dog’s attention, and waves him forward. “let’s go,” he says.

you fall into step behind him without question as he leads you out of the building. your pulse is still pounding in your ears, but you don’t look back. there’s no point.

as you head back to the car, drew moves ahead and opens the backseat door for dog, who hops in with a quick wag of his tail. you circle to the driver’s side, sliding into the seat without a word, and the moment you pull the door shut, drew’s voice cuts through the tense silence.

“how’s your leg?” he asks.

you grit your teeth and glance at him briefly. “‘s fine. doesn’t hurt anymore,” you reply curtly, your tone leaving no room for argument.

drew hesitates, narrowing his eyes slightly as if trying to gauge the truth of your answer, but you don’t give him time to press further. he sighs, shuts the back door, and makes his way around the car.

as he does, you swipe a fingertip across your face, pulling away a streak of drying blood. it’s dark against your skin, and your gaze drops to your leg. shifting your foot slightly, you look at the spot he’s so concerned about. the fabric of your pants clings awkwardly to the wound underneath, stiff with dried blood, but you force your focus forward as drew opens the passenger door and climbs in.

before he can even settle in his seat, you ask, “where’d you learn medical care, anyway?”

he pauses, then grins, leaning back and shutting the door with an exaggerated sigh. “you mean wrapping a booboo so it doesn’t get infected?” he quips, his tone light and teasing.

your jaw clenches, and you sigh sharply through your nose, staring straight ahead as you start the car. the engine hums to life, and for a moment, the tension hangs heavy between you.

drew glances at you out of the corner of his eye, then leans his head back with a chuckle. “jean,” he says after a beat. “she was part of this group i met a while ago. taught me a lot about survival stuff. said medical care was essential in a world like this.”

you flick your eyes toward him briefly, your grip tightening on the steering wheel. “why’s that?”

“‘cause if you don’t have someone who knows the difference between a heatstroke and dehydration,” he says, mimicking jean’s sharp tone, “you’re as good as dead.”

the car falls quiet for a moment after that. your jaw relaxes slightly, but you don’t say anything, just keep your eyes fixed on the road ahead. drew shifts in his seat, and out of the corner of your eye, you catch the faintest trace of a satisfied grin.

“thanks,” you murmur, so soft you’re not even sure he catches it.

drew stiffens in his seat, his hand stilling on the hem of his jacket. he doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. when you glance over, he’s squinting at you like he’s trying to figure out if he’s hearing things right.

you bite back a smirk and shake your head, eyes back on the road. “don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?” his tone is teasing, but there’s a genuine curiosity underneath it.

you finally let the smirk slip, a small, fleeting smile that you know he catches. “like you’re confused.”

“i am confused,” he says, his voice light but his stare lingering.

you exhale a laugh and shake your head again. “look, now that you’re in on this whole clarenora thing, we’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

he raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat with an exaggerated sigh. “like what?”

you glance at him briefly, your smile faint but persistent. “like solving a riddle. ‘strike c-4 in the heart of daisy.’”

drew furrows his brow, repeating the phrase under his breath. then he turns back to you, his expression all mock incredulity. “so you’re dragging me into this, and now i have to just solve riddles with you?”

you shrug, the smile growing wider as you press the accelerator. “what else do we have to do?”

he groans dramatically, but the faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth betrays him.

tags: @iissza @lotuslovers @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @yootvi @skyslowalking @hoelesslyt @ariiwritess @beebeerockknot @0-tatiana-0 @beabafreakbee @spiderstyles04 @jeyramarie @loves0phelia @writtenbyhollywood @cl4uus @wumblewee

[cheesecakeluver]

HEAD OVER HEELS

Hamzahthefantastic x reader

*˙ ̟꩜ .ᐟ When Hamzah and Martin decide to take a break and head out to their local cafe, Martin convinces the lovestruck Hamzah to ask for the barista's number after he catches him eyeing her while they vlog.

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

The bells above the door jingle, alerting the baristas that another soon to be customer had entered the premises. The two men shuffled in, quickly finding a seat at the front of the cafe, by the closed window, adorned with warmly lit lights messily placed on the ledge.

The weather outside was cold, with November bringing around the chilly air and freezing temperatures. It was a stark contrast to the inside of the shop, its comfortable nature and cozy heat just adding to the aesthetic.

The men began to record as they sat down, laughter filling the air as they joked about anything, and everything. Soon enough, they opened their small menus, and called over a barista.

As she walked over, her hair moved side to side in its low ponytail. A pen discreetly sat just behind her right ear, ready to jot down orders at any second.

"How may i help you?" She spoke sweetly, her smile polite and demeanour welcoming as she looked over the men in front of her.

A silence filled the air, as one of the men stared directly at her, eyes glossy, almost entranced, while the other man looked at his accomplice, who was lost in the girls appearence.

"I'll.. uh.. have the cream cheese bacon bagel, with an iced oat milk latte" The taller, paler man said, waving a hand in front of the curly haired mans face.

He snapped out of his trance, shaking his head a little as his cheeks flushed a dark pink hue.

"I'll have an almond croissant and an americano, please" He quickly replied, eyes avoiding the baristas.

She laughed, her eyes squinting slightly.

"That should be ready in around... lets say ten minutes" She said, and hastily made her way behind the counter, grabbing cups and plates galore.

The two men were left in a slightly awkward atmosphere, the two just staring at each other.

"Hamzah, what was that?"

Hamzah sighed, his hands reaching to run through his hair. "I was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic."

Martin chuckled, earning a glare from Hamzah.

"Dude, you need to get your game in check. Even she thought that was weird."

"I know, i know.. but how? You know i'm hopeless." Hamzah muttered, staring out of the window to avoid Martins humoured expression.

“Ask for her number” Martin stated bluntly, as if it was obvious.

Hamzahs head whipped around, facing Martin with his mouth slightly agape and eyes brows furrowed.

“I can’t just ask for her number! I don’t even know her name, or.. anything about her!”

“And, if you ask for her number, you’ll find out! It’s foolproof.” Martin reassured, gesturing over to the barista, who at this point, was close to finishing their drinks.

Hamzah pondered over this, uncertain if the risk would be worth it. His eyes glancing over the barista, her warm smile, the way she swayed to the background music in the cafe, picking up their food and drink.

“Fine.”

Martins face lit up, excitement splashed across it. His friend was in need of a companion, a romantic one at that, and this might be his opportunity. Hamzah often hung out with Martin and Mandy, but deep down, it was clear he felt like a third wheel. Like he was interrupting a connection between the interlinked couple.

“She’s coming over, act natural” Martin exclaimed, noting Hamzah’s blushed complexion as the barista made her way over, their orders in her hands.

She smiled down at them, setting the places and glasses down in front, and straightening up again, dusting her apron softly.

“Is there anything else i could help you with?” She asked, innocence lacing her tone.

“Yeah, my friend really wants to know something..” Martin declared, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair, yearning for the interaction to erupt.

Hamzah sent Martin a glare from across the table. He could have given him a minute to prepare, or come up with something to say to her.

“Uh, yeah, i do have to ask.. something..” He trailed off, lost in her sparkling eyes as they glimmered in the cafes soft lighting.

“Well, that’s what i’m here for. Ask away!” She beamed at the man, who was eyeing her up.

Martin would say later on that he could see the invisible string between them from day one. He would mention the way they looked at each other had to be more than just a small cafe crush, and that from that day, he could just tell they were meant to be.

“Could i, uhm.. possibly get your..” Hamzah was turning redder and redder with each word he spoke, his fingers fidgeting in his lap, and eyes now straight down, the floor his main focus.

The girl wasn’t stupid. She knew what he wanted, and she also knew she would be more than happy to oblige. He was cute, and she liked boys that weren’t scared to take initiative, even if his friend had to give him a pep talk. She had, indeed, heard the pair talking from across the cafe, their words echoing loudly.

“Yes” She replied bluntly, a toothy grin unwillingly leaving her, as she got out her small orders notebook, and scribbled the numbers down hastily, unable to contain herself.

Hamzah seemed a little surprised that she agreed, his face slowly turning to it original colour as she handed him the torn page with the scribbled numbers, their fingers passing each other with friction.

Martin viewed the scenario, smiling unaware. He was overjoyed for Hamzah, for finally putting himself out there, and finally, getting accepted.

“I guess i’ll call you then..” Hamzah spoke, a smile breaking out on his face as the reality came to him. He had asked for her number .. and she had said yes. Without him even to finish his sentence.

“I’d liked that, a lot” The barista said, the grin on her face everlasting as the bells above the door jingled, and she was alerted to more customers.

Hamzah’s eyes dimmed slightly, aware that before they even got the chance to talk, it had been taken away from them.

The girls head spun to the door, and then back to Hamzah, their eyes locking.

“My shift ends in thirty minutes.. can you wait?” She asked, her tone not pleading, but wanting.

Hamzah was about to answer, to say yes immediately, but turned to face Martin again, not wanting to let his best friend third wheel, like he himself had all those times before. He knew the feeling, watching two people in love with eachother, being, well, inlove.

“I.. uh..” Hamzah began, but was interrupted .

“He can and he will.” Martin hastily explained, standing up and gathering his bearings whilst grinning at Hamzah the entire time.

“Mandy’s waiting for me outside, so i’ll see you back at the studio, yeah?” He asked Hamzah, throwing his jacket over his shoulders.

Hamzah was grateful that the man would do this for him, and let him experience this by himself, without the invasion of friends or family. He softly smiled at martin, giving him a quaint nod, and turning back to the barista.

“I can wait”

———————-

authors note:

my apologies for not uploading this sooner, and for this being quite a short upload. i’ve had exams recently and have more in the future, as well as being tired from constant travelling, working and playing sports.

i hope this is enough to feed you lovely people for another little while, and i do take requests. any construction criticism or critique is greatly appreciated, and i hope you enjoy the rest of your day/night.

★ header from @tzushi on pinterest

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Seven - Communication Break

Part Six

———

Radio waves were the first sign that the intergalactic community got that there was intelligent life on Earth, as they traveled infinitely through space, language and music lightly introduced to scientists of several societies. Special equipment was designed to refine the weakened waves and check the sounds that originally traveled over them. It was interesting to learn about a civilization so far away.

Radio waves were a common communication tool across several planets, whether for entertainment or military operations. It was considerably easy to maintain and made communications between groups on the same planet more convenient. Most societies kept track of a certain number of channels to prevent conflict, you’d be stupid to have espionage over radio.

In roughly the area of space that Cybertron sits, the radio waves from Earth were from around twenty or more years ago, and were going though the systems for re-mastering the original audio. Unfortunately those who chose to listen to other worlds radio waves, it was now playing the original hits of the 1980’s, just before the Quintessons attacked.

—

Hound was standing there, staring through a wall in the general direction of the communication while the others lost their shit behind him, “He can’t actually mean Jazz, not like pilot Jazz, right?” Sideswipe stands and starts pacing, looking over to Sunstreaker, “We heard him over the delayed messages, we knew he made it to this planet. But there is no way he’s still alive.” Sunstreaker leans his head back against the wall, “It’s been five years and we’re the first group Mecha has bothered to send to find him, five years. Stuck with a bunch of aliens who have similar tech to our own.” It hung in the air for a moment, “Could they be fighting the same things we are?” To be perfectly honest, none of them had thought of that before.

What if those things were fighting the same thing they were, on this weird planet that was covered in metal and rained acid, fighting the tentacle monsters of nightmares, “Even if they are, our mission is to stop them from attacking Earth. Was to find Jazz and stop them from attacking Earth.” Hound turns to the others, who were all in states of shock, “Our focus needs to be on the mission, if we can actually find Jazz then that’s step one done.” Sideswipe stands, moving over to Hound, “If we get Jazz, we might actually be able to finish this mission.” Breakdown nods slowly, finally letting the hum of his cannon die, “That is if we can get off this planet, with the Odyssey.” “If these things trust Jazz, then I’m sure he can talk them into helping us.” Sunstreaker pops his knuckles lightly which causes his suit to creak painfully, Sideswipe winces and swats at his brother, “Don’t do that.” “Then stop biting your lip.” And they started to bicker as Breakdown got up, moving over to Hound.

“What do you think of this, really?” Breakdown leans towards Hound, they’d stayed off comms since Prowl’s abrupt appearance and disappearance; “I don’t like it, if these things are spread out attacking multiple planets? How are we going to find where their coming from and not where their attacking.” Breakdown hummed and shook his head, his visual feeds starting to pick up the beings heading towards them, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?” He sounded unsure of the saying but Hound nods with a smile, resting his hand on Breakdown’s shoulder, “You’re not wrong. But if these things are keeping Jazz hostage or worse, then they are the enemy.” Breakdown nods and keeps watching as the figures drew closer. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe standing, joining them near one of the walls.

—

The transmissions were near and clear, filled with typical battle chatter and sounds of explosions. Even if no one could make out exactly what they were saying, the same strange mechs as Jazz had activated the defense system of a solar farm off the coast of the sea of rust. It typically defended the area if the Quintessons landed in the sea or for the regular vermin that lived out there, it was over kill for the scraplets though.

It had been Blaster who’d picked up the signal and sent it to Prowl, knowing he was able to loosely translate the strange language. At which point Prowl had been in a meeting with Mirage, he’d gone from going over the recent reports to standing stock still, staring at nothing. For a click, Mirage let it slide, when Prowl continued to stare at nothing though, it was time to act. Standing and moving over to his commander, Mirage edges his way in front of him, “Commander, Cybertron to Porwl, sir.” He waved his servos in front of him, “Sir?” Prowl just about jumped out of his plating, “Mirage, I apologize, I was receiving a communication from Blaster.” Nodding slightly, Mirage steps back to give Prowl space. He watches in almost shock as Prowl drags his servos down his faceplates, the only time he looked like that was when it involved Jazz, “Sir, is it Jazz?” Mirage couldn’t help but ask, always finding their relationship so intriguing.

Prowl’s scowl was more typical, making Mirage smirk a bit, “No, it’s not Jazz, but it’s more of his kind.” That made the smirk fall and sent his spark to his peds, “More of them?” Jazz was a unique mech, needing more recharge but able to take more pain than any cybertronian. He was already becoming a mythic legend on the field, more of them could help keep the Quints off Cybertron. The gears were already turning in his processor. For Prowl though, who knew what Jazz really was, he was horrified. One of them, this Hound, had given a pilot number like Jazz did when trying to contact home. More pilots sent on a mission to their demise for the greater good of their planet, more who missed their families and home. Prowl could understand that, he’d have given just about anything to save Praxus, but he’d learned that giving your life for a cause didn’t mean much in the long run.

Raising a hand, Prowl silenced Mirage’s tirade, “Their out at the rust sea and likely are to attack anyone they come upon, since our weapons hit them first.” “Scrap.” Prowl nodded again before starting out of the room, Mirage hot on his peds, “I’ll need to contact Jazz along the way to alert him, their is a potential that he knew these other— mechs.” Biting his glossa, he nearly swore aloud at himself having to reframe from saying pilots. Mirage nods and falls in at Prowl’s side, “Do they know were coming?” Prowl delays for a second, “Not yet.” Nodding again, Mirage falls silent as Prowl contacts the strangers.

Out in the sunshine, they hurried into a transformation sequence, Prowl turning on his siren briefly to clear a bit of the traffic. Iacon was a sizable distance from the edge of the rust sea, the specific solar far that was current being attacked was on the edge of Polyhex, if they got on a high speed transport they could be there within clicks. Mirage stayed tight to Prowl’s bumper as they sped to the transport station, it wasn’t every day you got to meet other mechanicals; meeting Jazz has altered Prowl’s world so much and Mirage wanted a piece of that action.

They arrived at the station in record time and requested the fastest private transport, Prowl was still on comms so Mirage remained quiet, not wanting to be a distraction. Entering the transport, he took a seat away from Prowl and retrieved a datapad from his subspace, deciding to take the short amount of time they had on here to catch up on a report. Prowl glances up briefly before returning to stare towards nothing in particular, clearly deep in conversation with someone. His servo comes up to rub his jaw and Mirage has to hide a smile, he knew Prowl as speaking with Jazz. Jazz was the only mech who could make Prowl flustered, though it looked more exasperated than anything. Mirage sits back with his datapad, pausing only for a moment to read a message, swearing loudly, “The big yellow one took Beachcomber’s arm off.” Prowl looks up, “Fuck.” It was a moniker he’d picked up from Jazz but it often fit the situation.

—

Their sanctuary of the warehouse shook lightly as the approaching figures landed the transport, Hound adjust the grip on his gun lightly, fingers flexing, “Stay on your toes, we don’t know what they are.” It was a reminder that none of them needed. Hound was watching intently, eyes flicking between the displays on his visor, before pulling up an experimental piece of tech from Perceptor, turning the translator on in hopes it would eventually be able to discern their language. It was still a work in progress, the front liners back home all had them in hopes of learning the aliens language.

The twins were each shifting from foot to foot, both still splattered with the very pink fluid which had since dried to their plating. Breakdown kept turning down the command to reactivate his cannon, it clicking menacingly on his back and Hound stood straight with his gun held comfortably to his front. After several minutes, the rolling door in front of them opened and three mechs stood there, though one ran off once it was open.

Both had, odd, attachments to them. One painted reminiscently of older police vehicles and the other a very typical factory blue, but both had their odd features and neither was adorned with a facial shield. Each had a highly expressive and realistic facial unit, something that was often discussed back home to make the suits appear more friendly. Hound lightly raised his hand, lowering his gun, even though the one did not lower his cannon, he honestly couldn’t blame them. Clearing his throat slightly, Hound shifts his weight wanting to step forward but deciding against it, “Uh, hello there. We are Mecha pilots, from Earth.” The black and white mech raised his hand, clearing meaning to hold Hound off from talking further. Sideswipe leaned into his brother, “So, they don’t really know any English, do they?” “I doubt it.” Sunstreaker held his arms slightly up in a defensive position in case either chose to attack.

—

Standing there, Mirage knew they were talking in their strange language, he’d heard Jazz speak it several times but it was stressful to not know what they were talking about, “Any time Prowl, would love a translation.” All their heads whipped to him, visors glowing slightly brighter, “Their creatures must have been weird mecha to give them all visors.” He shifts back a bit, looking across them briefly though eyes landing on the green one, he started at the rifle hanging lightly from one hand, “A moment more Mirage, I am trying to get Jazz on the right signal.” “Jazz, is across the planet in Kaon with Megatron and the others dealing with the Quints there.” Prowl held his hand up again, annoyingly. Sometimes he wished his commander would just ask him to shut up, the green ones held tilted ever so slightly.

—

Static filled their comms, making them all wince and the twins tried to shield their ears, “Oh god, again?” Sideswipe was half bent over from the painful noise before the comm frequency clicked and fell silent, then the monotone voice spoke, “ID’s, now.” Hound sighed, it wasn’t the most friendly way of asking but he understood this man hardly spoke English before nodding slightly, “I’m Pilot 1124, Harold Jackson, call sign Hound.” The one he could only assume was Prowl nodded before turning his gaze to the next of the Arcturus crew, “I’m Pilot 2450, Sonny Salucci, callsign Sunstreaker.” “I’m Pilot 2451, Simon Salucci, ugly’s brother. Callsign Sideswipe.” Breakdown shifted uncomfortably before looking to Hound, who nodded, “I’m Pilot 1457, Oleksknder Kovalenko, callsign Breakdown.” There were several clicks and pops over the line, Hound winced and lightly rubbed one of his ears. The blue and white mech’s eyes widened, starting at the twins, Sideswipe shifted uneasily even as Prowl rested a hand on the other mechs shoulder.

A loud crash of sound filled their ears before the obvious sounds of fighting filled the comm line, “There is no way in hell that Hound would come on a dead end mission, it’s not possible.” Jazz’s voice filled their ears even as the clear sounds of his struggle joined the noise, “No way.” “That’s funny, because as you say, I am looking right at them.” Prowl’s voice joined Jazz’s, sounding much more relaxed than previously. Hound was staring at Prowl, taking a breath before finally speaking, “He would if he was looking for you.” There was a loud crash from the other side of the line, which Hound tried not to smile at, “Hey Hound.” “Hey Jazz.” He took a breath, relieved, stage one done.

“Holy shit, Jazz, hey!” Sideswipe turned away from the weird mechs and throw his hands up, likely smiling, “Fucking five years and all you can say is hey to Hound?” Both their laughter filled the comm line, it was more than a relief, it was more than they could hope for in the mission, “Where you at?” “Ah, you wont know where Kaon is, but we could use the help with the Quints.” Sideswipe stopped, tilting his head slightly and Hound cleared his throat again, “Quints?” There was another loud crash, “Ah, right. The aliens invading Earth have been attacking here too, for a hell of a lot longer. They’re the Quintessons, Quints for short.” Jazz paused, “They really need our help, the cybertronians aren’t quiet like us. Not people in mech suits, just mechs. What you see, is what they are.” He clearly sounded worried, “And they think we’re like them, only one who knows the truth for the moment is Prowler.” The mech across from them had his face plates turn a light shade of pink. Hound stared, in shock, for a while, “Well, we’ll need to move the Odyssey, then find Kaon I guess.” Prowl looked up at him, turning to the other one for a moment to say something in their strange language before motioning them out of the warehouse.

“Do we go with them?” Breakdown kept his voice down and off of comms, “Do we have any other choice?” Together, they followed Prowl out of their sanctuary.

———

A/N

Alright, did I work on this while my family was cooking Thanksgiving? Yes, was I supposed to be studying? Also yes, but they certainly did not need my help in the kitchen and I can study more now that it’s done.

I love seeing all your tags and comments, it’s been so great.

Tags!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU.

[starryredpandawrites]

Siblinks Turkey Shenanigans

In honor of the holiday, I have this silly Thanksgiving scenario stuck in my head that I want to get out that I might turn into a Bendy Bite someday. There's so much shenanigan potential I'm having trouble deciding what to keep and what to laugh about and move on from, so there's a poll at the end so y'all can help me decide.

Anyways, there are three ways I picture this scenario happening:

Option 1:

Audrey has been having a lot of fun introducing Bendy to all the holidays, and decides to surprise him with Thanksgiving. Big-little man loves to eat (both forms) and she knows he’s gonna love it. She’s also really looking forward to celebrating it because she hasn’t celebrated it since Joey died. Like, she was the type of person to be annoyed/sad that they were given the day off and wished that she could work instead because she had no-one to come home to. Now, she does! She doesn’t tell him she has the day off either, and is just hoping he sleeps long enough to get most of the cooking done so it’s a proper surprise.

A couple days before Thanksgiving, she sets the turkey in the fridge to thaw. She doesn't explain it to Bendy because she doesn't want to ruin the surprise and doesn't even think about it being necessary because who in the world would eat a raw turkey? (she recognizes her mistake later)

Problem: Bendy is a hungry boi, and often gets late night munchies as the Ink Demon. He sees the turkey in the fridge and is like, "A snack? For me?" and just eats the whole damn thing raw and partially frozen. In this scenario, he might leave Audrey a leg behind or something like that to be considerate (she's probably talked to him before about leaving her some when she's brought home big meals like this before).

Audrey wakes up, goes to work, gets home to find the turkey being gone and is, like, where tf is the turkey?!? until she remembers she's living with a demon and is surprised but not surprised because he used to eat whole people raw. She tries to goes out to buy another one but either the stores have already closed or they already ran out of turkeys. Also, it would have been too late to thaw it by then anyway. She might buy a ham or a chicken or something to replace it or she might just go home in defeat, saying they'll just celebrate it some other weekend.

However, Bendy feels really guilty for eating the turkey, even though Audrey told him it was partially her fault for not telling him what the turkey was for. So, that night, he sneaks out, and when Audrey wakes up she finds another surprise in her fridge. It's filled with dead birds. Pidgeons, sparrows, a duck or two and maybe even a pheasant.

Audrey freaks out and confronts Bendy, and he explains that he caught them to replace the turkey he ate. Audrey has another talk with him about not putting dead animals in the fridge but decides to go ahead and try using one of the larger birds for the dinner.

New problem: she has NO IDEA how much work goes into cleaning birds and this is back when the internet wasn't a thing. She sets Bendy on plucking duty to make up for his theft while she works on the other thanksgiving dishes. Bendy is a little miffed she doesn't want to try any of the other birds he brought home, but stops complaining after being given plucking duty (he hates it/finds it super boring/tedious and doesn't want to pluck anything else) Back to the bird, she tries to clean and prepare it the best she can, but it's gonna end up super gamey and weird, so she just eats a little and lets Bendy have the rest and focuses on the other dishes and her singular turkey leg.

They still enjoy the day together just by hanging out and watching all the thanksgiving/christmas themed shows on TV so the day is still a success. Audrey just makes a mental note to buy an extra turkey the next year just in case.

Option 2:

Audrey does tell him about Thanksgiving and they're both hyped about it. When Audrey sets the turkey out to thaw, she is very clear that it's for Thanksgiving, but doesn't outright tell him not to eat it because, again, most people wouldn't need to be told that. Bendy is not most people.

This time, however, he knows the turkey is for thanksgivng and he knows it's off-limits. The first night, he keeps opening and closing the fridge, walking away then walking back, over and over again while berating himself for being so weak. He stays strong through the first night, but halfway through the second night he gives in and just devours it.

On Thanksgiving Day, Audrey wakes up and is weirded out because usually Bendy likes to sleep in the same room as her, and he’s nowhere to be seen. Then, she realizes he must have done something he feels guilty about, and just runs to the kitchen to discover the missing turkey. This time, he's left nothing behind.

She chews him out, he's super guilty, she feels bad because it is his first Thanksgiving. She goes out to try and get something but all the stores are closed (this is before Walmart normalized being open all year). She comes back empty-handed to an empty apartment and is about to panic until Bendy comes back just in time with, you guessed it, more dead birds!

Again, Audrey chews him out for sneaking out in broad daylight but he excuses it since she explained to him earlier that almost everyone is home for the holiday and they needed a replacement bird.

Situation ends like the first, with Audrey trying and failing to cook one of the random birds and they just enjoy the rest of the day.

Option 3:

In the other two versions I imagined the Ink Demon going ham on the turkey late at night, but there's another option that's possibly funnier

Yanno how in my fic there's a memory disconnect/blurr of Bendy between his Ink Demon form and his Baby Benders form? Let's say Audrey sets the turkey out to defrost while the Ink Demon is watching soap operas or smg and tells him it's for Thanksgiving. Ink Demon kinda waves her off because he really wants to know if Missy is cheating on Peter with Austin, or if Austin is actually her long-lost brother like she claims.

They go to bed, Bendy wakes up as Baby Benders with midnight munchies, opens the fridge, sees the turkey and thinks, "A snack? For me?" and eats it as Baby Benders.

This scenario proceeds to play out like the other two OR

He goes to bed and wakes up early as the Ink Demon again, or he switches before going back to bed, realizes he screwed up, and immediately goes out to replace the turkey so when Audrey wakes up to not only a missing turkey, but also a bunch of dead birds in her fridge.

Now, I wanna know which one YOU guys (gender-neutral) think is more likely to happen, plus a couple bonus options because funny.

Bonus thought: After the first thanksgiving and seeing how much Bendy can eat, she decides to buy two turkeys and only cooks one of them/the other one is for Bendy. The year after that, she buys three. The year after that, she buys five. She could keep going but decides more than five is excessive and Bendy will just have to deal.

[benjaminvox]

"Loss is loss," Benjamin shrugs his shoulder, huffing a distant sound. Nowhere near a laugh, but more of an acknowledgment. "You shouldn't have had to go through that, anymore than I shouldn't have had to go through the things I did. Fuck, man. We were kids." watching as the beer arrived, and tilting his head in thanks.

The difference between the two men though? Benjamin's anger. That darkness that had been bred, and then honed. Living with vengeance was the only way he'd found any modicum of peace.

'You think it might right a wrong, give you closure — it won't'

Benjamin doesn't agree, and it says so as he shifts in his seat, causing the upturn of the corner of his lips. "Did you seek revenge? For your parents?" a pause. "Or are you guessing that it won't make me feel better?" There was a reason he'd been likened to Johnathan...that unwielded rage that most hadn't yet seen. The need to serve. The need to hurt. It lay under that young boy smile, the yet to age face.

And he needed somewhere to direct it. Finely educated, the only credentials he had was working for Melissa Lin. A title, and a fine reputation in itself...he'd bore quickly. He needed this.

'Whose fault is it then, Benjamin? Hers or yours?'

Benjamin doesn't answer immediately.

He sits on it. Traces condensation dripping down the glass in hand, cold seeping into his fingertips. His first instinct is to deflect, throw some biting comment back at Gideon that might force the conversation in some other direction, but the weight of it all, that fucking question settles heavily on top of him. His life, Melissa, his parents, Étienne...his brothers.

Benjamin felt like the world was weighing down on him, and he was it's sole bearer. It's not the first time he's wondered about it, too many times has it found it's way into his thoughts, his dreams...but having someone like Gideon ask it so bluntly strips away any excuse he might've leaned on.

Any chance he could escape those nightmares.

He's fucking lost. Staring. Like the young boy he was still, rummaging to the surface.

Benjamin hadn't quite lost that to his years yet.

"Both," he finally says, eyes vacant, blue a vast nothingness. He doesn’t look at Gideon, can't bare it, honestly: instead, his eyes finds the drink in his hand. "It'd be hers for pulling the trigger. Mine for giving her the reason to, I guess."

Loyalty was a dog: and he was her hound. Benjamin knows it’s not the answer Gideon wants, not the clean division of responsibility he'd probably hoped to hear. And he wouldn't lie to him, his mind had been moulded to Melissa Lin's tactics some eleven years ago...there was no changing his heel. But it’s the truth as Benjamin sees it. Melissa isn’t without her flaws, but she’s always been clear about the stakes. He accepted them the day he stepped into her world.

Into the Rutherford name. And while she commanded it, he obeyed.

He leans back, letting the chair creak under his weight. "Look, I’m not saying she’s perfect. Far from it, fuckin' hell...I'm meant to be smart, right. But... I owe her. A fuckin' lot. Not just for keeping me alive, but for making me into something. Someone. And yeah, that comes with risks. But doesn’t everything?"

Jabbing a finger over his shoulder, he shakes his head -- aware that there were parts of Melissa that Gideon refused to see. To acknowledge. "My parent's killer is here...drinking, laughing...and Melissa's checked in on me every two hours." The side eye, shoulders shrugging. She was his family. Benjamin knows he's justifying, fuckin' rationalizing. Gideon can probably see through it, but it’s the only way he’s ever been able to make peace. "I know you think I’m just another pawn in her game. And maybe I am. But...I chose this life. I know exactly what I signed up for."

Raising his glass, he huffs. "So if she shoots me one day? At least I’ll go down knowing I didn’t sit back and let the world tear me a-fuckin-part." He leans forward, his elbows on the table. "What about you? You’ve seen the same shit I have. What made you realise you'd never want...this" he knew Melissa well, knew a lot of what went on in the Rutherford's -- it was his job to know.

After everything Benjamin reveals about his past, it's less what he says and more how his voice breaks hoarsely over that single word, 'yep', that coaxes Gideon's begrudging sympathy for him. Silently, he hails the bartender, ordering another round of beers for them. Tonight, Benjamin can acquire his own, compliments of his allocation to the rich tents, but there's some goodwill hidden in the gesture nonetheless.

"It isn't all that similar, and I won't pretend that it is." He replies, concerning the demise of both their biological parents. "A car accident doesn't quite leave the same scars as death by unnecessary violence, and I certainly wouldn't have wanted to see what you stepped into, that day you found their bodies." No, it'd be insensitive to claim that he understood what Benjamin had experienced.

But he does understand loss, through and through. Time and time again.

'I can't let it go.' — That's what he's afraid of, that's the part that will consume the boy, if he lets it. Because the Rutherford's seen that too. Time and time again.

"There are plenty of occupations that don't involve breaking the law, Ben." Lest the young man feel he's trying to step into the role of father, unsolicited, Gideon adds;

"I'm just saying. And the thing about anger, is that there's no end to it. Your anger won't bring them back. Murdering Étienne won't bring them back. You think it might right a wrong, give you closure — it won't." He's seen it play out too many times among other members in his father's mob. Recruited with the sweet promise of vengeance, only to find it hollow once they'd sacrificed everything to obtain it.

'And if I die for it, then... That’s on me.'

Gideon takes another sip of his beer. "You haven't answered the question." The bottle settles back on the table, and the surgeon fixes him with a scrutinizing look. "I'm not asking if you die out of bad luck. I'm saying imagine a scenario where you change your mind. Where you decide 'to hell with it, I don't want to work for Ms. Lin anymore', and she shoots you point blank in return. Whose fault is it then, Benjamin? Hers or yours?"

[nonovyabuisness]

Hey, funny story that just happened a few minutes ago.

So it’s 11pm and I’m feeling down and therefore unable to sleep.

So I decided to clear my head by having a stroll in the public park near my apartment. I get dressed, take my phone,AirPods, keys as well as my pepper spray that looks like gun just in case.

( I already did this before once at 12pm- 1am and nothing had gone wrong. I just eavesdropped on a couple breaking up in the parking lot before the entrance of the park.)

So I’m casually strolling through the park which has areas that have a dense but manageable forest. And I decide to take the small off-trail path that pass through said areas like I did last time.

( Last time I deviated, my phone’s flashlight illuminated two cats’s eyes which scared me before I remembered seeing them near my apartment.)

But this time, I continued on the path further off-trail wondering where it lead. Until I heard a mix between a growl and a bark. I immediately assume it’s a dog (either belonging to someone or a wild dog) and I backtrack while holding my pepper spray and occasionally checking behind me to see if it’s following me.

I quickly get back on the main path and take a break to look at the starry sky (that is surprisingly clear for being in the city) before I decide to head back.

Then as I walk, I heard the growl/bark again. Terrified.I put my flashlight on the highest setting, take out my pepper spray with my finger on the trigger and slowly continue to walk to the illuminated crossroads while pointing the flashlight and looking in the direction of the noise.

A few steps forward and I find out that it’s in fact not a dog but a wild boar. Which makes it worse.

Because a wild dog will most likely flee the second I move, but a boar will either flee or charge me.

So I’m just frozen on the spot having a staring contest with the f*cking boar, before I regain control over my body.

I think I twitched when that happened and the boar (who had its head down like it was preparing to charge) ran off.

I then immediately headed back to my apartment and am now writing this.

I don’t know if there is more than one boar. But, I think it was the same one I heard before and it followed me discreetly.

Unfortunately for you all, I froze up completely and couldn’t take a picture of it and I frankly don’t want to try.

Anyway, since it’s a public park in the middle of the city where people take their kids and walk their dogs, I’m gonna contact the closest animal refuge to give them a heads up.

I don’t want to feel responsible when either a kid or a dog ends up running into it and possibly injuring themselves or the boar.

But, what a way to see a living wild boar in real life. I live in France, Montpellier (a rather major city especially for college/university students). So that was unexpected.

For anyone wondering what the boar looked like when I was staring at it, have an exemple.

Also this is what my pepper spray looks like,

Have a good night everyone !

[hedgehog-moss]

I saw an astronaut walking on the side of the road today, which is the kind of thing my brain will placidly accept at first, only to go "Wait, an astronaut" a minute later once I'm done with my previous train of thought. By then I felt like it might be too late to stop my car, but I ended up stopping anyway because I didn't want to spend the rest of the afternoon wondering.

I waited for the astronaut to catch up with me since they were going in my direction, but they didn't. Eventually I got out of the car and retraced my steps, and after a bend in the road when I saw no one walking towards me I decided the visitor must have gone back to their spacecraft and I would never get an explanation for this—and then in the distance I caught a glimpse of the white space suit disappearing into the forest.

I managed to catch up with them and they turned out to be a distant neighbour of mine (let's call her M.), and what looked like a space suit when I was driving by was a beekeeper's outfit! (Sorry for the pointless suspense but I was taking you on the same little journey my brain went through.) M. was tickled when she learnt that I mistook her for an astronaut—she told me she'd borrowed her husband's too-big shoes which made her drag her feet, hence why she looked like she was having trouble readjusting to Earth's gravity.

Then she said that one of her hives had swarmed, and she was pretty sure she knew where the swarm was. I had no idea how swarming worked so as we walked in the woods she explained that when a hive becomes too crowded, the queen will get replaced by a new one, and the old queen will leave along with half of the bees. After this split, the swarm will cluster somewhere nearby and wait while scout bees fly away in search of a new hive location. "That's when you have to catch them—if you can find the swarm. But here it is!"

I wasn't expecting quite so many bees!! I'm pretty scared of all flying creatures so allow me to pat myself on the back for what came next—I thought I was about to learn how to catch a swarm from a prudent distance, but M. asked if I could give her a hand, seeing as her husband was supposed to be here to help but clearly wasn't.

The first step of catching a swarm was spraying the bees with sugar water, and I was glad not to be asked to help with that, as it seemed like something that could make bees angry. ("On the contrary, it makes them less agitated!" I was told, but that remained to be seen.) Step 2 was pulling on a rope tied to the tree branch in order to lower the swarm into the new hive, and that was the job I was recruited for. The rope was long enough that I could stand several metres away to pull on it, but my role in this swarm-catching business was still all too clear to any angry bee looking for someone to blame.

I remembered reading that bees can sense the electric field of flowers, so I thought there was no way they wouldn't sense the staticky nervousness coming from the rope-puller, but thankfully they completely ignored me.

M. was offering one fun fact about bees after the other, in a very relaxed voice, which was very interesting and very soothing for both me and the bees. She said this particular colony was very sweet ("some bee colonies are meaner than others?" "yes of course"), and that swarming usually happens a bit earlier in the year "but it's been raining so much lately, the bees had to postpone all their activities, just like us" and also "swarming involves quite a bit of planning ahead of time; for example worker bees have to put the queen on a diet so she won't be too fat to fly. Did you know that?" I did not!

Unfortunately our first attempt to catch the swarm failed. The bees entered the hive, had a quick look around their new home, then left in disgust and formed a thick, angry, buzzing cloud over our heads, while I tried to think nothing but bee-loving thoughts to make my electric field harmless and friendly.

Then one after the other all the bees returned to the exact same spot on the branch where we'd first found them. ("Because it smells like the queen" said M.) We examined the near-empty hive and found that a mouse had made a nest in there! She was no longer here but the traces of her passage were evident (some of the comb was very nibbled.)

As we were removing the supplies brought in by the mouse (sticks, hay), M.'s husband joined us and he had brought a spray bottle containing some sort of bee-attracting liquid (pheromones?) (I didn't have a close look at the bottle because I made sure to stay far away from the bee-attracting liquid, while he sprayed it inside the hive.)

He had also brought a white sheet which he spread under the tree, explaining that the bees will want to get away from the bright surface and look for darkness, thus hopefully getting inside the box. Another thing I learnt is that once the queen enters the hive, the nearest worker bees will spread the message by turning round and fluttering their wings to send a chemical signal in specific directions, which will be picked up by other bees farther away; at strategic intervals some bees will light the beacons of Gondor turn round and fan their wings to relay this scent-message until the entire colony is informed of the queen's new location.

We were more successful the second time around! This time the bees who went in didn't immediately get out again to return to their branch. Well I say "we" but I didn't volunteer to pull on the rope again, so I can't claim any role in this victory. But my personal victory was that I stood quite a bit nearer this time so I could watch everything closely, and I felt more intrigued than nervous. Bees were constantly zipping past me but it had become clear that my electric field was pure and they bore me no ill will. I was always fond of bees from afar and happy to see them do their thing in flowers in the spring, but today's adventure got me interested in their daily life as well, so I think I'll read some books about bees this summer!

I was reading last month about the morality of termite colonies (Maeterlinck's La vie des termites) and I had a feeling this man must have written some poetic stuff about bees as well—and he did. Here's a translated excerpt from his book "La vie des abeilles" :)

[grison-in-space]

golly, I am being wordy today.

Via Metafilter:

Someone on MeFi tagged me in and asked me to chime in in my capacity as a rodent person, so here were my thoughts and observations:

First thought, looking at that video: that is no house mouse. Not only is the head wrong--too narrow at the back, eyes are a bit big--but that very clear countershading is not something you generally see on wild house mice. So what kind of mouse is it? If this was in the US, I would assume it was a Peromyscus (deer mouse) species, which often gleefully invade our homes, but do they have Peromyscus in Wales? In North America, this is relevant because deer mouse species often have very elaborated burrowing and pair bonding systems, and this looks like nesting behavior off the top of my head. What sort of mouse is this? The Woodland UK Trust suggests that this is probably a wood (or field) mouse: Apodemus sylvaticus. (There are glorious big photos there which can help you see what I mean.) Okay, I don't know that much about Apodemus spp. behavior, so what do we know about their nesting behavior? Well, I chased a couple of false leads, then circled back to find out what is notable about wood mice, which is that they are known to not only navigate by the use of landmarks, but to organize their environments to place small objects around their environments in order to make navigation and orienting themselves across their large territories more effectively! So this mouse is probably irritably putting things back in place as an aid to its own memory of where everything is and where it can most effectively pilfer snacks, nest locations, or other useful mouse items within its environment. That is, the mouse wants a tidy shed for exactly the same reasons a human might want a tidy shed: so it can find things it's looking for when it wants to! Wood mice, by the way, are human commensals and quite common in Europe and the British Isles, so this is in no way a refutation of the idea that this behavior might have influenced human folklore and ideas about house spirits or similar. Certainly wood mice, like any mouse, are unlikely to turn up a bowl of milk if there's one put out for it--although neither are house cats, which would certainly prey on them.

rather delighted, so I'm sharing this more widely over here.

[jullbnt]

I found the dragons' heads a bit weird as well when I first saw them up close but I got used to it and now I find them rather endearing ^^

It's not weird to fixate on their eye placement, it makes sense! But to me they are giant guardian spirits that are neither prey nor predator and watch over Hyrule from the skies, so it makes sense that they would need to see in a wide circle around them?

You are perfectly allowed to prefer the ones from SS haha! I actually didn't mind their bodies and robes (I thought they were a nice touch too), but I've always been bothered by their faces and voices.

I think the sea drying up could actually be in favor of Lanayru (or Lanello if you prefer!) being the Water Dragon, because it would make sense for the Goddesses to choose a guardian with the power to protect the province from desertification. Then the dragon would get sick and die the way Lanayru does in SS, which would cause the climate change, and by reviving him/her Link could later allow the region to flourish again. I don’t know I think it would make sense!

I’ve also been thinking that this could explain the swap in BotW. The Water Dragon could move to Lanayru after SS in order to make the land greener and bring back the sea (becoming known as Naydra by the time of BotW), while the Thunder Dragon would replace her in Faron and turn the forest into a jungle (and later be known as Farosh). That would explain why Lake Floria looks the same as the one from SS with a different climate. But maybe I’m trying too hard to make this work, I don’t know.

(Also I tend to believe that Hylia is the Goddess of Time, but that's another debate!)

Even if Rauru only believed Hyrule was a legend he could have said so ^^ "I named my kingdom Hyrule because of the old legends that speak of a land blessed by the Goddesses… ", something like that!

A continent might be an exaggeration, in fact I usually think Hyrule would be as big as a few European countries put together. I just like to imagine that Link would travel for months during his quest ^^

It was never clear to me why exactly Zelda was struggling in BotW, but whatever its intention was I think the game showed that she was wrong to prioritize technology over religion. People always blame Rhoam but he was right in the end, the only thing that could save the kingdom was Zelda’s sacred power coupled with Link’s abilities. The guardians even caused more destruction than Ganon himself! It's almost like there could be a message there about technology/modernity vs. religion/tradition, but maybe I'm going too far or this wasn't intended.

Yes I think they should not be called Sages! It wouldn't change the fact that you can beat Ganondorf without them but then I wouln't care about it as much as I do!

I agree with you on the lack of magic, and the technology in TotK sometimes doesn’t even look like it belongs in a fantasy universe (the fans, wheels and rockets look so ugly/modern and out of place to me).

You're so right about freedom in games! I miss discovering new items or powers along the way and the sense of progression it brought. It also allowed for more puzzle variety instead of using the same four powers all the time, and could open new areas on the map that weren’t accessible from the start (for example it was so satisfying and exciting to finally be able to enter Gerudo Valley in OoT after being stuck at the bridge for most of the game).

Stories also need some sort of linearity in my opinion. TotK's story would be better if Link wasn’t able to learn about the Light Dragon before doing anything else or didn’t withhold that information from other characters for the sake of the silly "fake Zelda" plot.

Yes being able to defeat Ganon and Ganondorf from the start definitely cheapens things, especially in BotW where Link wasn't able to do it 100 years before with the Master Sword in hand. If he can do it barefoot with a stick after being awake for only a few hours, it kind of makes his old self look bad!

Not only did Nintendo create a precedence about the Master Sword being needed to fight Ganon/Ganondorf, but they also showed it on the taspestry in BotW and Link was chosen by the Sword for the purpose of defeating the Calamity, so it feels really wrong that you can beat the game without it.

I agree that the Triforce of Power's abilities haven't been clearly defined (same for Wisdom and Courage), but I think we can assume it would be the biggest source of power in this universe (after all it's a fragment of Din's power). It also seems to make its bearer nearly impossible to kill, since in OoT Ganondorf has to be sealed in the Sacred Realm and in TP he survives his execution thanks to the Triforce. Then it's unclear what exactly happens but he doesn't die until the symbol fades from his hand.

Yes that's just my take on Minish Cap, maybe I need to think a bit more about how it can fit. But even the map is unique, it really feels like it's own thing.

Glad you like Promenade! It's a nice word indeed ^^

Hi, sorry if this is a bit rude. 😅 I guess that I was just wondering. How would Jabul Waters, Zora Cove, & Crossflows Plaza be named in French?

I'm trying to give Jabul Waters an interesting name that works to go with my hc & I came up with "Jabuleaux." And Google Translate tells me that Crossflows Plaza would be Place des Flux Croisés. And, I'm seeing that Anse is the term to refer to a cove &, if that's true, then would Zora Cove be Zoranse? At the same time, somewhere else, it said that Anse actually means beach.

And, I believe that a town by a swamp would have cher, quier, bren, brin, or Hor- in it?

I'm sorry if this is weird... 😅

Hi! Don't worry it's not rude or weird at all! I offered to help and I'm happy to do so :D

Did you check the official French translations? I had a surprisingly hard time finding the French version of the map online so here's a screenshot I took myself:

Jabul Waters = Eaux de Jabule (this one only appears when I zoom out)

Zora Cove = Baie Zora

Crossflows Plaza = Place de l'Estuaire

In case you didn't know the Zelda Wiki often lists names for places or characters in various languages in the "Nomenclature" section of its pages. It's very helpful especially if you're searching for the original Japanese names. If we look at at the different names for Crossflows Plaza we can see that a literal translation from Japanese would be something like "Exchanging Place". I checked the Jisho dictionary and it seems to be an accurate translation, though "Place for Cultural Exchanges" would be more meaningful.

It's not exactly a good name in English so it makes sense that the localization team would come up with something like Crossflows Plaza instead, which in my opinion does a very good job of stating that this is both the place where the river meets the sea and where the two Zora tribes traditionally meet each other.

Other European languages all settled for variations of "Estuary Plaza" ("Place de l'Estuaire" in French), which is fine but looses the "cultural exchanges" aspect of both the original name and the English translation.

I've been trying to come up with a French translation of "Crossflows Plaza" but it's not that easy. To me "Place des Flots Croisés" or "Place Flots-Croisés" would sound better than "Place des Flux Croisés", but I still find it a bit weird ("flot" meaning flow, tide or stream). "La Croisée des Flots" is another option if you agree to get rid of Plaza/Place (it means "the intersection/junction of streams"), but I don't think it works very well as a name.

You could also mix words to create a name the same way it was done in English, something like "Place Croiseaux" (croiser/cross + eau/waters). If any of my French speaking followers is feeling inspired, please share your ideas! :)

(I just thought of "Place Cruciflot" and found it too funny not to mention 😆 maybe it sounds too much like crucifix)

In French we also have the word "confluence" that has the exact same meaning as it does in English: either the meeting of two rivers or a gathering of some kind. So to me the most obvious translation would be something like "Place des Confluences" or maybe "Place Confluence", as it would preserve the dual meaning, but it's not very fancy or creative. Maybe we could simply change the spelling to something like Place Konfluans, the same way "Village Côtier" (Seaside Village) is spelled "Village Kothié" (Seesyde Village). But it doesn't look like a French word anymore so I'm not sure that's something you'd like.

As for Jabuleaux, it can work but I prefer the official translation "Eaux de Jabule". Same thing for Zoranse, we would say "Anse Zora" or "Anse des Zora". The official French translation is "Baie Zora" (Zora Bay), which I think is more appropriate given the size of the sea inlet (in my understanding an anse/cove is a small baie/bay and isn't very deep). I think maybe it should have been bay in English as well instead of cove, but I might be wrong! Also I believe "anse" isn't used as often as "baie" and might be confusing for most people, so I would go with "Baie Zora".

I'm not sure where you found this information about swamps and town names? I didn't find anything to confirm it but I might not have looked in the right places.

French towns are often ancient and their names can derive from other languages such as Celtic, Occitan, Flemish, or regional dialects, so that's a very difficult question and I'm not sure I can give you a satisfying answer ^^

I still did a little search and found an Old French word for swamp, "palud" or "palu", that still appears in some town names such as La Palud-sur-Verdon, Saint-Pierre-la-Palud, Lapalud, etc. (today we say "marais" or "marécage"). You might be right about "bren", it could be something like muddy in Gallic.

There's also "vign" or "mign" (from Celtic), as in Mignéville or Lévignac, or l'Île de Migneaux on the Seine river (this one's in my city!).

Near where I grew up is a town named Hazebrouck, it literally means "hare swamp" (brouck/broek = swamp in Flemish). For a bit more French flavor you could maybe use -broucq or -breucq instead of -brouck.

I think the vast majority of French people have no clue about all of that (I didn't except for the last one and it's more Flemish than French), so I'd say don't oversweat it ;)

And that's all! I hope you'll find this helpful ^^

[kacchans-waifu]

A BUSINESS PROPOSAL — the pro-hero, dynamite, is forced on a date with some ceo's daughter. except, it's just you and your best friend doing your absolute best to scare him away.

word count: 2.4k

cw: suggestive, fluff, not proofread

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for quite literally a year. i decided to rewatch the drama and omggggg i still love it. i might make a part two bc this was kinda fun to write.

requests

pro-hero, katsuki bakugou, was rapidly climbing the hero ranks the moment he graduated high school. by the time he was 23, he was already one of japan’s top heroes. he had been working his ass off, spending countless hours training and fighting for the dream he had worked for since he was a child, and all of his hard work had finally come to fruition.

unfortunately, there was one thing he didn’t have.

“you need to get a girlfriend, katsuki.”

the blond found himself now trapped in another dreadful conversation with his mother. for the past year, his mother had been pestering him about finding a partner and it made him want to tear his hair out. he groaned as he did his best to tune her out.

“i’m being serious, katsuki,” she pestered, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “we’re both getting older and I want grandbabies.”

“you’re not getting any fucking grandbabies if you keep fucking bothering me about it,” the man huffed. “i don’t know why you care so much about me fucking some chick. it’s creepy.”

mitsuki scoffed. “well, sorry I don’t want to you die alone and unhappy.”

those words still ricocheted in his head as he shuffled through paperwork a few weeks later. die alone, he thought. like hell, I need some woman and kid slowing me down.

there was a soft knock on the door of his office followed by the calm voice of his assistant. “mr. bakugou?”

“open,” he responded, not looking up from the papers.

his assistant walked in, closing the door behind him. “todoroki’s agency wanted to ask how the paperwork is coming along.”

“tell him to leave me alone.”

the still unnamed assistant checked his watch, huffing. “sir—” he leaned forward, the tablet in his hand now curled up near his chest— “have you called your mother at all today?”

katsuki raised his eyes, immediately suspicious. “why?”

“yes or no, sir?”

he sighed. “no, I have not.”

“that explains it,” the assistant muttered, leaning back. “she wanted me to tell you that she-”

“KATSUKI!” like clockwork, mitsuki stormed through the double doors of katsuki’s office. the man swore under his breath. the assistant stood aside as the older woman made her way to her son’s desk. “I have incredible news for you!~”

he place the papers on the desk and pinched the bridge of his nose, anticipating the worst. “oh boy, I wonder what it could be,” he spoke, sarcasm lacing his jaded voice.

“curb your enthusiasm, buddy.” mitsuki stood tall. “the ceo of XXXXX has agreed to a blind date with his daughter!” she did jazz hands to emphasize it.

katsuki froze. “sorry?”

“you’re going on a blind date with the ceo’s daughter.” she did the jazz hands again.

“are you fucking kidding me?!” katsuki began to raise his voice, evidently pissed off. “you went and set up some blind date with a random woman because you want some fucking grandkids!?”

“I fail to see the issue katsuki.”

“well, there’s fucking plenty!”

“listen, and listen well; you’re going to find a woman to settle down with whether you like it or not, katsuki. plus, wouldn’t marrying into a ceo’s family be good for business?”

“this is fucking ridiculous.” the man stood up and was ready to leave. “it’s not happening. i’m busy all this month.”

“not anymore!~” mitsuki had the biggest shit-eating grin the man had ever seen.

katsuki looked over at his assistant, eyebrow cocked. “that’s what I was trying to tell you, sir, before she…” he shifted his gaze to the older woman “…before she walked in.”

“i also had him clear your schedule.” she chimed in.

katsuki huffed, wanting the world to swallow him whole.

~

“another one? did he forget every other date you’ve gone on?”

your friend had invited you to a nice debrief at the cafe you two had been eyeing for a while. being from a wealthy business family, it was common place for her parents to try and marry her off, but your friend would rather eat lead than have anything to do with this.

your friend huffed, crossing her arms as she looked out at the nearby street. “that’s what I’m saying.”

“and you literally have no idea who this dude could be?”

“well, it is a blind date after all.” she looked back at you, hands now on the table. “but he knows I don’t wanna be set up with some dude just because he’s rich. I only plan to marry for love.” she waved her hands in a rainbow motion on the word “love” to really get the point home.

you took a sip from your drink. “your dad, yeah. doesn’t he know we’re just gonna scare him away again?”

she raised her coffee cup to her lip, chuckling a bit. memories of your two’s shenanigans flooding her mind. “should we do that again?”

“is that even a question,” you grinned.

~

you and your friend had planned for you to go on the date instead. you’d be dressed neatly in expensive clothing borrowed from your friend. she gave you a cute makeup look to make you look expensive and a pretty wig with scarily realistic hair.

the plan was simple:

be as unappealing as possible.

you sat down and waited for your friend’s date to show up. as you waited, you did your best to calm your nerves and fix your makeup a bit. after a few minutes of waiting, a deep voice spoke from behind you.

“you XXXX XXXXXXXXX?”

startled, the compact mirror in your hand shook. you turned around and began to shake even more. the man your friend had been set up with, the man you are about to scare off, the man standing in front of you right now was absolutely, unbelievably attractive. what was his name again?

katsuki bakugou.

katsuki saw your eyes widen for a moment and was about to leave, a bit worried that you were the wrong person.

“yes,” you answered, voice a bit meeker than you had hoped. not only was he undeniably attractive, but he looked oddly familiar. was he some kind of model or actor? “take a seat.” you gestured to the seat across from you.

the blond sat down, visibly uninterested. you, on the other hand, were doing your absolute best to calm your nerves, hands trembling a bit as you raised your water glass to your lips. you took a deep breath. you were determined to make this date fail.

thus began tactic number one.

you let out a deep sigh, drawing katsuki’s attention. “it’s warm in here, isn’t it,” you asked smugly, carefully peeling your jacket off. the dress you were wearing underneath was sleeveless and showed off your shoulders and collarbone. it was far from warm in the restaurant you two sat in, but you were without a doubt going to pretend you were burning up.

no one likes a woman that shows too much skin.

katsuki didn’t even bother with a verbal response. instead, he just cocked an eyebrow. he examined you as you practically flaunted your arms and noticed goosebumps painting the exposed skin. “you have goosebumps.”

crap.

you chuckled, fixing your hair. “i just get goosebumps a lot.”

time for the next strategy.

you kicked your foot against the table. you fake winced, saying a sweet “sorry” as you pulled your leg back. your voice then switched to a high-pitched baby voice as you cooed at your expensive heels, gently brushing them. “it’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” you then turned your attention to the equally expensive clutch near you. “oh, did you get scared, baby?” you continued cooing and kissing your clutch.

a woman crazy about luxury goods. how’s that for a turn-off?

you looked away from the clutch and watched as katsuki typed away on his phone.

was your performance not worth watching?

“what are you doing?”

katsuki’s head darted up before he sheepishly tucked his phone away. “a text from work. sorry.”

this won’t do. on to my last resort.

“I’m so sad,” you blurted out.

“what?”

you crossed your arms, huffing. “I’m so sad. you seem so uninterested in me.” you pouted. “it’s making samantha and rachel very sad.”

the blond’s brows furrowed as he took a sip out of his cup. “samantha and rachel?”

you smirked, holding the sides of the table so your chest was open. “the left one is samantha. right is rachel. i spent a wopping half a million a piece on these babies.”

he nearly choked on his water, coughing as he placed it back on the table. you did your absolute best to not break character. you giggled, leaning back in your seat. “i’m rambling, aren’t i?”

one could say this was your best performance. there was no way in hell that he was going to ask for a second date.

—

“HE ASKED FOR A SECOND DATE?!”

you sat with your head in your hands across from your friend. “I did my best, I swear.”

“if you did your best then why am I going on a second date with him,” she asked, practically crushing her cup.

“he was very persistent, in my defense.”

your friend sighed lowly. “jeez, I guess I’ll have to go and scare him away myself.”

“how,” you asked, lazily looking back up her. “he thinks you look like me.”

“well, i don’t want to see him anymore regardless, so him finding out you’re not the real me should only drive him further, yeah?” your friend feigned calmness as she said that, but you could tell that she was thoroughly irritated. you watched as coffee leaked from under her lid and onto her fingers. she was no indeed crushing the cup.

sheepishly you offered, “I’ll buy you a new drink.”

—

“you want to…meet her again?”

katsuki decided to visit izuku on his lunch break. they were in a nearby cafe, casually debriefing about how their days had been going. izuku, like most of katsuki’s friends, had long known of his mother’s desire for her son to get married and have kids. katsuki had told izuku about the date his mom had set him up on, complaining about how that “old hag”, in his words, had no respect for his boundaries and was weirdly obsessed with him getting hitched off. so izuku was very surprised to hear that the dreaded date went well.

“yeah,” he admitted, digging his fork into his pasta. “I mean, she didn’t seem half bad.” he looked back up at izuku, who held a stunned expression. “quit looking at me like that.”

“sorry, I just didn’t expect for it to have gone so well. she must be a real catch.”

katsuki thought back to what you considered a disaster of a date. it had been so long since he’d met such a straightforward woman. you came across as so honest, so genuine. he…liked that about you. and sure, you were pretty and wealthy, but things like that meant nothing to him. he’d be a liar if he said he couldn’t stop thinking about you on the drive back to his apartment. “i guess so.”

suddenly, there was a loud crash outside followed by a scream. the two men perked up, both now looking out the window. a villain attack?

at the sound of another crash, they dove out of the cafe and onto the street to be met with what they expected. what katsuki didn’t expect was to see was a woman that looked suspiciously familiar.

you had somehow ended up in the middle of the crossfire of this low-ranking villain’s attack. if a hero hadn’t saved you just in time, you would’ve gotten seriously hurt. unfortunately, the moment you got a good look at the hero that saved you, you realized why the man your friend was set up with looked so familiar.

you had gone on a date with the top hero, dynamite.

the two of you stared at each other, face inches apart. katsuki examined your face. he could barely believe it. here you were, standing right in front of him, and he had just saved your life. now would be a bad time to ask you on a second date, right?

“you’re the…”

quickly, you backed away and bowed. “t-thank you so much!” you tried to run away, face burning with anxiety, but his large hand instinctually grabbed your wrist.

“wait a second, how the hell did you get yourself caught up in a villain attack?”

“it was an accident, really,” you said as you attempted to wiggle yourself out of his grip.

“y/n, are you okay,” you friend asked, running up to you. she had gotten separated from you when the attack started. however, she halted the moment she saw katsuki right next to you. “oh no..”

katsuki’s brows furrowed. “y/n?” that’s not your name, he thought. his grip loosened just enough for you to release yourself.

your heart was racing. katsuki, decked out in his signature costume, looked at you with the most perplexed expression you had ever seen. you jogged up to your friend, trying to push her away. “XXXX, we should go,” you muttered.

“hey,” katsuki called out. “you just got attacked by a villain.”

“we’re just fine,” you friend responded.

“i was telling her, not you.” he didn’t want to believe it, but the name your friend called you rang through his head like bullets. it couldn’t have been a nickname. it sounded nothing like the name he knew you as. could it really be…

“let me walk you to the police station, y/n. i have a lot to ask you.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Hybrid Town (1) | Only Human

In a world filled with humans and hybrids attempting to find balance with one another, you are but a simple human trying to integrate into the town on the property your late grandparent bequeathed to you. The town just so happens to have a small population of farming hybrids, with hardly any other humans around. 

“So you’re the inheritor…(Y/n)? (L/n)?”

“Yes, I have my I.D. if you want to check.”

“..Right….but the owner of the original property was a hybrid…you are not.”

“Not that it matters. But my grandfather’s partner was a Wolf hybrid…They both agreed to give it to me when they both passed.”

“I..see.”

It might be right to call it racism or maybe more accurately it’s specism and the townsfolk aren’t all that keen on hiding it. They openly sneer at you when you do come to town, whispering loudly about what they’ve heard, and rolling their eyes if you have the gall to ask them a question. 

“Can I get these bags of mulch in bulk?”

“...so what are ya talkin’ to me for? Just grab ‘em.”

“Your sign says to ‘ask for more at the front desk.’”

“...Fine dirt monkey. How much?”

It doesn’t bother you…sometimes. You mostly spend your days on your property, having picnics in the open fields you now own. Spending time renovating your cottage with all the custom plumbing and electricity you learn to install yourself. Wouldn’t want some unfriendly technician in town doing it instead. Anyways you get into the routine of sustaining yourself in your lonesome working from home and relying on your savings to help you enjoy your new life. That doesn’t stop until the one fateful day…you’re lounging on your deck when you hear something faint. It sounds like crying. 

“Waaaaa!”

It sounds like a child…which isn’t unfamiliar, after all your neighbors do seem to be a little family. Of course, they don’t want to talk to you but that’s fine.

“Waaaa!”

It sounds pretty intense but you’re sure it’ll stop soon. 

“Waaaaa! Somebody help, please!”

Now it feels wrong to ignore it any longer. You quickly fix yourself to head over, driving the tractor that you ride across your property to the fence that represents the beginning of your neighbor’s property. It was short work to hop over the fence and hear the crying persisting. Running to the back porch of the house, you see a little dog boy crying his heart out. 

“I heard you crying what’s wrong?”

The kid starts blubbering wiping at tears and snot on his face. After some calming pats between the ears and some promises to help you can get a clear picture.

“Mama fell ‘ver and she won’t wake up!”

You run inside to find exactly that. A dog woman face down on the floor while the soup on the stove boils out and whatever’s in the oven beginning to smoke. Stopping the appliances you flip over the woman in search of a heartbeat and breathing. Thankfully you find it and ask the little boy where you can lay her down. He points you to the bedroom down the hall passing by another bedroom and a bathroom. 

Once you’ve laid her down, check her temperature, and decide in your not-so-expert opinion that she’s suffering from a fever. Assuring the little dog boy you have him help you carry some cold water and a rag to place on her head. While making sure she drinks some water, you finally get to talking to the little dog boy who’s started to calm down now.

“That was real brave of you, good job for asking for help.”

“Big brother always said I gotta since I’m too tiny to do much myself.”

“Well, I thought you were very helpful and you don’t seem that tiny to me.”

“Thanks!” 

“No problem! My name’s (Y/n).”

“And my name’s Titan! By the way (Y/n) I’m real hungry!”

That’s how you ended up cleaning the dishes, Titan’s mother started and using what you could to make something new. You stuck with one of your old family recipes, relying on your memory the best you could to avoid another charred disaster. Eventually, you finish up able to set a plate in front of Titan who is more than happy to dig in. 

“More! More!”

“Okay Titan just a little bit more but you can’t eat it all we’ve got to save some.”

“Whyyyy!?”

“Because your mom hasn’t eaten yet and I’m sure your brother will want some when he gets home–”

“But he’s never aroun’ we’ll be waiting forever for him to come!”

Creak.

“Titan who is this?”

The new voice comes from a much larger dog man with a sturdy build, sun-kissed skin, and overalls barely hanging off his shoulders. His ears are narrowed back and his shoulders are hunched as he easily towers over you. With Titan’s help, you explain how you came to help and that his mother had fainted, likely from the fever she had. When you show him to her, his bared teeth and impending growl quiet down. Fussing over her as he checks for any sign that you might be lying. Finding that you’re not, he skeptically accepts the meal you made as you alternate watching over her and entertaining Titan–who’s far too chipper for a pup ready for bed. 

“Hey uh, wanted to apolog’ze for earlier”

“For what?!”

“Fer how I acted when you’re just helpin’ out.”

“Oh, it’s okay! I’m just happy no one’s hurt.”

“I’m also sorry for misjudging you. I think I had the wrong impression bout ya.”

As you continue to chat with the young dog man–Tank you both work together to finish up whatever chores his mom would usually do. Between you both Titan is convinced to finally get some sleep if it’s in your lap close to his mom. Tank suggests you stay over bashfully offering his bed if you need it. You decline, encouraging him to get some much-needed rest considering he was working on the farm tomorrow. 

“A-a-are you sure you don’t want to stay in a bed? I feel like it’s the least we could do.”

“No worries Tank, I’m going to watch over your mom until this fever breaks. Besides I don’t have the heart to move Titan now.”

“Fair I guess. Hopefully, I’ll see ya tomorrow?”

“Yeah if I’m not still here in the morning you can come to my place anytime.”

His fluffy tail wags a lot harder than he likes at that.

“R-really?”

“Yeah, anytime!”

With another ‘thank you’ he’s off to bed. It isn’t until sunrise that the fever breaks and the dog-hybrid mother is coming to. Assuring her that her boys and the food she left in the oven are not burning the house she calms down to thank you.

“Oh thank you thank you I don’t know what I would have done without you!”

Where you’ll have to fight her off from her barrage of kisses, hugs, and propositions to stay long enough for her to cook something for you to take home, as much as you wanted to stay and indulge in her acts of thanks, you missed your bed and it was plenty exhausting now that you were being spoken to positively. Convincing her that you were such a short drive away that she didn’t need to keep you too much longer and after promising that she and her boys were welcome anytime you could finally go home. 

“You promise?”

“Yes, Miss Tiffany I promise, anytime you’d like.”

“Just not now?”

“Yes, not now so please get some rest!”

Back in the comfort of your home, everything is more or less the same except for the recently obsessed friendly neighbors who make all the quiet time you used to have nonexistent. 

“Wake Up! Wake Up! Let’s play!”

“Egh Titan how did you get in here?”

“Through your doggy door!”

“But I don’t have one!”

“Now you do!”

Thus begins the first few to fall for the lone human in this hybrid town. Hardly shy about their newly discovered attraction as they fill their dull hours up with time next to you. Lucky them as your neighbors they’re the only ones privy to your addictive affection and comforting scent. 

“Oh! I was about to drive over to drop off Titan!”

“What a coincidence! We were just coming over to have dinner at yours!”

“Huh?”

“Well, you did say we can come and thank you anytime!”

“So we figured why not now!”

“In fact, maybe every week we come over to yours and you come over to ours!”

“I mean I guess-?”

“Wonderful Titan, Tank clear the kitchen I’m going to make this dinner the best yet!”

“Yes’m!” “Yes’m

The Dog hybrid family next door is all too eager to take up all of your time. Since the moment you moved in they’ve been eager to truly get to know you, woefully settling with the distant wafts of your scent during a favorable breeze. Unlike others in the town their curiosity for the human was a positive one blaming it on their all too friendly instincts they couldn’t deny the urge they got to close to the distance between you two. But alas everyone in the town was so averse to the idea they were pushed off the desire for far too long but after your sweet words and intentions, they’d be foolish not to return the affection. 

“(Y/n) if you’d like me to cut the grass, I don’t mind.”

“That’s really sweet, Tank but I told myself I wouldn’t allow myself to sit back and let others do all the work.”

His tail droops at that. “Ah I see.”

“But you won’t tell me to go away will you (Y/n)? After I made that doggy door and everything.”

“You just chewed a hole in my door and I’m not saying you can’t stop by Tank I just don’t want it to be because you’re doing more work.”

His tail is wagging a mile a minute again. “I don’t mind if it’s for you!”

With your canine hybrid neighbors so close it’s hard to forget you were ever left alone. Now quiet and sometimes confrontational trips are filled with at least one member of the family accompanying you. Willing to bargain at stores for you or impressively growl when the cashier’s being a tad too snippy. It does make you nervous when the tiny Titan politely asks the nosy bird-woman who had the nerve to whisper about you to a ‘nice chat’ in the alley between the store. Returning with tufts of feathers and blood in his baby teeth. Or how Mama Tiff will oh so politely mention her bloodhound heritage at the fox bullies that hang around your car. Or when Tank all too eagerly pulls you into his side when he finds you cornered by the snake librarian.

“Back off my human!”

After any confrontation, you’ll ask your questions. Head on or round about they’ll all only smile at you, tail wagging wildly behind them. As if they’re proud of the slight fear in your eyes when you ask what that was about.

“We just want to protect you! You are only human after all!”

Part 2: It's Here!

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── hyunjin messes up and kkami helps him apologize

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff (might be the cutest thing i wrote recently)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: this is definitely inspired by the new book i'm obsessing over right now so pls enjoy and let me know what you think!! <33

“Well, well, look who finally remembered he has a loving partner missing him at home.”

You hear Hyunjin sigh on the other end, sheepish, obviously expecting you’d cut him some slack for disappearing for days, like talking to him wasn’t the best part of your day. Touring was hard, and he’s been insanely busy from day one – you get it. That’s why, your tone’s more playful than intended, only being able to let the phone ring for two heartbeats before rushing to answer and let his velvety voice bring sunshine back into your dull life.

“Hello, the absolute love of my life I think about daily.” He clears his throat, brushing over your comment in hopes you’re not truly upset he hasn’t called in so long. Two days weren’t a big deal, but for clingy people like you and him, going 48 hours without hearing what the other has been up to was torture. It was just enough time for insecurity to creep in, feeding you lies upon lies about how he’d forgotten your relationship and was currently in the process of replacing you with someone else, someone better and more worthy of owning his heart.

Your heart flutters, a grin finding its way onto features despite your attempts at stopping it. “Hello, Hyunjin.”

“Who the fuck is Hyunjin?”

No longer able to keep the happiness at bay, you burst out laughing, the aggravation clear as day in the absence of his usual pet name. Hyunjin was your baby, nothing else. His name only ever left your pretty lips you couldn’t wait to press against his only when the situation called for seriousness.

Settling down, you ignore his displeased huffing. “The guy who hasn’t called me in a week. You might know him.”

You’re teasing. You both know it, just like he knows that behind your words, the only genuine thing is the longing and the wish to have him close again, missing the steady beat of his heart and his familiar warmth that usually lulled you to sleep, badly. Hyunjin has always been great at reading between the lines, figuring you out easily, like you were nothing more than an unchallenging puzzle he could solve with his eyes closed.

“A week? I know I messed up, love, but it’s only been two days. Not even, just about 45 hours.” You hear sheets rustling on the other end, helping you picture him lounging about in the hotel bed, hair most likely still damp from his previous shower. For once, the time difference was not absurd, allowing you to stare wistfully at the moon with certainty the other was doing the same, sharing stories of your love and trusting she’ll keep them safe.

“You counted?” You giggle, making yourself more comfortable on the couch, right next to Kkami who is sleeping soundly.

“I’ve been counting the hours until I can see you again the second I stepped outside our apartment.” He confesses, voice suddenly heavy with emotion before he gasps, ruining what could have been a sweet moment. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”

Of course, you have. Time seemed to go by incredibly slowly whenever he wasn’t near, the increasing distance causing his magnetic pull to grow weaker each day, but never diminishing, never losing its hold on you. That was impossible.

“No.” You lie blatantly, leaning back against the couch casually, one hand moving to slowly pet Kkami’s head whose slumber gave him the perfect excuse to ignore you.

“Liar.”

For the first time in your life, the fact that he knew you like the back of his hand was annoying.

“Don’t change the subject! You’re still not in the clear for forgetting about me for two whole days, Hyunjin.” You’re not actually mad, just feeling a little bit neglected. Hyunjin has never gone MIA like that, without even texting you brief updates throughout the day just so you’ll know he was still alive and kicking. Your boyfriend was thoughtful, sweet, and considerate – the radio silence you got for the past two days was very unlike him.

“I didn’t forget.” He counters, and you’re sure he’s shaking his head vehemently, denying all of your accusations. “I could never forget, not in this lifetime or any others.”

“Liar.” You mock him, making a face he can’t see and tease you about like he’d usually do. “You could have texted, at least. Let me know you’d be busy.”

“I’m sorry, love.” His voice is soft, apology genuine as can be when he doesn’t try to justify himself or find excuses. Hyunjin is aware that if the roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way you’re feeling right now, the anxiety and worry eating at him from the inside and leaving behind a restlessness he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried to. And he does, to an extent. Not being able to contact you drove him on the brink of insanity, making him moodier and more difficult to work it, which was so unlike him.

“Can I talk to Kkami?” He adds, trying to make it up to you in his own, creative way you’ve come to love.

“What?” You can’t help but laugh, not sure you heard him right.

“Pass the phone to Kkami for a moment, please?”

Now you’re curious, wondering what that beautiful mind had in store for you this time. You’ve been dog-sitting Kkami since he left, sending him regular updates in hopes of brightening up his day and keeping the homesickness at bay. Your camera roll has been full of pictures and videos of Kkami - walking him, playing together and being cute just for Hyunjin’s delight. A small price to ensure your boyfriend’s everlasting happiness.

“Should I leave you two alone? Give you some privacy?”

He laughs, and you hear the sound of a bag zipping up. “Yes. This is just between us boys, sorry baby.”

Shaking your head with a smile, you do as he asks, lowering the phone close to Kkami’s ear like the pup could actually catch Hyunjin up on what’s been happening around the house since he left. At the sound of his owner’s voice, Kkami’s eyes open as his ears perk up, visibly excited to hear him after so long. With his tail waggling, Kkami listens attentively to whatever Hyunjin is telling him, sleep long forgotten as you start giggling next to him, not believing your eyes.

Kkami was not an affectionate dog, often biting or growling at your lover like he was sick of him. Hyunjin’s presence and fussing were a bore, the dog quickly growing tired of his excited nature, even though your boyfriend was the person he loved most in the world.

That’s exactly why, you’re taken aback when he sprints off the couch, running a lap around the living room before returning to jump at your feet, barking and licking the hand closest to him excitedly.

Dumbfounded, you bring the phone back to your ear laughing. “What did you say to him? He’s suddenly so happy to see me.”

“He’s groveling in my stead. I told him to show you how much I miss you.”

Your heart melts, and suddenly he’s all forgiven as tears well up in your eyes. “Hyun…”

“Actually, I asked him if he wanted a treat.” Your tears get absorbed right back as a laugh bubbles out of the both of you, with Kkami jumping into your lap to beg properly. “I guess he figured I wasn’t there to give him some, so now he expects them from you.”

“You set me up.” You say, voice laced with playfulness as you stand up, scooping Kkami with one hand to fulfill his request. A true glutton, he’d never forgive you if you denied him his beloved snacks.

“Maybe. But my words had the desired effect.” His tone is softer now, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re laughing.”

Yet, the joy didn’t reach its full potential, and never will with hundreds of miles between you. Happiness in its truest form found you in a handful of moments, and for most of them, Hyunjin was right by your side, fueling you with the love and devotion he held for you and you alone. He made you happy like nobody else, helping you see color even on the darkest days. Your beloved loved painting, that’s what he did, you just never thought he could bring forth his talent and make you see beauty in everything, guiding you to see the world through his eyes that always sparkled like he held the entire galaxy in them.

“Baby.”

Hyunjin gasps so loudly, almost like he is on the verge of bursting with happiness, matching Kkami’s energy to a T, ready to jump through the phone to feel your love and affection again.

“Can we facetime? I miss your beautiful face.” You add once Kkami is back on his own paws, devouring the stinky treat in your hand as you crouch to his level.

“Facetime? Love, I’ll literally catch the earliest flight and be there in record time! This little screen isn’t cutting it anymore, I need to see you with my own eyes before I get so desperate I start walking back just to be in your arms!”

And that is your cue to get on a plane first and finally visit your boyfriend before he keeps his word and ends up at your doorsteps with nothing but a duffle bag and a sob story about how much he missed you to justify his careless actions.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Missed me? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader (love island au)

Summary: Rafe arrives at the villa as the newest bombshell 😝

Warnings: nothing rlly!!

Word count: 1,609

A/n: im so glad you guys are enjoying my love island au, put thru any requests you might have!

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

"I'd rather that than-" Theo’s about to finish his sentence when his phone suddenly dings, snapping you both out of the moment. Your eyes widen in excitement as you sit up, and Theo’s face lights up. "I got a text!" he shouts, his voice carrying across the villa. Instantly, everyone around the pool and loungers lets out thrilled squeals, rushing over to where you and Theo are perched on the sunbed, eager to hear the news.

Theo holds up his phone dramatically, soaking up the attention, then reads aloud, “All islanders to the garden deck!” He pauses for effect, raising his brows as everyone hangs on his words. “Hashtag fun and games, hashtag don’t be scared.” His teasing smirk only fuels the buzz, and the whole group erupts with another round of happy cheers and squeals, all of you giddy at the idea of a game.

As the blindfold slips over your eyes, Theo’s fingers graze your cheeks, adjusting it gently. “Can you see anything?” he asks, a chuckle lacing his words. You can’t help but giggle, feeling the warmth of his hands as you hold onto his wrists for balance. “Nope,” you reply, playfully tugging his hands away.

Before you can say more, another familiar ding sounds from across the deck, and Leo clears his throat to read the message. “All boys to the balcony immediately,” he announces. A wave of gasps echoes among the girls, and you instinctively tense, butterflies fluttering as everyone tries to guess what this means. A bombshell, surely—it has to be.

“Girls, stay where you are with your blindfolds on,” Leo continues. Your jaw drops, excitement sparking as the tension in the air thickens. You can feel the guys shuffling around, some making teasing comments, others exchanging quick words. Suddenly, Theo’s hand is on your cheek, steadying you, and then his lips press against yours in a familiar, gentle kiss that makes your stomach flip.

“You better not enjoy it,” he murmurs against your lips, his tone carrying a playful but unmistakably serious edge. You let out a soft laugh, unable to help yourself. His hands linger for a second longer, and then you hear his footsteps retreat as he joins the other boys, leaving you and the other girls alone, blindfolded, and eagerly wondering who is about to walk in.

It takes only a few minutes before you hear the villa doors swing open, followed by the whispers of the boys on the balcony. Anticipation curls in your stomach as you wait, feeling every second drag out longer at the end of the line. The girls beside you giggle nervously, and you try to calm the growing thrill in your chest.

Suddenly, you hear the boys erupt in a chorus of surprised shouts, and confusion spikes—what could be causing such a reaction? Then, out of nowhere, a firm hand grips your chin, tilting your head up. Before you can even process what’s happening, warm, insistent lips press to yours in a kiss that is as bold as it is demanding.

The kiss catches you off guard, yet you find yourself instinctively leaning into it, feeling the urgency and heat of his touch. His hand tilts your jaw, deepening the kiss, while your fingers cling to his shirt for stability. The kiss is almost dizzying, and there’s something achingly familiar about it—the way his mouth moves over yours with a teasing, all-consuming intensity.

As he finally pulls away, his breath is warm against your ear. “Missed me?” The low, unmistakable voice sends a rush through you. Rafe. You let out a small, surprised laugh, giving him a playful shove, though your lips can’t help but lift in a smile. Rafe here? In the villa? As the new bombshell?

“What are you smiling for?” Theo’s voice cuts through the air from the balcony, irritation evident in his tone. Biting back a laugh, you hear Rafe’s deep, confident chuckle as he reaches up, pulling off your blindfold. Blinking in the bright sunlight, you see Rafe before you, grinning with a finger pressed to his lips, urging you to keep quiet.

Your eyes widen, the thrill of the situation hitting all at once. Without another word, he takes your hand, guiding you toward the steps with an air of cool confidence. Your gaze darts to the balcony, catching sight of Theo’s expressionless face, though the way his hands clenched at his sides told you he wasn't happy.

But before you can react, Rafe’s already leading you down the stairs. When you finally spot the villa door, it all clicks—you’re about to go on a date with him. Heart racing, you follow him outside, your head still spinning from the kiss and the whirlwind of it all.

~

“Your hair’s different,” you blurt out as soon as you both sit down, the words slipping out before you can filter them. Rafe chuckles, rubbing a hand over his freshly buzzed hair. “Yeah, wanted a change, y’know?” His gaze holds steady on you, and you feel the intensity as he takes in your features, studying you like he’s trying to remember every detail.

It’s surreal, sitting across from him after all this time. It’s been two years since you walked away from him, two years since you left the Outer Banks and everything that came with it. And now here he is, in Spain, on Love Island of all places. You try to shake off the memories and give him a warm, genuine smile. “So… how are you?” you ask, curious but careful.

Back then, Rafe had been drowning in a world of drugs and alcohol, and now you can’t help but wonder if the man in front of you has changed. His response is immediate, almost as if he’d anticipated the question. “I’m clean. If that was what you were wondering.” His tone is steady, but there’s an underlying edge, as if he’s been waiting for this chance to prove himself.

The swiftness of his answer catches you off guard, and he seems to notice, softening as he continues, “Since you left, I got my shit together. Took over Dad’s business. I’ve changed, Y/n.” His voice carries a sincerity that you can’t ignore, and for a moment, you see a different side of him—a version of Rafe who’s fought his own battles and come out the other side.

You reach across the table, your fingers brushing his as you give his hand a light, reassuring squeeze. “I’m glad to hear that, Rafe. Really.” His eyes drop to your hand, a flicker of something unspoken passing through his expression before you release him, pulling back. But he clears his throat, shifting slightly. “You’re with Theo?” he asks, his tone laced with curiosity as he leans back, watching your reaction.

You nod, meeting his gaze head-on. “Yeah? Didn’t seem like your type,” he says with a hint of his familiar teasing edge, though his eyes betray a flash of something deeper. You smirk, taking a sip of your drink. “Maybe my type changed when I moved to the city,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. His mouth quirks up, but before he can counter, you find yourself asking.

“Why me? You could’ve chosen any other girl to pull for a date—” “Because it’s you,” he cuts in, his voice soft but firm, like he’s been holding back those words for ages. The air shifts, and your lips part in surprise, your mind racing to come up with a response. But before you can, he leans in, his gaze piercing. “And because I’ve missed you.”

The sincerity in his voice leaves you momentarily speechless. Two years, miles apart, and yet here he is, still managing to unearth that old feeling buried deep inside. You don’t know what to say, the memories flooding back, bringing a rush of emotions you thought you’d left behind. “Give us another chance,” Rafe says, his voice filled with conviction as his eyes search yours.

You press your lips together, glancing down as a flood of emotions tugs you in different directions. A part of you wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all. After everything, after two years apart, he’s here in Spain asking for another chance. He looks different, sounds different, and maybe he’s changed, but the past still lingers, and you’re not sure you can trust him, or even yourself, to dive back in.

“Rafe…” you begin slowly, lifting your gaze to meet his. “I’m not going to lie—I’m skeptical. Things were messy between us before, and I don’t know if that’s something we can just… fix.” He nods, an understanding smile playing at his lips. “I get it. I don’t expect you to just jump back into this. I know I messed up. But I’ve worked on myself, and I want a chance to show you who I am now.”

You sigh, your fingers toying with the stem of your glass as you process his words. “I do see a difference in you… and I don’t want to just shut you out. Maybe we can give it another try, see if there’s still something here.” You bite your lip, feeling the flicker of hope you’re trying to keep under control.

“But I need you to know I’m not doing this lightly. If I’m going to open that door again, I need to be sure you’re all in.” Rafe’s expression softens, and he reaches across the table, his hand gently covering yours. “I’m all in. Whatever it takes. I just want a chance to make it right.” A small smile forms on your lips, and against all the doubts, you nod. “Okay, let’s try.”

[gojoest]

CRAZY ABOUT YOU — gojo satoru

tw: MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, pregnancy (reader is expecting), established relationship (you’re married), pregnancy freak!satoru, semi-public sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, love, sweetheart), very very brief mention of somno & oral f receiving, reader wears a dress, he’s a freak, not proofread, wc: 2.4k

synopsis: your husband fucks you during one of your prenatal visits

your husband is a freak, you know that. but what you didn’t know was how big of a one he could be, for you. you found out — when you became pregnant with his child.

when satoru found out that you’re carrying his child — because he did before you, saw it with his six eyes — he fucked you differently. with a primal urge unheard of, like a man that’s impregnated his wife and is now claiming her again, confirming the fact that you belong to him by slamming it deep inside you. after the fifth (?) orgasm he dragged out of you that night, you asked him through a weary chuckle — “huh, where did this come from?” — and his answer began with a motion of his fingers hugging his balls — “it came from here…”, followed by his other hand caressing your belly “…and went there”, while slowly leaning in to meet your lips, “and i might just lose my mind because, baby — you’re pregnant”

a rather unconventional way to find out you’re pregnant.

if he had any semblance of decency in him before (which is rather questionable) and could keep his hands to himself (to some extent) during certain times and in certain places, it is completely off the table now.

when he wants you, you will know; others around will know it, too. he doesn’t shy away from making it obvious, or more so he doesn’t care if other people notice. what’s there to be embarrassed about? after all, you’re a couple, you do things. it’s only natural. and that pretty baby bump is the perfect proof of it. in all honesty, it gets him off when others know that he’s about to fuck his beautiful pregnant wife once he takes her home.

he's a freak like that, it can’t be helped. even more so now with the way your skin glows differently, with the way you smell, the way you carry yourself and the way your body is undergoing the natural changes as the pregnancy progresses that he finds so beautiful. it all messes with his head. brings out the real freak in him that can no longer keep his urges at bay, not when knowing that he himself brought this upon you. it makes you so undeniably his, for everyone to see and acknowledge. his chest swells with pride…

…but sometimes pride also gives way to greed, to a freakish desire for more of you.

during the rare times you go about to shower without him, he slips into the bathroom. sits on the toilet seat and starts jerking off to you, watching your swollen belly and breasts, moaning loud and clear for you to come to his aid. sometimes you wake up to him holding your hand wrapped around his cock, rubbing himself into your palm, audible pants seeping from his lips as he slowly lifts the hem of your shirt (his shirt that you wear to sleep) — preparing to splatter his load on your pregnant belly; or alternatively, you open your eyes to his face buried between your legs, devouring you like a starved animal… other times, as you make dinner in the kitchen, tenderizing the meat with the mallet on the counter, he comes from behind and presses his hard-on against your ass, shamelessly asking “would you mind beating my meat, too, baby?”

and when you go about to scold him, call him a jerk, a perv, a freak, insufferable while hitting his chest — playfully, because you secretly like it when he can’t contain himself around you — he blames you for it. tells you that you’ve severed him so abysmally that he’s having a hard time now keeping it soft around you (he’s not lying). that you broke him and should take responsibility for it. chuckles fill the room and mix in between your kisses that later turn into breathy moans and pants mixed in between countless of i love you’s and you’re mine and mine only’s.

but sometimes, such as today, he takes things a bit too far…

like,

—you can’t simply fuck your wife during one of the prenatal visits just because the doctor left the examination room for a bit and your dick is rock-hard from seeing your wife’s belly out in the open.

“you have to be kidding me”, you raise your brows in absolute surprise as you watch your husband unbuckle his pants, “now? HERE?”

“please?”, he looks at you, cheeks flushed and eyes of a pleading puppy.

you knew he was up to something from the glint in his eyes as he kept staring at your exposed belly earlier, completely transfixed, only his eyes following the ultrasound probe as the doctor pressed it over your tummy.

“the doctor’s going to come any moment, you know right?”, you try to confirm he is aware that this can go very wrong.

“yes, but so am i — you don’t want me walking around in cum drenched pants, right?”, he purses his lips into a pout, one that’s obviously fake (but it works on you, even if you refuse to admit it).

“it’s not like you’ve never done it before”, you mock.

“that was only one time”, he pouts (this one’s not a fake), “okay, maybe two or three times, but it happens even to the best” (it was more than two or three times)

“aha”

“oi. whose fault do you think it was? you make a man go crazy. i mean, look at me right now, just look — i am standing here with my dick almost out for you, in the doctor’s office”

“so you realize this is absolutely crazy but still you won’t pack your dick away?”

“no, i will not. i’ll die if i don’t get to fuck you this instant. and i mean it, it hurts so much. and the authorities will suspect you did it, you know. because it’s always the wives anyway…..and they won’t be wrong about it”

“you’re hopeless, satoru”, you sigh, giving him a roll of your eyes.

but still, leaning on your elbows you slowly rise yourself from the examination table and sit at the edge of it, removing the towel covering your thighs. spreading your legs for him, you think that you really made the right choice to wear a dress today — less in the way for your husband and another one of his “if i don’t get to fuck my wife, i’ll die” episodes.

“i am”, he saunters over to you, biting his lower lip at the sight of your thighs and the beautiful belly hanging in between, “but i can’t help it when you’re so pretty for me like this, i go crazy”

and fuck, if it doesn’t make you wet the way he looks at you right now as he stops to stand between your open thighs, invading your space with such ease because that’s where he belongs to be. all the signs hint at that, too — the ring on your finger, the baby in your belly and the wetness dripping from your cunt, ready to welcome him in.

“yea, you really do”, you pull the front of his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, earning a low hiss from him upon your hand making contact with it.

“all because of you”, he places his hands under your ass and slightly pulls you to himself. you’re immediately met with where he’s hard, it’s poking and rubbing against your belly.

a moan crawls up his throat and breaks out into a satisfied groan. part of him wants to cum just like this — by rubbing himself against your belly. but god, you smell so good down there that it shifts his desire. now that he’s so close to you — standing right in front of your doors — he can smell it so much better. your scent wafts up from your heat and goes straight to his nostrils, letting his brain register in the most primal of ways that your body is ready for him.

you know he’s noticed the dampness of your panties by the way his smile’s faded into a grin, you can smell yourself in the air around you, too.

“fuck, baby…can cum from this alone, you know? rubbing myself on that pretty belly that i made on you”, satoru whispers as he leans forward to take your mouth into his. his lips are loaded with such intensity that they suck the air from your lungs, leave you moaning into his mouth. the grip he’s got on your ass tightening, his fingers digging into your flesh. “but that won’t do now, so hold on tight”

you comply in silence, wrapping your hands around his neck as he lifts you up just enough to peel your panties down to your thighs, then sits you up again and drags them down your legs and onto the floor.

“just so you know—if someone comes before i do, i’ll just keep fucking you”, he grins at you as he positions himself back between your legs. his words might sound like a joke, an exaggeration of some sort to make it clear how much he wants you right now, but you know better than anyone that he’s pretty serious about it.

“then hurry up, you freak”

his fingers swipe over your cunt — to confirm that you are indeed as ready as your scent gives away — and collect your arousal before rubbing it all over the length of his throbbing cock, mixing your wetness with his vigorously leaking pre.

“open them a little bit more for me, baby”, he coaxes, hands back on your thighs, tapping softly on your skin as a signal to spread them just a little bit more and give him way. you lean back on your hands and push your legs open as much as you can. the motion causing your belly to bump against his cock, squishing it between the two of you, pressing it against his stomach.

“s-shit, baby”, he hisses at the sensation, his body jerks a little and his hips buck forward, against your belly, to deepen the friction, “i can really cum from just rubbing it on you….fuck, that’s crazy”, he laughs.

but satoru stops himself.

his hand moves away from you to get a hold of his cock and help it against your entrance, pushing the head towards your folds before slowly sinking in the entirety of it, bottoming out in you from the very start. there’s no time to waste and he’s got no patience left in him, once he’s in — he’s going all the way.

“nghh, s-satoru”, you whimper at his needy intrusion, but swallow him so easily that your wetness starts to spurt out as he’s starting to dart in and out, trickling down the crack of your ass and dripping onto the examination table.

“fuck, love…look at the way you take me”, he breathily chuckles, head thrown back as he picks up the rhythm of his thrusts, “and you call me crazy, huh…haha, fuck, f-fuc-k” — if his voice was a tad bit louder just now and could keep a steady note, he would’ve sounded maniacal.

“s-shut up….don’t compare me to yourself”, you protest, trying to deny the fact you want him just as bad but the way your walls clench around him proves the other way around. you become who you surround yourself with. he’s crazy to do this to you here of all places. and you’re just as much crazy to let him have his way with you.

you suck him in so deep that his body, caught off guard, jerks and bucks forward. it makes him forget where he starts and where he ends. he wants to let go but also to never stop, he’s fighting so hard but it’s a battle he’s slowly losing. as his pace is growing faster his thrusts are getting sloppier. “shit”, he curses under his breath. his balls are sizzling and he wants to bust so bad but not before he makes you cum.

the tension, the pulsing of his cock and the ridges of his throbbing veins — you can feel them like a heartbeat inside of you, and each time he slams against that sweet spot your clit responds with a beat of its own.

you try to hold your voice back but pants leave through your parted lips as you gasp for air.

“nghh, ’toru…’m gonna cum”, you whimper incoherently as you throw your head back, eyes shut close.

“yea? go on, baby—cum for me. come on, sweetheart—i’ll help you out”, he breathes.

his hands grabbing onto the plush of your thighs with a deadly grip, pulling you closer to help fuck himself into you better. the bottom of your belly is flat against his rock-hard abdomen now and he keeps it that way while ramming himself inside you, rubbing his cock around your sensitive walls, without pulling out. over and over until you squirm and come undone. face grimacing in pleasure and hips jerking from the electrifying sensation as you keep chanting “fuck, fuck, fuck” under your breath as quietly as possible so your voice doesn’t make it past the walls of the examination room for others — doctors, nurses and patients — to hear.

you glance your eyes to him, all disheveled and sweaty as his hips live through the last few thrusts left in them before he implodes inside of you. you hear him grumble how he’s about to fill you up while peering at you with a desperate face.

“f-fuck”, he growls throatily, charging one last time into you before spurting his load inside you. his body shudders from the release he’s been holding back. and he’s pouring too much, his heat spilling and filling your insides. you can feel it all — he’s making a frothy mess of your cunt.

it takes a few seconds after he’s done pouring his seed that his body reigns back control and he stops shuddering. he then looks at you.

“if i pull out now it’ll all spill out, you know? so maybe we should stay—?”

“no.”, you dryly interrupt. “don’t force our luck. put that thing away before someone comes and help me put my panties on”

“but it’ll spill out”, he insists.

“i’ll hold it in, don’t worry”

“oh? you know just the thought alone is doing inhumane things to me all over again, right?”

“satoru. don’t you dare.”

[fangirl-dot-com]

🚕Accidentally Kidnapping a Mafia Boss

*part of the reverse tropes series*

Pairing: MafiaBoss!Max Verstappen x UberDriver!Reader Genre: Crack/Humor/Fluff? Summary: Uber seemed like a brilliant plan to get money to buy a new car. However, a mistake has you picking up the wrong passenger. Pretty blue eyes turn dangerous when you notice the gun in his belt.

*this was actually so much fun to write! this is in no way dark whatsoever. it's super funny and the reader is pretty ditzy but it's all in good fun! hope you like it!*

TAG LIST CLOSED

You hummed to whatever tune was playing on your half-broken radio. Most of the lyrics came out as muffled voices, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because like the radio, your car was almost dead. 

Key word being almost. 

You had bought the car at the beginning of your high school career and refused to give it up. But, your father had finally convinced you to buy a new one. However, buying a new car was expensive, hence why you were driving around town at 7 p.m. on a Friday night trying to find someone who needed an Uber. 

Your family had mentioned how dangerous it was to drive for the “taxi” company, but no one else was hiring at this time. 

“It’s an easy way to make bank,” you had told your very confused parents. 

Your hand came up and smacked the top of the dash, causing the radio to spam for a moment before finally, clear voices played out. However, your eyebrows furrowed once you could actually listen to the song. 

“This is not my playlist,” you muttered while trying to get your Bluetooth to come back on. Once your fingers reached the dials, your phone lit up with an Uber notification. 

“Finally.”

You quickly put in the address and drove down the street. Your humming resumed, playlist reaching out through the speaker. You hadn’t even glanced at where the location was, or you would have realized that you were going in the wrong direction. 

When you were supposed to be going further into the town, you were headed for the city. The only place your parents refused to let you drive. 

It might have to do with the local mafia war that was going on. Something about track limits or whatnot. However, that was not going to stop you from getting paid that night. 

You finally came to a stop at the corner of what you thought to be Fifth and Main, like your phone said to stop at. The actual corner was Fourth and Main, but you couldn’t tell because half of the word “fourth” was smudged with some type of brown substance. 

Your shoulders raised in a shrug while your gaze landed back on your phone. At least you were supposed to be picking up a nice older looking lady. That’s what your Uber app said anyway. You leaned forward in the driver’s seat, making the entire car squeak. Before you knew it, your fingers had started to tap along to the song that was still playing. 

The sound of the door opening and slamming shut caught your attention. 

“Drive!” you heard from behind you. 

Your entire body turned in the seat as you looked to the back row of your car. 

That was not a nice looking old lady. 

The man that now resided on the back road had a mean glare as his eyebrows cocked. Sea blue eyes met your own as the man leaned forward and pointed out the window. 

“I said drive, let’s go!” the accented voice yelled.  

If you had taken a moment to actually look at the man, you would have noticed his roughed up suit, along with the bright red splatters along his white dress shirt. And on his belt line, a gun seemed to be tucked. 

But you hadn’t noticed. 

“Yes sir!” you cheerfully said, putting the car into drive. A loud boom sounded outside the car, but your radio had decided to turn up full blast, masking the sound. Your car squeaked as it started to move away from the corner and farther along the road. 

The man in the back seat seemed agitated, but slowly relaxed the farther away you got on the highway. He had leaned back against the window and rubbed his eyes. You wanted to keep glancing back at him, but you needed to drive. When you noticed that the Uber app had not updated with his next location, you gathered the courage to speak. However, he beat you to it. 

“Is this your first time?” 

You sheepishly grinned back at him. “Yes, sir. Sorry, is it that noticeable?” 

A grunt escaped his lips. 

“The damn Get Away Car sticker on the back is not very inconspicuous. You need to get rid of it.” 

“Oh! So you don’t like Taylor Swift that much?” 

The man glared at you through the rearview mirror, before he shut his eyes. His hand waved at you through the gap between the front seats. 

“Just don’t miss the exit.” 

“Sir, you’ll need to put in your location first.” 

His eyes shot open. “I guess this is your first day. How did you ever get through training?” 

You glanced back. “Training? It was all online?” 

A huff only answered as he reached for what you hoped was a phone in his pocket. 

“I’ll have to let Lando know that online training will not work.” 

You let out a nervous giggle, noting that there was no “Lando” in the Uber training video. But, once again, the money promised kept you going down the highway. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping that the guy would just put his address in. Now you were getting annoyed.

“Sir, I really need the address or I’ll have to make you get out.” 

A click near your ear made you freeze. 

“Who do you think you are? Giving orders to de Leeuw.” 

You had definitely picked up the wrong person. You wanted to start explaining yourself, but the gun near your head made the words die out in your throat. You could feel his breath on your ear as he spoke. This would be hot, if you weren’t scared to lose your life. 

“Now, you’re going to tell me who you are and why you don’t know where the right exit is. Are you working for Hamilton? Vettel? Alonso?” 

You were so caught up in not wanting to die that you missed the car in front of you slamming on your breaks. You were thankful for your fast reflexes as your foot pressed down on the left pedal, making your car lurch to a halt. A thump on the back of your seat had you reeling around to see what had happened to the blond man. 

You were surprised to see him now sprawled on the back seats, eyes closed and gun now on the floor. Your hands were shaking as you were now able to take a random exit. When you got to a random parking lot, your head hit the steering wheel. 

“I have de Leeuw in my back seat.” 

Your breathing started to grow ragged. 

“I have  de Leeuw in my back seat!” 

You were now panicking. 

“I HAVE AN FUCKING UNCONSCIOUS MAFIA BOSS IN MY BACK SEAT!” 

Charles’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Max’s tracker come to a stop in a parking lot. The Dutchman was supposed to come back right away after a swift deal with Gasly on the other side of town. But, Charles’s heart had dropped when the car, that Max was supposedly in, turned at an exit too soon. He took off his headset and rolled his chair over a bit. 

“Lando, who was picking Max up today after the deal? Was it Carlos?” 

The curly-haired Briton spun in his seat to look at his fellow mafia worker. 

“Uh, Carlos called in sick. I thought it was Oscar’s turn?” 

Something felt weird in Charles’s stomach. 

“No, Oscar is on that mission? Daniel was then after Oscar.” 

Lando’s eyes widened with fear. “Daniel is out of the country.” 

The Monegasque turned back to his computer screen. All vitals for Max were still good, but he had yet to leave the location. His finger pointed and pressed against the screen. 

“Then . . . who has Max?” 

Back in the parking lot, you had gotten out of the car and were currently rocking back and forth in the fetal position. 

“This is not happening. Why did this happen to me? I only needed some money. Why did I get stuck with a mafia boss. I want to live. I need to get back home to my plant and cat.” 

Last time you checked, de Leeuw was still out cold. You had taken the gun just in case he woke up in a panic and started to shoot at stuff. That would not end well for you. You grabbed your phone and pushed a button. 

“Yes? Hi? Hello, I am calling about what to do if I picked up the wrong passenger. Uh-huh. Yes. I didn’t have his address. Well, no. He’s unconscious. I can’t call the police, he probably owns them. What? Ok. No? The hospital is under the law as well? Yep. I can’t just take him back! No, wait. Don’t hang up. Uhg.” 

So much for customer service. 

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket. Your feet took you over to your car, and you opened the back seat. The blond man was still looked like he was asleep. Your face got closer to his. 

Hm. Up close he was quite handsome. The freckle on his lip really added bonus points. You were so engrossed with the small dot that you missed the twitch of his eyes under his eyelids. When you looked back up, your eyes met blue, which made you shriek and fall back on your butt. 

Max was a bit out of it when he was trying to wake up. What he wasn’t expecting was a face to be so close to his when his eyes finally opened. He would laugh if he had the strength as he watched you fall onto the concrete. His hand immediately went to his belt, but his heart dropped when he didn’t feel his gun. 

“Looking for this?” you asked, gun outstretched at the man in your back seat. Max’s eyes widened at the gun pointed to his head. It took all of his strength to put his hands up. 

“You don’t want to do this,” is the first calm thing that the man said to you. You, however, kept the gun pointed directly at him. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But I can’t have you freak out on me and shoot my face. Who would take care of my cat back home? My cousin Lan could, but he kills everything.” 

Max registered the slight hitch in your voice. While his hands were still up, he took a moment to look around the parking lot. In the depths of his mind, he was hoping that Lando or at least Charles were on their way to come get him. Yet, his heart rate rose as he saw a few familiar things surrounding him. 

He turned back to you. “Ok, you need to listen to me. We are in Rosberg territory right now. And he’s not going to like us on his property. So, you need to give me the gun and get back into the car.” 

Your eyes flickered around, and caught some movement to the left and then to the right. You slowly inched the gun down as you walked closer. When you were right in front of the Dutchman, you quickly handed him the gun as you rounded the car to the drivers seat. 

Max quickly reloaded the unloaded gun with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t have shot him if you tried. It took a bit for him to do it, but when the magazine fit back in the gun, he was wondering why you hadn’t taken off yet. 

“We have to go, now,” he said sternly. 

You turned around. “But I need to find a good get-away-song.” 

Max could count the pout on your lips as adorable, if it weren’t for the fact that Rosberg’s men were quickly making their way to the car. 

“You’re going to have to pick a good funeral song if you don’t hit the gas pedal.” 

“Aha!” 

The music blared out of the broken speaker as you finally put the car into drive. You heard metal hit metal and prayed that you still could trade your car out for another (even with a few bullet holes). 

Max had pressed himself up against the back seat, gun cocked and ready. 

“You better not shoot out my back window. I have to trade this car for a new one.” 

Max muttered, “You won’t trade anything if you’re dead.” 

“I heard that!” 

The mafia boss ignored you as he kept watch. When a few cars started to gain, that’s when he leaned back and aimed the gun, firing shots through your back windshield, shattering the glass. 

“Do you listen to anyone? Or is my voice just static in your brain?” you asked as you swerved onto the highway. When Max didn’t answer, you huffed. You steadily drove your car down the big roads as Max tried his best to keep the cars at bay. 

“How far am I driving?” 

Max grunted as he ducked from a bullet. “Just until exit 7. That’s my track.” 

You wanted to hit your head on the steering wheel once again. “You’re telling me that if I just kept driving, I wouldn’t be in this situation?” 

When he didn’t answer, you swerved a bit to knock him off balance. Your chuckles hit Max’s ear, pissing him off even more. 

“And to think, I was going to replace this utter junk if you made it out alive.” 

“We’re not done yet mister.” 

There was still a bit of road to go, and you were hoping that Max would try to shoot out one of their tyres, instead of trying to shoot at their drivers. He was about reload when he heard a clicking sound. Max really wanted to through himself out the door. 

“Is your blinker seriously on right now?” 

Your fully turned around to glare. 

“Yes.” 

You jerked the wheel as you got onto exit 7, making the cars behind slowly back away and continue on the highway. You wiggled in your seat as you did a little celebration. When some familiar houses came into sight, you gasped. 

“My cousin lives around here!” 

Max was out of breath as he was flabbergasted by your upbeat spirit. “Cousin?” 

“Yeah! He has this like high tech job and stuff. I come over to swim in the summer.” 

He had no words as you pulled up to a familiar house. You scrambled out the door and fell face flat on the asphalt. 

“Sweet mother, thank you, thank you.” 

You could kiss the ground, but that would be super unsanitary. When the garage creaked, you quickly got up and scrambled behind Max, who raised his gun out of instinct. However, he wanted to laugh when he saw his two best friends in full oversized gear. 

The two friends froze at the sight of their boss and, well, Lando’s cousin. 

“Y/n?” the Briton questioned, pulling the visor on the oversized helmet up. 

Your sprung in your place. 

“Lando!” 

“Max?” 

“Charles?”

Lando squinted at you. 

“Y/n?” 

A nervous giggle escaped your lips. 

“Lando?” 

The curly-haired man rushed at you, making you dodge around Max. Which, that resulted in Lando chasing you around the yard. 

“You kidnapped my friend?” 

“Why are you friends with de Leeuw and apparently Il Predestinato? I’m telling Aunt Cisca!”

“Not if I tell your mum that you Ubered in the city!” 

Max and Charles watched as the two of you ran after each other, hurling insults and threats. The two jumped when they heard a loud creak behind them and then a crash. When they looked, your car was down to the ground, wheels askew. 

“My car! De Leeuw, you’re paying for that!”  

uber_y/n has posted

uber_y/n new baby from my new baby 🖤

liked by bestie, land0, max_v, and 204 others

bestie um excuse me ma'am 🤨 what happened to bessie? 😭

uber_y/n someone (not saying any names [max] ) SHATTERED HER BACK WINDOW

max_v I hope you like bessie 2.0 schatje

uber_y/n I dooooooo(not)

max_v woman 🙄

land0 you just had to go for my cousin 😐😑😐

uber_y/n he was very charismatic, unlike you noRIZZ 🫵💀

sharl_lec pls, for the love of everything good in this world, quit uber

uber_y/n NOPE on my way to pick up someone named...lewis?

max_v oh no

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