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blueberryattack · 22 days ago
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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Starlight Express - Phillips/Stilgoe/Webber Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hydra/Tassita (Starlight Express), Pearl/Rusty (Starlight Express), Dinah/Greaseball (Starlight Express), Components/Electra (Starlight Express) Characters: Hydra (Starlight Express), Tassita (Starlight Express), Pearl (Starlight Express), Rusty (Starlight Express), Dinah (Starlight Express), Greaseball (Starlight Express), Electra (Starlight Express), Components (Starlight Express), Porter (Starlight Express), Lumber (Starlight Express), Slick (Starlight Express), Mama McCoy | Poppa McCoy, Belle the Sleeping Car (Starlight Express) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Kidnapping, Imprisonment, Greaseball and Tassita are siblings, because I couldn't help myself., Other Additional Tags to Be Added, No beta we burn out like the stars, Quidrogen, POV Multiple Summary:
Hydra finds himself an unwilling guest in the underworld.
Gods & Goddess AU, largely inspired by Hades & Persephone
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cregansdingdong · 5 months ago
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imagine cregan and y/n breaking the bed one night just because of his sheer strength and muscle whilst pounding her, ik the conversation with the winterfell wood crafter would be awks as hell afterwards whilst asking for it to be repaired 😇😇
IM HAVING A PROPHETIC VISION, ANON.
At this point, Cregan and his boo thang are just going to have to become familiar with the man. There is no other option, because your choices are either to have this embarrassing conversation a multitude of times with multiple woodcrafters or just one. Because if y'all think this is a one-time thing, you are terribly mistaken.
Cregan is a very passionate person in bed, regardless if he's on top or not. He wants to make sure the two of you are satiated—that does mean the bed will snap like a twig under a boot i dont make the rules i just work here. Personally, I find the actual deliverance of the bedframe to be the most mortifying. Firstly, that big ass broken bed has to be dismantled and removed, if it's not fixable, which takes manpower, and then the new one brought into the Great Keep and put together. Otherwise, the woodcrafter is going to have to make a house call and show up with his tools and planks, walking toward your marital chambers which is embarrassing too :)
ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. (thoughts ver.)
NSFW stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.
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That familiar groan under his weight should've been the first warning sign, but Cregan was too distracted to notice. He was lapping at her pretty cunt, tongue delving as deep as he could go and as thorough as he could be without the motions being too unsteady. Alright maybe he did notice initially, but the thought was very quickly shoved to the back of his mind—especially when his pretty wife was trying to rock herself onto his nose, letting out the most quiet of whimpers muffled by their sheets. His ears were focused on her and her only.
With her pearl rubbing against his bridge and his cock feeling so strained in his trousers, no one could really blame him for forgetting about the delicate state of the bed in an instant. Last time they’d gotten particularly frantic in their lovemaking, there had been a low snap somewhere beneath the mattress, a taunt that he was probably too hefty to be moving so much. But winter was coming, a man’s gotta eat…in more ways than one.
By the time he’d recalled they should begin to take it easy on the bed, he was already balls deep behind her, hands gripping the flesh of her ass like a lifeline. He was suffocating in the best way, cock nestled inside, fogging his brain with nothing but instinct. And then she started begging. By then, well, he decided they needed a new bed anyway—six moons wasn’t too bad. Lasted longer than the previous replacement. Three harsh, unrelenting spanks bloom red on her backside as she squeezes around him, sending his blood pumping to the beat of an imaginary war drum. It would be a miracle from the Gods if she wasn’t pregnant by mid-summer. Cregan just couldn’t help himself.
Rutting against her like a man starved, the right side of the bed almost completely collapses, caving in and nearly throwing him off balance. His wife gasped, pleasure momentarily halted as she looked back at him. “Again? Seriously? I told you to write to him last time, did you?” The answer was no, no he did not. “It might have…slipped…my mind.” He murmured, trying to ignore the throbbing in his full balls. They had a silent conversation of glares and a sheepish grin. Then she concedes. “...We might as well finish then. I doubt it can get any worse.”
It could, actually. And it did. He came hard some twenty minutes later, pounding their hips together with a steady desperation. The dip of the broken side was a little annoying, but manageable. Without the support, the right beams of the canopy end up falling right down. No one was harmed, of course. It was only drapes. Cregan found it almost comical but his wife did not. It was going to be a long letter.
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ramblingautisticman · 3 months ago
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So, I haven't stopped thinking about the dyslexic Wade headcannon- like at all- so here is the second part/expansive of this post!
I really like the idea of him being really insecure about it but slowly accepting it more and being more open about it.
I also wrote from my experience, and I'm not officially diagnosed don't come at me, but I struggle alot with reading and writing so yeah!
Anyway, enjoy. Please. I hope everyone likes this as much as I do!
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It isn't that Wade can't read- or that he doesn't want to- it's more that it's a massive fucking struggle. Most of the time anyway.
He's always had trouble reading (and spelling, but he can avoid that with emojis now! How technology grows!) ever since he was a kid.
And maybe it's because he didn't grow up in a great environment, or maybe it's because he was never really encouraged, but Wade never ever mentions it. Not to anyone.
He never told anyone when he was in school that sometimes words didn't really make sense to him, and that he was behind in work because of it, not because he would sit and talk (though he did that too). He never told anyone that he preferred art over english because it was easier to understand a picture to him than it was words. He never told anyone that he struggled to spell simple words like "bakery" and "shopping" but could spell "because" and "beautiful" because of a stupid rhyme he had heard once.
It was just something he had grown up with- something he had assumed other kids dealt with- u til he got to high school. Suddenly, he was surrounded by people writing 3000 word essays like they were nothing and people reading 200 page books during lunch, all while Wade still hadn't finished a single book he owned. While Wade still struggled to understand words that weren't in a specific font or colour- something he had realised shortly after turning 10- and everyone around him could just do it. They didn't take 10 minutes to finish a page of a book. They didn't get headaches from the concentration he had to use while staring at a page trying to figure out if the word "wandering" was spelt correctly. They didn't struggle to read the teachers writing because of the cursive writing. They could all just do it and Wade had to just sit and try.
Naturally, people noticed that he would read slowly and awkwardly when they read aloud in class, or that his work always came back covered in red pen from where he had misspelled simple words. He quickly became a target for bullying. Honestly, he probably wouldn't feel as self conscious as he does if that hadn't happened. If teachers had just stepped in and helped- noticed that something was wrong- he would've gotten some help and grown up with accommodations that would've helped him succeed. But he didn't get any of that. He got bullied for reading slowly and being dumb. He got kicked and punched because he had been spotted reading a book meant for younger kids (big mistake).
Wade tried. He did. He read books as often as he could to try and make his brain click- and it never worked. He would try and spell random words- and sometimes he got them and sometimes he didnt- and eventually he gave up. Eventually he succumbed to the voice in his head telling him he was stupid and that he was just going to have to go through life suffering.
And as he got older, he figured out stuff that helped and stuff that didn't. He managed to find a few fonts that helped, a few overlays that made it easier, and a few things to remind him how to spell certain words he usually struggled with.
He also got better at hiding it. Wade would tell people he preferred calls over text. He would open birthday cards and smile at the writing even if he couldn't quiet make out what it said. He would avoid anything that involved him reading in public.
And again, not because he couldn't read, but because it might take him alittle longer than it should, and the idea people would notice made his stomach fill with anxiety, sending him right back to being that scrawny kid I high-school who got beaten up every lunch time.
All of that only got worse after his accident. Well, the cancer and the torture and the murders, but ya know.
Now people were staring at him anyway. People would look and gasp and gawk as he walked down the street or went to the store to get groceries. Everywhere he went people stared. Everywhere.
So instead of being slightly worried people would notice him focusing too hard on reading, he was fully aware people were staring at him constantly because of his skin, and he liked to avoid giving them anymore reasons to stare.
To his suprise though, moving in with Al had helped. She was the only person he had told, and she was the only person who seemed to understand, telling him about something called dyslexia and telling him that his brain just worked alittle different than his. Then proceeded to pass out after using the last of her cocaine- but the thought was still there.
And she didn't seem to mind that he read alittle slower sometimes, because she still asked him to read her mail to her, and sometimes write letters or cards. Wade would have to ask her how to spell the words, but she never seemed to get angry about it, and she always seemed to know how to spell them. Plus, if anyone noticed it wasn't spelt right, they could blame it on her being blind (how was the recipient to know this letter hadn't been writing by Al? She could probably write stuff if she wanted. She's blind, not stupid.).
When he started to gain friends and family- somehow gaining a little group of them- he didn't feel as bad about them noticing. He still didn't say anything- didn't make it obvious- but he wanted them to know he read there cards. Make sure they knew he read the group chat messages. Make sure they knew he did care (and for some reason, probably because the writer loves this headcannon, it seemed like alot of him showing his cared had to do with reading and spelling), writing them birthday cards and Christmas cards, and responding to every single message.
He found a quick way around the messages. That was easy. Emojis, memes and gifs quickly became his best friend. They were easy to dichiper most of the time, and Wade loved them, so it was a win win! He did write things too, and auto correct usually helped if he was struggling that day, but he was getting better thanks to Al and her bossing about of writing letters to her grandkids.
Writing cards took a little longer, but he spent alot of time on each one, making sure everything look neat and was spelt well. It always made him proud giving someone a card that he knew he spent so much time on, perfecting every last word.
When Logan moved in, it was a topic Wade was trying to avoid. He knew he should tell him- they were getting closer and closer each passing day- but he always felt so stupid trying to explain it. It made him feel stupid, even if he knew he wasn't. Most of the time.
Luckily, it doesn't actually come up for awhile, not until they have moved into their own place and Wade is handing Logan a birthday card with a huge grin on his face, practically bouncing on his feet.
And Logan opens it and reads it, and smirks a little because "I don't think the word awesome is spelt like that" and suddenly Wade's smile is wiped off his face.
He really had tried- maybe he didn't read the word properly off his phone or something- because Wade is taking the card and trying his best to quickly read it but can't, and he let's out a grunt of frustration because rambling at Logan apologetically. "I really tried to fucking spell everything right- I'm the idiot for fucking trying to read the word to spell it- I mean, who does that when you can't even read properly? I can re-do it- gimme like an hour and a half to go get a new card and get Al on the phone to just ask her how to spell it and then I can give you one that isn't fucked up-"
And Logan shuts him up with a small kiss to the forehead, telling him that he "likes this one just fine, has more charm" and Wade wants that to feel reassuring but it somehow doesn't, and it just makes him more annoyed.
So after a small melt down and a good cry in the shower for fucking up Logan's birthday, he explains it to Logan. Tells him about how he sometimes struggles with reading and spelling, but he really did try with the card. He really does try to read and write properly but some days it's hard and some days he can do it easier, and that he never really told anyone until he met Al. He messily rambles about everything- including the bullying- and Wade expects to be met with some laugh or ridicule. Though, this is Logan- and somehow this man loves every other part of him- so why wouldn't he love this part too?
And Logan just apologises to Wade that he made him feel bad about misspelling the word awesome- makes a joke about how it's a hard word to spell- and that Wade shouldn't have been bullied for something he couldn't help. Tells him that it's nothing to be ashamed off, and that he shouldn't let it hold him back. Tells him that if he ever needs help with spelling something he can ask Logan, that if he ever can't figure out a word that he can ask Logan, asks if there are any accommodations he uses to help him.
And Wade tells him the things that help, the things that don't, thanks him for the offer of help, and suddenly it doesn't seem so terrifying that Logan knows. Suddenly he feels better about it. Sure, Al had helped, but hearing this from Logan made him feel less afraid to hide it. Made him feel better about telling his friends so they knew.
And Logan stays true to his words. He helps him when he is struggling with a word- never jumps in a reads stuff or spells things without being asked first- and even uses some of the accommodations. He has his phone set to a font Wade can read easier, and his next birthday card is in big bold writing (Logan's writing is normally really scribbly and hard to read) and on a colour that helps him focus on the words more.
And he tells his friends and they understand, they do the same. They help if asked, they don't rush him in reading their cards or messages- Yukio starts to use more emojis and Collosus tries his best to give Wade mission debriefs in person or voice messages- and it helps him immensely. He gets more confident about his reading and writing, and he starts to work on ut even more. And yeah, he can't get rid of his dyslexia, but he can try and find new ways that help him. He can find books in safe fonts and listen to the audio book as he reads to help (Though, he does prefer listening to Logan read to him, because his voice is so smooth and gruff somehow, and he could listen to it for hours).
Wade hated that stupid part of himself for so long, but now- even if he is 47- he doesn't really mind it anymore. He makes jokes about his spelling errors or words he missreads, and he works on finding new things to help with Logan, and everything is alittle bit easier knowing he isn't going to be ridiculed and judged.
(People who said they wanted this, I hope you enjoy! @wadewnstonwilson @logictoinsanity @zerotoqueero @superbattrash @spoopderman @klszkas @ohitsthemindstuffagain @mangoob @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes (tagging yall who said you wanted to read it!))
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macabrebatz · 2 months ago
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HOW YOU MET THE SLASHERS PT. 2
Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I'm currently moving some of my old fanfiction onto here. These one-shots/drabbles are old (some are far older than others) so some of the writing is very short and in my opinion, not as great as some of my more recent stuff. But I have a soft spot for all of this since I know my younger self was working hard lol. So here’s a mini collection of my old “How You Met” series.
Characters: Brahms Heelshire, Otis Driftwood, Tiffany Valentine, Jack Torrance, Pavi Largo, Art the Clown, Billy Lenz, Luigi Largo, Will Graham
Warning/tags: Canon typical violence mentioned, occasional use of (Y/N) (I tried to get rid of some but there's still a few), not beta read
Word count: 6.1k
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Brahms Heelshire:
You were hired by the Heelshires to take care of their son. When you arrived at the home you were shocked to find a doll instead of an actual person. You decided to shake off the strangeness of the situation.
You followed every rule. You were getting paid so being in a spooky situation wasn't going to deter you away from a good paycheck.
After a couple of weeks, things started to get more strange. A couple of your t-shirts had gone missing, leftover food disappeared, and you could have sworn you heard footsteps walking on the creaky wooden floor at night.
One night you heard a knock. It was faint but it didn't go unnoticed. You got out of bed and put your ear up to the wall. You could hear shuffling.
"Someone's in the house," you thought to yourself.
You made your way to the bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway. The door to Brahms's room was closed. You could've sworn you left it open.
Stepping closer to the door, you gently placed your hand on the nob. You turned it quickly, opening the door. And there he was.
A grown man sat on the end of Brahms's bed. He had a mess of black hair on top of his head and his face was covered by what appeared to be a porcelain mask. You squinted your eyes. The mask resembled the face of the doll that you had grown fond of taking care of. No, it can't be.
You stepped back in shock. Fear and confusion clouded your mind. You wanted to run but your legs were frozen.
"Please don't be scared," the man pleaded.
The voice was gentle and soft. Your mouth fell agape.
"Brahms?" you questioned, stuttering his name.
The man nodded his head.
"So...you are alive."
Otis Driftwood:
You lived down the street from the Firefly family for years so you've known Otis early on. As you got older you started to stay over at their house. Baby Firefly was your best friend and she could tell that you had a crush on her brother.
"You know he likes you too," Baby said as you sat behind her, braiding her curly hair.
"I highly doubt that," you mumbled.
Every time you came over, Otis would shut himself in his room. He never seemed to even be remotely interested in you.
You finished Baby's braid and she turned around to face you.
"Don't believe me? Go talk to him," Baby insisted.
"Go talk to him? About what? We've barely ever spoken to each other," you said.
She took you by the hand without saying anything, dragging you upstairs. The two of you busted through Otis' door uninvited. He sat there watching an episode of The Munsters.
"What the fuck are you two doing in here?" he said aggravated.
You turned to leave but Baby caught you by the arm, pulling you back.
"We want to watch TV since there‘s not one downstairs," Baby said, flopping down on Otis' bed.
You stood there, looking down at your feet.
"Gonna stand there all day or are you gonna sit?" Otis asked, peering up at you.
You hesitantly sat down on the bed by Baby.
"I'm going to go get something to drink," Baby said, hopping back up from the bed.
Before you could insist on going with her, she was gone, leaving you seated by Otis.
"She's not coming back," Otis mumbled.
"Oh, then I probably should go after her," you said.
"Nope. You're watching TV with me," Otis said.
It sounded like an offer, not just a statement.
You nodded your head and sat watching TV with Otis for the rest of the night.
Tiffany Valentine:
You sat down in one of the last couple of seats in the movie theater. It was late at night, 11:45 to be exact. Every year on Halloween night you found yourself sitting in this theater, patiently waiting to watch the annual midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Most years, you would have had someone come with you. Your friends usually would tag along. But this year you were alone. You didn't exactly mind. The energy of the other Rocky Horror fans made up for it.
You had a small bucket of popcorn sitting in your lap, along with a grab bag full of props. The theater would pass them out since audience participation was always encouraged at the showings. You took a sip from your drink and sat it back down in the cup holder on the seat. Glancing around, you took note of how full the theater was. Almost every seat was filled, besides a few seats here and there. One of those empty seats was right beside you.
"Hi, may I sit there?" a voice asked beside you.
Looking up, you saw a woman with wavy blonde hair. She wore a black leather jacket with a bustier underneath, along with tight black pants.
"Oh, of course," you said.
She sat down beside you.
"Thank you," she said with a smile.
"You're welcome."
"If I would've known the theater was going to be packed I would have left home sooner," she said.
"I got here just in time as well," you said with a chuckle.
"I'm Tiffany, by the way."
She reached out her hand and you shook it. You told her your name and smiled.
After the movie had ended you found yourself walking out of the theater with Tiffany, talking about movies as the two of you made your way to your respective vehicles.
“It was good talking to you,” she said, slipping a small piece of paper in your hand.
You looked down at the tiny note, which had her phone number scribbled on it.
“Give me a call sometime,” she said with a wink.
You watched the blonde saunter away to her car before hastily adding her number to the contacts in your phone.
Jack Torrance:
"Is this seat taken?"
You turned to see a tall man who looked rather scruffy. His eyes were dark and there was some red puffiness around his eyelids.
"Nope," you said, offering him the seat.
The bar was rather empty. Only a few stragglers were inside, including you. You needed a late-night drink. Something to clear your mind. Or fog it up. You just needed to forget.
The man beside you ordered a Scotch and didn't hesitate to drink it down quickly.
"What brings you here?" he asked.
He then ordered another drink. This time he asked the bartender to just leave the bottle. Either he was going through a tough time or he was just an alcoholic.
"I had a bad day. Needed a drink," you said, "What about you?"
The man was silent for a bit as if he was struggling to answer.
"Divorce," he stated simply.
His voice was quieter than before. It seemed as if the divorce was rather fresh. His face dropped a bit and he looked as if he wanted to throw his glass across the bar.
Hesitantly, you patted him on the shoulder. It was a kind gesture. You didn't need to know the details. You could tell that this man was hurting. His outward expression was one of anger, but somewhere deep down you could tell that he was upset.
"I'm sorry," you said quietly.
"Don't be. It was a long time coming," he said.
A long time coming. You could say the same thing about your current situation.
You had just cut ties with your ex. A part of you was relieved. The other part of you was enraged that you hadn't ended things sooner. But now it was time to move on to new and better things. And why not start by making a new friend? You took a sip of your drink and then turned in your seat towards the man.
"I'm (Y/N), by the way," you said, sticking out your hand.
"I'm Jack," he said, shaking your hand.
Pavi Largo:
You had known Pavi for a little over a year. You had worked with Amber Sweet before, making her dresses and personalized latex corsets, and she had introduced you to him.
After that, Pavi soon fell in love with your talent and hired you as the entire Largo family's official personal stylist. The last one had to take a personal leave after a violent encounter with Pavi's brother, Luigi. You on the other hand found your job to be much safer than anticipated. You knew beforehand that taking a job working for any member of the Largo family would be a risk. But after a few months passed you started to have fun.
"My sister wants you to make this," Pavi said, entering your workshop.
He opened up a magazine and sat it on your desk, revealing a model in a latex mini dress. You walked over from your workstation and went over to the desk, picking up the magazine.
"She's really getting obsessed with latex and vinyl, isn't she?" you mumbled, taking a closer look at the picture.
For the past two months, almost everything Amber had asked you to make was made from shiny black vinyl, PVC, and leather.
"Almost as obsessed as she is with going under the knife," Pavi laughed.
You glanced up at Pavi, taking a good look at the woman's face he wore as a mask. You squinted your eyes as you noticed the skin was starting to look rather splotchy.
"Pavi, you need a new mask," you said.
"No, I don't," he said, sitting down in a chair in front of your desk.
"I think you do," you insisted.
He simply shrugged and put his legs up, resting his feet on your desk. You sighed as you watched him do so.
"You can go now."
"And why would I do that? It's much more fun in here watching you work," Pavi said.
Pavi had a habit of doing this. He'd come in with a minor request and then find an excuse to stay. It didn't bother you all that much but today was a busy day. You were making two outfits for Amber, a suit for Luigi, and a dress for some guest who would be arriving at Gene-Co for an event.
You didn't have the time to entertain him.
"I have to work, Pavi," you said sternly.
"Take a break. Talk to me," he said, pouting his faux face.
"I don't have time."
"Alright...alright. But may I make another request?"
You rolled your eyes. There was already so much work to be done in such little time.
"Yes," you said.
He stood up and walked over to you. His hand reached up and caressed your face, grazing over your skin.
"Come with me tonight and help me find a new face," he said.
It wasn't much of a request. It was much more of a statement. A demand.
You nodded your head in agreement.
"Consider it a date," he said with a smile.
Art the Clown:
It was the middle of the night on Halloween. You stumbled on your feet as you made your way down the sidewalk. The air was proceeding to get colder as time passed.
You weren't sure what time it was. Your cell phone had died hours ago at the Halloween party you had left.
You couldn't drive home. You were far too intoxicated to do that. Plus, you didn't have a car of your own. Your friend had picked you up before the party. When you went to leave the party there was no sign of her or the car. Figuring that your friend had ditched you for a late-night hookup, you decided to tread back to your house.
Your outfit wasn't providing much warmth either. The clown costume you had picked for the Halloween costume was cute but it was made out of thin fabric. Cursing to yourself, you looked around.
Across the street from you was a pizza restaurant. The open sign still glowed and the lights were on inside.
"I could go for some food," you thought to yourself.
You walked across the street and entered the restaurant. A feeling of warmth cascaded over you as you stepped in.­­­
"Welcome! Great costume! What can I get you?" a man greeted you from behind the counter.
He was heavier set with tan skin and dark hair that was slicked back with styling gel.
You looked over the multiple options of pizza behind the glass of the counter. You ordered a slice of your favorite pizza and sat down at a booth.
As you ate, you heard the bell on the door chime. Glancing up, you noticed a tall figure dressed in a white and black clown suit with an alternating pattern. His face was painted white, and his face was covered in what you assumed to be prosthetics. In his hand, he carried a black bag.
For just a second, you forgot it was Halloween, and a chill ran up your spine. The feeling disappeared quickly as you assumed he was in a similar situation as you. Either going to or coming from a Halloween party.
The stranger sat down at the booth closest to the door without ordering anything.
"May I help you?" the man at the counter asked the clown.
There was no answer; the clown just looked away.
You decided to ignore it and continued to eat your pizza. It was Halloween after all. All types of people were bound to be lurking around.
As you ate, you couldn't help but feel a strange sensation. Goosebumps were forming on your neck. You glanced over to the clown. He was staring at you. Almp began to form in your throat and a part of you couldn't help but stare back. You couldn't tell if you were scared or just annoyed that someone was staring at you while you ate.
You decide to wave at him. A small gesture to break the ice. He smiled back at you.
You turned back to your food and finished your pizza rather quickly. The clown's smile wasn't necessarily a comforting one. You went to get up from your booth and couldn't. A small gasp left your mouth as you looked up. The clown stood in front of you, peering down as he blocked you from exiting. You hadn't even noticed him get up or walk over.
He put up his finger, gesturing for you to hold on. With a few dramatized miming motions, he reached into his bag and slowly pulled out a flower. He held up a singular rose, and you hesitantly took it.
"Um…thank you," you said quietly, smiling a little.
He tipped his hat and walked away, leaving the shop. It wouldn't be the last time you saw the mysterious clown.
Luigi Largo:
The repossession of organs was a regular occurrence in the city. By the year 2052, everyone's body seemed to begin to fail. Organ transplants and regular cosmetic surgery became the norm. Hell, even you had had a few organ transplants yourself to save yourself from an early death.
And with the new way of life, a new set of rules had to be made. Organs were now a rental property. If you didn't pay, they could be repossessed. You understood the rule, and you never missed a payment. Even when you didn't have the money, you still found a way to have the cash by the time payment was due.
You were good at keeping your payments, but you couldn't say the same about other people. When Gene-Co came knocking on your door months ago, you didn't know what to expect. It's not every day that Rotti Largo comes down to talk to civilians. You had seen him and his children on TV. His daughter was around your age. They lived a glamorous life, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to know that they were a mess.
Rotti offered you a job that day. He wanted to hire you as an assassin. There were fuzzy details about the current Repo-Man betraying his trust. He mentioned that it was good money and an easy way for you to pay off your organ payments. He even said that the company would give you grace periods to pay. Blah. Blah. Blah. Long story short, he wanted you to be his new "Repo-man".
At the time you weren't fond of the idea. Not many people lived through repossession. It essentially would kill a person each time. Also, really? The company that was paying you would just be getting the money back from you anyway. It didn't make much sense.
But that was months ago.
The past version of you would be absolutely disgusted with the present version of you.
Oh well.
Currently, you had your hand shoved into a man's chest. Normally you would have brought someone like this back to your home. It was much easier to cut the entire chest open to retrieve a heart. But you didn't have time for that right now. You were on the clock.
You had tracked this guy down as quickly as possible once you had realized you were late for drop-off. You had quickly stunned him, causing him to pass out.
And now he would never wake up because you were elbow-deep in his chest. You carefully pulled out the man's heart. You didn't care too much about properly cutting arteries. If Gene-Co didn't care about the condition of the heart then why should you? They just wanted to be able to cross a name off their list.
You placed the heart in a bag and then in your small ice cooler. Looking down at the guy you couldn't help but feel sorry. If only he had kept up with his payments. You started making your way down the streets.
You had on a respirator and tinted goggles. Not only did it help with keeping your identity sealed but it also helped protect you from the ungodly amount of pollution. The air was so thick with smog that it always looked like as if there was a haze of smoke in the air. You hadn't seen the stars in years. Just the cloudy light from the moon.
You remember your mom telling you what it was like when she was your age. She had been born in the early 2000s. She turned 18 around 2020. Your mom had grown up in a rural area, full of green fields and forests full of trees. You could tell that it made her sad.
None of that existed anymore.
Her home had been replaced with parking lots and skyscrapers. By the time she had you, she was 30, and there wasn't much grass left in America. Not many trees either. Most plants were grown in greenhouses now. They wouldn't survive the outside conditions. Now you were in your twenties, and you wished your mom had gotten pregnant sooner. You wished you hadn't had to grow up in a time where Earth had been wiped of nature and replaced with chaos.
As you walked down the sidewalk, you could see the glowing Gene-Co sign from down the street, looming over the city. It felt as if a giant eye was watching over you.
Although you worked for them, you didn't know much about the Largo family. You just knew what you saw on TV and the news. And based on what you heard, the family was nothing short of dysfunctional. You had never met any of them other than the patriarch, Rotti Largo. Your business was usually with Genterns and receptionists, not the Largo family.
You entered Gene-Co, pushing past the big glass doors. The building was an odd combination of a hospital and a business. On some floors, there would be operating rooms and Genterns. On other floors, offices and meeting rooms. You reached the front desk and looked at the blonde Gentern behind it.
God, you hated their uniforms.
The red visors and scrubs that looked like a mini dress bothered you for some reason. Maybe it was the fact that you always got a face full of their rear ends that irked you.
"Delivery," you said behind your mask.
She picked up her desk phone and pressed a couple of buttons.
"The repossession delivery is here," she said to the person on the other end of the line. She nodded her head and hung up the phone.
"You know where to go. They'll buzz you in," she said.
You walked away from the desk and made your way down the hall, entering a back room. It looked like a loading dock but was used for organ storage. And by the looks of it, very poor organ storage. The room wasn't even cold. No wonder people's organs were still useless after surgery.
As you walked past the shelves of unkept organs, you heard a group of voices arguing.
"What the hell?" you thought to yourself.
You knew it couldn't be Genterns arguing. These were two masculine voices.
You turned the corner of shelves and saw two men in suits arguing as Genterns looked on.
"You think you could run this company? Are you mad?"
"The only mad person here is you! God, look at you! You think that fake face looks good on you?"
You then realized who the men were. You recognized them from the news. The Largo brothers.
One had medium-length black hair and wore what appeared to be the face of a woman. The other man's shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a chest full of scars. In his hand was a knife. It took you a second to remember their names.
Pavi and Luigi.
"Ahem," you coughed.
Everyone turned to look at you as if you weren't supposed to be there.
"Ah, is this our new Repo-man," Pavi said.
"I've been working for this company for months. I'm not new. Here," you said, handing the heart-filled cooler to the closest Gentern.
"You're new to us," Luigi said, stepping closer as he buttoned up his shirt.
He circled around before stopping right in front of you.
"What's this for?" he said, tapping his knife on your respirator.
"To filter out pollution," you said. Honestly, what type of question was that?
"And these?" he asked, poking at your goggles. His fingerprint smudged the lenses, causing you to have to take them off and clean them.
"I wear them so I don't have to make eye contact with people. Thanks a lot for messing them up," you said, frustrated.
"You're welcome," Luigi said.
He walked away from you, going to stand back by his brother.
"Well, goodbye. I'm sure you have more repossessions to do," Pavi said, smiling.
You stuck out your hand, waiting for the Gentern to pay you.
"What do you want now?" Luigi asked.
"This is the part where a Gentern normally pays me," you said, annoyed.
"Oh, I got you covered this time," Luigi said, walking back over to you. He took out a wad of cash, and you could tell it was way more than your usual pay. You expected him to go through it, but he just sat all of the money in your hand.
"Wait, this is too muc-"
"Keep the change," Luigi said, winking at you.
Billy Lenz:
You slumped onto the couch as you listened to music. It was Christmas break, and the rest of the people in your (fraternity/sorority) had gone home to their families. Only you and a couple of the other members had decided to stay for the holidays. You were left alone in the house while the other members left to go to the bar.
The music played at a low volume and echoed throughout the house. You closed your eyes as you listened to it, droning off as you finally began to relax. The past few weeks had been stressful due to finals, but now all the tests were finally over. It was also the first time you had been alone in months. You could feel the weight of the tension leaving your body. It was a great feeling that you hadn't felt in a while. It wasn't often that you could just sit down and relax.
Just as you began to get comfortable, the house phone rang.
"Damn it," you mumbled to yourself.
You got up and walked into the foyer of the house, picking up the phone with a sigh.
"Hello?" you said. Instead of an answer, you were met with fuzzy garbling.
Strange noises came through the phone. Screams and whispers flooded through the phone.
"Hello?" you said, again, getting more frustrated.
"Billy...." a voice said, drawing out the syllables.
"There's no Billy here. You've got the wrong number?"
"What are you doing, Billy?" the voice whispered with a growl.
"You got the wrong number, man. Goodbye," you said, hanging up the phone.
"What the hell was that?" you thought.
You gritted your teeth as you went to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass, you began to pour yourself something to drink. As you did so, you heard a creak upstairs. Your head shot up. You were on edge due to the strange phone call, but you decided to brush off the feeling. The (fraternity/sorority) was old and would sometimes creak in the middle of the night. You were sure that was all it was. Your nerves, plus the old house, were just not getting along.
You went back to the living room and turned up the music in an attempt to get back to your relaxed state. Right before you sat down, the phone rang again. You paused for a second, contemplating whether you should answer it.
You took a deep breath and made your way back into the foyer, picking up the phone slowly and bringing it up to your ear.
"Hello?" you said.
This time you could tell your voice was more frustrated. And your frustration got worse as you heard the caller on the other end. Once again, you were met with more grumbles, screams, moans, and whispers.
"Hey, man. I don't know who you are, but stop calling this number!" you said. You slammed the phone back down on the receiver.
Almost on cue, you heard a creak come from upstairs again. This time, you could hear it more clearly. It sounded like the floorboard creaking under the weight of someone's foot.
A shiver ran up your spine as you were suddenly struck with a dreadful feeling of fear.
"Who's there?" you called out. Maybe it was just one of the members of the (fraternity/sorority). Maybe they had come home from the bar while you were in the kitchen.
"Guys, are you home?" you asked. You hadn't moved from the foyer, too scared to even budge. Your eyes were glued to the stairs of the house.
Suddenly the phone rang again, causing you to jump at the sudden noise. You turned away from the stairs and brought your attention back to the phone.
"Look, man. You're really starting to piss me off," you said.
"What are you talking about, (Y/N)?" a familiar voice said on the other side of the line.
It was your mom.
"Jeez, I'm sorry mom. Hi, how are you?" you greeted, taking a sigh of relief.
"I'm fine. I could ask the same about you. Why'd you answer the phone like that?" she asked.
"The house has been getting some weird phone calls, and I'm the only one at home right now. I'm just a little scared is all," you explained.
"Have you called the police to see if they can track the number?"
"No, I don't think it's that serious," you answered.
"Well, please be safe. I was just calling to check up on you and tell you we miss you," she said.
"I miss you too. I'll see you guys once spring break rolls around," you said.
"Okay. And (Y/N)...." Your mom trailed off a bit.
"Yeah?"
"Please be safe," she said.
"I will. Bye, Mom. I love you."
You hung up the phone putting it back on the receiver. You turned back to the stares and let out a gasp. Your body was tackled to the ground and suddenly you were struggling to breathe. You looked up and saw a man with brown hair and a dark green sweater.
His hands were around your throat and your breath was becoming more and more restricted. You clawed at his hands and kicked your legs.
After missing a couple of times, your knee hit the man in the groin, causing him to loosen his grip. You then raised your legs, kicking him back with both of your feet. The man fell back, giving you enough time to get back on your feet. You quickly grabbed the heaviest thing around you which just so happened to be a weighted candlestick sitting on the foyer table.
The man stumbled back to his feet. You gripped the candlestick, just waiting for an excuse to use it.
"Who are you?" you asked.
He smirked, and his eyes glanced over at the house phone on the foyer table.
The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning. The mysterious caller was in the house standing right in front of you.
"Man, you got a lot of explaining to do."
Will Graham:
You tapped your fingers on the desk while you waited for Jack Crawford. The door to his office had been open, so you were sure he would return soon. On his desk sat a stack of folders and papers.
If you weren't in a professional setting, you might have not resisted the urge to snoop. But alas, this was your work setting, and you had a great level of respect for Jack. Your eyes pried away from the papers and looked elsewhere around the empty office.
Over the past month, you had been hospital-bound after a nearly fatal encounter with an active shooter. You were just a criminal investigator. And all though you had a firearm on you constantly, most of the time you didn't need it. Crime suspects rarely came back to the scene of the crime. But this one did, and he had pulled out his own gun before you had time to react.
You were shot four times and, you were lucky to be alive. After a grueling recovery phase, you thought it was about time you got back to work.
"I expected you to be home, (Y/N)," a voice said from behind you.
You turned around in your seat. Jack stood at the doorway of his office. There was a small smile on his face. You could tell he was happy to see you.
"I got tired resting in bed. I need some excitement, I guess," you said.
He walked into the office and sat down at his desk.
"Are you sure you're up for it? Your leave technically hasn't ended yet. You still have time to recover," he said.
You shook your head.
"I'm done with recovery. I might need some therapy, but other than that, I'm good," you said with a laugh.
"I can recommend you a good therapist," he said. He was partially joking, but he seemed sincere.
"I might have to take you up on that offer," you said, "So what have I missed? Got anything for me, boss?"
Jack's hand made its way to one of the folders on his desk. He slid it across to you.
The front tab was labeled 'Minnesota Shrike/Chesapeake Ripper'. You opened the folder up and started reading.
"We've been called out to Minnesota to investigate a series of murders. All of the victims so far are all teenage girls. As you can see most of them look rather similar," Jack began to explain.
You flipped through the contents of the folder, reading about each victim and examining their photos, mainly the ones that were taken post-mortem.
You wiggled out a picture from underneath a paperclip that had been taken at one of the crime scenes. A girl was sprawled out in the sun in what appeared to be a grassy field. She was nude. Her skin was very pale and had begun to turn greyish-blue. Right underneath her breasts were two apparent puncture wounds. And what was coming out of those wounds made you squint to make sure you weren't seeing things.
She had been impaled with deer antlers.
"What does this have to do with the Chesapeake Ripper?" you asked.
"There may be a possible connection. We have to search every lead," Jack said.
You nodded and continued to look through the folder.
"And what do you want me to do?" you asked.
"One, get ready to go to Minnesota. We just got the call about an hour ago that there's been another murder," Jack said.
"Really? Man, whoever this guy is he's resilient," you said.
"And two, do me a favor and take these down to Will Graham at the Academy."
Jack took the stack of papers and folders and sat them all down in front of you. You closed the folder you were looking at and put it on top.
"Who's Will Graham?" you questioned.
"Your new investigation partner," Jack said.
"Well, I guess I should meet him sooner than later," you said.
"I agree. I'll see you later, (L/N)," Jack said.
You got up from your seat and took the paperwork into your hands. You exited the office and made your way out of the FBI Crime Lab.
Instead of taking your car, you decided to walk to the academy. It was only a couple of minutes away, so the walk would be rather short.
The leaves on the trees had almost all turned dark shades of orange and yellow. Leaves fell on the sidewalk as you walked down the sidewalk. The changing color made you realize just exactly how much time had passed since the shooting. You remembered how the air had felt that day. It wasn't necessarily hot but it was warm. Warm enough to wear all you wanted to wear was a t-shirt and jeans. But now the air was crisp and cool. In a couple of weeks, the temperature would be in the freezing temperatures. Time had changed so quickly.
You approached the front doors of the FBI Academy and entered. You weren't sure where to go. You figured Will was a teacher but Jack hadn't mentioned what he would be teaching. Now that you thought of it, you had no idea what the man would even look like.
You walked down the hallways, peeking into the open doors. You weren't really sure where to even look. You heard faint talking and footsteps down another hall and decided to follow the sounds.
As you turned the corner you saw what you knew to be students based on their uniforms.
"Excuse me, guys. Do you know where I can find Will Graham?" you asked as you approached them.
"Oh, yeah. We just got out of his class. Down this hall, third door on the right," one of the girls said, pointing down the hall.
"Thank you so much," you said.
You walked down the quiet hallway and turned at the open lecture hall. It was a smaller class with a large projector. You saw who you assumed was Will Graham facing towards the projector, looking up and examining it.
You looked up and paused. It was the same picture from earlier. The girl was impaled by deer antlers.
"In all of my years as an agent, I've never seen anything quite like that," you said aloud.
The man jumped a bit at the sudden sound of your voice and turned around. He had wavy brown hair that cascaded around his head. His face dawned a good bit of short whiskers and he wore dark glasses that rested on his nose.
"Neither have I," he said, "May I help you?"
"Will Graham?" you questioned.
"Yes, and you are?"
"(Y/N) (L/N), Jack Crawford sent me," you said. You walked over to him and offered him a handshake, which he took without hesitation.
"Jack sent you. So you're not a student?" he asked.
"No, I'm an agent. I've been out on medical leave, but I just got back," you explained.
You handed him the pack of paperwork. He took it in his hands and sat it down.
"Welcome back," he said.
"Thank you."
"So what are your thoughts on...all of this?" Will questioned, gesturing up to the projector.
"I'm not sure yet. I guess I'll come up with a better opinion in a couple of hours. I'm coming with you and Jack to Minnesota," you said.
"Oh, you're going with us?" Will said.
"Mhm, it's time for me to get back out there in the field. I'm glad I won't have to do it alone. According to Jack, it sounds like we're partners now," you said.
"I guess so," he said with a small smile.
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leclercsluvs · 4 months ago
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LN4 | Our Forever Moment
an: i still don't really know how much i like to make written fics, but i have ideas for them so i'm going to continue to try and write them, i think. my first language is NOT english, so sorry if there's any mistakes <3 pairing: lando norris x fem!reader, vasseur!reader (this is gonna be fun, lowkey not important, gets mentioned like a few times because i forgot) warnings: swearing (like twice) inspired by: mine - taylor swift word count: 6.2k
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As she’s being dragged to another race, she wonders when her dad is going to realize she's always running off and never in the garage of his own team, she doesn’t know that he’s fully aware she’s never there. She’s been welcomed by everyone she’s visited though, which does make him happy. She mostly goes to Mercedes and Red Bull, but lately Mclaren has been looking quite interesting. 
“Are you going to stay in the Ferrari garage today? Or am I gonna have to send someone over to Red Bull or Mercedes to find you?" Fred looks at yn with a playful smile.
“I didn’t think you noticed.” She's quite shocked. He always seemed to switch off being a dad whenever they stepped into the garage, so it never even occurred to her that he even wanted her there.
“Who do you think sends someone after you at the end of the day?” He turns back around as they get closer, “I think you, Charles and Carlos would be great friends if you gave them a chance,” they turn and walk into the Ferrari hospitality. “Oh speaking of boys, have you found a boyfriend I need to approve of?” He quickly looks back to see her surprised face before he turns back to see where he’s going, even though he could probably navigate it blindfolded.
“Well first of all, you wouldn’t need to approve of him, this isn’t the middle age,” yn lets out a small laugh, “and second, all of my relationships have failed, you’re partly to blame for pulling me to almost every race, and then I guess I’m just not girlfriend material.” She follows her dad around, because even if she does get pulled to all races, she usually doesn't hang out here for more than 5 minutes before she’s off to find Max or George. 
“Chérie, anyone not willing to spend the short time you're home isn’t worth your time,” he stops in his track turns around and puts a hand on her shoulder, “and I’m not sure if I ever said it, but if you truly would prefer to stay home and only travel to a few, that is fine. I would understand.”
She gives him a reassuring smile, “I know. You wouldn’t have been able to drag me out of the house if I didn't truly want to be here.”
He gives one quick smile before continuing walking, and before she knows it, she’s left to herself because he’s needed for something important.
~~~
It doesn’t take long for Charles to spot yn, sitting by herself, because apparently everyone else is busy today. “Yn? what are you doing here? I thought you’d be off doing something with Max?” Charles looks around to see if Max is around and he just hadn't seen him, but it’s a lost cause, which he should have realized, Max wouldn’t be seen anywhere near anything related to Ferrari. Except for Charles of course.
“No he’s busy. Everyone suddenly got busy.” She looks back down at her phone and the messages between her and her friend, however it would be rude to text back while Charles is in front of her, so she turns it off and stuffs it in her pocket. “I don't really remember the last time everyone, well except for you I guess, was busy at the same time.” 
“Well, I’m meeting Lando and Oscar for lunch, do you want to join us?” Charles asks with a smile, flashing some cute dimples. Not that anything could ever happen between the two. As attractive as Charles may be, her dad was his boss, and nothing good was going to come out of that. 
“I think I’d like that,” she smiles back as she picks up her bag with her essentials, “it’s nothing fancy right? I didn’t really get dressed for something over the top.” She looks down at the ripped jeans and the oversized t-shirt that she’s wearing. Not exactly the cutest outfit.
~~~
“So you still live with your dad?” Oscar asks curiously, they all seemed fairly happy she was invited by Charles. And Oscar, who she hadn’t really spent any time with, has been asking a lot of questions. 
“I do. I may be 21, but living at home is just a little easier. And I like spending time with my dad, even if I run off to other teams at the first chance I get.” She answers as she takes another bite of her food. Lando has been awfully quiet and it didn’t go over yn’s head. She was fully aware of how glued his eyes were to his food. 
“Is it weird? That your dad is responsible for a Formula 1 team?” Oscar almost forgets to eat, because of all the questions he’s asking.
“It was in the beginning, but I've gotten used to it by now,” she takes a sip of water. “Is he always this quiet?” yn looks at the way Lando is poking his food “and is he always just poking his food?” She questions, making Lando's eyes move up for just a split second and then back down to his food.
“No. He’s usually pretty chatty, maybe he’s just nervous for tomorrow," Oscar says, finally eating some of his food. “He doesn’t usually get like this before a race though,” Oscar leans his head a little to the side as if thinking about it, before poking a finger in Lando’s side making him jump a little. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Oscar asks.
“Maybe he’s got a new crush,” Charles jokes, taking a bite of food just as Lando suddenly coughs and gulps down water.
“Are you okay?” Yn asks as Lando suddenly gets up from his chair avoiding any and all eye contact.
“No, I’m actually not feeling so great. I think I’ll have to cut this short if I want to be good to go by tomorrow.” He quickly gathers his things as everyone looks confused. “Bye!” And then he’s out of there.
“Well that was weird.” Oscar says as he goes back to eating
“Do you think it was me?” Yn looks at the rest of the men sitting around the table, a little sad that she may have ruined their lunch.
Charles smiles. “Yes,” he says, looking at yn, “but in a good way. I think I might be right, even if it was just a joke.” He lets out a laugh. “I’m sure there’s some truth to it.” He goes back to eating, and so does yn, deciding that maybe she’ll talk to Lando in private.
~~~
On his way back to the hotel, Lando struggles to figure out his emotions. Of course yn is absolutely gorgeous. But considering she’s Fred's daughter he wouldn’t dare to think of her as anything but a friend. He may not race for Ferrari, but he still has a lot of respect for the man. And Lando knows about his reputation of not being able to keep his relationships going for long. Hopefully he can just subtly ignore her. Because the feelings, and thoughts he had during that lunch were not friendly. And before he even considers anything, he needs to make sure his feelings for her are romantic, and not just him finding her pretty.
~~~
Lando spent close to 4 months avoiding yn to the best of his abilities, and when he wasn’t ready and she caught him off guard he made up some weird excuse about needing to look at data, test the car, try some new Mclaren merch for photoshoots. Yn usually knew they were lies, and wondered why Lando was so set on avoiding her. To be quite honest, it brought down her mood, and she spent more and more time in the Ferrari garage and hospitality. Her dad sensed something was wrong. She was rarely there and suddenly she never left? Something was going on and he was going to get the bottom of it. 
“I see you’re spending time here today,” Fred sat across from yn. She was eating lunch. Alone. That was how she spent most of her time lately. All alone. Lando had unknowingly made her really anti-social.
“I guess.” She poked a little at the salad she had bought. She didn’t really want it anymore. 
“Did the others have plans?” Fred asks, looking around.
“I’m not sure.”
“Is something bothering you?” Fred asked, concerned for her daughter who used to have a lot to talk about. A lot of people to talk to, and who never spent time at lunch alone in Ferrari.
“Nope.” Fred sighed. He wasn’t going to get any answers. If it was because she genuinely just didn’t feel like talking today or if there was something wrong, he wasn’t sure. But he was gonna ask Max, or maybe Lewis to talk to her. He didn’t want her to be lonely. He got up from his chair. He had to get this started immediately. 
Fred’s quest to find Lewis was surprisingly easy. He found the soon-to-be Ferrari driver hanging out with Charles and Carlos near their own garage. “Lewis! Can we talk?” Fred called out before he reached them. Lewis just nodded and started walking towards Fred.
“Is it about my contract?” Lewis asked cautiously. He knew he hadn’t been performing that great in the Mercedes this year and was afraid Fred was going to only make it a year so he could be finished with him.
“No. I need you to talk to yn. She's suddenly spending a lot of time with Ferrari, but alone. Which, as you may know, isn’t where, or how, she usually spends her time.'' Fred looks really concerned, and it’s like it’s transferred to Lewis immediately. He’s known yn ever since her dad started dragging her along. She would usually spend time with George when she went to Mercedes, but sometimes when George wasn’t there and she just wanted to be somewhere else, Lewis and yn would play some games. Usually chess. Lewis was definitely better than yn but she still loved it. They could often lose track of time and suddenly one from the Mercedes team would come and get Lewis to either do some media related stuff or because it was time to get ready for a race.
“Of course! Now that you mention it, I haven't seen her around Mercedes for quite some time now. I’ll see what I can do, if I can't figure it out, I'll have Max ask her. They’ve always had quite a special bond I don't understand” Lewis gives the man a reassuring smile and a clap on the shoulder “Don’t worry, we’ll get her back to her talkative self very soon.”
“Thanks Lewis,” Fred looks relieved, but only for a second when his eyes widen. “Do you think Max did something to her? To make her feel this way?” He looks around as if he's scanning the surroundings for Max. And good thing he isn’t around. It wouldn’t have been a good outcome.
“I doubt it. He’s always been nice. Especially to her,” when he realizes how that may sound to the man in front of him and the way his eyes narrow, he quickly adds “as a friend. Not romantically. I’m pretty sure he’s actually in a relationship.” Fred seems to almost relax at those words and gives Lewis a quick pat on the shoulder
“Hurry up and get my daughter back. I miss her.” and with that he walks off. Hopefully not to find Max. And if so, Lewis sure is glad he isn’t Max right now.
~~~
When Lewis finally finds yn sitting just on the outside of the track he’s surprised she was allowed. But then again she probably just mentioned being Fred's daughter and she was allowed. “Hey there. Looking cozy. Mind if I join you?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just sits down next to her on the grass.
“What do you want?” She asks. Not really feeling the company right now.
“You haven’t been spending much time with George lately. Have you been spending more time with Max?”
“No.” Straight to the point. But not really the point Lewis was looking for.
“Have you been spending time with Charles and Carlos? Since you’re spending so much time with Ferrari at the moment?”
“Would that be a crime?” She looks at Lewis, and he sees something different. Her eyes don't look as alive as they usually do. They’re missing the glow that makes yn herself.
“Yn, is something wrong? You know you can talk to me. Or Max,” he waits for a second, not sure if he should continue, but as she starts plucking at the grass without answering he decides she needs to know. “Your dad is worried about you.”
“Oh.” She answers, plucking a few more grass straws
“Did something happen?” Lewis asks, trying a different approach.
“I don't know. Maybe you should ask Lando.” Lewis is unsure what Lando has to do with this entire situation, but he promised Fred to get to the bottom of it, so he will.
“Did he do anything?” Lewis is ready to fight Lando. “If so, I’ll gladly talk to him”
“Well, maybe he’ll talk to you,” yn shrugs and gets up from the grass. “I have no idea what I did to him. He seemed happy enough about me being invited to join him, Oscar, and Charles for lunch a couple months ago, and then during lunch he was so quiet, barely looking up from his food and then he suddenly said he wasn’t feeling great and needed to leave.” Yn turns around and looks at Lewis, tears starting to form in her eyes. “He has ignored me ever since. Every time I’ve tried to talk to him he either runs away or makes up some dumb excuse to get away from me,” she wraps her arms around herself as if to protect herself. “I’m sorry,” she says, shakes her head and turns around again and starts walking away. “I shouldn't have put all of this on you. I'm probably just overthinking it anyway.”
"Wait!" Lewis is quick to get up from the grass and gets a hold of yn’s arm, ”I’m glad you told me. Let me talk to Lando. See if I can figure out why he’s avoiding you. Maybe there’s a reason,” yn smiles a small smile, but it’s better than the empty expressions she's had lately. “Nice to see you’re still capable of smiling.” Lewis returns it with a smile of his own and guides her towards the Mclaren hospitality. “Now let’s get to the bottom of this.”
“Thank you. Not just for this, but also for always putting up with my bullshit.” Yn looks straight ahead. She wasn’t exactly planning on saying any of that, but oh well. It won’t hurt anyone. 
Lewis just laughs and pushes her lightly. “You should be grateful. It's impossible to keep putting up with it.” If he wasn’t laughing while saying it, she would have been hurt, but she just laughs with him and follows him, to hopefully get some answers from Lando.
~~~
Lando was not expecting to see Lewis, so he wasn’t able to run off as quickly as he usually does, and when he spots yn behind Lewis, he tries to make up some excuse about having to talk to an engineer about a possible car problem but Lewis stops him. “Lando. That’s enough.” He puts a hand on Lando's shoulder before he gets a chance to run off. “Why do you keep running away from yn?”
Lando sighs, he can’t run away from it anymore. “I kinda would prefer for this conversation to happen between just me and yn.” He runs a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. 
Lewis looks back at yn, then at Lando, then back at yn, “are you fine with that?” He asks, while she nods and follows Lando into his drivers room
“So.” Lando starts, not really sure how to get the conversation going.
“Why have you been ignoring me for the past 4 months?” Yn asks, wanting to get this solved as soon as possible. “Did I say something that upset you so much during lunch that day?” Yn can feel the tears threatening to spill over, but she would like to get through this conversation without crying.
“No! Oh my god. Not at all!” He turns around because he’s not sure he can look at her while telling her this. “I think I might, sort of, have feelings for you.” The room is filled with silence. Lando is almost afraid she ran out of the room, If it wasn't for the fact he could hear her breathing. 
“So you decided the best action was to avoid me?” Yn asks, with a playful grin. If she had known this was all it was she would have had someone talk to him earlier. 
Her playful tone makes Lando turn around with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you or run off every time you tried talking to me. I was just afraid I would end up spilling a full love confession, and I’m not sure your dad would be too happy with that.”
“Well he doesn’t get a say in my love life.” Yn closes the distance between her and Lando. 
“I suppose you’re right.” Lando takes a step forward, making the distance between them smaller.
“So are you going to be doing anything about it?” Yn tilts her head slightly.
“When I have planned it,” Lando smiles and takes a step back as he feels a vibration in his pocket. “Damn, I actually do have to go now,” a text from his engineer asking him to come back for a meeting. Lando grins and walks towards the door, “but you're totally free to stay here until I’m back. And trust me, I’ll be spending the entire meeting planning the perfect way to ask you out.” He flashes a quick smile before he's out of the door and yn is left alone in the room. But this time being all alone is different. She doesn't feel all alone. She’s the happiest she’s been in four months.
~~~
“I have the perfect plan.” Lando and Oscar are doing a track walk just to have something to do and make sure the track is fresh in their memory for the practice the next day. 
“Yeah?” Oscar isn’t really sure it’s going to be as perfect as Lando thinks it is. “Are you totally sure about that?” He questions, raising an eyebrow, while taking in the surroundings of Monaco.
“I’m 100% sure.” Lando nods. He knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s in fact not going to ask directly. He’s made a fun little game, and got a few drivers in on it. “Just promise me to not ruin it when she comes to you.” Oscar sighs. He obviously isn’t going to spoil it.
“How are you going to ask her? If you aren’t doing it directly.”
“That’s a surprise.” And no matter how much Oscar pushes, Lando doesn't tell. Just smiles and shakes his head.
The next day when yn arrives at the paddock Alex greets her as soon as she’s arrived. “For you.” He says and hands her a letter.
“For me?” Her face is full of confusion as she opens the letter. 
“Dear yn, I’ve made a little scavenger hunt for you. I hope you’re going to have fun. At the end you’ll find a surprise. Here’s the first clue.”
That’s the end of the letter. “So what's the clue?” If anything she's even more confused now, it doesn’t even say who it's from. It could be from George. But she doubts it. He’s never done anything like this before.
“Oh right, I almost forgot,” Alex rushes and pulls a small lego car from his backpack. more specifically a Mclaren lego car.
“So I'm guessing I have to go to Mclaren?” She questions and looks at Alex who just shrugs. So that’s where she heads to next. Who knows how long this is going to last. She does think it’s going to be fun though. She’s always loved clues.
As she gets closer to the Mclaren garage she finds Oscar standing looking around holding a letter in his hand. As he notices her, he walks towards her. “Here. From a mystery man.” He says, hands her the letter and walks off trying to look mysterious.
Yn laughs and opens the letter. This time, there’s no text. Just a card. “Happy fathers day.” She reads out loud. That’s all the card says. “I guess that means i’ll have to go to my dad?” She wonders out loud. Would this person involve her dad? Would her dad want to be involved? “Hm, probably just ferrari.” She says as she notices the card is mostly red.
She walks over to the Ferrari garage but can't find anything and decides it might be at the hospitality. As she enters the building she notices Carlos standing with a smile on his face and a whistle in his hands. “Here you go.” He hands her the whistle as she reaches him. 
“That's it? Not a letter? Anything to guide me more than-'' she looks down at the whistle now in her hand, “a whistle?” She looks back up at Carlos who looks around.
“Consider the first letter of the whistle.” He whispers and quickly walks off, whistling. 
“The first letter of whistle is w. So..” she thinks for a second. “Williams?” She laughs and quickly walks over to the Williams hospitality, but to her surprise finds no one, and decides it must be their garage then.
Here she finds Logan happily holding a small boat toy. “For you.” He says and hands it to her. Happy to be included. She smiles and wonders if this is the last one.
“Thank you, Logan.” She sends him a smile and walks to the dock to find a boat. Not really sure which type of boat, big or small. But she’s determined to find it. 
When she gets to the dock, she fears it’s going to take a long time, until she spots Charles casually sitting on a yacht. As she approaches she notices a full basket of red bulls sitting beside him. “I guess I’m going back to the track. To Red Bull. Their garage?” She is sure to get those 10k steps she’s supposed to get every day. 
“Yeah, if you want something to drink on your walk, I have plenty,” he pushes the basked towards yn and gestures for her to bring it, “in fact, let me join you on the way back, I was only sent here to give you the clue, and I don't drink Red Bull, so I can return it.” He smiles and gets up, taking the basket full of cans. “Are you having fun so far?” Charles starts walking back towards the track with yn following.
“Yeah. It’s a lot of fun,” she answers as she opens a can of the regular Red Bull, "I'm excited to see who set all of this up though” she looks ahead and takes a sip of the can.
“I can’t wait for you to see who arranged it,” he says. And that’s all he says. Yn tries to get more clues about who it is, but Charles’ mouth is shut. He’s not letting anything slip. And they arrive at Red Bull way earlier than yn was expecting so she doesn't get nearly enough time to interrogate Charles about who it is. 
“I see you’ve come to terms with the fact Red Bull is the best.” Max teases as Charles and yn are within hearing range of a normal voice. While holding a bouquet of flowers?
“Ha ha ha,” Charles smiles, as he hands Max the basket full of red bull cans, “I’m just keeping yn company, and decided to return these as I won’t be able to drink them.” Charles laughs and gets into a conversation with Max until yn clears her throat, reminding them she’s still there.
“I’m looking for a clue,” she says, begging that it's close to being over because she’s tired of walking from one side of the track to another over and over.
“Oh right,” Max hands her the bouquet of flowers he was holding. She takes them in her hand and her eyebrows furrow.
“What kind of clue is this?” She looks at Max whose eyes go wide.
“I forgot this.” He pulls a letter out from his pocket and hands it to her.
“Another letter. Is this the last one? I don't know how much more walking I can do.” She looks so defeated but reads the note.
“If you received this letter, that means you figured out all the clues. I know you were just there, but you can find me on Charles’ yacht. Where the big surprise is waiting.”
She looks up as she finishes reading. “He’s got to be kidding. I swear to fucking god, if this is George and he just made me walk from that yacht, back to the track and then back to that stupid yacht i’m going to go insane.” You look back at the letter. 
“My yacht isn’t stupid.” Charles pouts as Max hits him on the arm. “Ow?”
Yn sighs, “I guess I’ll get going. Thanks for the flowers I suppose.” 
“Oh they were not from me. They were from him. Just hurry up,” Max looks down at his phone, “practice starts kinda soon, and he can’t be late.” Yn starts walking back towards the yacht. She can't wait to kill the man that made her walk this much.
Lando however has been setting everything up ever since yn and Charles left. Strawberries covered in chocolate, and since he doesn't like chocolate, strawberries without chocolate, candles on a small table on the sun deck. As yn gets closer, Lando walks down to greet her. “I swear to fucking god George if this is yo-” her sentence gets cut short as soon as she sees Lando. “You set all of this up?”
“Yeah. You didn’t seem to like it that much?” Lando rubs the back of his neck. He wasn’t the best planner of a scavenger hunt.
“I kinda wasn’t the biggest fan of walking all the way out here, back to the track and then back here again.” She crosses her arms, but seeing the concerned look on Lando’s face she relaxes her arms and walks onto the yacht with a huge smile. “It was still kinda fun.” 
They spend a little while on the boat, sitting with their feet almost touching the ocean. Lando is not really sure if he should put an arm around her or not. He decides not to move too quickly and they just sit next to each other. “Oh I almost forgot,” she turns and looks at Lando. “I was supposed to tell you to hurry up, practice starts soon and you can’t be late,” she looks down at the strawberries, “but you distracted me.”
“Oh shit!” He gets up quickly and puts his shoes on, “meet me at the track! I would love to spend some time with you between practice 1 and 2!” He hurries up and practically runs all the way to the track.
~~~
For the next couple of weeks Lando spends a lot of time wondering how quickly to move forward. They spend a lot of time sitting near water, almost like the first time, except they don't have access to Charles' yacht every day. Every time Lando wonders if he should put an arm around her, but he never does. Until one day, when they’ve been sitting at the end of the gangway on the dock, their feet so close to the water, if they stretched them out their toes would be dipped in the water, and Lando’s arm comes closer and closer to making its way around yn. “Just do it already,” she says and leans on him, putting her head on his shoulder, “I've been waiting for the last many weeks for you to do it.” Lando can’t help but let out a small laugh and put his arm around her. 
“I wasn’t sure if you even wanted it.” He looks down at her quickly before looking back at the water. 
“I've been waiting for you to make some sort of move, so I knew if it would be appropriate to do this.” She says, as she sits back up straight and puts her hands on Lando’s cheeks and pulls his face closer. He puts his hands on her waist and pulls her closer while making sure none of them fall into the water. Her lips meet his softly, a tentative brush that sends a wave of electricity through her body. The kiss deepened, growing in confidence, and everything else faded away. All that existed was the two of them.
When they finally break apart, Lando puts his forehead against hers, a smile stuck on his face. He would never be able to forget this moment, and she wouldn’t either. “I’ve dreamed of this moment ever since that time Charles invited you to lunch.” Lando shares, not aware that yn has shared the same feeling since he shared that he had feelings for her.
“I was sure you’d do something about it sooner.” Yn lets out a small laugh and leans against Lando’s shoulder as he puts his arm around her.
“I was too afraid you didn't want to,” he says and lets out a sigh. “And I guess I just never thought to just ask.” 
“Well, you should have.” She smiles, before looking up at him, and he can’t help but smile back. They sit like that for a while. Just enjoying each other's company.
~~~
A couple weeks later, when they’re lying on the couch in Lando’s apartment, watching a movie, yn can’t help but smile, thinking about this moment, and how she never thought this would be a reality in her life. “Can you believe it?” She says in a soft whisper, her voice barely even audible.
“Believe what?” Lando asks, while his other hand mindlessly runs through the soft strands of her hair.
“This. Us. I never thought I’d be in such a happy relationship while traveling so much.” She says, softly tracing small circles on the back of his hand, that’s draped across her waist.
“Well I’m glad you're happy,” He says, placing a kiss on the top of her head, earning a soft hum from the woman. “You know, you could bring some stuff here. Just enough for a drawer if you don’t want to get too serious.” He mumbles, nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck.
She can’t help but smile, because she had been thinking of asking. “That would be nice, especially considering how much time I spend here.” She brings his hand up to her lips and places a soft kiss there, before going back to the movie.
~~~
It didn't take long for her to basically move in. It wasn’t official, but it might as well have been. She spent more time there than she did at her own home. But Lando didn’t mind. In fact, he loved having her there. They even started spending time together publicly, whether that was around Monaco when it wasn’t a race week, or if it was in the paddock. The fans had noticed how close they had gotten, and speculation quickly began. Were they a couple? Just friends? No one knew. Did Fred? No. But he wasn’t stupid, he knew something was going on, but he didn’t want to ask. But he didn’t mind, as long as yn was happy. And she was, for the first couple of months. And then it seemed like Lando had other priorities. Of course she knew racing was important to him, and she didn’t expect to suddenly be on the absolute top of his priority list, that would always be F1 and she knew that. However, that didn’t stop the feeling of neglect starting to spread through her. She knew he had a packed schedule, but she would often find herself wishing he had more time for her, yet it just seemed he got less and less time for her.
As the relationship between them progresses, small arguments make it to the surface. Usually sparked by the fact yn feels unimportant, or that Lando misses a date or an anniversary. It’s never his intention, and he always makes it clear that he loves her, but as it continues to get worse and worse, she begins to question it. She even stops believing him 100%.
It was 2 am. Lando had just returned back to the hotel after the race in Singapore. He silently opened the door to the room he was sharing with yn, expecting her to already be sound asleep on the bed, but to his surprise she was sitting up, leaning against the headboard with the bedside lamp on.
“Can we talk?” She asks, her voice soft but filled with a hint of vulnerability.
“Of course.” Lando quickly closes the door and walks over to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Look, I know racing is extremely important to you, that it’s everything to you, but,” she pauses for a moment, not really sure how he’s going to take this. “What about us?” She asks, her voice shaking slightly.
“I know it’s been tough, and I’ve not been the best, but I’m under a lot of pressure right now,” Lando looks up at her and he can see the way his words hurt, and he can’t help the defensive tone that creeps into his voice. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Didn’t have a choice? You’ve always had a choice! You chose to sign up for all those PR events. All the additional promotional videos. Do you know how it feels to always be the last thing on your mind?” Her voice raises a little as the frustration takes over, and she searches Lando’s eyes for a reaction, just some sort of reaction.
“I never wanted you to feel that way,” Lando sighs and looks her in the eye, he genuinely never wanted her to feel like she was his last priority. “But this is my career, it’s what I’ve worked towards my entire life.” 
“And where do I fit into that? When you talk about your future, you’re talking about your next race, the next podium, the next win. I can’t continue to just sit back and wait for you to finally have time for me. I can’t continue to just be a spectator in your life, Lando.” The hurt is visible on her face, and she turns away momentarily to look out the window. The rain is subtly falling outside, and small drops of water roll down the window.
“I thought you understood when we got together.” He says, trying to defend himself. “This is my life, my dream. I never wanted you to feel like you're not important.” His voice softens, but his tone is still defensive as he tries to avoid addressing the core issue.
“I did understand. And I’ve been nothing but supportive, but it’s been months of you forgetting a date, or something else. And I’m not asking you to quit racing, I would never do that. All I’m asking is that I become a priority too. Because right now it feels like you’ve made a choice. And it’s not me.” Tears start to swell up in yn's eyes, and Lando is at a loss for words. He never wanted it to get to this point, but he doesn’t know what to say. He looks away, and that’s the last straw for yn. She swings her legs off the bed and grabs her suitcase that she packed as soon as she returned from the race, since they were planning to leave early in the morning anyway. “I’ll give you some time to think about all of this. But I won’t be waiting forever. Figure out if this is something you want. Because I can’t keep doing this.” And with those words she leaves the hotel room, and into the elevator.
She walks out into the rain, with tears flowing freely from her eyes. She stops and takes a deep breath. She doesn’t want it to end between her and Lando, but she also can’t continue to just be a bystander in her own relationship. As she grabs her suitcase and is about to begin walking she hears Landos voice. “Wait!” 
She turns around and sees him walking in long strides toward her, the rain already drenching his hair. “I don't want to lose you. I’ll never leave you alone again,” he says as he reaches her. “I remember how it felt when we were sitting by the water on our first unofficial date. Every time I look at you, it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time all over again. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He places a hand on her cheek and gently rubs his thumb along her cheekbones. “Please don’t leave. We’ll make it work. I’ll make time for you. You’ll be my first priority, I promise.”
She looks up at him with an aching heart at the raw emotion in his voice. For a moment she wants to believe him, to just forget all the missed moments, but the pain is still too much. 
“You say that now, but what happens when life gets busy again?” She asks in a whisper, her voice shaking as she speaks. “What happens when I become the last thing on your mind again because something else takes priority?”
Lando’s hand trembles slightly against her cheek, but he doesnt pull away, and neither does she. The rain falls a little harder, and their breaths are visible in the cool air of the night.
“I won't let that happen.” His voice is filled with an urgency, a need, that she’s never heard before. “I know i’ve failed you, but this time-”
“”This time,” she interrupts him and takes a step back, resulting in his hand slipping from her cheek. “How do I know this time is any different?” She looks at him with tearfilled eyes, waiting for an answer she might not want. But it doesn’t come. Instead, Lando takes a step closer and his eyes are filled with so much love and hope.
“Because this time, I know what it’s like to lose you,” his voice is trembling and he pauses for a moment, searching for the right words. “And I can’t. I can't lose you.”
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onlyangel4 · 3 months ago
Text
life of pain. LL30. part one. smau + written.
liam lawson x chronically ill reader
reader has dealt with pain for as long as she can remember but what she did not respect was for her pain to be the reason she met her soulmate.
author's note: i shall be writing this from experience so reader suffers from elher's danlos syndrome, chronic pain syndrome and chronic fatigue syndrome. but if you have a different chronic illness please do imagine it as that
faceclaim: kristine froseth
part two
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y/ninsta posted a story
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written: think i just won daughter of the year
y/ninsta posted a story
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written: pj day
y/bff replied to this story: are you alright y/n you only wear pjs all day when it is a tough day
y/ninsta: i'm okay just been suffering the past week
y/bff: aren't you going to vegas soon
y/ninsta: fly out tomorrow
y/bff: just be safe okay love don't push yourself too far
y/ninsta posted a story
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written: can't wait to celebrate you this weekend, love you dad
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y/ninsta posted a story
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written: fit check
y/ninsta posted a story
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written: finally here
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"great more walking", you whispered under your breath as you tucked your phone back into your handbag. this was not your dad's fault, he had no idea that you had hardly gotten out of bed all week and now you were in las vegas pushing your body to do things that it really did not want to do. your lids were already heavy, ready for bed and it was barely 9pm, a feeling that you were used to but would never feel normal.
you had decided that you wanted to get good pictures from this trip, so you had only packed heels, a cruel way of forcing your pained body to wear the fashionable shoe rather than slipping into your good old faithful worn out sneakers.
slowly weaving through the crowd you made sure to keep your head up and not slump shoulders, a way of making sure the shooting pain in your shoulder didn't get worse. but as you walked your eyes looked up to see a large group of people walking towards you, they already looked drunk. fucking brilliant.
you just continued to walk forward feigning importance with each step but even then you got shoved by one of the men. your brow furrowed, no one got to disrespect you like that. you turned to get a look at the man who had shoved you and give him a piece of your mind but you quickly regretted that choice.
you twisted badly on your right near and as you were in heels there was no stopping your right knee from dislocating. something that happens all the time but does not get any less painful. your joint quickly popped out of place and then back in but the damage was done as a yelp left your lips and you crumbled down to the floor.
the people in the paddock were too preoccupied with the excitement that comes with attending a formula one race that they just did not notice you on a crumpled heap on the ground hand grasping your knee just to make sure that it was properly back in place.
you were getting yourself ready to stand back up all by yourself when you noticed a blonde man with his eyes looked on you making a beeline towards you. "shit are you alright, you took quite a spill there", he spoke and your brain registered the accent instantly. "i'm okay i do stupid stuff like this all the time", you spoke and the man gave you a gentle smile, "what exactly happened that looked a little more than a small fall?"
"my dislocated", you spoke seeing the usual horror spread on his face.
"shit do i need to call an ambulance"
"no, like i said this happens all the time"
the man looked at you with pure concern on his face, you could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tried to work you out.
"i have elhers danlos, you probably have never heard of it but it just means my joints like to dislocate all the time"
prince charming slowly nodded, "okay lets get you up and then i can help you find your friends"
"i'm here with my dad, he text me saying he was in the williams garage. i was trying to find him"
"okay i'll help you find him", he spoke before wrapping his arm around your waist.
"if you are going to touch me like that i better know your name mister", you teased as you heaved yourself up into a standing position.
the man looked a little taken back by your question almost like you should have known who he was, "i'm liam", he smiled
"nice to to meet you liam, i'm y/n", you spoke before beginning the walk with him, his arm still around your waist, just helping you keep your balance as you hobbled over towards the williams garage.
the walk to the garage was really nice, liam was asking you all sorts of questions like where you were from and what your medical condition really meant for you. you yapped on about your life, enjoying the man's company as you got to the williams garage.
your father was stood outside eyes searching for you but when he spotted you and your company his mouth opened wider, "Oh y/n", he called out as you and liam approached him.
"you worried me girl, did something happen", he spoke still side eyeing liam making you quirk an eyebrow.
"i'm okay, my knee dislocated, i'm fine though", you spoke knowing how worried your father got sometimes.
but your father was a little more focused on the man next to you, "liam", he spoke, "it is lovely to meet you", he smiled and you frowned a little, how did your father know liam?
"i am very happy to see you back in f1, you drive brilliantly"< your father spoke and you gasped.
"shit, you are liam lawson, the new rb driver", you spoke turning to him, "i am so sorry i didn't recognise you, i am a casual f1 fan, my dad here is the real superfan", you explained to the man rambling on a little bit.
"that is okay y/n it was kind of refreshing to meet someone that doesn't know who i am", he spoke kindly, "i'm going to have to head back over to the garage for some media bits but i was wondering if i could have your number. i could hustle you two seats in the rb garage for the race", he spoke, "it will a lot safer there for you", he smiled.
your father was looking at you two starstruck and you just nodded, "of course", you spoke before he gave you his phone and you plugged your number in, "thank you for helping me liam", you spoke before waving him goodbye.
he left you stood there stunned as your father asked you ever question under the sun about your interaction with the driver.
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fancyfade · 10 months ago
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Honestly I do think of Cass's reading, and her initial desire and later refusal to try*, has a lot to do with her perfectionism and well... like "sore-loser-ness" (not saying that you're a loser if you can't read, but like. she perceives not being good at something as "losing" and she hates it).
in one of the really early Batgirl issues (#3? I can't remember?) we see Cass tries to save a man who writes a letter to his wife, and she starts trying to read and write after seeing how the man's wife was affected by his letter. Then it's kind of ditched for a while. Later, Cass and Babs have friction because Cass doesn't try to learn how to read and it makes Babs mad, and she belittles Cass in a moment of stress.
And like. For Cass, we see that a lot of fighting stuff (which she perceives as very important) comes naturally to her. Barbara spars with her with escrimas and Cass picks up on it in 5 minutes, just from the body language reading. Cass learns Shadow Thief's techniques while fighting him. She also values being perfect, being great right away. When she temporarily has lost her body-language reading, she asks Bruce how long it takes until she's as good as he is, re-training herself, and he says probably 10 years. She thinks David (her bio father who raised her as an assassin with no language) made her perfect in just 8, and there's the whole repeated quote - Perfect for a year, or mediocre for a lifetime? She chooses perfect for a year - agrees that she will fight Shiva to the death in one year after Shiva restores her skills, and intends that she will die then because she won't kill anyone else (and should note - she never does really doubt that she can beat Shiva, even though other characters do).
Anyway where I'm going with this:
We have Cass, and she's got to be perfect. That's her thing. She's great at picking up new fighting skills, she tries to learn how to talk but because her brain is literally wired differently it doesn't happen until the meta messes with her brain, then it happens overnight. Her re-gaining her skill is not something that emphasized as "she trains a lot" (though we do see her training a lot - it's not what causes it to be re-gained so quickly), it's the deal she makes with Shiva. When it comes to reading, this is probably the only thing that's been that she genuinely struggles with, a lot (due to how her brain was wired), that doesn't have a quick-fix. And Cass is a perfectionist so she is going to feel embarrassed when other people find it easy and she doesn't. the way she protects her feelings is by, once she fails, not trying again. If you don't try, you can't fail and you can't feel bad about it.
*for a while
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kit-williams · 7 months ago
Note
An interesting idea recently came to my mind… and I just can’t keep quiet about it.
Imagine Horus suddenly realizing he's falling in love with a remembrancer/serf who's… pregnant.
Who the father is unknown. Either he died or abandoned you. And yes, this whole situation really pisses Horus off. He is delighted with the way you look, the way you smell and understands that he wants you to bear his child, give him blood sons.
You are cared for, you are cherished. Even too much. But he hates this child from some mortal. And then… heresy comes. After giving birth you are informed that your child, what a horror, has died. Horus consoles you, as if it was not he who crushed your son.
You will definitely become a mother. Do just let the primarch take care of you, okay?And please stop crying for your child, it's annoying. Oh, do you have any milk left? Well… :)
Yes, this whole plot and details are simply replete with horror, manipulation and perverted breeding kink. But Horus Heretic is supposed to be scary.
I don’t know if you will write a post about this or not. It would be a great pleasure to read. Unfortunately, I am not strong in Luna Wolves and Horus. Anyway, I hope all of you liked my absolutely disturbing idea.
So Momrad normally avoids stuff about hurting babehs... BUT this hit me like an Iron Warrior with a trenching shovel. Probably gonna do serf because obligatory momrad is in love with horrific power imbalances
Also ya'll have a lot more faith in me than I do myself about how I'm writing the primarchs and the legions so thank you!
tw: manipulation, breeding kink, discussion about a pregnant womans body, talks about miscarriage, child death (PLEASE someone let me know if I miss a tag)
@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog
@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy
@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog
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You had such a glow to your skin when he first saw you. He was told that pregnant women had a glow to them and you certainly glowed. It was more of a passing interest in his serfs he was always a nosy and gregarious one and you had mentioned how you'd have to be transferred to lighter labor soon not realizing the primarch was listening to your conversations.
The hesitation upon your dark lips when the other serfs, in their gossip, had asked about the father. The tight line that your lips had become... "I'm having this child by immaculate conception." You said causing the others to laugh but Horus could tell... he could tell that you were on your own not by your own choice. And that thought caused him to roil. All of his sons were someone else's son at some point and then they were made to be his... sometimes there was a choice to be made into an Astartes... and sometimes there was no choice. Perhaps it was his inhumanity or perhaps hyper-humanity that caused him to be confused as to why you continued on... and why it sounded like you had been abandoned.
Perhaps Horus was glad in some sense that you had been abandoned by the uncaring father as you made something itch in the back of his skull and eventually even he could no longer ignore it. You wilted in his presence under his gaze, like all mortals did at first, to be in the presence of a demigod... the hand pressed over your slightly swollen stomach to protect it. But Horus simply played innocent in his intentions asking about the child... what it was like as he had been handmade by the Emperor and so this aspect of being human was lost upon him and his brothers.
The glow to your skin returned with each visit he made, his fingers caressing your stomach and eventually the poisoned thought latched like a newborn to the teat... what if you could bear his sons? You try your best to not be a burden to the Primarch, your request to transfer denied, he simply says its all from curiosity... but that lie dies quickly as your body goes through more changes... once you enter your second trimester.
Your breasts leak, he can smell it... the slow dribbling from your engorged breasts. The grunts from you as you press your hand against your rounding stomach... the fascination from other serfs and even his sons and the sparkle in your eyes as a tiny foot kicks against the hand. You had other side effects and had tried to run from him during one of them... spikes in arousal and sensitivity. You once more wilted under his gaze when you realized the Primarch could smell you... and the lie for why he kept you around died.
You were far too fearful to take his cock, far too sensitive... his fingers were almost too much and yet you rode his hand... riding his digit deep inside of your fluttering cunt with the vigor of a sex starved woman. Horus' mouth latched to your breast suckling on the tasteless discharge and he could feel the way your cunt gripped around his finger with each suckle. He could feel the tiny foreign body inside of you when he pressed against your swollen stomach. And he wanted it gone. He felt kinship in the way that certain males in animals will commit infanticide to try to get the mother fertile again as it was slowly becoming clear that simply hoping you would miscarry wasn't going to happen. But still... he should have warned you to not partake in his food... you didn't know what things he could ingest.
He loved seeing you like this, his hands supporting your weight as his cock slowly pushed in and out of you as tears were rolling down your face as it was too much yet not enough. You cried out his name in weak whimpers trying to close your legs one moment and the next trying to open them wider. He could pretend for a moment that your swollen belly was full of a child that was his. He wanted an actual son of Horus from you. He wanted to create the human chimera that all humans were to be made of... that biological mashup of his DNA mixed with yours... he wanted that. He was reminded once the haze of lust had passed, and as he stole succor from your breasts that the life inside of you wasn't his. It was from a man who abandoned you without a second thought... it confused the Primarch as to why you would raise the offspring of a man who did not care about the life you were bearing? Why reward him for his genetic duty of passing on his genes? Why would he have to wait up to a year before you would be ready to have his son?
It was doubtful that he would be there... be there to snuff out the life that came from you but he told the midwife what he wanted... and who was she to disobey? And he was right as he had been called away to bring the heel of the crusade onto the neck of some fool who thinks they could withstand the might of the Emperor. When he came back you were withdrawn... having to be ordered to come to him as the depression had claimed you. He did his best to sooth you and not revel in satisfaction that seemed that the child upon leaving your womb was far too weak... you did not hear that triumphant cry of life and that was the last you saw of your babe.
Your breasts were swollen with milk for a dead child... you still cried for the life you had grown to love... cooing lovingly to the thing inside of you. Horus soothes his anger with the fact that if this had been your child with him you would have still wept so greatly. You hardly notice your back in his bed as the Primarch pulled open your front and latched onto your breast feeling the liquid dribble out as your hand instinctively went to the back of his head as he nursed. He would say it was to relieve the pain your breasts were in... but he wanted to distract you. He drained one breast dry before moving to the other drinking up the meager amount of milk meant for a tiny stomach.
Sniffling weakly as your fingers move over his scalp as he kisses you soothing you asking you if you still want a baby. The tears that fall from your eyes as you answer your primarch truthfully... you still wanted to hold the tiny body that they wouldn't let you see... you never got to say goodbye... "Yes." You say so sadly as he kisses you with that charming look in his eyes.
"Then I will make it so my dear... recover and when you are better I swear that you shall have a healthy child by next solar year." Horus says kissing you softly... and soon enough he will replace his father and bring actual peace to the Imperium. And you will help bring about such change now that your womb is empty... and once it is ready... he is certain to fill it once again with his brood.
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churipu · 1 year ago
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I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE GOJO !!! could i request him having a girlfriend that's really good in the kitchen? like both cooking AND baking !! i can imagine him getting a sugar rush (from her !!) because she tried recreating (and succeeded) his favorite kikufuku from scratch 🩷 and she's probably worrying all the time if the stuff that she makes is good because she just cooks and bakes "for fun" and not as a full time thing 🥹
SUGAR RUSH ! — GOJO SATORU + A GOOD COOK GIRLFRIEND
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featuring. gojo satoru
warning. none :)
note. hii anon! <33 i absolutely love this, i can just imagine him being so happy about having a really good cook girlfriend. i hope this is to your liking, have a great day anon! and to you readers, have a big fat sloppy kiss mwah!
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"baby, did you make this yourself?" gojo asks you, taking a bite out of the kikufuku mochi you made him this afternoon.
he had opened the freezer a few minutes prior to look for anything he can nibble on — and oolala he came across a tray of kikufuku he doesn't remember being there. but having a good cook of a girlfriend, he wasn't even surprised anymore, he's just very delighted to have his very own homemade kikufuku made by yours truly.
you nodded your head, "do you...like it? tell me how it tastes, i've been working on it for a while now so i'm not sure how it would taste."
"like it? i don't like it." gojo mutters out, eyeing you.
you didn't take things to the heart quickly, you've always believed that failing is a process of learning. so you chuckled, "don't worry about it, i'll try making another one for you. was it too sweet? or was the mochi skin weird on texture?"
gojo grins, "baby, i love it! you really should think about opening your own restaurant — i'll even fund it, no kidding." he tells you, taking another bite out of the kikufuku mochi.
opening a restaurant has been a long time dream. and gojo knew, but there are a few reasons to why it hasn't opened up till' now, you weren't confident with your own cooking. no matter how many times gojo told you about how good they are — you still think they aren't restaurant worthy yet.
"maybe next time? i don't think i have the time for it now," you were technically speaking half the truth.
you had a stable job that pays well (not as much as gojo who's a jujutsu sorcerer, but still enough) — you landed a job as a baker, so you all you needed to do was follow your boss' recipe and everything was settled.
"you can just resign and...focus on this one, hm?" gojo slithered his arms around your waist, pressing kisses on the side of your face— in a way on encouraging you, "i'll even help you, 'm sure it's going to be a great hit!"
you chuckled at his statement, "maybe in a few years, satoru?"
the male whines, burying his face into your neck. he'd never understood why you always tell him that, no matter how hard he tried to convince you about opening a restaurant, you'd decline saying that it wasn't time yet.
but gojo, he could see right through you like an open book. the problem wasn't it being "the wrong time", it was how you weren't confident with what you've made; despite him telling you thousands of time that what you made never fail to amaze him with your cooking.
you sometimes think he was saying that just to make you happy.
cooking for gojo has been a daily routine, he never asks for you to do it — you just liked cooking so much that you made it your job to always make sure he's full. knowing he has a sweet tooth, especially for kikufuku, you try your best to make them for him.
it was quite hard to nail the dessert on the first few times. but like everyone said: "practice makes perfect" and sure enough your hard work pays off, he does enjoy the kikufuku you took long to perfect. and your heart feels full.
"a few years? that's too long," he whines, "how about now?"
you laughed lightly, "you're cute. if you wanted to taste my cooking, i can just make it for you, y'know?" gojo laid his chin on top of your head and grumbled.
"i want the whole world to taste your cooking," he mutters out.
how sweet of him.
"aren't I your world?" you found yourself spouting out non-sense just to try to avoid the same topic yet again — gojo sensed so, and he didn't push on with it. if he finds you avoiding it, it just meant one thing; you didn't want to talk about it, it wasn't that hard to understand, really.
gojo nodded his head, "good point. you are my world," he laughs lightly, kissing the top of your head, nuzzling his nose into your hair.
if you could see his face right now, you'd be worried. gojo satoru, the strongest, had his brows furrowed and a frown on his face, he was worried about you. a lot. sometimes he just wants to cup your face, give you kisses and tell you that you're the best cook he has ever met, he was pretty damn sure he's heard you saying how you weren't a good cook because you do it as a hobby and not professionally — or along the lines of that.
"satoru, i'm trying to put these kikufuku in the freezer or they'll fall apart," you softly lets his arms go, "you can snack on these later if you're hungry. or maybe you could bring them to the kids too, i made quite a lot."
by kids you meant yuuji, nobara, and megumi. gojo being their teacher also meant you having a lot of meetings with the trio — and they have been nothing but sweet to you, sometimes you find yourself packing food for gojo to bring for them.
"good idea, i'll give it to them so they know how much of a good cook you are. yeah? maybe they'll help me convince you to open your very own restaurant," you laughed lightly, shaking your head at his idea.
gojo puckered his lips out, "if you don't want to open a restaurant then at least let me have one more kikufuku. last one, promise."
you shook your head, putting the tray of kikufuku inside the freezer, "you've had four! you'll get sick," gojo puts his hands on either side of your waist, carrying you to the side so he could make his way to the freezer, "hey!"
"the only thing i'll be getting is a sugar rush, angel."
"oh god, that's even worse than you getting sick," gojo turns his head to look at you, his cerulean eyes narrowed, "i am not taking care of you if you get sick, you hear me?"
gojo arched a brow, "you said that last time, and the only person who stayed by my side the whole entire time was you," he pinched your cheek gently with a large grin, "you'll take care of me, will ya'?"
knowing he was right you let out an exasperated sigh, "you're silly. don't eat more or i'll stop making them for you— i'm just afraid you'll get a sugar rush tonight. don't you remember the last time it happened?"
gojo scratches his nape with a nervous smile. a few weeks ago, you made a big strawberry swiss roll — and the male managed to chow down on it in a matter of hours. late at night, he was wide awake, babbling about how much he loves you and then proceeded to list everything that he loves about you from a to z.
it was quite sweet of him, but still: you needed sleep. as a result, you barely gotten any sleep at all and had to go to work exhausted; although gojo did apologize for his nightly sugar rush, and tried to make it up to you by "cooking" for you, which ended up disastrous as he had gotten distracted by a tv show in the middle of his cooking. no foods were served that night so you both had to get take out.
and you had to throw out your favorite non-stick pan because of that.
you appreciated his effort though (and this time he made it up to you by purchasing a pan set — which he told you was a token of his apology for ruining your favorite pan and for his sugar rush).
"hey, i was showing my love to you. and plus, you got a set of brand new pan because of my sugar rush," gojo defends himself with a smile, leaning onto the kitchen island.
"in an exchange for my exhaustion, i almost passed out at work," he gasps out dramatically.
"why wasn't i informed of that? oh my god, 'm a monster." he talked to himself, which you weren't even surprised of anymore, so you let out a soft chuckle.
"kidding. but no— i'd never like to see or hear your sugar rush anymore, i have work tomorrow. i'll be fine if it's the weekend," i poked his side, walking away.
gojo grabbed your arm, pulling you close, "what if you don't have work tomorrow?"
you arched a brow in confusion, "but i do."
he smiles ever so sweetly that it was starting to get suspicious, "oh, i know! i was just asking, y'know?"
"o...kay then?"
gojo, that slick motherfucker, called your boss and told her you were sick and wouldn't be able to come tomorrow. and so— began the restless night of his episode of sugar rush and just the tenth thousands of "i love you"s from him.
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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impishjesters · 1 year ago
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Can you do Jax x reader who has a lot of insecurities about how they look and act in the real world and the digital one? And if not you can just ignore this 💕
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Insecurities
warning(s): Jax (only slightly kidding), insecurities, mentioned dark humor to cope, minor bullying (Jax throws Zooble and Dangle under the bus on their appearance) note(s): I'm quickly learning that just like Jax, I'd probably be an awful human being to seek comfort in.. at least words of comfort... A/N: Realized more than halfway through writing that I wasn't sure if the request was separate hc's like knowing him before being yoinked into the digital hellscape and after or not... Feel free to toss another ask though and I can try some pre-digital hellscape hc's...however, I feel like they'd still be pretty similar to the post-digital hellscape reactions.
Jax is probably the last person to talk to when it comes to insecurities, real or digital
One time the topic of what everyone looked like before being sucked into the digital hellscape came up, but not everyone remembered, whether it was because they simply couldn’t remember or because they’d been there too long to remember
Jax’s response is never consistent. In one comment he’ll say he misses having long hair and was 5’4”, and the next comment is how he was actually bald and 5’10”
Now whether that’s him fuckin around or not is anybody’s guess
Currently, he’s got no real beef with his appearance, and he’s unapologetically himself digital or human. Now when it comes to you?
It can go a few different ways depending on how close the two of you are
Right out the gate, he’ll claim whatever toy-like appearance you’ve taken on can’t be any uglier than Zooble, which is like wow, harsh—they aren’t exactly easy on the eyes but that’s still a person with feelings…
He might even throw in a harsh comment about Gangle’s lack of a body, being ya know just ribbons… but hey! At least you have a body compared to her (Jax..that’s not helping..)
See what I said? Not the best person to go to with this sorta stuff
In the beginning, there’s always the gamble he might poke fun at your digital appearance and not really realize till later on that you were insecure about your appearance. (Whether it’s because someone else pointed it out or you flat-out told him.)
The closer the two of you get—friendship or romantic—he’s still an ass but once you’ve confronted him about your feelings and insecurities about your appearance, digital or human he knocks it off.
Nobody’s really voiced their complaints on what they ended up as here, at least not publically…
He’ll try to reassure you that you look fine, likely not understanding how deeply rooted something like insecurities can go and something like a “well I don’t think you’re ugly” isn’t gonna cut it.
Jax isn’t a sweet talker, or rather he doesn’t really sound all that genuine if he does, but he does try to put some emphasis that you really do look fine. (again, sweet but likely not helpful)
Now real world you? He wouldn’t know in the slightest, and while he could lie and say that the description you gave him wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, he’s not gonna do that to you (not that the appearance you gave him sounded ugly or anything).
Jax copes with dark humor and will without a doubt throw out some comment about how you won’t have to be insecure about your human appearance anymore because it’s unlikely any of you are getting out of here. (I’m sorry I’m laughing so hard because that would 15/10 make me laugh, dark humor is how I cope)
It’s not helpful (depending on the individual at least)
Oh! What about now you don’t have to worry about any acne or wrinkles?
Better? But is it really? Eh..
Overall he’s not particularly great at the whole reassurance about your appearance or how you act “I mean have you seen how some of the others act?” (Jax that’s not..helpful), but because you are someone important to him he’ll make the extra effort to listen to exactly what it is your insecure about and if you need him to reassure you he’ll do so
It might sound insincere but that’s just how he talks
On the off chance that you have a really bad day, it tugs at his heartstrings (yeah, he has those), he’ll pull you aside and give you little kisses over those places.
Insecure about something facial-wise? Face kisses.
You end up as a toy with too many legs and not enough fingers? Kisses (maybe not the legs though...)
When in doubt kisses and he’ll let you hug him or whatever, but breathe a word of this to the other’s and he’ll.. I dunno, prank you later or something. He'll have to workshop it.
Back to the act thing, I don’t personally know how someone would be insecure over that—but if you stim or anything of the sort Jax won’t really comment on it, but if someone else does? Poor them because they are about to get on the bunny’s bad side.
Gangle stims and as big of an asshole as Jax is, he’s never made fun of her for it.
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mwahs-stuff · 6 months ago
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could you please do a chuuya x fem reader where they have to pretend to be married or whatever for a mission, and then it leads to a love confession. it can lead to smut or fluff. if you dont want to do it you can ignore the ask. i love your stuff so much!!!!!!
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I actually flipping love this idea sm. thank you so much anon, mwah<3 (side note: I rlly suck at writing long stories and fluff but ima try 😼🫡)
☣cw: making out, grinding, riding, unprotected sex, (just realized I didn't put a love confession in here, but ig this is more of an "I want you" confession??. (I'm probably missing some warnings)
⋆。°✩⋆。°✩⋆。°✩⋆。°✩⋆。°✩⋆。°✩⋆。°✩⋆。°✩⋆。°✩⋆。
the mission mori gave you both was simple enough. at least it would be if you weren't engrossed with chuuya. he was just so fascinating to you. you sat at your desk looking over the mission details. you had to get details on their home security. it was a large gala, you had to play the part of a married couple, newly weds. after finishing with reading the details, you headed back to your apartment. you started to get all dolled up, a nice red dress with a low back, red lipstick, and the most beautiful ring. you were ready. you waited outside of your apartment as the driver showed up, chuuya stepped out of the backseat.. oh god, he looked great in a suit. he didn't say much as you both got in the backseat of the black car. as the driver pulled up to the nice home, you couldn't help the way your eyes lit up at the beautiful home. it was huge. you stepped out of the car, and almost immediately, you felt a hand snake around your wasit, making you shiver as you looked over to chuuya, who seemed focused.
it was even more beautiful inside!! you couldn't help but look in aw. chuuya looked pleased, too. "we should start off with some small talk, kay?" he whispered in your ear. you giggled as if he said something funny, so no one would be suspicious of it. you both walked around, drinking some champagne as you spoke to other couples.
"So are you're both newly weds? I must say you compliment each other well," a woman spoke to you both. she was obviously very tipsy. eventually, you and chuuya stepped outside, taking your time to check everything out. he was almost done before you heard footsteps, shit this looked suspicious. he quickly grabbed your waist and brought you into a kiss, making you gasp, but you quickly clashed with his tongue.he held you tighter as you bit his bottom lip softly. the footsteps stopped, and you were in the clear, but chuuya didn't pull away. he held your waist tighter and continued.. you weren't complaining. he finally did pull away. saliva still connected you both as you panted, and he did too, his lips still so close to yours. "you have no idea how many dreams I've had about that," you whispered against his lips. He let out a low growl at your words before grabbing your thigh and bringing it up to his hip, crashing his lips onto yours. after a bit, you both had to pull away due to your ride being here, but the second you both got back in that car, you were on his lap, grinding against his hard on. "I need you, doll." he whispered against your ear. those four words were enough for you to pull up your dress as he started to pull down his pants. he grabbed your wrist and brought it down to his cock. "feel. feel what you do to me." he breathed out. holy fuck. this was really happening. you pulled your panties to the side and hovered over his length, rubbing his tip against your wet entrance. "feel what you do to me." you whispered against his lips, kissing him hungrily once more as you slammed onto his dick, making him gasp into your mouth as you moaned loudly. "So tight.. fuck.." he moaned out as he guided your hips against his cock at a fast pace. it only took a little bit till he was panting into your mouth. "I'm close, doll," he groaned against your lips. you tightened against his dick at his words, making him cum inside. you moaned loudly as you came a moment later. a soft whine escaped you as you pulled off him and sat back down on his lap, panting. he pulled your panties back. "we're going to report back to mori when we get back. you're going to keep my load in your cunt when we do, got it pretty girl?" you let out a soft whine and nodded as you pulled down your dress.
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senblades · 8 months ago
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Hi :)
I love your art and your writing, and you have such a great grasp of these characters that I was wondering if you have any fic recs? Rating doesn't matter ;)
boy do I! (and ty for the compliment <3 <3 <3)
[cracks knuckles] alrighty:
The Dissapearence of Goro Akechi by Kupowonders - Probably my favourite fic ever, honestly- it's like. derailing the plot of persona 5 post-medjed thanks to the persona 4 accomplice ending years prior. (So, spoilers for p4 in that, too) it's. very good.
Marigolds by Colbub - Akechi gets ng+'ed to right when he started working for Shido, and has to take a good look at the future to come and be like "Aight how the fuck do I fix this". Fun times!
Daredevil, You've hit the wall by ez_cookie. Essentially, p5 Strikers but Sumire and Goro get to be in on the fun, too. And, there's a direct sequel currently being updated that's a similar premise for p5 Tactica. very very good stuff
A Tale of Two Tricksters by Zoe2k8 - Murder boyfriends! ...sort of? Angst! Angst and murder boyfriends! An oversimplification, obviously, but I'm not kidding when I say this fic is amazing and is also over a million words holy shit-
Throw away your mask by MollyPollyKinz - Another ng+ situation for Akechi, but this time the poor guy gets thrown all the way to 2009. You can imagine how well that goes (For the audience, less so for Akechi himself.)
The Crow Cries at Midnight by Dorked. hehe this one is very fun. Basically, a series of coincedencs causes Akechi to get thrown into the plot of persona 4. No time travel here! Just a grumpy 12/13 year-old Akechi trying to solve a murder mystery
The entire Tales of Chaos series by Eternalmomentss (The first one is called Like sand between your fingers) Very very good stuff! Something of a character study, I would say, of Ren and Goro. Plus, all the funky plot stuff that comes from trickster-typical bad luck and poor descision making. I really love this series hehe
uhh this post is getting very long I need to make this less wordy- lightning round?
Hunger for a life by Leonawriter - do you like vampires? I sure do! Mix that and the p5 plot and you get shenanigins. [evil laughter] a lot of shenanigins
Fishbowl by KivaEmber - Akechi has a terrible time in Maruki's reality. And I mean a terrible time
You have a beautiful smile underneath that mask by Saposaki - Akechi has a crush on Akira and Joker has a crush on Crow. No one is aware of the other's secret identity. Dramatic irony and hilarity ensues.
MASTERMiND by StumblingBlock - No Metaverse au where Akira really doesn't want to follow in the footsteps of his crime family, and fails miserably
Rose and Rot by SixteenJuniper - Read this!! I'm serious!! "A fun fantasy adventure" don't listen to Juniper. You'll be in tears by chapter two. (/pos, of course) (Seriously this fic is incredible)
Redressing the Balance by Convocated - ...almost a ng+? Ng+, in the sense that shuake are getting funky visions that are very quickly derailing the standard plot of p5r. This causes problems of the "Someone get the popcorn and maybe the tissues" variety
She's got a heartbeat full of lead (And she's aiming straight for the head) by Dots - This fic haunts me, often. In the best way possible, of course; but seriously, read it
Cracked into by SydneyHorses - Ren makes bad descisions and it becomes Akechi's problem. 2/2 timeloop, perhaps most notably featuring HaruGoro friendship! Love love love this fic
Okay that wasn't as "less wordy" as I intended but it'll do
Aaaand that's a wrap! Sorry for the long post.. and this is by no means all of the fics that I've ever loved (nor are the ones here in any particular order) but I swear we'll be here all week if I keep going HAHA
ty for the ask (and again for the kind words), anon! Hope this was helpful and to your tastes! (I... hope you like Shuake HAHA it's present in most of these- I assume you do, since you came to me (points at literally everything shuake I've made) of all people, but uh. Some of these fics are gen if it's not to your liking?)
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harrietswriting · 2 months ago
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Hey can you do an imagine with the gang with a reader that is struggling with mental health and they try get her to come and hang out and stuff??
an: guys thank you for the requests!!! This is a cute prompt. I'm combining this with another request I got that was for a lake day with the gang and they see your sh scars. I like the lake day idea but writing about poor mental health and sh is too much for me, so they'll be no sh in this
W: poor mental health, not entirely proof read
The Outsiders x sad!reader
They convince you to come hang out with them at the lake (platonic)
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You felt bad turning down the guys' request to spend the day at the lake, but you couldn't bring yourself to go. You've been doing really awful lately. Everything is stressful and it all feels like too much. You couldn't bring yourself to even engage in any of your hobbies. Nothing seemed to put a long lasting smile on your face.
You started crying once you hung up, after rejecting their offer. You sunk down the wall and cried. Is this how you'll be forever? Sad, hopeless, distressed? You wrapped your arms around your legs and cried into your knees as thoughts swirled in your head.
After several minutes, you feel asleep, right there in the hallway. You dreamt of a day at the lake. You dreamt that you were smiling and laughing with the guys as you all swam and jumped in. But your happy dream didn't stay long.
You were pulled underwater by an unseen force. You made fruitless attempts to escape but to no prevail. You could here a ringing in your ears and... wait a minute that's the phone.
You open your sluggishly stand up. You grab the phone off the wall and hold it to your ear.
"Hello?" You say.
"Hey, y/n, we've decided that you have to come to the lake with us." Darry says.
"Yeah we miss you!" Someone else says, it's faint.
"I- I can't go." You don't sound very sure.
"Come on! We haven't seen in days! And it'll be fun." A new voice says, probably Soda.
"But-"
"No buts."
And faintly in the background you hear, "We'll come over and drag you there."
A small smile form's on your face, but you can't bring yourself to agree to come.
"Cmon y/n, we've been worried about you." He lowers his voice a bit. "Please come."
You hesitate and think for a moment. You sigh because you know you should go. Maybe it will be fun.
"Fine."
"Great!" You can hear the phone being handed over. "Okay, meet us there at 2." Darry says.
"Okay." It's around 11 right now.
"See you there." The phone is hung up. You put the phone back on the receiver.
You had just under 3 hours to get ready. You walk off to your bathroom.
~~~
You put on a t-shirt over your swim suit, then pull on of demin shorts. You look at yourself in the mirror. You don't look.. awful. You pick up the bag that had sunscreen and a towel in it and you were going to put your clothes in. You leave the bathroom and head to the kitchen, where you left your sunglasses on the counter. You put on your shoes and looks at the time. It's 1:23. You still have awhile before you have to leave.
Thats too long to wait. You grab your keys and head out the door. You'll just stop at the store on the way and quickly pick up snacks or something. You get into the your car and pull down the sun visor. The reflection that looks back at your looks too bright, they look fake. You fix your hair and practice a smile then put it back up. You start the car and pull out of the driveway.
~~~~
"You made it!" Sodapop smiles when he sees you walking over.
You smile back. "Yep."
Ponyboy, Johnny, and Two-Bit were already in the water. Darry and Dally were throwing around a food ball, Darry pauses to wave. Just as you start to wonder where Steve is, he runs off the dock and jumps into the lake while yelling.
"We're all real glad you could come, y/n." Soda says sincerely.
"I'm glad I could come too." That wasn't entirely true.
"Soda! Y/n! Get in the water!" Steve yells at the two of you.
Soda looks at you and says, "race you" then takes off.
You scoff "thats not fair! I still have my clothes on!" You take off you shirt and shorts as quickly as possible before taking off after Soda. He jumps off the dock, and you soon follow.
You swim around, splash eachother, and play games in the water with the boys, Darry and Dally join too. You all get way to competitive when you play 500 (or spud or jackpot idk it had different names sorry). You play chicken fight which is so fun, and no life guards are around to tell you to stop.
You have fun. You genuinely smile and laugh, and you're happy. You're happy.
Everyone gets out of the water for a snack break. Its really dinner time, but no one brought enough food for a meal. You happily hand out the pops you got for everyone, having memorized their favorites. Ponyboy is over the moon when he's handed the Dr. Pepper. You also got chips. Dally smokes.
After eating eating and drinking, everyone heads back into the water, except you and Johnny. You wanted to put more sunscreen on your face. Johnny sat by you.
"We've, uh, we've all been real worried about you, y/n. ...Are you doing okay?" Johhny asks. His focuses on his hands instead of looking at you.
"I could be worse." You rub sunscreen under your eyes. You don't want to lie to him, but you also didn't want to tell him the truth, so you'd have to be vague.
"Being here helping at all?" He asks.
You smile. "Yeah, I'm glad you all convinced me to come."
"It was Dally's idea."
Shocked is an understatement. "Really?"
"Well.. I guess not. We were talking about you and how we hadn't seen you in a while. And Dallas said something about forcing you to come out of your house. Then Darry proposed this. So I guess it was Darry's idea." He shrugs.
"Wait.. this whole lake day was planned just to get me to hang out with you guys?"
He nods.
You look away and smile a little. You felt so loved by your friends. They care about you.
You look at him again. "Let's get back in the water."
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An: sorry this is short!! Please leave me more requests if you have any. I'm doing a Dallas fic nextttt. Bye loves 💕
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anjaelle · 2 years ago
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Hii I’m in loveeee with your writing I was wondering if you could write a Dave Lizewski x bimbo reader fic?
Oooh this sounds fun. I had to ruminate on this a bit, but I think I got it.
Pairing: College!Dave Lizewski x Bimbo!Reader
Rating: She's tame
Word Count: 1.3K
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--
He was staring again. Every time you turned to look at him, he would quickly avert his eyes to the front of the room. In confusion, you turned to look behind you, only to see the blank wall of the classroom. You looked back at him and found him staring straight ahead like he'd been caught doing something bad.
You pulled your phone out of your bag and opened the front facing camera to check to see if you forgot to properly blend your makeup again. Or maybe you had crumbs on your face.
It didn't look like you had anything on your face. Though you did think you could use a re-up on gloss, and maybe a touch-up on your brows. You accidentally left your makeup bag in your dorm, and you kept losing all of your backup purse makeup, so all you had was a lip balm and school stuff. You supposed that you could use this as an excuse to do a quick drugstore run across the street to pick up another backup makeup kit. But you also felt like you'd be missing out on the sushi buffet in the dining hall if you got there too late. You hadn't had sushi in a long time, it would've been a shame to miss it. Then again you could always order it from that one spot you went to with that one guy. What was his name again? Something with a "F"--
"Hello?" The professor said, addressing you and pulling you out of your thoughts. You raised your brows in surprise, and smiled sweetly.
"Hi!"
Your professor tapped her chin with a beautifully manicured nail and looked you over with a funny look on her face. "Your presentation topic for next week?"
"Oh!" You said, looking down at your notes. "Well, I might talk a little about how hard influencing is and how it's actually harder than a 9-5 job. I'm still deciding. What do you think, professor?"
There were a few whispers in the class as she thought hard on the question. At least that's what you thought she was doing.
"Why don't you workshop that and get back to me tomorrow?" She finally said, turning away from you and moving onto another classmate.
You pouted at yet another presentation subject being shot down and made a note in the margins of your notebook to do just that. You hated going to her office hours, because you felt like you could never really do anything right.
When class let out, you pulled your phone out to text your friends about your change of plans tomorrow, when you felt a gentle touch on your elbow and turned to find Lizewski. Knowing that he was quiet and always a little bit stuttery, you smiled politely and gave him your full attention.
"Hi, how are you?"
"H-Hey," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Uh...I saw that you've been having a bit of a hard time with our media class."
A few people passed by the two of you in the hallway and greeted you but shot a curious look his way.
"It's so bad isn't it?" You frowned, crossing your arms in front of your chest, "I'm literally so great at most Social Media outlets, I don't understand why this is so hard. I mean...it's all the same shit."
He nodded, wide eyed and eager as always, "You're so right."
"And I'm trying really hard, but I just can't get it."
"I can help!" He blurted out. "Only if you want. I mean, you probably don't need my help. But I'd be happy to, if you want."
"You'd help me?" You asked, genuinely touched. "I don't know if I can pay you much, but how much do you want?"
"You don't have to pay me, come on." He dropped his eyes to his sneakers and shifted his weight on his feet, "We've known each other since middle school."
This time your eyes widened in surprise, "We have?"
This time it was his turn to look at you in surprise and confusion, "You went to my Bar Mitzvah."
"I did?" Then you thought about it, "I only remember going to one, and it was this boy named David."
He let out a short laugh and nodded, "Yes, that was me."
"David?! But everyone calls you Lizewski! That's your last name?" He nodded again and you gasped. Your whole world turned upside down. Without thinking you pulled him into a tight hug, "It's so nice to see you again, David! I thought you moved away in high school!"
"No," he said against your shoulder, "I just grew my hair out. And got taller. And you can call me Dave, or David, or Lisewski. Whatever you want."
You pulled away from the hug with a huge grin, and you reached out to readjust his glasses which sat crookedly on his face. Then you looked him over, trying to see the skinny thirteen year old you remembered in the grown man in front of you. You could almost see it. If he cut his hair shorter, and lost about a foot of height, he'd totally look the same. You grasped his shoulders in appreciation.
"Well this is wonderful! I've never had a friend for longer than 3 years before!"
As you walked side by side across campus, you could feel people staring like you had three heads. After the fourth set of eyes on you, you nudged Dave with your elbow.
"Do I have something on my face?" You tilted your head from side to side so he could examine you properly, and he shook his head.
"No, why?"
"People keep staring at me." You frowned, "It's kind of weird."
Dave said nothing at first, but looked around to see the evidence of your suspicion and sighed. "I think it's because you're hanging out with me."
You snorted, "That can't be it. That's so silly."
He kicked a small rock down the footpath and hummed in disagreement, "Is it? I mean...you're you. I'm me. We don't really hang out. I think people are used to seeing you with guys from...Sigma Alpha Epsilon"
You still didn't get it, and you crinkled your nose in disgust at the mention of the name.
"I don't talk to them. They're losers," you shuddered again, "They all have a weird obsession with skulls too. Have you ever seen those skulls with the blue stripe down the middle? They all have them on their trucks. It's so weird."
You watched him raise a single brow as he kicked the rock further down the path, "Are you talking about The Punisher's symbol?"
Before you could ask, he showed you a picture on his phone and you nodded.
"Yeah that's it! What's The Punisher? Is that, like, a band?"
He chuckled, "It's a comic book character and his symbol gets misused a lot. He's a vigilante."
You frowned, thinking of why someone would choose to do something like that. That seemed kind of mean.
"Well can you really see me hanging out with a bunch of guys who like vigilantes?"
For some reason, Dave's step seemed to falter, and he peered at you curiously, "Oh. Are you--do you think vigilantes are bad?"
There was a hint of poorly disguised panic in his voice.
You were confused about why he was confused. The answer was obvious.
"Vigils are a good thing," you said, matter-of-factly. You were surprised that you had to break this down to someone as smart as him. "Sometimes people have vigils for their dead grandmas and their pets, and stuff. Someone who's anti-vigils is obviously not a good person."
Dave gave you a long, strange look and laughed. Like, actually laughed. You didn't understand what was so funny about being pro-vigils. You felt like that wasn't exactly a controversial opinion. Were you on the wrong side of history this whole time? Were vigils actually bad?
"Are they bad for the environment or something? Like, the candles?" You squinted at him. He rushed to ease your worries with an extended hand.
"No! No, it's--vigilantes aren't people who are anti-vigils. They beat up bad people."
Oh.
"What a weird name to have for that," You admitted rolling the word over in your brain. Then you brightened at the memory of something, "Hey there was a guy back home that was like that! Kick-Ass! Do you remember him?"
He said nothing for a moment, but shrugged in response.
"Yeah, kinda."
"All the girls in our grade were obsessed with him," you continued, fishing through your bag for your dorm key. "At first, we thought it was that one weird guy who used to try and sell us coke from the trunk of his car down the street from our school. But one girl said that he saved her dad from getting jumped, and he was apparently, like, young. At least college aged."
"Ha," Dave simply said, "Maybe. I kind of remember people thinking it was someone from our school, though. Someone most people wouldn't even really expect, because it'd be super hard to keep a low profile. Someone who's probably super strong and really cool, even though most people don't know it."
You suddenly giggled, "What if it was that guy Todd Haynes?"
Dave stumbled over his own feet and shot his hand out to steady himself.
"You know who Todd Haynes is?"
"Yeah, I know him. He was in my gym class!"
"He's my best friend, I've known him my whole life. I'm--shocked that you know him." You brightened at the new information.
"I didn't know Todd had friends! You sure are full of surprises today." He stared at you again. For a super long time. You weren't sure what was going on in his brain. You touched your cheek, "Again with the staring. I think you're lying. I definitely have something on my face."
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whorediaries-09 · 10 months ago
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hi lovie, me again, an anon (not so anon) James' lover. I loved your writing for the celebration, thank u, love.
so that's why I'm here again, asking, begging, imploring for a blurb, Fireman! or Policeman! James x baker! reader, something like reader's muffins burned a little sooo the smoke turned on the smoke detector.
postscript, James was already head over heels for reader and her muffins :)
oh my thank you so much love! i love it when people request for something and when i write it out they actually tell me whether they liked it or not. also please keep sending in your requests, i love your ideas!!
you're in love;
pairing- policeman!james potter x baker!reader warning(s)- fluff, james being an adorable idiot. (let me know if i should add more.) a/n- i say this again, please keep sending in your ideas, who ever you are lovely anon, i love your ideas!! i literally had so much fun writing this.
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' you two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round and he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown. '
james mouth is full of the rich chocolate muffin he stuffs into his mouth. it's buttery, soft and crunchy? it's a chocolate almond muffin he realizes as he takes another big bite. oh no, he doesn't like those. but somehow, he chews on. in his imagination, you're feeding him the muffin with your hands, a sweet shy smile on your face. he imagines then licking off the melted chocolate off your fingers, from the overdose of chocolate chips in your delicious muffins.
you're a great baker, he decides when he swallows the muffin. to be able to make the james fleamont potter eat almond muffins was tough work, for he doesn't like too much texture variation in his food. but somehow you manage to balance it out just right.
you're a great thief too, he decides. an oblivious one, though. perhaps the 'friendly' winks or the constant writing of his number on tissue papers or the nicknames did nothing more make you blush and laugh.
he loved your saccharine laughter. it reminded him of the muffins you baked. he loved the subtle blush on your cheeks. it reminded him of the jam cookies from your bakery which had been a hit during the valentine's week. he loved the crinkle of your skin beside your mouth and eyes when you smiled or laughed. it reminded him of the soft buttery croissants that you'd so beautifully crafted to bake them with the perfect texture and taste.
he watches the a butterfly flap it's wings, flutter in the sky. the sunshine reflects on the spots of it's beautiful wings just right. it feels him with a warm comfortingly fuzzy feeling soothing him. he loves it. it reminds him of the time he'd seen you smile for the first time, and felt his heart soar.
james is distracted from his thoughts when his walkie talkie beeps, grabbing his attention. he slides it out from his back pocket, brushing his muffin crumb covered fingers onto his pants. he holds it up to his ears, listening to the speaker.
'attention, officer james. smoke alarm detected in batter and crumbs. please take your team as quickly as possible.'
he doesn't listen further, running towards the bakery. it's probably unsafe, his brain says, but his heart beats otherwise, at the aspect of you stuck like a damsel in distress within a cloud of smoke and the ferocious flames of fires.
he opens the door of the bakery, entering in a rush, his shoes chafing over the polishes tiles as he rushes, runs and jumps into the kitchen. anything but a normal walk.
when he reaches the kitchen, he finds you bent over towards the microwave, smoke sizzling out the oven. his brain doesn't register the fact that there's no fire in sight, when he pulls you by your waist, steering you away from the smoking oven. you carry a burnt muffin tray in your hands, and hit the intruder's head with it.
it's hot and thus, it burns his forehead. he screams, letting go of your fighting body. he massages the burnt spot, and when the realization dawns upon you, you're quick to to run to the freezer and bring him ice.
you wrap it up in your apron, avoiding direct contact from the ice to his burn, and making him sit down on one of the chairs, you slowly place the ice. his fingers clench into his thigh, and he hisses at the contrast of feelings on his nerves.
'fuck, mr. potter, i'm so sorry,' you mutter sheepishly, slowly rubbing the ice on the burn, trying to soothe the burn. he doesn't say anything. and even though feel scared, you look at his face, searching for any signs of anger. oh why did you hit him! you just lost the hot regular who you had come to good terms with and who you had a crush on-
not a sign of anger to be found on his expression. all you saw was a dopey grin and red tinted cheeks underneath the dusk of his skin. oh.
'i-i'm sorry?' you said again, though it came out more of a question. he grins even wider, looking into your eyes. for a minute you think he's drunk, but he's a policeman on duty so...
'it's okay,' he whispers. 'heart-thief' remains silent as you stand in front of him, letting the ice soothe his burn.
for what the man seems so jolly for remains a mystery until a a few years later you're cuddled up to him watching a silly sitcom and laughing when he confesses out of the blue it was because you were so closer to him... and also because your breasts were directly in front of his hungry eyes.
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taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510
(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)
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angelrissa · 1 month ago
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Finally decided to finish writing part one to this prompt. Please ignore that I took 2 months to write like this
content warning! : descriptions of gore/injury, slight groping, no dialogue, Also i'm not particularly great with writing, its all just for fun.
wc: 648
Things just seemed too peaceful. Surely there should be more noise than the guttural moans of pain escaping your cracked lips. Yet, there was nothing, no sounds of the excessive nature surrounding you, no wildlife chirping with life, nothing, just the exhausted heaving of your chest as you desperately try to catch your breath, limping to find anyone that could possibly help you.
You can't recall how long it's been since you were separated from your team, but it was long enough to know they weren't searching any longer, but you doubt they searched in the first place, you were somebody people didn't mind losing, deadweight as they'd call it. While the fading sounds of your surroundings echoed in your mind, a sudden sharp pain snapped you back to reality. Blood gushed out of your leg, a deep red color that seemed to somehow look delectable to the raw hunger aching in your stomach. Thank goodness you saw the thick berry jam oozing from your body inviting your fingers to shove themselves into the jar and stuff the two digits down your desperate mouth. You let out a wicked scream of pain when two fingers greedily dug into your wound realizing you had further mutilated yourself, causing your feeble body to collapse to the ground. It's too bad you were oh so close to what looked like an isolated cabin standing solitary in the woods, only just a few feet away from your blurred vision.
Your senses were dulled, each breath more labored than the last, but somehow, the sight of the cabin ignited a flicker of hope within you. Clenching your jaw against the pain that radiated from your leg, you pulled yourself up with weak determination. The wound was ghastly. Hot blood pooled beneath you, staining the dry leaves and soil underneath like a gruesome work of art. But the cabin stood resolute, a solitary figure against the contamination of the forest, a chance that someone lived there.
You dragged yourself forward, each movement sending daggers of agony through your leg. You could barely focus, the world shifted in and out of clarity as you stumbled toward the door before collapsing on the dirty excuse of a front porch. The world twisted and warped around you like a reflection of your child self in a fun house mirror at the state fair. Gasping for air, each inhale felt like swallowing shards of glass that clawed at your throat. Shadows clouded your vision, thick and eerie, covering the world in a muted, dark hue. But something was wrong, completely, irrevocably wrong. One shadow seemed to stand out darker than the rest, it was the shadow oddly shaped like a man. A man so unsettling it was probably best you died here before he got his hands on you. He loomed over you, taking pleasure in your agony. Knowing nobody would ever find you out here, he's not even quite sure how you managed to get here, but oh is he thrilled you did.
His large hands quickly reach down to grab onto your body, calloused fingers roughly grazing over your breasts where your bulletproof vest previously clung to your skin, but now pathetically hung off your frame. You immediately recoil at his touch, wincing from the ache of your wounds. You may have been delirious but you just knew you weren't safe.
How sick of him to stare at you like a piece of meat while you desperately clung to life, praying you won't die like this. But he just couldn't help himself. How could he? You just weakly lay in his arms, so afraid, such a tragic girl. He needed to save you. He would be your savior whether you wanted him to be or not.
(I plan to make this a series if I have the time)
taglist - @ang3lc
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