#LIKE SHE TOWERS OVER ALMOST EVERYONE ITS CRAZY

[majunju]

catch up

[cherry-leclerc]

we never talk about it ☆ op81

genre: humor, angst, yearning, massive crushes, and lots and lots of miscommunication, assistant!reader

word count: 11k

It's unwise—longing for someone like Oscar. While he's the epitome of someone anyone can easily fall in love with, you're the epitome of a devoted girl who will fall in love with him. You might not even care too much about all the heartbreak you endure along the way.

inspired by this !

cherry here!... based on real events.

Do you remember the day we first met?

The wind doesn’t do its job in blocking him out, the way you prayed and wished it would. You’re still able to catch the crack in his voice—a distant reminder of the way it once made you giggle. Even his nose is beet red, matching the Christmas lights. But apart from all that, you still hear him. You still see him. 

You always have.

“A little bit. Yeah.”

He flinches, then tries to play it off with a soft smile. Like he doesn’t want you to uncover the slight hurt he feels. But he can’t read your mind. He never could. And that was the problem.

Oscar nods, feigning indifference. “I do. Remember it all, I mean.  Think back to it quite often."

-

It’s utterly useless to try and ignore him, really.

His hair is too fluffy, his eyes are too bright, and his accent is making you want to flaunt the way some loony character would with a hand over their heart. It was honestly a tad bit demeaning.

But you can't help it. You admire the way his brown locks fall in a lousy manner when he towers down to sign the contract. You blush when his eyes get that twinkle in them. And you swoon over almost anything he says with a shy smile.

“You’re drooling.”

Mortified, you briskly run the back of your hand against your mouth before sending a harsh glare. Lando snickers. “Would you please stop?”

His jaw drops, theatrically. “You’re not actually into him—are you?”

He says it with a trace of humor, but also shock, and you can't help but have your mouth run dry. A loose grin starts to expand across his lips as you hurriedly shake your head. “O-of course not. Are you crazy?”

But if anything, you feel crazy. You must be, right? With every passing second of your heart beating faster and faster against your chest simply just by looking at the young Australian, you’re sure you fall straight into the category like some love fool.

Lando squints his eyes. “I don’t know.” He leans in straight into your face, nearly hissing. “Am I?”

“Am I interrupting?” 

Flinching hard, you turn quickly to face Anastasia. You’d initially met the black haired girl back in 2019. As you started off as the Brits personal assistant, she took over as Carlos’ and later also Daniel’s. Over the course of time, you two came to be as close as sisters. 

“No! Not at all,” you squeak, nervously before pushing the McLaren driver away and patting towards the open chair next to you. She giggles, rolling her eyes and adjusting herself. “How was the flight over?”

A shrug. “As good as it can get. Sat next to a silver fox, so I guess that must count for something, no?” Lando shudders. She leans in closer, plopping her head against your shoulder. “What’d I miss?”

“Not much.” Only, that’s not true. She missed the way he laughed awkwardly when the doors wouldn’t slide open and let him into the headquarters. She missed the way he rolled his R’s a little too hard when saying ‘sorry’. She missed the way he grabbed the pen with a certain glow on his face, like he almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Lazy fingers pat her head gently once before sighing. “He seems nice.”

“How do you know?”

You know because of the way he talks to everyone. Like he cares about what they have to say. Whether it’s about how great his career is going to be here in McLaren or if they introduce their kids to him via FaceTime. He always wore the same smile, talked in the same warm tone. So, could your guess be far off? Yes. It could be completely far off. But you would bet money that it wasn’t. 

“Just a wild hypothesis.”

Her laugh isn’t too loud, not ridiculously so, at least, but the fact that it echoes is what makes it appear as such. Anastasia is quick to slap her hand over her mouth, the Brit turns fast to face her with panic evident in his eyes, and you simply blink with a shade of red slowly creeping towards your cheekbones. 

Zak grins. “You three.”

“Oh, we’re out,” Lando mumbles in monotone, already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the exit. You follow numbly, like you don’t have any strength left in your body. 

“You’re leaving me?” Anastasia hisses.

“She’s my assistant,” he says like a matter-of-fact. “Where I go, she goes.”

“Oh, you Judas—”

“All of you,” Zak clarifies, narrowing his eyes over to you and the Brit. You gulp.

With a soft curse, Anastasia stands up, tall and firm, and makes her way over with all the confidence in the world. You frown, craving to be the same way, even just a small percentage. Instead, you have to be forced by the McLaren driver. 

With every step, your head just spins faster because now, he’s more than real. You can smell his cologne. You can count all the moles that cover his face if you really wanted to. You can spot how his hair is still a bit wet, indicating an early shower. 

He’s just becoming— too real. 

“Lando, buddy, meet your new teammate!”

“Nice to meet you,” the blue eyed boy declares with a loopy grin, letting go of your hand in order to shake his. 

“Likewise.”

Zak claps once. “Oh! And meet your personal assistant, Anastasia.”

“Here for anything you might need,” she cheers with a bright smile.

“Fantastic.”

A wave of silence overlaps your four before Lando clears his throat. “And even though you might not be working with her one-on-one, this is my Anastasia.” A snicker. “My assistant, if you will.”

“Nice to meet you—”

“Nice to meet you—”

You both freeze, hands intertwined for a second longer before abruptly letting go. He lets out a dry laugh while you do the same. The way your skin tingles makes you blush. 

“This is fun and all, but we actually have somewhere to be,” the Brit claims with a suspicious look slashed across his usual laid back expression. You nod. “But we’ll see each other soon, man. Can’t wait to race together!”

In a flash, you two are out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Oscar blinking slowly.

-

“He fucks with you.”

“Excuse me?”

Another bench press. “As in, he likes you. He’s into you.”

You don’t dare ask who he is because you already know who the Brit’s referring to and that would only inflate your ego. Snapping your fingers, you narrow your eyes. “Focus. Two more sets left to go.” He groans, flipping you off.

It would be a lie to say that this didn’t make your self-esteem skyrocket. Could he be right? Could someone like Oscar ever lay eyes on you? Somewhere in your dreams, you’d like to say yes. Yes. That is a possibility. But the longer you think about it, the more unrealistic it gets.

You don’t have what others do. And that itself is enough to pop the bubble. 

-

The start of the season is always tough. 

“He’s extremely nervous.”

For some more than others.

You frown. “Really? But he’s usually so…relaxed.”

Anastasia shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder as she continues typing. “I mean, I tried talking to him but with everything I said, he’d just reply—'that's nice’. It was sarcastic, if anything. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel for him. Poor boy.” Her fingers freeze mid-air. “Wait—do you think you could talk to him?”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea—”

“Come on! Maybe it’ll help him ease his nerves!”

“Ana—”

“Please.”

You huff. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as you knock, you almost want to turn away. Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Plus, it’s not like he’s going to die from having butterflies in his stomach. Yeah, surely he’ll be fine and he doesn’t really even need you to—

“Come in.”

He wasn't expecting you, that much you can tell by the way his brows go up. But he’s quick to erase the confusion, settling with a fond expression. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you squeak before cringing at the sound. He chuckles, returning to his warm-up exercises. “How are you feeling?”

Another chuckle, this time amused. “Anastasia sent you, didn’t she?”

“What?” A beat. “No.”

He hums. “Tsk. I’m a bit nervous, that's all.”

You lick your lips, kicking your foot up against the doorframe. What could you possibly say that she hasn’t already? If she couldn’t ease him, then how can you? The thought of messing up and making it worse makes your stomach churn. 

“You’re going to do g—”

“Great?” He sighs, blowing his cheeks. “That’s exactly what she said.”

“And what’s wrong with it? She’s only trying to help.”

“No. I know she is, but…” He looks down onto his lap, pausing all movements. “Look, I appreciate you both. What you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t stand hearing what others think I want to hear.”

“It doesn’t do it for you?”

His eyes grow slightly wide with the way you go about and ask. He’s never seen you be anything other than sweet and reserved. But this—right now—is stern and very coach-like. Something and someone you aren’t. Not even close.

“It doesn’t,” he admits, finally looking away. “Never liked it. Always sounds too forced.”

You nod, crossing your arms. “Fine. I can tell you the truth. I can be truthful.” He perks. “Oscar, you’re a terrific driver.” He groans, covering his face with his hands. “But just because you’re great doesn’t mean you’ll be great all the time.” The Australian frowns, uncovering and looking up at you with attentive eyes. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to be second, or third, or sometimes even twentieth, but that doesn’t matter, you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you signed that contract, so you sort of have to suck it up, either way.” He lets out a loud laugh. Very unlike him. A weak smile threatens to fall as you try your best to push it back. “There’s going to be bad races, but there’s also going to be very good races. It all depends on you and how hard you work. Sometimes you’ll have a good car, a good strat, and others you’ll have a shitbox and a bad strat. That’s just the way this sport works, okay?”

Oscar blinks slowly, as if trying to decipher who you are, and that itself makes you dizzy. “I-I-I don’t care if you’re nervous, I don’t care if you’re sure—all we care is that you drive that car, and that you try your best no matter what. Can you do that?”

It’s foreign. The feeling in his chest. He’s not used to hearing any of this. As of recently, everyones been texting him to say how great he’s going to be. How far he’ll go. And while he was grateful for having unconditional support, he also dreaded hearing it sometimes because he doesn’t even want to picture letting any of  them down. He’ll act like he’s fine, he’ll act like he doesn’t care—but none of that would be true.

The brunette tilts his head to the side, slightly squinting. “I can. I can always try my best. Even if I fall short.”

“Good.” A beat. “We all believe in you. No matter what, okay?”

A timid smile. “I know…”

He ends up having to retire the car by lap fifteen, but the most astonishing part is that he’s not even upset. He tried his best. He listened to every single advice his engineer would alert him with. He practiced long hours in the stimulator.

This is just the way things go sometimes. Just like you said.

-

“I’m bored. Can I get a ten minute break or something?” Lando grimaces, rolling his wrist like it's the worst pain in the world. 

You hum, fixing the signed hats back into the box. With eyes screwed, you shrug. “Fine. But only ten! I’m serious. We need to have this done by one.”

“Yes! Ten—got it.”

He doesn’t come back in ten. For the matter, he actually goes missing. 

You narrow your eyes towards the clock, watching as it clicks like some mockery. You’re going to strangle him. You vow at that very moment that you’ll strangle the Brit as soon as you lay hands on him. With one final huff of desperation, you stand up, rubbing your eyes. People frolic through the paddock—you’re sure you even catch a glimpse of Lewis being papped—but that’s not what catches all of your attention. 

Instead, you find yourself leaning against the rail, squinting down to where the man of the hour sits, microphones huddled all around him like some interrogation. Anastasia smiles politely, back straight, and voice-recorder in hand. 

It’s faint—you almost can’t hear a thing—but it’s just enough. 

How does it feel to be back home? Enjoying it, no?

Oscar hums, straight brows slightly furrowed due to the bright sun, but just one adjustment of his hat makes that all go away. “Feels good. I’m able to sleep in my own bed, so that’s pretty cool. And yes. It may be a bit biased, but I am enjoying my time here more than the last two races.” Everyone chuckles. 

Can we talk about your expectations for this weekend? 

You can see him pause, and from where you’re standing, the way his fingers drum against his chair. “Well, I, uh…I hope for a good car.” The joke is supposed to be there, but you can tell everyone was expecting more with the way they murmur to one another. You wince.

Will raises the microphone up to his lips, along with his hand in order to catch the brunette’s attention. “I’m sure there’s been lots of people reaching out to you since this is your first home race, but has there been someone’s advice that has stuck like no other?”

Oscar smiles gently. “There has been, actually.”

You freeze, gripping the steel bar with anticipation. Your knuckles nearly feel like they’re about to snap, and you feel like you’re probably leaning a bit too far over the edge to hear it all, but you don’t even care. Will chuckles. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind sharing with us all? I’m sure it’ll help a lot of youngsters watching.”

Anastasia slides the recorder closer. Oscar visibly swallows. “I’m not sure I can. I never asked her for permission to talk about it. And quite frankly, I’d like to keep it between us.”

Will perks up. “Her?”

The black-haired girl is quick to whisper into his ear, turning the opposite way so no one can even attempt to read her lips. He nods, eyes trained forward like some guard. “Any more questions?” But everyone’s intrigued at this point, so all the questions that follow remain the same. Something that makes Anastasia panic and Oscar regret his choice of words. 

“Can we get a name?” some blurts out, nearly seeming desperate to get the inside scoop.

Only, his face remains still, jaw slacked. “No.”

Will raises his hand. “Very well, we don’t have any right to know, but are you willing to share a bit about what she said?”

And it’s almost as if the Australian can foresee that the only way to get out of this situation is by giving them what they want. Even if it’s a stupid little crumb. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She told me to try my best. That’s all I can really do.”

The mix of photographers and journalists deflate. “I-I’m sorry,” Lawrence Barretto slides in with a light tone and an ever lighter smile. “Don’t mean to lessen its meaning, but isn’t that a common thing to say? To hear?” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I just thought it’d be something a bit more…deep. Inspiring, perhaps.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re grateful to whatever God may exist that you’re not down there. On the other hand, Oscar is a bit bothered by the innocent comment, but then realizes he doesn't have to be. They weren’t there. They don’t know just how much more you said. How upfront you were with him without sounding condescending. Something most people did without even realizing. 

The brown eyed boy spares a smile. “Like I said—some things I’d like to keep between her and I. And even if it was just that, it’s the way she said it.” A beat. “It’s quite a lavish thing to have. A sincere person to talk to, I mean.”

Will tilts his head suspiciously. “It appears she might be someone special to you, yes?”

The Australian freezes at the unwanted interpretation. Suddenly, the atmosphere is far too crowded. He lets out a forced chuckle, rolling his neck before messaging it gently. “Well, yes. I’d agree.” 

A mix of giddiness and shock rushes through your veins as you refrain yourself from jumping up and down with excitement. 

“You’d be lucky if you had her as a friend too.”

-

“Is everything okay?”

Biting down on the churro he had gifted you as an apology for not getting back on time, you growl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Lando raises a thick brow. “Dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re moping.”

Your jaw goes slack, immediately turning to face him. “I am not moping.”

The sound he lets out indicates he doesn’t quite believe you, but is choosing to let it go. Also, he doesn’t want to see your patience run out, too scared of what you might do. The curly haired driver plops down onto his bed that stands in his motorhome, closing his eyes. You nearly envy the indifference in him. The lack of worry. 

“I can hear your teeth clenching. Gross.”

A grunt. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Need anything?”

“Only a nap. It’s a good thing you’ll be gone.” He turns over to his side, bringing your jacket over his face to block out any light. You bite the air, swinging silently for a minute or two before exiting the cramped room. 

The sun hurts, you remember thinking, but the upcoming migraine you’re getting is even worse. You should be used to this by now, given you’ve suffered from them since elementary, but based on the way you zig zag without meaning to is enough proof to know that you’re not. Everyone's voices are suddenly muffled, even the sound of engines roaring is as soft as a feather. You wince, massaging your temples as if that might help. 

Woah, are you feeling alright? 

“I’m fine,” you respond meekly, to who even knows. You wave them off rudely. “I’ll be fine. Just. Leave me alone.” 

Anastasia frowns, all while fanning your face. “No. You need to lay down.” She nudges the Australian, who up until now, you had no clue he had his arm clung around your waist. If you weren’t too busy feeling like shit, you’d definitely be making a fool out of yourself. Her green eyes fill up with worry. “I’m gonna go look for a paramedic.”

“You’re doing too much,” you slur, body letting loose and making the brunette shriek as he grips you harder, trying to keep you upright. 

A deadpan expression. “Oscar, take her back to your motorhome and have her lay down.”

He nods, hesitantly. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Once she runs off like a headless chicken, you let out a dramatic gag. Sharp brows knit together with horror. “Do I smell bad?”

A giggle. “No. As a matter of fact, you smell rich.”

With his arm still wrapped around you securely, and warm eyes flickering from to you back to see where he’s heading, he grins, eyes crinkling. “Rich? That just so happens to have a scent?”

You purse your lips, wincing at the fact that your peripheral vision has gone completely dark. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m a terrific liar and I’m only stroking your ego for my benefit.”

Another chuckle. “Benefit? What benefit may that be?”

Tsk. “How else am I gonna get you to take me to bed?”

The Australian instantly chokes hard on a string of his own saliva, causing you to flinch at the loud sound. Loud to you, at least. He apologizes, but not before taking a glance down, like it’s the first time meeting you. 

As soon as you lay down on the miniature mattress, you release a groan. Even just having your eyes closed makes you dizzy. You let out a loud groan, kicking your feet against the cushion in desperation.

“That bad?”

“That annoying.”

And even though you can’t see him, he nods, internally freaking out, trying to think of ways to help. “Does this happen to you often?”

“Yes.”

He nods, sheepishly. “W-what do you normally do? You know? To help?”

Tossing over to lay on your side, you pinch your eyes, grinding your molars. For a minute, you sort of thought your teeth might crack. Everything about this situation was becoming unbearable. “My mom, she, um…she’d normally braid my hair. It helped sometimes. Others it didn’t.” Messy hair dangles over your face as you let you out a loud exhale, as if you were in the middle of releasing some demon. “I moved too much, she said.”

Oscar smiles, coming across like a faint memory locked in the back of your mind. “I-I-I can try…” Loopy eyes flicker up to face him, and he’s quick to scrunch his nose. The sight alone makes you breathe easier, though he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. “Only if you want me to…”

“You know how?”

“Sort of? When I was younger, I used to sit across from my sisters at the breakfast table. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”

The subtle proud smile makes your heart beat flutter, smitten at the insight to his childhood. You wish you knew more. Like what was his favorite show? Did he have any imaginary friends, just like you did? Or maybe his favorite superhero? But you swallow all those questions down your throat as soon as he kneels down next to you. The whiff of soft musk distinctively adds to your headache, but you’re too focused on him for something as dumb as that to matter. 

“Just…close your eyes.”

Taking one last glance at him, you comply, lashes fanning slowly before going completely dark. You can still hear him adjusting, you can feel him take your hair into his hands, but nothing makes you stop breathing like his touch that grazes your cheek. 

It’s almost ghostlike—doesn’t really stay on the same spot for too long—but you know it’s real. Long fingers calmly push strands of hair behind your ear, tranquility expanding over your body. The slight tickle it causes helps ease your pounding migraine, little by little. 

“Are my hands too cold?” he whispers, not trying to intrude, but at the same time, wanting to know. You twist, bottom lip jutting out. Not at all. Keep going. And he does. He ends up tangling your hair a bit, because as it turns out, he doesn’t remember much, but he’s sure to delicately fix his mess, brows drawn in with heavy concentration. 

As soon as your hair is back to flowing free, he relaxes, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. Your hair feels soft. Just what he would imagine a cloud would feel like. For a second, he begins to wonder, who’s this really for? He feels like this might be soothing him more than you. 

Just then, his finger catches on a knot, and he freezes, stopping all movements. “Holy crap, I am so sorry, I—”

You let out a low whimper, but don’t do so much as bat an eye. You’re sound asleep. The brunette lets out a breath of relief, falling back to sit on the ground. 

Your face is a bit squashed—and you’re drooling just a tad bit—but for some odd reason, he finds himself admiring. You’re full lips. You’re lashes. God, even the way you breathe. He feels a tender smile itching, but it never truly gets to see the light of day, because before he knows it, the door is swung wide open. 

Anastasia stops dead in her tracks. “What happe—is she asleep?”

Oscar opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. He does this a couple of times, awkwardly turning to face you and his assistant, back and forth, back and forth. “She, um…just did. A minute ago.”

She pouts, scratching her head. “Weird. Usually when this happens it prolongs for at least ten minutes before it gets any better.” The green eyed girl sheepishly waves the group of paramedics away. A trail of sighs echo as they turn away. As soon as they’re gone, she gently shuts the door, then tippy toes towards the edge of the small bed. Neat brows furrow. “At least she’s feeling better, no?”

Brown eyes follow her gaze. “Yeah. At least.”

-

Lando ends up throwing—and according to him— “The World’s Coolest Jamboree”. You beg for him to call it anything but jamboree, but he’s too attached to it by the time he sends the last text invite, which so happens to be to the rookie driver. 

“Has anyone RSVPed?” you question over his shoulder. He’s in the middle of mixing some mysterious liquid, but by the looks of it, doesn’t look any good. You grimace. 

He lets out a bleh before dropping his utensils. “No one RSVPs these days. They either show up, or they don’t.” 

A slow nod. “So, you don’t know who’s coming?”

“Not a clue. But most likely everyone.”

You scoff. “How are you so sure?”

He gives you an ‘are you kidding me?’ type glare before sending a sly grin. “First of all, it’s my party. They’d be crazy to miss out. And second of all…it’s only the biggest, funnest, coolest jamboree!”

“Funnest is not a word.”

“And party-poopers aren’t welcomed.” You gasp, smacking his chest harshly. He lets out a snicker, picking up a bag of ice and spilling it into the glass bowl. “But I’ll make an exception. Just this once.”

“Just this once,” you mimic before dipping your pinky in. He instantly slaps your hand away. Smacking your lips, you let out a yelp at the bitter taste. “This tastes like ass. God—not even Daniel will drink this, and that guy drinks anything in his way. I’m surprised he hasn’t been accidentally roofied.”

Lando claps his hands with amusement. “God forbid. And please, pay your respect to Lando’s Best Worst Decision.” A beat. “™.” 

“™?” you deadpan. “What? Are you planning on adding a trademark to this sewage water?”

“It’s good, okay?” Mixing the clear liquid once more, he smiles fondly down at it. “And maybe. I’m seriously considering it.”

You sneer, already walking away.

He ends up being right. Not even an hour later, the party is in full swing. Sure, a couple drivers aren’t able to make it, but it’s still jammed packed. It's honestly a miracle to get through the Monaco flat. 

You’re still sober?

Laughing, you nod, raising your water up in the air like some toast. Daniel frowns. “Considering I have to make sure my number one client doesn’t make any bad choices tonight, then nope. Can’t have a sip of alcohol.” 

Brown eyes flutter slowly. “I’m sure there’s other beverage choices. Have you tried Lando’s Best Worst Decision?” He leans in, winking. “™.”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me you actually like it?” He shrugs and you shudder in disgust. “I’m sure I saw him add ten energy shots and God knows what else.”

“No wonder I feel kinda funky.” Your face drops. “Hey, if you pass out, can I crash tonight?”

“Daniel!” you groan, covering your face. “I swear, I’m going to spill that stupid drin—” Only, Daniel is gone. Craning your head, you circle the room. From where you stand, you’re able to see Carlos and Lando taking part in a heated round of pool, all while Charles sways back and forth, infamous red cup in hand.

Marching over to the kitchen island, you pick up the glass bowl and carry it over to the sink before tipping it over. You huff, hair fanning across your nose. 

“Stupid, stupid boys—”

“Hey.”

You shriek, dropping the bowl, and wincing at the sound of glass shattering. 

Oscar grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?”

“No.” You sigh. “Lando’s gonna kill me.”

Grabbing the nearby broom, the Australian sweeps carefully while knitting his brows. “Why?”

“It’s a family heirloom.”

“A glass bowl?”

You giggle. “I wonder why too.”

Despite the blaring music, and constant chattering, the room feels rather silent. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, and that seems to catch his eye as it dawns on him that he hasn’t really seen you in anything other than your usual uniform. To be fair, you could say the same. He likes it. 

You clear your throat. “Halfway done. How do you feel?”

He sips on his water, jaw clicking before settling with a sharp tsk. “Good. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. Anastasia even congratulated me the other day when I diverted a series of questions with ease.”

Impressed, you raise your brows. “Bravo. Wish that was the case with Lando. I swear, sometimes I think he does and says things to make me look bad on purpose.”

“He should stop,” he says with a goofy smile. “Does he not know how lucky he is to get to call you his assistant?”

You blush. “Best friend, actually. I’ve been promoted ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend last New Year's Eve.”

The brunette inches forward with curiosity. “Wish to clarify?”

You hop onto the island, fixing your dress and crossing your legs. “Don’t tell him that I told you any of this, but I secretly think he was embarrassed of not having a midnight’s kiss. Especially since his ex was there with her new boyfriend. Talk about the unexpected.”

His chest tightens. “You two, um…kissed, then?”

“Yes,” you confirm with a childlike grin, and for some reason, it makes him want to puke. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about this in forever!”

He pretends to find interest in the crowded room, but really, it all remains on you. “Was it any good?”

You blush this time and he swears he’s close to walking away. “Yes and no. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t feel right.”

He perks up then, floppy hair bouncing at the sudden speed. “Really?” He coughs, then fixes his watch, training his eyes towards the floor. “Erm, I mean, is that so?”

A nose scrunch. “It felt like kissing someone you’re not supposed to. Which I suppose is true. We’re better off as friends.” He relaxes. “Thinking about it, we might’ve gagged each other's mouths.” You grimace. “If that doesn't show our discomfort, then I don’t know what will.”

“Good to know.” Oscar rubs his arm, up and down, then steps closer to you. You blink. “Hey, I was meaning to ask—”

Strippers? I didn’t order any strippers. 

Hire, a male voice interjects. He means to say he didn’t—hire—any strippers. 

“Son of a…” You wince apologetically, to which he shrugs. Don’t worry. Go. Biting your lip, you nod, rushing to the living room, where Lando, Daniel, and a bunch of other randoms circle the almost nude girls with long legs. 

“I mean, I won’t turn you away, ladies,” the Brit mumbled, already wrapping his arms around their waists. They all giggle, inching closer until he’s a blushing mess. 

You snap your fingers, pointing towards the exit. “All of you need to leave.”

Is that your sister? the one with a cowboy hat whispers into his ear. He quickly shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you like a deadly weapon. 

“No. That’s his girlfriend,” Daniel yodels, face pressed up against the couch, admiring the group of girls. “But they’re in an open relationship.”

“I’m not his girlfriend—”

“She’s not my girlfriend—”

Oscar’s jaw clenches, eyes focused on the entire commotion. The older Australian rolls his eyes. “Right. We don’t talk about it.”

“Would you stop trying to help?” you shoot back, sarcastically, and clap your hands as if you’re rounding up a new high school cheer. “I need you all out. You want money? Fine. He’ll give you money,” you declare, signaling towards Lando. 

“Hey,” he groans, instantly letting go and stepping closer to you. “They haven’t even done anything to earn it….”

Your eye twitches. “I swear to God—”

“Deal,” the redhead shoots out. “But we need a moment to come to an agreement. You know? On how much we want to ask for.”

“Perfect,” you chirp, rolling your heels. “Take out your wallet, Big Boy.”

“You used to be fun.”

“And you used to be terrified over a pair of tits when I first met you. Whatever happened?” Lando blushes profoundly before pushing you away. “Want them gone, Lando, gone!”

“Yes! Jesus Christ—let me deal with this.”

“I’m done,” you promise with your hands raised up in surrender. “But just remember what happened last time.” He frowns, cocking his head to the side. You wiggle your brows. “São Paulo.” 

Color drains his face before letting out an unhinged laugh and motioning you away. You giggle, heading back to where Oscar stands. 

“I see what you mean,” he announces. What? “How he can have a bit of a headache.” 

“See! I told you! Four years of this!” A dramatic yawn. “I’m tired.” 

A string of boo’s follow once the strippers prance out the door, waving all their money in the air. Specifically Daniel, who genuinely looks upset to see them go. Oscar leans down against the counter, the proximity between you becoming smaller. “You should get some rest, then.” But he selfishly doesn’t  mean it. He wants you to stay—to keep talking to him. 

You let out a snort, grabbing your sides. “I mean, I'm tired of being Lando’s assistant. It’s a full time job, y’know?”

“Oh.” He stands up straight again. “Right. Of course.”

You purse your lips, looking down to your shoes. “But that was actually quite thoughtful.”

She thinks I’m thoughtful, he internally swoons because that must be a good sign, right? Not everyone is thoughtful, but he is, and that must count for something. Gathering all the strength he has left—which is not much considering you blink up at him like some angel—he licks his pink lips. “Back to what I was going to say earlier before you left—”

“I wasn’t trying to step on him! I already said I was sorry!” you hear a familiar voice, instantly turning to find Anastasia kicking Daniel’s face back into place, well, since he now lays asleep on the floor. You curse beneath your breath, jumping off the island once again. 

“His head did a complete 360!” Yuki accuses, clearly panicked. “That's not normal, is it?”

“No, it is,” Pierre replies with a bored tone. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

Crouching down next to the curly haired driver, you jab his cheek before motioning Oscar and Anastasia closer. “Help me carry him to the guest room,” you instruct, already taking off your cardigan. 

The black haired girl is quick on her feet, grabbing the Australians right leg as you grab the left. Oscar, however, swallows hard at the amount of cleavage you’re suddenly displaying, but instantly snaps out of it when both you and Anastasia blink back at him. He picks up the Alpha Tauri driver’s upper body before puffing. 

You blush bright pink at the sight of his muscles pulsing against his t-shirt. “I-It’s just around the corner.” 

As soon as you make it into the room, you three carefully place Daniel onto the bed, to which he squirms before flipping over and snoring away. You motion a finger over your lips before pushing them both out. Gently closing the door behind you,you let out a breath of relief. 

Anastasia lets out a whistle. “Surprisingly not that heavy.”

Oscar scoffs. “Easy for you to say. I had to carry most of his weight.” 

She shrugs, hugging you hello and apologizing for being so late, and you’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine, though she missed the chance to see strippers give Lando a tough time. She sneers. “I didn’t even know there existed strippers in Monaco.” And then she’s off, clapping loudly at the sight of Lando giving out a round of jello shots. You sigh, rubbing your temples.

“I-I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”

He freezes. “Oh. Just that—” He panics. “Only that I like your shoes!”

You blink, deflating from within. But you try to cover it up with a soft smile. “Thanks, I guess?” Orbs flicker down toward your white Sambas. “Lando says they are overrated, but I like ‘em.”

He nods. “Yeah. I like them too.”

-

It happens one Friday afternoon—the decision. 

You’re in between races, you’re in between headaches, and you’re ready to self-implode. So, before any of that happens, you make your first decision. To go on a walk. 

It’s getting rather chilly these days, something you love, but also hate. You love it because there is a certain coziness that comes along with it, but you also hate it because you can’t always be cozy, so you’re left shivering. Much like now. But to be fair, this was your own choosing. 

The pounding that takes over your head lessens the longer you stroll, the longer you breathe actual fresh air. You don’t really think much, you mainly remain blank, but the sound of tires screeching rips you away. Squinting hard, you catch a glimpse of a lady with grocery bags flipping off the fellow driver, who shares nothing but an apologetic smile before driving off. 

“What happened? Do I have something on my face?”

Dusting your nose, then your cheek, you blush faintly. You instantly assume it’s the powdered donuts fault—the one you had gobbled up in a hurry during the drive back to the paddock. It was an early morning, and no one really made it on time when it came to early days, but you always did. And so did Oscar. So, a sleepy Zak gave you a wad of cash, and sent you two to the nearest donut shop. 

The Australian shakes his head, blinking straight ahead. “N-no, I was just checking my blind spot.”

That only makes you blush harder because in what crazy world would he be looking at you? 

A single nod. The car is quiet apart from the sound of his hands moving against the steering wheel, and the sound of the blinker clicking. It’s gloomy, too. You clear your throat. “I love it when it rains.” He hums, calmly, encouraging you to continue. “It just makes me happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You purse your lips. “I sort of wish I were home. That way I can snuggle near the window and fall asleep to the sound of light drizzle.”

The brunette quirks a brow towards the road. “That sounds nice. Like…really nice.” A pause. “Why can’t you do that here, though?”

Here—here means where you are right now. Here means this place that’s not home. Here is not close to being enough, but he doesn’t figure that one out. You blink, dragging your finger along the pink box sitting on your lap. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” A small shrug. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? There’s always something missing.”

He doesn’t waste a moment in asking. “What do you think that is?”

Taken aback by his inquiry, you let yourself surmise for a second or two before licking your lips. “Maybe a pup. To keep me company”

He semi-frowns, cocking his head to send you a deadpan expression. “A dog?”

Now it’s your turn to frown, sending him a glare. “What were you thinking?”

The red light lets him take focus on you. “Dunno. A boyfriend, maybe?”

You’re sure you’re nearly as tomato red as the light staring at you both. “What? You instantly just assume I don't have one already?”

He freezes. “Well, I, um…t-that’s not what I meant—”

“Look, I know I’m not a guys’ typical ‘dream girl’, but sheesh I’m not that unlovable. At least, I hope not, but now you’re making me second guess. I mean, your opinion must indicate everyone sees me as some sort of lonely widow.”

Oscar shakes his head, adamantly. “I don’t see you as such.” A slow pause. “A lonely widow, I mean. I find your words to not be all that true, really. You’re nice. You’re persevering, You’re beautiful. And you have a good heart.” The light translates back to green, and you’re freakishly thankful, that way he can’t see you burn up. “You could easily be anyone's dream. Whoever makes you think otherwise is a phony.”

It’s getting harder not to laugh—most likely out of skeptic shock—but you refrain. He’s simply being kind with you, but that doesn’t stop you from nearly going into cardiac arrest. His words should have been labeled with a warning. 

“Guess this world is filled with lots of phonies.”

He scoffs. “There shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to a girl like you.”

Your breath catches. “Os—”

All of a sudden, the car comes to a harsh stop, sending you flying, but not the Australian, who remains sitting up straight. An older man flips him off before riding off on his bike. You both breath hard, turning to face each other. 

“Are you okay?” he questions, voice laced with worry. 

You nod, slightly dazed. “I, um—yeah. Are you?”

A nod. “I didn’t even see where he came from.”

A weak laugh finally erupts. “Blame it on the poor innocent man— clever.”

Brown eyes soften. They flicker from your orbs back to your pouty lips. He’s only checking if you’re okay, of course. You send him a reassuring bow and he releases a heavy breath. 

“Guess I was too focused on my blind spot, once again.”

The next decision comes when you opt in to join your neighbor, Mr. Lennon, for a cup of tea after he finds you shivering. By that time, it’s raining hard, you're soaking wet, and it only makes sense to accept his kind offer. 

“Mint. To hopefully push back any upcoming cold. God, what were you thinking?”

You let out a laugh. “Not much. That’s why I was aimlessly roaming.”

“What about now?”

You halt, mug raised up to your chapped lips. “What about now?”

He smiles, softly, mixing his own tea with a heavy spoon of honey. “Did the walk help? Were you able to get the wheels rolling?”

Now you giggle loudly. “That’s not very nice! The wheels are working just fine, thank you very much.”

The light scent of pine trees enter the room as soon as he stands up to open his window, the sound of soft rain singing to you as some much needed therapy. “So? What were you pondering about out there?”

“I wasn’t pondering.”

“Walking alone in the middle of a thunderstorm?” A sore laugh. “Been there. Done that. There’s always something on someone’s mind when that happens. Which isn’t often, or usual, so that must mean you’re really stuck up on something.”

“Or someone,” you mumble beneath your breath. His brows dart up, and you sheepishly settle the mug down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

You blink. You don’t really talk about him out loud. Not with Lando. Not with Anastasia. Not even with your own reflection. Everything has always remained with you. A place you knew to be safe because you made it safe. But Mr. Lennon’s eyes prove to you that he’s lived enough lives—enough scenarios—to maybe understand. Even just a fraction. He watches you visibly gulp. And he knows that look. The confusion, the yearning. 

“I’m in love with this boy.”

He hums, leaning back against his wooden chair. “There’s always a boy.”

You look down. “He’s a friend of mine, which makes everything much worse because I can’t ruin that. But for the first time in all my years of living…” Round, glossy eyes stare back at him with a hopeless expression. “I really—really—want to.”

He’s attentive, he listens like some frozen statue, and maybe that’s what fuels your courage to continue speaking. “My entire life, I’ve had crushes, sure, but I’ve never loved someone. Not seriously. So, of course I’m caught off guard when I do feel that for someone who I’m not even in a relationship with.” A playful snort. “God, I feel so stupid.”

The silence that lingers is comforting. Your nerves flow away with the rain, and you feel at peace. Quietly, he clears his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”

A soft sigh. “I’m all ears.”

Gray brows furrow as if trying to recover a distant memory. “I once loved a boy, too.” Your eyes widen. Sure, you knew he was never married, never even had a kid, but you never thought of any reason as to why not. He nods, faintly. “Not many know, and not because I’m ashamed, not by any means…” A single beat. “But because real, sincere feelings are easier to ignore. Because who wants to deal with reality, right? Who wants to confess and be turned away like some dog at your door?”

Exactly, you think, nodding along. “Everyone is always going to be scared of something, but avoidant people like us are terrified about the what-ifs.” He sends a wink. “And I’m living proof that being that way won’t get you nowhere. And you'll realize sooner or later in life that you’d rather be nowhere with someone you love, than nowhere…” His eyes circle the nearly empty kitchen, despite living there for the past twenty years. “...all alone.”

Your chin wobbles. “You know you have me, right? I’m always next door.” A wet laugh follows. “Anyways, I might even join you in this lonely life, eh? Doesn’t sound half bad if I’m doing it with you.”

Tender eyes close slowly before blinking back at you. “No. I want you to be the complete opposite from me. Be different. Tell him how you feel. Even if it costs you a broken heart, tell him. Because I’m telling you right now that a broken heart is always better than the constant desire that will always follow you like the devil.”

A warm droplet rolls down your cheek as you sheepishly laugh, but he doesn’t judge. He never has. Instead, ever the true gentleman, he hands you his handkerchief. “Did you ever get the chance to tell him that you…”

His wrinkles imprint more vividly as he breathes out. “I did, but it didn’t really make the difference I had hoped for. He was already married to someone else.”

A loud sob escapes. “That’s not f-fair. You deserve to be happy with the man you love.”

“I do. But you know what?” You rub the tears away, eyes connecting. “I’ve made peace with the consequences of my own actions.”

By now the rain has died down, and so have you. With one last smile, Mr. Lennon gives your cold hand a soft squeeze.   

“Learn from my mistakes, won’t you?”

-

That same night, as you cried over a bottle of wine, you made your third and final decision. And you would execute it all the next time you saw him, no matter the outcome. 

But now that you spoke about it once to someone, you felt almost invincible. Which is why you called Lando. 

You what? 

A wince. “You can’t tell him, okay? I’m legitimately trusting you with this!” He opens his mouth, but you’re quick to signal him off. “Including Ana.”

“Wow. I thought she’d know.” You shrug because you don’t really have an explanation for not having had confided in her, but you know deep down that you’re not really into playing a game of Cupid, and that’s exactly what she'd turn this into. The Brit nods, sympathetically. “Alright. I won’t tell a single soul.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”

His question comes out hesitant—like he’s afraid of scaring you away from the possibility—but it doesn’t. Instead, you nod, to which he’s extra surprised because you’ve never been the kind to. “That’s the main reason I told you any of this. Because I wanted to ask you if you knew if he has a girlfriend or not? Someone he’s trying to pursue? I’d hate to…intervene.”

Lando let’s put a soft smile, dimples imprinting neatly onto his face. “I mean, he’s particularly private—you know him—but I’ve never heard him mention having a girl. It doesn’t seem like he does. Go for it. What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? A good friend?”

Silently, he grimaces because even he can see how much this all means to you—how much you’re scared. So, to boost up your confidence—which is something he definitely doesn’t lack—he flashes a loopy grin. “He probably likes you, anyways.”

You come to a fast halt. Suddenly, painting your nails isn’t your top priority. “Really? You think so?” He nods, and you can’t help but smile back. “What’d he say?”

“Well, as I already stated before, he keeps his things locked up pretty well. But I do recall one time…” He closes his eyes harshly. Then, he snaps his fingers loudly. “I believe in Hungary. He was on a high. And we shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate. So, he sort of let loose. Like insanely loose.”

“And?” you push, eagerly trying to get whatever he has stuck in his throat out of him. The green eyed boy snickers. 

“He wasn’t very clear, but he did say he had a crush on a girl. Someone he really wanted to get to know. But that  things were a little bit difficult.” You nod, urging him to continue. “I asked why, and he said it was because she had a good heart, or something of that sort? Good intentions? Can’t remember—and that he didn’t want to ruin it.”

Your breath hitches.

And you have a good heart. You could easily be anyone’s dream. 

-

Ironically, you’re huddled in Lando’s flat once again when it happens. Well. Almost happens. It’s filled with a few McLaren members because he insisted on hosting a nice brunch. And it was. Nice, you mean. 

“Pretty,” Anastasia says, sending a soft smack towards your ass. You yelp, swatting her hand away, and pulling your skirt downward. She snickers. “You should tie your hair up more often. Let’s everyone admire such an angel face.”

“Stop it,” you hiss, but can’t hide the pink flush. “But thank you.” 

She grins, eyes crinkling. Black hair sways as she moves to the beat of the music, nursing her drink. “Nice to have a break…”

“Definitely.”

At some point, she slithers away, leaving you all alone on the balcony. Which was quite lonesome until he came along. Oscar scrunched his nose, meekly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Don’t own this place, do I?”

He lets off a raw chuckle. Deeper than when you first met him, and you come to the realization that a lot about him has changed. His hair is longer, his neck is thicker, and his shoulders are wider. But his smile and eyes remain the same. Boyish.

“Thinking?”

You sigh, admiring the ocean set out right in front of you. “Thinking, yes. A lot these days.”

And if he’s patient enough, he’d notice the way your hands shake. Tiny vibrates, but still.. He’d notice the way you bite down on your lip, brushing it along the way. He’d notice the way you blink feverishly, like even the wind hurts. 

And he is. He is a patient person. So, he does notice. 

“Do you know what song this is?”

Brows furrow, deep in thought. And he’s quick to note that the ticks you had are coming to an easy halt. Mentally, though, you’re cursing yourself out because you do know. You do know the song that flows nicely into your ears, but simply having him next to you is what’s making you forget. How dare me have that kind of power over you?

“I know it,” you start. “But I can’t seem to remember right now...”

The brunette gently nods his head along to the beat. His eyes close, and his hair delicately tussles, and suddenly he’s the only thing you see. “Sex,” he says. You blush, ripping your gaze away before he catches you in the act. Oscar laughs. “It’s Sex by The 1975. How could I forget?”

“Oh yeah.”

The guitar screeches when the volume somehow gets louder, despite not being inside. “Would have killed me not to get it right. My sister listens to it all the time.”

Plump lips pressed together. “You have a sister?” But you know the answer to that question, of course you do. You’re a girl. You’ve done your research, even when you pinched yourself not to. 

He nods. “Three, actually. Talk about a headache, am I right?”

And it’s almost nostalgic—your laugh. Like it might be one he heard in his past life, but in his current one, can't remember. But it’s okay if he doesn’t because at least he knows he can learn it. And he has. 

“You look really pretty when you laugh that way. Insanely so.”

You can’t seem to register his words. The way they come off as soft and ginger as they could possibly get. As if he really means it. And for the first time since your first interaction with him almost two years ago—you sort of believe he might. 

“You’re just saying that?” you question as some test, does eyes challenging him into finally spitting out the truth. The same truth you carry. He shakes his head, taking a step closer.

“I mean it.” 

Like a sudden magnet, you two are hesitantly connecting closer and closer together before either of you could stop it. Not that either of you would. The Australian towers over you, almost caging you like some endangered species he’s afraid of slipping away and going extinct. 

You swallow, lashes fluttering, and he smiles at the sight—melts. You’ve always been reserved. Quiet. Shy. And so has he, so he can’t really judge you, but he’s willing to be different—just once in his life—to get what he’s been wanting for a long time now. 

His eyes follow your lips. Admires how plump they are. How they’re the perfect shade of pink. So, when he leans in and you don’t pull away? He thinks he might explode with the need to kiss you. One time. If he’s lucky, just—once. 

“You’ve always been my dre—”

“There you two are!” Anastasia cheers, zigzagging to you both as an apologetic Lando follows right after. By now, Oscar has jumped far away from you, and you’re left feeling empty and lost, blinking at an alarming rate. “We’ve been looking all over!” A hiccup. “What were you doing?” Your lips remain open but Oscar is the first to let out an awkward cough.

“We were just talking about…logistics!” He turns to you, sparing you a pleading look. “W-weren’t we?”

You finally come to, nodding slowly, eyes buzzing between the two McLaren drivers and your best friend, who wobbles from left to right. “Yeah, I….we—logistics, and whatnot.” A beat. “Doesn’t matter.”

He flinches, avoiding your doleful stare. Oscar forces such a bright smile—the kind that can’t go unnoticed by even the biggest idiot on earth—and nods in agreement. “She’s right. It doesn’t matter.”

Lando analyzes you, then his teammate, and wishes he had done more to keep Anastasia from barging in. But really, was this some sign? Maybe you were some delusional little girl who truly believed she had a chance with the boy next door. The one everyone wants, but only one will get to have.

And let’s face it. 

It was never going to be you.

-

You’d make an excellent detective in your next life, you’re sure of it. But for now, you’re just some brokenhearted assistant who mourns the death of her what-ifs. Someone who is really good at picking up on clues. 

It’s right before Christmas—right before Anastasia’s birthday party—and you’re curling your hair quite poorly. You daze off every now and then, you apply mascara almost zombie-like, and you’re dreading even showing up. Have you been avoiding him? Yes. Yes, you have. Have you been good at it? Only the best, if we’re being truthful here. And were you ready to face him without feeling the need to bolt? 

Nope. Not in this lifetime nor the next.

But still, you force yourself to finish getting ready because this isn’t about you. This isn’t about him. It’s about being there for your friend. 

Mindlessly, on the drive there, pouting in the back of the yellow cab, you click onto Instagram and the first thing you do is smile at the birthday post Anastasia had posted not even five minutes ago. You scroll, smile wider, and then come to a harsh pause. The kind that makes your throat close up. The kind that makes you stop breathing. 

The kind that lets you know—

You’ve lost.

His arms are tied around her waist, his head nuzzles between her neck, but you can still tell it’s him. His hazel hair can’t go unnoticed. Maybe to someone else, but not you. 

Then, as if all odds are against you, your feed refreshes and you’re left far more dumbfounded. 

She appears in most of his pictures because why not? It’s his girlfriend's birthday, it goes as expected. Museum dates. Pictures of them with each other's families. And you feel greedy like never before because—why couldn't that be you? 

Venmo or cash? You look up, making eye contact with your taxi driver who looks as tired as you are. You press your lips together into a fine line. Digging into your purse, you grab all that you have and jump out of the cab. 

It’s chilly out and the lights are beautifully hung, but it doesn’t do you any good. You just want to go home. Curl up in bed and die. Dig a hole—self-suffocate—who cares. And you’re ready to turn around, go back and apologize to Mr. Lennon for not doing better. You really thought you had it in you, but it just wasn’t enough. 

But then, the door swings open and Pierre curls a brow. Kika waves from behind “He thought you were some serial killer. He’s been watching too much Dateline.” The brunette scurries over, throwing her arms around you and takes a step back. “Come in before you freeze to death.”

But even that didn’t sound too bad. You sheepishly thank her, following the couple back in. A string of jazz cradles the warm lit living room and the scent of apple pie makes you inhale sharply. A giggle stirs up behind you. Anastasia grins.

“You’re here!”

All of a sudden, you hate her smile. You hate her laugh. You hate her entirely. But you also don’t. You can’t hate her smile. You can’t hate her laugh. You can’t hate her entirely. Because even though you feel like she owes you loyalty, that’s not really true. She had zero idea about your feelings towards Oscar and she won. Fair and square. That doesn’t mean you had to like it.

“Happy birthday, Annie.” Hugging her, you giggle against her ear when she jumps up and down, nearly knocking you two over. “For you. From me.”

She wiggles her neat brows, green eyes buzzing with suspicion. “Is it a vibrator again?”

You blush. “No. Even better.”

“Wow! Even better?” She rips the small bag open, eyes widened double in their size. “Oh my God, you got me the Mary Jane’s I wanted?”

“Well, you kept bugging me, and so I thought—”

“D'accord, je comprends. I love them, thank you.” Grabbing your wrist, she tugged you into the empty hallway, and you can already feel her buzzing with excitement. Your stomach churns. “I wanted to tell you as soon as he asked me out—I really did—but he insisted on keeping it between us two for a while, and I told him no, I had to tell you, but then I understood that maybe it was for the best, and I’ve always liked him—”

Every word makes you feel smaller and smaller because the light in her eyes gives it all away. She, too—much like you—is in love with Oscar Piastri. You shake your head, sharing a light laugh. “I totally get it. There’s no need to explain.” 

The green eyed girl visibly relaxes, shoulders rolling back. “I knew you’d understand. Oscar was right—you have a good heart.”

Ana, Yuki just spilled wine on your coach, Daniel rattles from the other side of the room, pointing accusingly towards his teammate who rubs the cushion with his Dior sweatshirt. She sighs. Be right back!

At that moment, you don’t care if you wind up with a deadly case of hypothermia, you simply walk out of the warm house.

“What are you doing? You’re going to get sick.”

Screwing your eyes shut seems to be the only answer to help your mending heart into not breaking completely. And fuck him—fuck him for sounding so goddamn caring. 

You turn with a soft smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Won’t really make a difference, I already feel sick.” You cough for emphasis. “See?” Oscar rolls his eyes, ignoring the poor excuse, and hands you his puffer jacket. You shake your head. Take it. “No.” He frowns. Why not? Rocks crunch with every step he takes. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“What? Borrowing a jacket from a friend?”

“Borrowing my best friend's boyfriend’s jacket.”

His stomach drops, rolling with a wave of anxiety as he tries to not show his uncomfort. “She told you?”

Your teeth grind harder. “That, and you both posted about a thousand pictures together. Wasn’t that difficult to understand what was going on.” A sore laugh. “I’m happy for you two, though. Really. I am.”

“You are?”

Sending a nasty glare that you tried to keep in for the life in you, you turn over to face him, nose rosy. “Yes. Over the fucking moon.”

He flinches. “Listen, about that day at Lando’s house. I-I-I was caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have said what I said, o-or tried to kiss you—”

“You’re a phony, you know that, right?”

Another flinch. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I feel bad, okay?”

Tears well up inside your eyes. Somewhere deep inside your chest, you feel a harsh sting, and still that doesn’t compare to his pity. You let out a scoff, crossing your arms. “You feel bad, for what? For messing with my emotions, or for getting with my best friend?” You poke his chest hard, but he remains as still as a brick wall, a pained expression mapped out. “Which one is it?”

“For all of it!” He grabs your face, making you freeze under his fire-like touch. “I loved you—God—I loved every inch of you. Your humor, your heart, your jokes that never land, the awkward giggles that follow afterward—everything. There was not a single thing you could do that could have pushed me away.”

“Then what happened?” you whisper, eyes tracing his pink lips, trying to enjoy his hands. They’re calloused, sure, but they’re by far the closest thing you’ve had, so nothing else matters. His breath hitches, soft eyes looking down at you in complete defeat. You grimace. “Why was I not enough for you to try?”

His hands drop. Brown locks shakes as he rubs his eyes, like this is all some part of a fever dream. Maybe it was. The Australian frowns. “I could ask you the same thing.”

It’s a slap in the face, and it burns like never before because you know he’s right. “I wanted to tell you!” A shaky breath. “I was going to tell you.”

Leaves rustle. “You were?”

“Yes,” you confess, nodding adamantly. “That day at Lando’s place—I wanted to tell you.”

The McLaren driver bites his tongue hard, blinking rapidly. “W-what would you have said?”

“That I loved you too.”

He can’t hide his pain just by hearing those words. He scrunches his nose. He nods robotically. And he keeps his eyes trained towards the ground, like he’s in the middle of solving a puzzle. 

“I really did like you. From the moment we met.” Finally, he looks up, round eyes searching for any sign of intimacy. If there’s any left—any you still save for him. “Do you remember the day we first met?”

“A little bit. Yeah.”

A second ticks by. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often.” He lets out a boyish grin, crinkles forming, making your heart flutter. “You took my breath away.” 

And as if humanly possible, despite the icy air, your cheekbones flush harder as you bite back a giddy smile. “You barely even noticed me—”

“You wore a white ribbon. Hair half up, half down. Denim overalls with your initials sewn onto them. Emerald earrings.” You blink, clearly taken aback by his polished memory. His eyes soften. “I’ll always notice you.”

-

Anastasia pecks the Australians cheek, giggling after each one. Oscar smiles, letting out a sheepish laugh. From the corner, seated next to Lando, you sigh sadly. The Brit bumps his shoulder up against yours. What’s wrong? But you must not have heard him, or you ignore him, but he, too, has eyes. 

“I swear I didn’t know a thing about them,” he whispers. “If I had, I would have warned you, you know that—”

“Lando,” you cut him off, voice weak and mellow. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

He frowns. “I know that, but—”

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time more firm. He swallows, nodding hesitantly. With a soft laugh, you poke his ribs and he’s quick to let out a yelp. “Just want to forget, you know?”

Lando hums. “Understood.”

Anastasia clinks her spoon against her mug. The one you each painted differently in that one pottery class years ago. She grins. “I’m so glad all of you could make it, really, it means a lot.” Her eyes crinkle sweetly towards Oscar who traces shapes down her back. She blushes for him—the same way you do. “I feel like…I finally have everything I ever wanted.”

A string of oohh's echo the room, whistles ringing. She laughs, head falling back, and he lets out a single chuckle, rosy cheeks making everyone grow louder. Meanwhile, you stay silent, focusing on Lando’s shoes. The Brit winces, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. 

Daniel yodels, raising his beer. “Well, in that case, I feel like I do too!” He hiccups, making Pierre and Yuki snicker. “A hot girlfriend, good ‘ol friends, and a nice pair of abs.”

“They are nice,” Lily mumbles, earning her a soft smack from Alex who rolls his eyes. 

Carlos cackles. “Me next—um, okay. A good team, my girlfriend, and…and—my hair.”

“Narcissist,” Lando whispers, trying to get a good laugh out of you. And it works. You giggle, muffling the sound with the back of your hand. Oscar perks up, orbs floating over to where you and the Brit whisper to one another, smiles only growing wider. His jaw clenches. Either way, you tune out all the constant chatter after hearing how Pierre was grateful for having a massive cock. 

“I really hope nothing changes between us.”

You laugh. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”

The Australian scratches his shoes against the wet pavement. He agrees. He won’t admit it, but he agrees. Everything has changed. Timidly, he glances over at you, biting the inside of his cheek. His gaze burns—just like always—and you turn to face him.

By now your tears have dried, but your heartbreak still continues. Something deep inside tells you that it’ll continue for as long as you live. You despise yourself for letting any of this get out of hand. For letting your fear of rejection play a big part in losing him. He smiles.

“I love you, okay?”

You smile. “I love you, too.”

Your voice sounds sweet—just like honey. And if it’s a lie, just to make him feel better, then he’s a grateful bloke. He might not have your heart—not completely—and he might not have your hand in his, but he’s fine with that. Because he’s heard all he’s needed to hear. And he can live at peace.

Oscar grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. It’s tender, just the way you pictured it. You smell like flowers, just like he had dreamt. He pulls away. “You can always talk to me. Whenever. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Thank you. But I won’t bother you too much.” His brows furrow, mouth opening to protest before you wave him off with a tired smile. “Don’t want to vent to you about…well—you.”

“What about you?” Anastasia squeals, making your jump in place. 

“What about me?” 

She rolls her eyes, theatrically. Oscar remains as still as a statue, enjoying the moment to admire you without having to explain why—all eyes were on you, after all. “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?”

Wistfully, your eyes look up, connecting with the ones you know so well. You admire his boyish features one last time before looking down onto your lap and then focusing on Anastasia.

“No. But I once got very close.”

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

[jazzyoranges]

Introverted

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you’re not much of a talker. that said, your lack of words doesn’t get in the way of meeting your (girl)friend’s sister

Words: 1.4k

A/n: mostly told through the pov of Sam cause i was feeling extra freaky and wanted to do something super crazy and unseen before

Warnings: alcohol consumption, that literally might be it

Sam was trusting her gut. Her gut said you were good for Tara but her past experiences said you couldn’t be trusted. Luckily she listened to nobody but Tara when it came to you. After all, Sam did promise she’d let sister live her life without her constantly looming over her

So Sam trusted Tara instead. Of course, the older Carpenter sister was still weary of you when her sister wanted you to come over and hang out with the core four, as Chad liked to call them. The name was never officially adopted but nobody ever stopped the boy from calling them that

She’s heard of your name through stories her little sister has told her. Sam was already aware of how you didn’t like talking. You watched and listened, always aware of everything around you. Not to mention you’re scary as shit - Tara’s words not hers. Countless times have there been when a protective arm around Tara’s shoulder and a glare were enough for anyone to back off. Sam’s thought of getting a dog for its scary privileges but it seems her sister already had scary friend privileges

A knock on their door sends Tara running to open it with Sam not too far behind. You were early. Wanted to make a good first impression, Sam guessed

“Thank you for giving her a chance, Sam. this means a lot to me.” Tara gives her sister a quick hug before opening the door. Sam doesn’t expect you to bring a gift as well

You tower over Tara. Maybe it was because you were tall, maybe it’s because her sister was short as shit. There are two wine bottles of a brand Sam’s never even heard of in your hands and Tara gives you a hug while you reciprocate with one arm

“This is for you. Thank you for letting me into your home. Your hospitality is appreciated.” You give a small bow before handing her the bottle. It catches Sam off guard. She didn’t want to admit it but she was already impressed. Or her expectations bar was set at an all time low. Probably the latter

Tara led you to their living room before coming back to Sam

“That was good! She usually only says hello when she meets new people. I think she might’ve said more words to you than Mindy and Chad combined”

“Really not a talker then, huh?”

“Definitely not. Will you open the door for the other two?”

“Yeah I will. Go spend some time with her”

The twins arrive ten minutes late but in their defense they were getting pizza for the night. Mindy almost immediately whistles at the wine you brought and opens it up

Sam finds you and Tara, well, just Tara laughing about something. Her sister said you weren’t much of a talker - not even talking to the twins very much - yet it seemed you were in deep conversation with Tara. Sam’s sister senses were tingling and they were very rarely wrong

The night continues without much falter. Everyone drinks, board games and video games alike are played, and nothing seems to be different. Other than you of course. You were so quiet sometimes Sam forgot you were there in the first place. You had a way of disappearing but always coming back when Tara talked to you. Sam’s sister senses were really tingling

You’d whisper something in Tara’s ear and she’d smile like she’s holding in the biggest laugh ever. Hell, after a few hours (and probably the wine) Sam saw you giving her sister small smiles and tiny laughs of your own. She couldn’t lie, it was astonishingly cute how her usually chipper sister was so amazed by someone so opposite of her.

Even later into the night, your little conversations with Tara seem to stop. It was around the time the twins stopped forcing you to play games and they settled on a movie to watch. Sam watches her little sister as she tugs on your shirt and whispers something in your ear. You nod and before she knows it, you walk out to their balcony that looked over the busy streets

“Why’s she out there?” Sam asks Tara after you’ve left

“She needs to recharge her social battery. Give her some time, she’ll come back”

//-//

You haven’t come back inside their apartment for about an hour, Sam notices

Tara’s accidentally fallen asleep on the couch while Mindy and Chad seem to be binging the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe with a bowl of popcorn cradled in between them. Sam didn’t remember buying popcorn but then again she also believed the twins were somehow magical when it came to food. Popcorn was probably the least of her worries

So Sam took her chance to talk to you. Walking to the sliding door to their balcony, the older Carpenter makes sure to not make any sudden movements. You’re leaning against the metal railing so Sam decides to join you

“You feeling okay? You haven’t come in for a while.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

Silence passes. Sam hopes it isn’t awkward for you

“(Y/n), I’ve got a question.” Sam doesn’t get a verbal answer but she does get your attention and a nod to keep going

“How’d you meet Tara?”

“Someone was looking at her weird at a party. I scared him off. He was known for not being a good person.”

“You’re observant, huh? That’s a good trait to have.”

“Thank you. I didn’t want her to make a mistake.”

“Thanks for scaring him off.”

“Anyone would’ve done it.”

A few beats of silence pass before Sam talks again. She didn’t expect you to start the conversation, which was alright with her. It gave her more control

“Can I ask you another question?” Another nod from you.

“Tara said you didn’t like talking much. Be honest, am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No. You want to know more about me because you care about your sister.” You pause. “I’m also a little drunk.”

The older Carpenter lets herself laugh. Big sister like little sister, she guesses.

“I like your honesty.”

“There’s no point in wasting breath on a lie.”

“Well, I hope we’ll have more conversations in the future.” Sam gets up from where she’s leaning on the balcony, moving to the door

“Why’re you leaving? I assumed you wanted to ask me more things.”

“You’d be okay with that?”

“The conversations in our future will only be answered by me nodding my head or not. I’m still drinking, you may as well ask now.” Swirling around your wine, you take a long sip. For courage, you know?

“You’ve caught me off guard here. That was all I planned.”

“We can just talk.”

“About?”

“Anything. Maybe Tara. We have her in common.” Your eyes glance back to the younger Carpenter fast asleep on the couch while Chad and Mindy were laughing about god knows what. Sam follows your gaze

Looking at you as you stare at Tara, Sam recognizes that look. She’s seen it before but a little different. It’s how Sam looks at Tara. It was always adoration and protection with the older Carpenter, but for you there was something different. Somewhere in your blank eyes and your monotone voice, you loved Tara. Sam could see it almost clear as day.

“You’re right. We do have her in common, don’t we?”

//-//

“C’mon, it’s not responsible to drink and drive. And I thought you were the one always telling me to be safe”

“I’m not too drunk. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Hey, you’re welcome to stay” Sam buts into you and Tara’s conversation. “You can sleep with Tara or I could set up the couch for you?”

“I see. Only if you’re positive I can stay.” You look away before meeting Sam’s eyes. “I’d like to sleep in Tara’s room for tonight. We’ll… keep the door open.”

“No need.” Sam winks before going back to her own room for the night. Fuck that felt weird. She should go to sleep before she tried to be the cool sister again

//-//

“I hope I made a good first impression.”

“Are you kidding? That was great! You did great”

“Thank you. I want Sam to like me.”

“Where was this attitude with Mindy and Chad?”

“They’re knuckleheads. Your sister isn’t.”

Sam’s never been happier the walls of their apartment were like paper. Not much of a talker her ass.

[alastor-simp]

Alastor with a female reader who is selectively mute Part 2

Here is part 2 of this story. Mimzy is gonna be in this story as well, since we havent heard her talk yet or what her personality is like, im just gonna write how I think she will talk and act. Enjoy everyone:)

***5 Months Later***

You had adapted to hell surprisingly well. Yes there was some bumps along the way, due to you being mute, but you adjusted as time went on. Your relationships with everyone in the hotel had grown significantly. Charlie adored you and loved you like a sister. She was this close to telling her dad if it was possible to adopt you into the family, but you frantically declined as you suspected it would complicate things, but it was sweet that she loved you so much to do that. Vaggie slowly adjusted to you, don't blame her, she was always untrustworthy of everyone in the hotel, but she came around sooner or later. She offered to teach you some self defense as you were still an easy target. It was a bit difficult, but you managed despite your clumsiness. Angel Dust was a bit annoying in the beginning as he really wanted to hear your voice, but the puppy dog eyes you gave him made him quit. Now he treats you like his bestie, taking you shopping and having you attend some of his shows, which flustered you, but you wanted to support him. Niffty found you adorable when you first met and she still does. She has tried not to speed run towards you, since it always shocked you, causing you to drop your notepad in the past. It took a while, but she was able to do it. Husk was literally your dad figure. He always came over when you appeared upset about something and offered to cheer you up with his card tricks or make you a virgin cocktail, especially since your alcohol tolerance was negative 1000. You loved that he became that caring towards you, especially how gruff he was with everyone else. Sir Pentious was a new addition to the hotel. He first appeared when he tried to blow up the hotel a second time, only for Al to defeat him easily. Later after that, he became a patron at the hotel. He wondered why you didn't speak, but after a talk with Charlie and Vaggie, he no longer questioned it. He did enjoy your company, whenever you came to his work space, as he was crafting his inventions. His Egg Bois adored you as well, which pleased him. Alastor had become almost your protector/best friend. Its crazy to think how in the beginning, he was a bit annoyed when you didn't respond to his question, to now where he was always there to help you whenever you were in a pickle. His radio tower was your sanctuary as you always headed up there during his broadcasts. Alastor would always anticipate you coming as well, as it made his day a whole lot better whenever you showed up and took a seat next to him, admiring him as he continued his broadcast.

Getting ready for the day, you stood in front of your mirror, making sure you look spiffy. Alastor had invited you to attend one of Mimzy's shows at her club. Excitement raced through your body, and you nodded quickly when he asked you. Alastor mentioned before that her shows were very entertaining, so it made you very happy when he invited you to come. After a few minutes of looking yourself over, you walked over to the bed and grabbed the cell phone that was there. Charlie had gotten you it a few weeks ago as a gift. She had installed a text to speech app on it, so whatever you typed on the phone, a voice would respond back. Tears filled your eyes when she gave it to you, almost apologizing for all the trouble she had to go through to get it for you, but she said it was fine and it hardly cost anything. You knew she was royalty, so one cell phone wouldn't be a big deal, but it was to you. After a bunch of persuasion from Charlie saying it was really alright, you accepted the cell phone, not before engulfing Charlie in a hug. It took a while to get use to it, but it got easier over time, and it was a whole lot better then the notepad.

Rushing out of the room, your feet carried you over to the lobby, where a certain deer demon was patiently waiting. Alastor's ear twitched when he heard the pitter patter of your feet, turning to face you with a smile. Stopping to catch your breath, you stood in front of Al and gave a small wave, causing him to chuckle. His eyes scanned your outfit and found it to be perfect for today's activities. "Excited are we, my dear?" Looking at Al, you nodded your head, smiling widely. How adorable he thought. Hooking his arm with yours, Alastor banged his microphone on the ground, causing a portal to open in front of you. "Transporting like this may be new to you, my dear! Hold on tight!" The both of you entered the portal. It felt extremely odd, but you powered through it. The portal had brought you in front of a large building, with a large neon sign reading "Mimzy's." There was a crowd of demons around the building, probably ready for the show, as Mimzy was very popular. Entering inside, your eyes were drawn to the decor. It was a lavish place, the walls were covered in burlesque posters, and string lights decorated the ceiling. It had a very spacious bar and in the center of the room was a large stage with a small band in the background. Heading over to a certain section, there was a table that read VIP. This must be for us, since Alastor was a frequent visitor at this place. Sitting down in the seat, Alastor called over a server, asking for their most popular giggle water, while turning to you and asking what you would like. Taking your phone out, you typed your answer and played it out:

"𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎."

The server was confused at that, but just shrugged and nodded while going over to complete the order. Alastor was not fond that you had to resort to that annoying technology to speak, but he did noticed how more calm you were using it then the notepad, so he kept his opinion to himself. After the server returned with the drinks, the lights began to dim, and the crowd began to let out cheers, as the main entertainer made her way to the stage. Mimzy was a very short demon, a little chubby, but very gorgeous. Her flapper dress suit her very well, as she made her way to the center of the stage. "Good evening, Ladies and Gents! Y'all ready for tonight's performance?" Cheers and whistles were the response to that. "That's what I like to hear! Hit it boys!" The stage lights flashed, as Mimzy walked closer to the front of the stage, standing in front of the microphone, ready to amaze everyone.

(LOVE THIS SINGER, Check her out)

The performance drew to a close, and you were blown away. Her voice was amazing. Loud cheers and applause radiated throughout the whole room, as Mimzy gave a bow. Both you and Alastor clapped with the crowd as Mimzy left the stage, leaving the band there, as they played some jazz to keep the entertainment alive. Alastor turned towards you, asking if you enjoyed the show, to which you responded with an enthusiastic nod. "Why Alastor! You made it" a familiar voice, called out from behind the both of you, as you saw Mimzy walking towards the both of you. "Of course, Mimzy my dear! You do know how much I adore your performances!" Alastor smiled as he greeted Mimzy, placing a kiss on her hand. Mimzy's eyes then locked on you. Oh boy, you hoped she was friendly. "Oh My Goodness! Who is this adorable little peach?!" Oh thank Lucifer, she was a nice demon. "Ah yes! This is another acquaintance of mine! Say hello my dear!" Mimzy glanced at Al when he spoke, then turned back to you with a kind smile. "How ya doin suga~? Did my voice blow you away?" Feeling uncertain, you wondered if she was going to treat you differently if she knew you were a mute. She seemed friendly enough, plus Al said she was a good friend. Slowly you grabbed your phone and typed out what you wanted to say to Mimzy.

𝚈𝚎𝚜! 𝙸 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎. 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎��𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚎, 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚍𝚍.

After the voice played, you pointed your eyes to the ground, feeling very shy. Clenching your hands under the table, you worried Mimzy was going to mock you for not speaking. "Oh my satan! Alastor, where did you find this angel? She is simply precious!" Mimzy had grabbed your cheeks, and began to squish them, like what a mother would do to a baby. "She had arrived in Hell a few months ago! She is a shy little one!" Alastor chuckled as he watched Mimzy coo at you. "No apologies needed suga~! Just happy you enjoyed the show! Here, let me give you a VIP pass so you can visit with no problems. Okay, darling?" Mimzy let go of your cheeks, and handed you the card. She had a very motherly side to her, which you liked. Grabbing the card, you nodded your head and smiled. Mimzy smiled and hugged you again. She then departed both of you as she had to meet up with some gents on the other side of the room. Both you and Alastor stayed at the club for a little bit, chatting about certain topics until you realized it had gotten late. Exiting the building, both you and Alastor decided to walk back to the hotel. Could have teleported, but the breeze was nice plus you both needed to stretch your legs after sitting for a long time. Your arm was hooked with Al's as he walked with you. Always such a gentleman. After walking for a couple of minutes, Alastor had stopped in his tracks. "My dear, may I ask you a question?" Alastor turned towards you, as he let your arm go, as he left you to stand in front of him. Staring into his eyes, you looked to see if there was any evidence of anger in them, but you found none. There was a little hint of sadness though, yet Alastor was still smiling. "I noticed during conversations with others, you always apologize! Why is that, my dear?" Tilting his head at you, he waited for your response.

Painful memories from your past began to flash in your mind once Alastor asked that question. Tears started to form, but they were blinked away. Reaching for your phone with trembling hands, you slowly wrote your answer and played it for Al.

𝙳𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚢, 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔, 𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍𝚘. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝. 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊���� 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚊𝚖, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, as you pointed your head to the ground. Everything you felt from back then began to pour out of you, and you couldn't stop. Alastor was silent in front of you, and you figured he was upset with you, but before you could type a response, you were caught off when you felt someone wrap their arms around you. You found your head being placed in the crook of his neck, as he held you tightly. HE WAS HUGGING YOU?!? The last months while staying at the hotel, you were able to find out that Alastor didn't liked being touch. Yes, he would touch you and the others, but it mostly involved an arm hook, slight shoulder hug or head pat. You never expected that Al would be hugging you like this. After a few seconds, he began to speak. "I am truly sorry you had to suffer through that, my dear! But let me tell you this, people who mock and taunt others for being odd or a little strange are the ẗ̸̝́r̴̦̒u̵̦̅ē̴̢ ̶̰̈́s̴̱̈c̷̪͒ù̶̧m̶͇͐ ̸͎̔ò̴̦f̸͔̈́ ̶̦̃t̶͈̽h̶̟͌ȩ̴̾ ̴̯̀è̴͍a̴̞͝r̸͙̊t̸̰̕h̸̤̉! They are the true monsters! Don't believe their heinous words! To me, you are the sweetest and most unique demon in all of the seven rings! Never apologize for being the way you are ever again!" His words made you cry even more. Moving your hands slowly, you placed them on his back, tightening the hug. You felt the slight flinch from his body when you did that, but he slowly relaxed and squeezed you tighter.

The hug lasted for a bit before Al slowly released you, snapping his fingers to have a handkerchief appear in his hands, as he wiped your tears away. Once he finished, he leaned down and placed his hands on the sides of your mouth, moving them up to make it appear you were smiling. "Come on, my dear! Smile!" The smile on his face was outstretched, revealing all of his sharp teeth. His antics never ceased to make you laugh. Looking at him, you gave him a great big smile. Chuckling, Al leaned back up and grabbed your arm again, continuing his walk back to the hotel. After about a few minutes of walking, you both stopped in your tracks as an unknown voice called out to the both of you. "Well well well, if it isn't the Radio Demon."

*(TO BE CONTINUED)*

Part 1 of the Story is Here

Part 3 of the story is Here

[silent-stories]

Out of the castle

(Eddie Munson x F!reader) fantasy au

It's dangerous to leave the castle without any protection, without guards. This is what you had been told your whole life and yet, until that moment it was the only way you had found to have fun, relax and spend some time alone, without anyone telling you to walk with your head held higher, how to eat or what to say.

You had the opportunity to feel the grass under your feet, the sun's rays on your face and the wind in your hair, smell the scent of flowers and spices, meet new people or walk through the town market without everyone staring at you or worse, bowing.

You had never understood that stupid gesture that made you feel extremely embarrassed every time. You lived in a castle doing almost nothing every day and you were born with the privilege of getting to learn how to read and write while the common people worked hard to feed their families, sometimes giving up their daily meal for the sake of their children, and they were the ones who bowed when they saw you?

They deserved much more respect than you and your family.

However, your parents didn't seem to understand it.

You didn't know how far you had gone from the castle that morning, but that had never worried you since its towers were visible in every part of the the city, and perhaps the kingdom, from how tall they were.

The narrow path you had walked, wound through the trees and the leaves formed a green roof over your head, filtering the sun's rays. The ground was soft beneath your feet, covered in moss and some dry leaves.

You thought that if your mother found your muddy boots hidden in the closet again, she would kill you and the kingdom would be left without heirs.

The clearing you had reached was surrounded by many tall oaks and a lake, calm and serene, stretched out in front of you. The crystal clear water reflected the blue of the sky.

The frogs croaked undisturbed and some birds, hidden among the branches, were singing.

It seemed like one of those fairytale places that you only read about in books and you wondered if there were sometimes fairies there. You didn't know if they really existed or not but you had read so many legends about creatures like them, that you had started to believe them.

The "crazy" old man who preached outside the bakery a few days earlier was sure to talk to them every night.

“I thought I was the only one who knew about this place.” A voice coming from behind you almost made you fall into the lake. Luckily it didn't happen: you can't teach a princess to swim.

Turning around, you looked at the young man in front of you for a moment. He was wearing a beige shirt (buttoned the wrong way), dark pants with a seam on one knee, and a brown belt around his waist. He didn't seem to have any bad intentions and looked at you with only slight curiosity painted on his face. His curly hair was messy and his brown eyes were still staring at you.

"Since we're both here, I guess you were wrong." You finally spoke.

He softly chuckled under his breath. “How did you find this place?”

“I was just…exploring.”

"Mm." He looked at you like he thought you were lying. “Well, I often come here to fish, so as long as you don't steal my fish, you are allowed to stay.” He added with a smirk.

“Allowed” You repeated to yourself, chuckling. You almost wanted to say that that place was technically yours, considering that one day you would be queen, but you didn't.

"Wait a minute," he said, his eyes widening, "we've seen each other before."

"Oh, I don't think so." You were quick to deny. "I don't leave my house much, I like... reading and painting."

You closed your eyes for a moment, sighing. They were the richest activities anyone could mention, dammit.

"But we did!" He exclaimed as a smile formed on his face, dimples on his cheeks, "You gave me a gold coin a month ago."

He was definitely prettier than any man your father wanted you to marry.

You shrugged. "I don't remember."

So he was the boy singing sat on the sidewalk that everyone was ignoring that evening.

"That's impossible! I was playing my lute outside a shop and you left a fucking gold coin in my hat! My uncle and I got three meals a day for a week thanks to that, and I even bought new boots! I never had the chance to thank you because a moment later you were already gone and I always wondered how the hell you managed to have such a coin and why the hell you decided to give it to me but now-" his babbling suddenly stopped.

"What?" You asked.

"No way." He murmured. "God, I'm so stupid!" He added, suddenly starting to bow.

That was always the worst part.

"I'm really so stupid. I don't know how I didn't notice before, I beg you to forgive me, I never meant to disrespect you and I'm deeply sorry for any-"

"No no no. Please stop. Don't." You grabbed his arm before he could bow.

He stopped mid-action, his knee almost about to meet the ground, and looked up at you, surprised.

"I'm serious, really. There's no need" You added, helping him up.

"But you're the princess." He murmured, confused.

"I know. But it's not that important, really."

It sounded funny, you had to admit that.

When he stood up and you realized you were still holding his arm, you let your hand fall to your side.

“So I won't have my head chopped off in public?”

You laughed.

"I'm serious!"

"I'm sorry. No, your head will be on your shoulders for a while longer."

"Okay, in that case." He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss that barely touched your fingers. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess of Hawkins. My name is Edward, Eddie to my friends, at your service."

“Call me Y/N, please.” A smile was on your lips caused by his theatrical ways.

"Wow." He murmured then, looking at you.

"What?"

"It's just... really weird. Seeing you here. Alone. Without twenty men ready to rip in two anyone who comes near you. Why aren't you...?" He raised an arm, pointing to the castle towers visible despite the tall trees. "I won't take 'I was exploring' for an answer."

"I ran away."

Eddie looked at you in surprise.

"I'll come back. I always come back. I have to. But sometimes I need time outside that castle. I can't spend my life locked inside those walls when there's a world to explore outside. So... I was really just exploring, actually."

"You have any idea how many people could like- kidnap you and return you to your family in exchange for chests full of gold? Assassins, pirates, hitmen..."

“Oh god, you sound like my family!”

He chuckled. "Sorry."

You never thought you'd find a friend outside the castle walls, someone you could talk to as if you weren't the heir to the throne and yet that morning, you spent it all talking to Eddie on the shore of the lake that only you seemed to know.

You realized that maybe Eddie could become your first friend ever.

You liked the way he laughed at your jokes and how he rolled his eyes, apologizing every time you scolded him when he called you “princess.”

"Do you know that your shirt is buttoned in the wrong way?"

"Princess, you live in a castle. You don't know the latest fashion trends."

You loved the way his brown eyes had so many shades of gold when they were hit by the sun's rays filtering through the leaves.

You liked the way he could weave fantasy with reality and confuse you, leading you to believe that the magic he claimed to be true actually existed.

"Of course fairies exist! They are small shiny beings and are only kind to those who are kind to them. A bit like all of us, isn't it?"

You liked his humor, sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose or was he was just like that.

"What about dragons?"

"You telling me you've never seen a dragon?"

"You telling me you saw a fucking dragon?"

"Hey, you know that for a princess you talk a lot like the people who work at the port, sometimes?"

And after hours, when you realized that if you were gone too long, they would find out about your absence, you had to say goodbye to him.

"Do you... do you think I'll see you again?" You asked then.

"Hey, I told you. I come fishing here often. And you can find me sitting on some sidewalk playing my lute."

You laughed. "Of course. See you then."

"See you."

You laughed when he gave an awkward bow.

The moment you started to walk away, you remembered something.

"Hey, Eddie!" You called out to him, before pulling a gold coin out of a pocket in your dress and tossing it to him.

He caught it.

And like the time before, before he could thank you, you were already gone.

[realcube]

hiii my sweet toe bunny😍😚🤎 i have an upcoming gigahuge exam bc it will determine whether i have to go to school for another whole damn year or not so im getting the stress hornies big time!! your requests seem to be open for some reason?! good writers like you are usually busy with a flood of them so i can never request anything😭 but anyways i was gonna throw you this little peanut, a classic really: size kink with lev! dont even know if you write for him lol, couldnt see it on ur profile🥲 i think he’d have the size kink more than any of us ever could, i just feel like he goes crazy especially if its a much shorter person. bc having a size difference from far away is one thing, but being right next to the person and interacting with them and putting your hand on their back and realizing you’re nearly twice their size… is another.

feel free to ignore this pookie butt im soo sorry if this is too specific or something ☹️☹️ writing is hard and getting inspired by someone elses idea is even harder, so yeah. stay hydrated and keep emitting gamma rays☃️

LEV HAIBA + SIZE KINK

a/n → not the sweet toe bunny 😭 stress hornies is so real, sorry for replying so late rah. but i hope your exam went well. or if you haven't sat it yet , good luck and i hope this helps :) also thank you so much for i compliments i can'tttt aaa 😩 wc — 2.5k

tags/tws → size kink (ofc lol), petite!reader, breeding, vaginal, fingering, oral (giving), frenching, petnames, semi-public, pregnancy implications & no beta

you've seen haiba lev before, in magazines and on billboards. sometimes even on television, promoting luxury perfumes in advertisements or modelling designer clothes on the runway.

you knew he was tall — most models are — but it was only when you saw him in person that you realised how truly big he is, how he towers over everyone else on set.

you work as an intern for a famous fashion brand, and you met haiba during a photoshoot he was doing for their new office wear campaign. your job was mostly fetching food or drinks for the models; making sure they were comfortable at all times.

the first interaction you ever had with him was when you were handing out water bottles to the models as they walked onto set, and as soon as you saw his huge frame saunter in, you almost froze from shock. he flashes you a polite smile and mouthed a quick "thank you" as he followed the director to where ever she was leading him.

and though it was brief, that was enough to have you fixated on him for the rest of the photoshoot. you were attentive to your duties but still so mesmerised by him. his lean figure and silvery hair. you had always known lev haiba was exceptionally attractive — he's a model, for fucks' sake — but something about seeing him in person made you feral.

and little did you know, after he first saw you, lev kept an eye out for you too. admiring from afar how hard you worked, and making sure to flex just a little bit more for the photos whenever you were nearby. he just thought you were so cute.

you assumed this whole situation would end as a little temporary work crush. you can fangirl over him for now and blush whenever he smirks at you from across the room, but once this shoot was over, he would never think of you again, while you'd go back to seeing his face plastered nearly everywhere and fantasize about what could've been.

but that wasn't lev's idea. he was used to pursing what he wants.

when the shoot is nearing completion for the day, lev has a long conversation with the photographer and is one of the last models to leave the set.

you were tasked with helping the models remove the designer's clothes, if they needed it. thankfully the majority of them didn't and by the time lev entered the changing room, all the others were leaving to go home, and you were wishing them a safe journey.

"excuse me, ms?" you hear a voice call from the changing room, followed by lev stepping out from behind curtain. he was previously wearing a full suit, but you can see he's shedded the black blazer and was now in only the fitted white shirt, black trousers and dress shoes.

he was looking down and fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, "could you help with this, please?" he asks with an awkward chuckle.

lips slightly parted at his unexpected inquiry, once the initial shock fades, you hastily nod and guide him back into the changing room, and this time you enter with him.

it's a confined area but still somewhat big. there's enough space for the two of you to stand, a stool, a clothes rack and full length mirror. he stands before you while you work on unbuttoning his shirt, starting from the top.

"sorry for asking you do this. the buttons are just too small for me." he holds his hands up as a size comparison, and they're undoubtly big.

"it's okay," you stutter, not daring to break your intense stare with his buttons because you know if you were to look up at his face, you might die. "i know these can be very fiddly sometimes."

"exactly." he nods in agreement.

it takes you quite a while to even reach his mid-torso because your hands are shaking so much from being in such close proximity to a celebrity you admire so much. and not only that, but you're literally taking his clothes off. and lev takes notice of his and comments, "nervous?"

your eyes widen and you freeze, heart jumping to your throat. eventually, you're able to squeak, "kinda."

"why?" he laughs, but not in a mocking way. he's genuinely confused as to why you'd be scared of someone like him. it's funny because people usually praise him for being very friendly and approachable.

"you're just.." your voice trails off, trying to think of a way to explain yourself without sounding offensive. "intimidating, y'know, in stature."

lev laughs even harder this time, "woah, that takes me back to when i was in high school. people used to be scared of me because i was the tallest kid in class." he explains, and you detect a hint of pride in his tone.

"that makes sense." you muse, continuing to work on his buttons but it becomes increasingly difficult. especially as he captures your chin between his fingers and pushed your head up so you meet his fiery gaze.

"doesn't make any sense to me." after soaking up your cute flustered expression, he glances down and sees you've only got one button left to do, so he prompts, "go on."

since your fingers are already latched onto it, you're somehow able to undo it without looking. he then releases his grip on your chin so he can slip the shirt off, hanging it up on the adjacent rack.

now shirtless, he turns to you and hums, "your turn?"

lips pressed into a line and heat burning your cheek, the only response you're physically able to give is a meek squeak accompanied by an eager nod. which doesn't even begin to encompass your enthusiasm but perhaps that's for the best.

he smiles at your agreement and grabs the bottom of your top and pulls it off in one swift motion, leaving you standing in your bra in front of him. and before you have a moment to process any of this, he slips one arm behind your shoulder and his other hand reclaims its spot on your jaw to manoeuvre your head upwards, so it's ready to receive his kiss when his lips suddenly come crashing down onto yours.

despite your tact, now that his lips have locked with yours, you find yourself melting into his touch and moving your against him rhythmically. your bodies — though vastly different in proportions — arching into each other desperately.

while one hand sloppily undoes his belt and pulls his cock free from the designer trouser, the other hand on your jaw slowly moves to hold your cheek as the two of you kiss fervently, then it shifts up to your ear, then tangles itself in your hair which he uses to gently pull you away.

you whine quietly at the seperation, missing his hot lips against your own, and he smirks at your reaction. eyes glued to yours, he rasps, "you want it, pretty?"

he motions downwards and you bite your lip at the sight; his size alone is enough to leave you dumdfounded and nodding pathetically, eager to hop on to his monstrous length.

"good girl. think you can handle it?"

"uhuh." you whisper, shaky hands wandering down to take hold of him, and he lets you. in fact, with his grip on your hair, he yanks you down until your face is mere inches away from his tip, "taste first."

with hesitation, you drop to your knees and graciously accept as much of him as you can into your mouth, though that is barely even half. lev still appreciates it; the warmth of your mouth causing his breath to hitch. his cock even twitches at the sight of your cheeks puffed out, struggling to hold him inside.

when his tip prods the back of your throat, it causes you to gag a little, so you immediately jerk away from his cock and cough into your arm.

a concerned look crosses his features and he lightly rubs your back to aid your coughing, "ah, sorry." he apologises, as if it was his fault his cock was so huge that you were gagging on it.

"it's okay." you grate once your coughing fit has calmed down, throat still a bit dry.

he offers you his hand to help you stand up, "c'mon, cutie, that's enough teasing." he reassures you.

you place your hand upon his and as he guides you to your feet , you can't help but notice how big his hand is compared to yours. your thoughts suddenly becomes flooded with fantasties of what you want those big hands to do to you, which he notes by how your touch lingers for a couple moments extra after he lets go.

identifying what your longing for, he presses his lips against yours once more, engaging in a heated make-out while his hands wander down to unzip your jeans and tug them off, leaving you in only your underwear.

while he creeps in tongue into your mouth to make for a french, his long slender fingers rubs your labia through the fabric of your panties, amused by how wet you are already. "still think you can take it?" he basically breathes into the kiss, parting for barely a second to mutter his inquiry.

you reply with an affirmitive moan into the kiss. and just in case that wasn't clear enough, you hook your leg around his hips to give him better access.

he gladly slides the damp strip of material out of the way and sticks his two fingers into your hole, silently snickering at how you writhe at the stimulation of his fingers alone. but you can't help it; they're just so long at push against your walls in just the right way that makes your needy pussy flutter.

the wet noises from your pussy fill the changing room, shortly followed by your stifled moans — afraid other staff might be nearby to hear. his palms rubs against your throbbing clit, as his fingers shallowly thrust inside you. the minimum amount of stimulation needed to make you squim.

lev simply stares at you, enchanted by how your tight hole clings to him, and how the size of his palm compares to your pussy. it's like he could scoop you all up in one hand; hold you tenderly in his hand like a precious doll.

"sweet girl.." he idles, fingers stirring inside you, "fit me so well."

just as he says that, a hiss is drawn from you at how he harshly pulls his fingers out of your hole.

"bend over for me." he commands nicely, and without a second thought, you turn around and bend over, positioning your forearms against the changing room walls to balance you. while you do this, lev has already hooked a finger under the lace of your panties and dragged them down until they fell to your ankles.

his fingers rubbed over your labia, occasionally teasing your clit and soaking up your slick with each seductive movement. his other hand worked on aligning his cock with your glistening hole, until the bulbous tip was prodding against your enterance, at which you let out a low whine of confirmation.

however you didn't fully understand the capacity of what you were giving yourself up for until it was halfway stuffed inside you, contorting your plushing walls to accomodate his massive size and creating a slight buldge in your abdomen. truly it had knocked the wind out of you and despite him no longer being crammed down your throat, you were still choking on it.

as you writhe and mewl in attempt to cope with the intrusion, lev pauses and takes a moment to admire your figure beneath him. how you're so kindly bent over for him, and your tight cunt is struggling to accept his cock.

you were just the right size. with you bent over, he was still tall enough to place his hands on the wall above you, essentially capturing you under him. his sweet angel ready to take him all, and he couldn't help his eagerness to give you what you want.

before he knows it, his hips start to move autonomously against yours, ramming his length into sopping pussy repeatedly, making a lewd squelching noise with every sharp thrust. the volume of which made it clear to anybody nearby what was going on in this changing room, though you didn't have the power to try and silence it, as the hot arousal pooling by your pussy was the only lubricant that facilitated lev's entrance into you, and main reason it was possible for him to move within your homey walls.

his dick stabbed into you over and over, while his slender fingers drew lazy circles over your clit. you were trying your best to stay hushed in fear of being overheard, but lev didn't seem to care. he was allowing the moans, profanities and obscene exclamations to flow freely off his tongue with out a care in the world for who might hear.

"fuck, cutie, so tight." he squeezes the flesh of your ass, then lets his hand wander up so it rests on the small of your back. he's just so much bigger than you, if he wanted he could probably pick you up and fuck you at his height so he doesn't have to bend his knees so much. it's a miracle you're even able to fit him all inside that petite little pussy.

it gets him so hard so see you like this. stripped bare and trembling under him, stifled moans brewing behind your lips and legs trembling as his colossal dick thrashes against your insides. relentless and bruising your cervix with each fervish thrust. completely fucked out from being impaled by his dick, your arms have given out which levaes your cheek pressed lazily against the wall of the changing room. the cold plastic making contact with your skin, hardly enough to combat the waves of searing pleasure he sends rushing through your quivering body.

"can't take it, huh?" he leans over you, his breathy words tickling your shoulder, "too much for this little pussy? too big for my sweet girl?" mindless dirty talk spills from his mouth as his eyes squeeze shut and he basks in the warmth of your walls clamping down on him.

and he pries them open again only so he can get another look at your shaking body, struggling to take him all but persevering. and with the friction of your hole , along with the sight of your small waist held in his soft hands, it wasn't long until lev finished inside you, spilling his hefty load within the confines of your gummy walls.

his cock was pushes out in the process, which made you sigh of relief, but with his hand already positioned on your clit, he was hasty to stuff his fingers right back into your creamed pussy, causing you to gasp.

"sorry," he whispered, straightening his posture and shuffling back, "just don't want to get any on my trousers. they're designer." he chuckles to himself, meanwhile you are still bend over with his load filling your insides; fully exposed and panting.

"maybe i should've used a condom." he muses, playfully curling his fingers, resulting in an erotic moan departing from your lips.

lev laughs heartily, as though he had just cracked the funniest joke, "nah. raw's more fun." he yanks his fingers out, leaving you to feel the full force of his cum stirring within you, "who knows, maybe next time i come back here, there will a tiny version of me."

he places a final kiss to the nape of your neck before heading to pick up his shirt, "and i don't just mean tiny because of your genes."

[dragoncookies]

(spoilers)

can we just talk about how hardcore the second book is?

I mean, ALL the books are crazy, but it’s been four years since I last reread tmbs and I remember glazing over the second book, because usually in a series the second book is just like build up and filler for the third one (with the first book having all the magic a first book usually had)

but this series? I aged 58 years reading the second book, and I was disgustingly addicted to it the whole time I read it. I truly thought it was the end for our protagonists. Usually you can see how they might turn a bad situation around, but it just looked straight hopeless when everyone ran out to the beach in hopes that help had come and there was just nothing there. And then, when the Shortcut appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, I cried real tears of joy. I know it’s a kids series and sometimes kids series can be deep, but these kids have to be straight traumatized by their experience in that book. They were pushed to their absolute extremes physically, psychologically and emotionally. From being stuck on the ship in one small confined room while traveling across oceans to a place they had never been before, solving all the riddles, keeping watch during that dark night trying to stay awake with the fear of death and being captured hanging over them, being tied up in that giant room with the ten men ready to torture them, then being captured by Curtain and BEING tortured (shocked), then having to run and carry Mr. Benedict until their hands were bleeding and they were beyond their physical limits, and THEN after seeing their LAST CHANCE for making it off that hellish island not be there having their hopes let down….if I were them, I’d probably just go insane. Its shocking because the whole series is so breezy light, but the actual content, once you think about, isn’t so light at all.

Every character was developed so deliciously. Reynie went from being smart and good at riddles, to being a conniving plotter, who could be a supervillain in his own right. Kate almost bombed a ship full of her worst enemies (willingly), but then found some insane inner strength and decided NOT to. Sticky went through an ego-struggle arc and then, after being the group scaredy cat, suddenly became THE MAN in their darkest hour when they all had to carry that stretcher down the mountain and had nothing left to give (and it almost broke my heart when Reynie narrated it saying smt like “maybe we’re all gonna die but at least I get to witness Sticky in his prime 😌). And Constance? Well. She’s Constance, but her mind reading is sick, and I like the relationship dynamic that grew between her and Reynie in this book.

there was so much inner turmoil from Reynie, and the whole “there’s no good-hearted people in this world” belief he struggled with, resulting him question which Benedict twin he himself was more like, was just so scrumptious. He’s the perfect person to narrate the series, and that becomes clear during this book. Finger lickingly good stuff. And we can’t forget Sticky knocking Constance off the watch tower when a ten-man appeared from the darkness. That made me chortle. Or Kate regurgitating McCracken’s key so they could all escape. She’s just so different.

There are just so many good moments in that book. It’s really truly quite the adventure.

[lorkonsghost]

another post okay giant Jason relationship with the bat family.

Dick Grayson/nightwing

Talks about as decent brother when around other,

Dick

when they talk about jason like he's a baby a big angry baby who can do no wrong and everyone thinks he's crazy since Jason is easily the scariest thing they ever met

Bruce

it's similar to Canon but Bruce is more active in trying help get along with him and the family since Bruce thinks fighting as he has is enough.

Cass use Jason as a jumping off spot when they fight together it pisses Jason off but Cass doesn't care also Cass as shortest BatFam after Damien is not a fan of fighting Jason since if she gets grabbed its game over so when she fought Jason she was playing defensive in this au

Tim if titans tower happens is terrified of Jason for how easily he was beat tossed around like a rag doll in this au and but when gets over his fear their probably the closest siblings.

Tim if titans tower doesn't happen he is Jason number one defender simply because a few dead or fight Jason again is easy decision in his book like he remembers when in this au when Jason was fighting multiple bat at a time every week like it was nothing and he would rather not.

Steph has the most fun teaming with Jason since that means the brick house can take on most fodder no problem so the only real problem are big bads and they have craziest prank wars

Duke is weird since dc wants nothing with him at all. Though I think he has the most potential character growth in dc comics along side Cass and Jason of course if dc gave a shit about any of them dukes powers are so intriguing and dc does nothing with him sorry mini tangent but him Jason would be bound over being protectors of the daylight and crime ally respectfully

Babs is a weird character in general when it comes to Jason but I feel like though in this au she had the hardest time accepting Jason was red hood because while Bruce was in thick of it so he had to face it more directly and dick was just glad he could finally make with up Jason. Babs was watching from sidelines and the difference between kid Jason and adult Jason can give you whiplash but that sweet little boy is now bigger than a brick house a kills people so yeah although she helps Jason the most when she comes to accept that their the same Jason

Damian respect for Jason is a lot since he easily one scariest fighters on earth all though you could argue certain people are better and more skilled fighters but Jason used his powerful build with all skills he's learned over the years let's Damian a certain respect for him

Honorable mentions

Talia al-ghul / Ra's al ghul

Are terrified of Jason if he finds out how much of the truth they manipulated so he could attack Bruce because if Batman needs back up then so they

Short king dick au

That's his baby brother godamit he doesn't care what others think

Justice league

What do you mean a human is justice league level threat Bruce what do you mean he has access to almost all of your contingencies what do you mean you can't track him Bruce what do you mean he rules most Gothams crime bruce answer us bruce

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Promise - Josh Dun x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: Kiss, swearing, angry Tyler

A/N: Can't be bothered to do a word count bc i'm tired. its about tyler saying he'd wait for reader when she comes back to columbus but when she comes back for the high school reunion she finds out he's married to jenna. so she starts to hit it off with josh.

Worthington Christian High School reunion. 2015. 7 years after Tyler and I had graduated. 7 years after I moved from Columbus to LA in search of making it as a film director. Everyone at home had thought I was insane, throwing my life away for a career I was almost guaranteed to fail at. Except Tyler. The other crazy dreamer in our grade, except his passion was music. We spent two summers together, him helping me make films and me helping organize gigs for him. When I left Columbus we promised we’d wait for each other. I loved him and was willing to do anything to make him mine. 

“I’ll wait for you,” a couple tears dropped down his face as he tried to remain strong. I pulled him in close for a warm embrace, feeling his chest rise and fall with his breath. I knew I would be back, I was going to make it and then I was going to come back for Tyler. But it had been 7 years and all we’d seen of each other was a few video calls. Tyler had achieved massive success with his band and it was impossible to avoid their songs on the radio. I’d ended up becoming a director, making a few movies and music videos, winning me my first Oscar. I didn’t know why but I was nervous to see Tyler, worried that he’d changed. It was a cold night so I’d made sure to put on a sweater. I was at least half an hour late–being stuck in a meeting with producers was almost always the reason I was late to everything–the entrance to the school was dead, except one man sitting on a bench, staring up at the night sky. 

“The reunion’s tonight, right?” I asked him, trying to figure out if I’d marked it wrong on my calendar. He didn’t look familiar to me, there was almost no way he’d gone to Worthington Christian, I knew everyone in our grade. 

“Yep,” he nodded. 

“Then why aren’t you in there?” I folded my arms and my breath came out in steam, the air much colder than I thought it was. 

“I didn’t go here, my friend and his wife are in there. I drove them here from my house and just stopped to get some air. What about you? How come you’re so late?” He smirked. 

“Uh… I had a meeting. Some producer thing for a new TV show in production. I’m a director,” I spoke, still trying to figure out how the man looked so familiar. He had curly brown hair and arms covered in tattoos, and that golden retriever look about him. 

“That’s cool, I’m a musician, the name’s Joshua,” he seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say, “have you made anything I might’ve seen?” I paused to think about what he might’ve seen. He was a musician so surely he’d watch music videos. 

“Well Joshua, I directed the music video for Green Day’s ‘Corvette Summer’ if you’re a fan of them,” I offered. His face lit up, clearly he had seen it. 

“Hell yes I’m a fan, the video was epic. Gosh, I love music videos, they’re awesome,” he grinned. Music blasted from inside the school, they were playing Tyler’s song, ‘Stressed Out’ which was my cue to go inside. 

“Sorry, I should probably get inside, it was nice meeting you Joshua.”

“Wait! What was your name?” He grabbed my hand. 

“Y/N,” I smiled. Joshua pulled out a business card from his wallet and passed it to me. 

“Get in touch with me, I live in LA too. We should get coffee sometime Y/N.” I nodded before slipping away through the doors. The song continued to blast through the speakers as I walked inside the gym. 

“Y/N! Hi!” a jock shouted, towering over me.

“How’s Hollywood?” a popular blondie who I was sure had peaked in high school preened, her phone flashing into my face. 

“Looks like we’ve got two stars in our grade,” Jack, the class president shouted over the mic. He was standing on stage, a can of beer in his hand like no time had passed at all. “Why don’t you two come up here? Talk to us about what it’s like to be better than all of us,” he let out a loud and obnoxious laugh which was then echoed back by everyone else in the room. I felt a hand on my back push me towards the stage, turning my head back to see him, Tyler Joseph. He looked so much older than the last time I’d seen him. His head was shaved in a buzzcut and head was wearing a yellow denim jacket. He looked famous. More so than me. He flashed a smile at me before taking the mic from Jack. 

“Hey everyone,” he waved, “god it is good to be back here with all of you, if you guys even remember us. If you don’t, then I was the basketballer who wrote poems at the back of Mr Stevenson’s math class while the rest of the team was failing his infamous algebra test,” he let out a loud laugh. “Now I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Worthington Christian, the people at this school shaped who I am as a person. I found the confidence to share my music with people here. I stayed in Columbus and I met my loving wife.” I’m sorry, wife? Tyler Joseph was married? My Tyler? The Tyler who’d promised he’d wait for me? I felt dizzy. But that didn’t stop Tyler from shoving the microphone into my hand. The room went silent as I stood there feeling like I was spinning. This wasn’t happening. 

“I–I’m happy to be here,” I tried desperately to smile but I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. “Thank you for having us back.” I handed the mic back to Tyler before leaving the stage and running out the gym. I felt warm, my cheeks flushing bright pink and the lack of water I’d drank finally catching up with me. I stared at the ground as I desperately tried to hold back sobs. 

“Y/N?” It was Tyler. 

“What the fuck do you want Joseph?” I spat, he knew exactly what he’d done. “I don’t want you here.” 

“I–I know you don’t. I effed up, I get it. But you never came back, you promised me you’d come back and you didn’t Y/N,” he sighed. 

“I fucking waited for you,” the tears started to pour down my cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” he pulled me in for a hug, “I still care about you, okay? You’re still important to me.” I nodded my head, waiting for him to let me go. I needed to get back to my hotel before I screamed at him. Finally he pulled back, a sorry look clinging to his face. I pushed past him, walking into the parking lot, I was done. Joshua was still sitting out there looking up at the stars. He turned around as soon as I pushed open the doors, his eyes widening when he saw me. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” 

“Joshua, now's not the time,” I snapped but all it did was make him look more worried. He stood up and started following me through the parking lot–my hotel was a 15 minute walk away. 

“What happened?”

“Just this guy I really liked, Tyler. When I moved to LA we promised we’d wait for each other but apparently he’d married,” I threw my arms up in frustration. Joshua looked confused.

“What?”

“I wasn’t aware you were that Y/N, if I knew I probably would’ve prepared you for what you were about to see,” he said. 

“That Y/N?” Joshua stopped walking and let out a sigh. 

“Y/N do you know anything about Tyler’s band other than radio hits and that he’s in it?” he asked. I shook my head, Joshua chuckled lowly. I probably should’ve known more about my best friend’s famous band but I had been busy. Making movies was tough work.

“Okay well… My name is Joshua but everyone calls me Josh–Josh Dun.” I still shook my head, having no idea what he was talking about. Should I have known who he was? 

“Okay Josh, what does that have to do with Tyler?” He looked baffled that I didn’t know what he was talking about. 

“Tyler’s band… twenty one pilots. I’m the drummer, the other member in the band.” My jaw dropped. Holy shit. Fuck. I just vented about my stupid crush on Tyler to his bandmate. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’ll leave you alone now Josh,” I ran a hand through my hair and started walking away. 

“Y/N, wait!” Josh grabbed my hand, “I don’t want you to leave me alone. You seem cool, I want to get to know you. Tyler’s told me a lot about you and if it makes you feel any better he felt really bad when he started dating Jenna.” If Tyler felt bad then why did he do it? Clearly they were made for each other if he felt like he could break our promise. I was 25 and hadn’t dated anyone since I’d left for LA because of that promise. I’d wasted 7 years. 

“Thanks Josh. You seem cool too,” I smiled. Maybe Josh would be it, I’d only known him for an hour but he was friendly, interested in film and music, and incredibly attractive.

“You know, I haven’t had dinner yet, do you want to go get some food? Tyler said there was a diner nearby,” Josh suggested. I agreed and walked back to his car. 

Josh had a burger and I snacked on some fries. Things were going well, we’d talked about the band and what it was like touring and we talked about the film industry. We’d even realized that we were on the same flight back home. 

“When we get back to LA, I want to show you my place,” Josh held the door open for me as we left the diner. 

“I’d like that,” I replied, trying to hold back a smile. I climbed into his car as he drove back to the school to pick up Tyler and Jenna. “I should probably walk back to my hotel before Tyler comes out, I don’t want it to be awkward,” I sighed.

“It won’t be awkward, you’re with me. But I do want to give you something before you go back,” he replied. We drove into the school parking lot and waited while everyone walked out. 

“And what’s that?”

“A kiss,” he smirked, leaning in towards me. 

“Oh really?” I smiled, his hand coming to cup my face. I felt his lips brush mine and I closed my eyes, butterflies filling my stomach and cheeks flushing pink. 

“You’re really something else Y/N,” Josh whispered. Knock knock knock. I jumped, turning around to see Tyler standing there with his arms crossed and his wife hiding a smile. 

“You two have known each other for less than a day!” Tyler shouts, a hand rubbing his eyes. 

“And that’s my que to go. I’ll call you,” I laugh, getting out of the car. Josh says his goodbye and Jenna gets in the car. Tyler grabs my arm and drags me aside. He looked angry. 

“First you’re mad at me for marrying someone and now you’re kissing my best friend?” 

“Tyler, that's not fair. Josh and I, we’re just talking, it’s okay, he’s cool.”

“It better be okay because if he hurts you I’ll kill him,” he pulled me in for a hug. He still cared. He still cared.

//

Please submit any requests y'all have! I love to write so let me know if you've got any!

[star-girl69]

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: this…. is a crazy chapter. i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: cannibalism. cannibalism. CANNIBALISM. death, dead bodies, CANNIBALISM, mentions of blood, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twenty Three - Angel Cake

Chapter Twenty Three - Angel Cake

—-

1996-

When you wake up, you think you’re dreaming. It’s the middle of the night, and you’d fallen asleep with the smell of a campfire all around you, wild and untamed.

You sit up, your stomach rumbling, Natalie’s hand falling from your waist down to your stomach, and something hits your nose.

Something like… meat.

“What is that?” one of girls whispers, and Natalie’s hand flexes against you as she wakes, cupping your stomach, with a storm rolling inside of it, a hunger for her and a hunger for that smell.

“I’m hungry,” you whisper, and Natalie sits up beside you. You close your eyes and breath in deep, and Natalie hooks her head over your shoulder, her lips against your neck, but she suddenly pulls away.

“Do you..?” she breathes, and you do.

“I’m hungry,” you whisper again.

Slowly, Shauna creaks open the door, and dressed in nothing but your socks, you all follow her- like pigs to a slaughter, duckling’s trailing behind their mother.

It’s meat, you think to yourself. It’s meat.

But all of you know what you’re burning tonight.

Her body is still smoking, wafting in the air, and your mouth waters, your feet crunching against the snow like bones. But you’re hungry. You’ve been hungry for so long.

And before, it was easy to ignore. When there wasn’t something like this in front of you- but what are you supposed to do now? There’s food. It’s food.

Shauna reaches the pyre first, the sticks smoking and black with ash, and falls to her knees.

Snow whips around you, falling on the dead body, and that’s all it is- a dead body. Meat in your stomach.

You tilt your head up to the sky, and wonder if God can finally hear your prayers now.

Everyone gathers around the smoking body, and it’s in your stomach, a storm, a want, a need- and how is it possibly your fault? She’s dead, and now, she’s like this. And you’re hungry.

Shauna presses her hand to her round stomach.

“She wants us to.”

You kneel next to her legs, Natalie at the end, Travis next to you. Everyone looks around the table, because all of you are hungry, all of you want this.

Hunger is all you have known for months, and now there’s a feast in front of you.

You look ahead into the forest, and if you close your eyes, breathe out into the cold air, through the fog of your breath- you can just make out a pair of antlers through the trees.

Twisting up like bone, something majestic, something not made by man, not scarred by anything evil or savage. It is just pure white bone. Ivory in its majesty, towering above the barren trees and the pines.

You once thought Jackie looked like an angel in the snow, blue and cold, unmoving.

Now, she’s your savior, smoking and cooked, and you’re hungry-

Everyone watches Shauna, and she takes a knife to Jackie’s ribs, cutting herself a piece with a sound that you will never forget.

She stares at it for a moment longer, tender flesh, full of everything you need to survive the winter. If you just focus on the hunger, on that hunger that’s been there for so long, on the rot in your soul that has already taken root- it feels right.

You’re just hungry.

And this is the only way to satiate it.

Finally, after one long second, she puts it into her mouth, chews it, open-mouthed, once, twice.

You aren’t sure who grabs the second piece.

But suddenly you’re reaching for the nearest flesh, digging in with your bare hands, plucking out a chunk with your sharp fingernails- like you somehow knew that you would need something sharp for this. Something to cut through, something to feed you.

When it hits your mouth, you breath out through your nose, almost moaning in delight, and the antlers appear through the fog again, hazy.

Your lips ache from where you keep grazing them on your nails, the hand the feeds you.

It starts slow, but you’re all hungry, and you start grabbing whatever you can, whatever’s closest, shoving it into your mouth, hungry and wild, panting and moaning, your stomach feeling full for the first time in months.

The rest of the girls do the same, muttering prayers, muttering thanks, moaning into the dark night, the sound of flesh ripping.

You eat.

You eat while you stare at the antlers through the fog of your breath. You eat, juice dripping down your chin, your hair sticking to the sides of your jaw.

You eat as the antlers turn red with blood, falling to the snow, over the branches and the pine needles, falling all over you- and you lick it up too.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki @happysparklingshadows @zhivaxo @maraudeerrs @karsonromanoff

everything taglist:

@emilynissangtr

[scalproie]

@zenyamin HELL YEAH I DO

Put them under a readmore bc even if I streamline their needlessly complicated lore, its still A Lot.

First group is bunch of miscellaneous vehicons left behind on earth after every cybertronian went home to cybertron, and they kinda stumble upon the enigma of combination, making them into a combiner. You have:

Jam (as in "Traffic Jam", vehicon, head)

TR-135 (vehicon, right arm (turn into blaster))

Overburden (miner vehicon, left arm (turn into a drill))

Ringer (eradicon (the flying ones), left leg)

Lacet (silver eradicon, right leg)

When combined theyre not very powerful but their strength resides in their crazy resiliance. They fight monstrous manifestations of Unicron who wanted to take advantage of the fact that every cybertronian allegedly left earth to plan his grand return by wiping out every living thing on his surface. He named them "Cannon Fodder".

Second group has a whole lore and setting so hold on:

Bots and Cons on hell moon

So it all starts with a decepticon scientist named Spin Glass who worked his entire life on one (1) project which is to create his own Emberstone after the one from Quintus Prime, Megatron recruited him back at the start of the war but after the severe lack of any result, he eventually send him to a very remote and hostile moon with a bunch of decepticon nobodies so he could get him outta his hands.

Eventually Optimus and the autobots came to know about the existence of said moon and the decepticon team on it so he send an equal bunch of autobot nobodies to keep the cons there in check.

The two teams came into contact and started fighting just as Spin Glass' Emberstone came to completion and its activation resulted in two things:

It destroyed the transmission tower of the moon, stranding the two teams there until its either restored and they can send a distress signals to their respective sides, or until someone from the decepticon or autobot gets worried about the lack of news from the moon teams (this will not happen)

Everybody acquired a power from a specific Prime, split into two for each side:

Spin Glass (con) and Quick-fix (bot) got Quintus Prime's magno-telekinesis and are able to channel Spin Glass' Emberstone to heal their allies.

Spin Glass is the leader of the decepticon team and the main scientist, he tries to keep his new god complex and his frustration about the stupidity of everyone on this moon, esp his team he has to relunctantly fix, in check, but to his credit he is arguably the strongest cybertronian there.

Quick-fix is the autobot team's medic, her magno-telekinesis is honestly nothing compared to Spin Glass', but she doesnt let it get to her (it pisses her off so bad). She can channel the Emberstone much better and from almost anywhere tho, and it had made her an incredible healer.

Tideturner (con) and Perihelion (bot) each got one half of Prima's Star Saber.

Perihelion is the leader of the autobot team and refuses to admit she might be a little out of her depth, and her denial is fueled by the need to prove her worth. She is by far the better swordmaster here and has a better handling of her half of the Star Saber.

Tideturner is a con soldier who loves challenges but hates defeat, he's a very sore loser and an even more infuriating winner.

Pulstar (con) and Pharos (bot) have a mild control over time and space that they got from Vector Prime, they use it to reach incredible speed.

Pulstar knew Spin Glass the longest and is the closest thing he might have to a friend if Spin Glass had any of those. Pulstar has something Spin Glass severely lacks: enormous charisma, and bc of that, Pulstar is on somewhat good terms with everyone on his team and is the major reason why it hasnt imploded yet. He's the unofficial SiC.

Pharos is a regular bot soldier and ever since hes had those powers, he's obsessed with finding out its limits, like lightspeed.

Balefire (con) and Aphelion (bot) can make clouds of the paralyzing toxin that was in Liege Maximo's liegian darts.

Aphelion is the "spark sister" of Perihelion and the autobot team's SiC. She is very worried and insecure about having received the power of the most treachorous Prime and what it could mean for the relationship between her and her sister/team.

Balefire used to be the most nobody of nobodies con soldiers and his new powers got to his head VERY fast.

Makeshift (con) and Presage (bot) gained the ability to transform into anybody effortlessly just like Amalgamous Prime.

Makeshift (yes that one) was already a shifting spy before this ordeal but with a lot of technical setbacks, so this new development and power made their job EXPONENTIALLY much easier. They have BY FAR the best handling of their new power out of anyone on the moon, including Spin Glass. They are even able to manifest Amalgamous' scythe seemingly out of nowhere.

Presage used to be an actor pre-war before having to join the autobot's side. Thanks to his new power, he is very excited to be able to flex his acting muscles and fool those uncouth cons into provinding intel for his team.

Short Fuse (con) and Atomizer (bot) inherited Alchemist Prime's lenses that allows them to see incredibly far, but also to scan for hidden energon, to see thru walls for a bit, and to see through Presage and Makeshift's disguises.

Atomizer (yes that one) is the one who is the most pissed about being stranded on this moon, and the godly powers he received are barely compensation, but he does have to admit that he is a much more deadlier archer/sniper now. Perihelion has to butter him up about him one of the most vital member of this team. He has a particularly active rivalry with Makeshift.

Short Fuse is the con sniper and he FUCKING HATES people. He will spend almost the entirety of the fights in a completely different location shooting bots from far away. Outside of fights he almost hides away in his own base and WILL physically attack you if you come near him. He tolerates Pulstar a bit.

Snap Out (con) and Coil (bot) are able to make almost any invention possible thanks to Solus Prime's power.

Coil was very happy to be a nobody bot during the war bc he hates violence and has a severe self-esteem problem. He uses his new power almost exclusively to create defensive devices to help his team. Spin Glass is particularly interested in him bc outside of himself, Coil is the only one able to fix the transmission tower.

Snap Out was the one who was most mentally affected by getting her power, she creates exclusively weapons for herself and treat them as if they were alive, calling herself their "mother". Despite that, they break very quickly and she has no grief over it. Spin Glass refuses to work with her bc he thinks she's crazy.

Sidewinder (con) and Stormweaver (bot) had their alt-mod upgraded into mythical creatures to reflect Onyx Prime. They can access aspects of his triptych mask, with the exception of mournsong.

Sidewinder can now turn into a western dragon with a lot of firepower. Out of the three aspects of the mask, the one he uses the most is predator and he now bases his new personality around the hunt. Sometimes he refuses to go back to his robot alt-mode. His team thinks he's cringe.

Stormweaver can now turn into an eastern dragon with lightning control. Out of the three aspects of the mask, the one he uses the most is farsight, and he mostly does it to try and predict the very hostile weather of the moon.

Lift Off (con) and Hardwire (bot) got the strength, arsenal and general tankiness of Megatronus Prime. They also have limited access to the requiem blaster and are mostly fighting for control over it.

Hardwire is the ONLY ONE out of the 18 bots on the moon to have a little admiration for the moon they're on. He secretly documents the environment around him. He is the main pillar of support for his team and is likely the one reason they don't all lose it.

Lift Off is a mean girl in the body of a massive helicopter. She thinks very high of herself and has now the power to back it up. She WILL try to get a rise out of people just to see what happens, Pulstar's the only one who's immune to it.

SO THAT'S THE FULL TEAMS.

They mostly fight over the transmission tower, as the first one to hold onto the position and fix it will be the one who'll be able to first call their faction's leaders. Usually when a team make a little bit of progress on it, the other team come destroy it.

They COULD work together to fix it but Spin Glass wants to rub his scientific success rrrrrreally hard in Shockwave's face and Perihelion wants to show Optimus that she can be an Autobot team leader hero without help from anybody.

When they're not fighting over the transmission tower or in other various locations, they're fighting against the moon itself that seems even more hostile than before ever since Spin Glass activated his Emberstone, so now the moon throws at them storms, meteors, energon blackouts, and other deadly stuff they might even have to work together to survive.

And if you read all this and think "hey wait a minute isnt that..." you would be 100% right and it is 100% on purpose

Now what are YOUR tf OCs 🫵

[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished pt 18

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 18/?? Word count: 1989 Cw: gaslighting, mention of domestic abuse, anguage]

—————

The troupe quickly set up their tents in Greed, outside of Legalesedale. They steered clear of Notamafia Town, Extortionville, Corruptcopsburg, and Noyakuzahere City; those big population centers had crazy high taxes for out of towners. Legalesedale was slightly better in that regard.

The sudden change of location threw a lot of the performers off; they had to take a day to pitch tents and rest up. When the shows resumed, there were problems.

And they all had to do with Fizzarolli. He, Barb, and Barb’s mom were all still upset from Blitzo abandoning them. Tilly refused to believe what Cash had told them. The kids were mostly angry and sad at Blitzo’s absence. That icy chunk feeling in Fizz’s tummy hadn’t gone away. A couple performances by himself was a hurdle.

A solo act forever scared him.

Fizz liked the applause and laughter. It felt great to make so many people happy with something he had fun doing. But without his friend, the pressure was too much. Too many eyes on him. He’s started flubbing. He missed a catch juggling and he could feel Cash’s disapproval after.

He had to be perfect. He had to practice and be the best clown possible on his own. But that icy chunk wouldn’t go away!

If anything, the more he tried, the worse he got. He kept missing catches, dropping the spinning plates, tripping during the acrobatic parts. Cash was getting more and more angry with him. Fizz realized those looks the ringleader gave him were familiar. But he’d never been on the receiving end.

That had been Blitzo. Is that why Blitzo left? That thought didn’t make him less sad about the other boy abandoning them, it just made him more confused.

Almost three weeks into their stay in Greed, Fizz barely felt any thrill at performing. The iciness was all through him now. But he couldn’t give up. He was going to be better than that jerk who left. He was going to be perfect.

His hands decided otherwise and he struggled to make balloon animals. That crowd’s laughter that day hurt. After that round of performances, Cash pulled him aside.

“Fizzarolli, kid, what’s the big deal?” The adult imp looked and sounded sympathetic but something was off. Maybe the way he towered over Fizz or the slight hiss on his words. “You gotta get back to normal, you’re the best clown we got, don’t want to disappoint anyone. Right?” Cash’s eyes were watery and pleading.

Fizz felt bad for thinking the ringmaster didn’t care. He was probably upset about Blitzo being gone too, but the show had to go on. The little clown nodded eagerly. “I-I’ll do better sir.”

“Good, because the whole troupe is relying on you.” Then he gave Fizz a heavy handed push to go get dinner. The boy picked listlessly at his potatoes, trying to figure out how he could be good enough again.

Barb sat down next to him. “Still having a hard time Fizz?” He nodded glumly, eating a mouthful so he didn’t have to actually talk. She took a bite of her chimera nuggets before continuing. “Wanna team up?”

Fizz swallowed hard, “Huh? But you never liked the clown act…”

She shrugged. “I gotta find a new act, since…” her brow furrowed angrily, “can’t exactly do a twin act without a twin.” She bit into a nugget, tearing off its head to vent her anger.

The ice thawed a bit. He and Barb had always been friends, even if he’d been closer to Blitzo. Just having a friend beside him was calming. “Okay, let’s start planning our new act after dinner.”

He and Barb ended up being less comedic and more acrobatic, but they worked well together. It took a few months of practice before they were up to live performances. Before then Barb would wait just outside the ring, her steady presence helping him regain his confidence.

Their comedic bits had Barb playing the foil to Fizz’s humor. She had a way of looking completely disinterested that Fizz was able to adapt his jokes to. Their take on the pie gag had Fizz offering multiple flavors and spinning the rejects like plates. There would be too many to balance and all the pies would fall on Fizz. Barb’s closing line of “I wanted cake,” was a hilarious finisher.

Fizz’s renewed confidence and improved performance meant the disapproving glares from Cash eased up. Not that his demands for perfection were any less, but Fizz was meeting them.

Barb’s mom, Tilly, continued to clash with her husband. Not vocally, not after a second argument about Blitzo resulted in her wearing high necked and long sleeved dresses for weeks. But she refused to sleep in the same bed and made no effort to make sure Cash ate or had clean outfits. She wanted to head back to Pride, but didn’t dare leave Barb and Fizz alone with the older man.

Cash, ever the petty demon, had others in the circus give Tilly extra work constantly. Since she hadn’t performed since being pregnant with the twins, she did a lot of childcare as well as helping behind the curtains. She was a capable imp. Cash took advantage of that and her caretaker personality at every opportunity. She was constantly on edge. The never ending work meant she never had the chance to go to any other Ring on her own.

Barb was annoyed at her mom’s stubborn insistence that Blitzo wouldn’t leave them the way Cash claimed. Wouldn’t they have heard from him at some point? Not that the girl wasn’t hurt by her twin’s absence, but the lack of any communication pointed to him tossing the family away. Just like their dad said.

The circus continued to perform throughout Hell. Even though the troupe members suggested shows in Pride again, Cash refused them all. No amount of persuasion would change his mind. Fortunately the Greed Ring in particular enjoyed the clown and circus aesthetic. They made enough to offset any grifting that occurred in that Ring.

By the time Fizzarolli and Barb were in their mid teens, he was the star of the All Imp Circus. His stage fright of being solo was mostly gone. Which was probably for the best; his act with Barb was being scheduled less often.

Not that they didn’t enjoy performing together. But Barb was less interested in the spotlight; she preferred helping the strongmen act toss out creeps and troublemakers. As Fizz got more popular, there were more weirdos around the circus. She was glad to send them packing, usually with bloodied faces.

When Fizz’s clown idol, the Deadly Sin Mammon, announced the first show tour he’d done in years, the teenager saved up to go. He even did extra performances to get tickets for him and Barb. He knew his best friend wouldn’t let him go alone. And she didn’t like clowns enough to pay for a ticket near the stage like Fizzarolli was. But if he already had one for her, she couldn’t say no.

Which was exactly what happened. He even convinced her into a Mammon brand crop top. And he was up close to the King of Greed when he announced the first clown pageant. Fizz was so excited he didn’t notice Barb’s skepticism.

“Okay, even for that guy, that was too many clowns,” Barb said later as they walked home.

“I have to win that pageant someday. Can you imagine how amazing it would be to get to work with him?” Fizz was giddy with the thought.

“Fuck that!” Barb said vehemently. “You’re already the star of our circus. Being that creep’s mascot sounds pretty lame in comparison.”

“But it’s the chance to work with my idol Barb. He’s giving someone new an opportunity to be in the spotlight!” His eyes sparkled in the flickering streetlights. “He’s an inspiration!”

“Yeah, of what not to do,” she said under her breath. “But were all those clowns, rants, an over hyped commercial, and puking on stage worth what you paid for tickets?”

“So worth it!” He sighed. Behind them was the faint sound of someone else on the street, but nothing unusual. “Barb, do you think I can win if I work really really hard?”

Barb smirked and punched her friend’s shoulder. “I think you’re the best clown in Hell and you’ll be the new clown face on everything if you want, contest or no contest.”

Then the sound of someone behind them was suddenly the sound of someone dashing into their path. “Holy, shit!” The gangly imp was flushed and sweaty, almost drooling at seeing Fizz. “You're Fizzarolli! Oh, MAN! Your stuff is great!”

Fizz hunched in on himself. “Oh- hey, there. Thank you, I appreciate that.” The duo tried to walk away but the bespectacled imp ran in front again. “Woah, oh-okay.” Fizz stumbled back, his tail wrapping around his legs.

The other imp kept talking. “After seeing your shows, I wanted to get into clown performing too!” Fizz winced at his fan’s excitement while Barb glared at him. “I’m really good!” Fizz started to hold out his hand to shake when Barb said, “Hang on, you’re that asshat that keeps trying to peep in his dressing room.”

The other imp ignored her and grabbed the young clown’s hand. “I have the best idea for a duo performance between us, that should spice up your act. Picture this: We start it like a romantic, ballroom dance or a-“

Barb shoved him away from Fizz. “Fuck off creepazoid. That’s the sleaziest pitch I’ve ever heard.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are bitch? I was talking to Fizzy!” He looked around the young woman and tried to grab Fizz’s hand again. “I’m sorry Fizzy, I’m not normally so aggressive-“

Barb laughed at him. “Yeah, you’re normally a limp dick hiding behind curtains trying to take a peek. Get lost fucko.”

“Nobody asked you bitch! Fizz, tell her to back off. You don’t want me to go, right? We’re gonna talk about doing an act together!”

Fizz, his tail wrapped around him as he stayed behind Barb, kept his hands to his chest so the other couldn’t grab him again. “We- we have to go now! Thanks though!” They tried to move past the fan again but he grabbed Fizz’s tail as the two walked by.

Fizz squeaked in surprise. Barb, seeing what made him stop, whirled around. A quick move had her kicking the guy in the groin. His face turned redder as he doubled over. “I told you to get lost fucko. And if I see you at the circus again, you’ll be singing soprano for life.”

Fizz held his tail in both hands as they finally walked away from the creep. Said creep was curled up under the streetlight, both hands covered his crotch as he spluttered in pain. “FIZZ! FIZZAROLLI!” When neither of the pair looked back, he screeched. “FINE! Fuck both of you elitist bitches! Your act’s fucking TRASH ANYWAYS!”

“Hellfire Fizz, how do you attract all these fucking weirdos?” Barb grumbled as they put more distance between them and the other imp.

“Barb…what if he’s right, what if my acts are trash?” His voice was shaking as he remembered the days when he couldn’t do any of his routines right. “What if I’m never good enough?”

The girl looked at him in disbelief. “Dude, don’t listen to a jackass like him. You’re plenty good enough. You pull the crowds to prove that.”

“But I need to be perfect!”

“Mmm, no, nobody’s perfect Fizz.”

“I just need to keep practicing, and someday, maybe I’ll be good enough for Mammon.”

Barb could only sigh at Fizzarolli’s determined expression. “Let's get home and we can talk about what kind of practice you wanna do tomorrow.”

Fizz gave her a sweet smile that was part and parcel to his personality. “Thanks Barb.”

—————

<<First <Prev Next>

[mordenheim]

Fictober 2023 15: “Fine, explain it to me.”

“You'll think I'm crazy...” Julie sat in the passenger seat, fingers twirling the little blue crystal charm that her lover had gifted to her. Julie seemed to never take the necklace off except to shower.

“I promise I won't, babe. We've been together for years now and you know you can tell me anything.” Angela looked a little concerned at her girlfriend. She'd been planning on using this trip to propose to her, but now? Julie seemed to be having some kind of nervous breakdown.

“You wouldn't understand. It's just... It's too unreal.”

“Fine, explain it to me.”

Closing her eyes, Julie took a deep breath and slowly began to spin a tale that was just beyond belief. She spoke of an average day in the shopping center, stressed out from a long day at work and just completely on edge. She had been in a rush to get through the crowd and literally ran over a poor little old woman, knocking her right into the fountain!

The old lady crawled out, cursing and shouting at Julie, calling her a “big oaf” who should watch where she was going. Julie, having no patience for this abuse told the woman she was so shore she should have to wear a hat with a flag on it so people would notice her.

“Oh, when I'm through with you, EVERYONE will be beneath your notice! You.. you BEAST!” Shouting that, the old woman grabbed Julie by the arm and she felt a weird electric shock rum through her whole body.

Julie took a deep breath as she got through it all and turned towards Angela. “Ever since then, I've been cursed.. I turn into... a monster.”

“A monster.. and what triggers this curse?” Angela asked, turning towards her lover, paying less attention to the road than she should.

She bit her bottom lip, “Uh.. so far, really severe stress. Anger is one. If I let myself get too hungry? If I get injured, even a paper cut it can trigger because it seems to heal me...”

Her lover turned to face her again, “Look, I'm not gonna say you're crazy, this is just a lot to take in, okay? I...” “ANGIE LOOK OUT!!!”

She turned just in time to see the sharp turn ahead and slammed on the breaks. The car went out of control on the loose gravel and kept going straight ahead, slamming hard into the trunk of a tree as her vision went black.

Angela slowly came to, holding her head in agony. She could see blood in the airbag in front of her, barely. Her vision was blurred and she was woozy. Her head was spinning as she heard the slow, steady tick of the cooling engine, but she could hear Julie moaning as well.

“Jules, Jules, you okay?”

She just heard more moans and the sound of tearing cloth. She figured Julie must have grabbed the emergency tool and was cutting her seat belt free until she hears the creak of warping metal and the entire car started to tilt! The whole thing lurched to the side before slamming back down.

Angela rubbed at her eyes, clearing her vision then looked over towards the side of the car where Julie had been. The whole passenger side was a mangled mess. She let out a cry as she thought Julie must have been flung from the vehicle.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang that made Angie jump. What looked like a huge, two-fingered hand gripped the top edge of the door and ripped it off suddenly. A second reached in and grabbed her seat belt, tearing it like it was made of tissue.

She was slowly lifted out of the twisted wreck and set down on the ground. Before her stood some sort of giraffe creature, towering above her. It had to be close to twenty five feet tall including the long neck. It, she, knelt down in front of her and slowly lowered its head. It had very obviously humanoid and female features.

Once it was at eye level, something glistening caught her eye. The bright blue crystal pendant. “J.. Julie? Is that you?”

She nodded her big head, almost looking ashamed. Angela reached out to touch her, rubbing the soft fur of her cheek. “This... This is real... I'm not concussed and hallucinating, you're really..”

Her voice was a deep rumble as she forced out a “Yes...”

Angela looked up at her, blinking a few more times, eyes going from the ruined car to her lover and back. “Well, this really is a lot to take in. YOU'RE a lot to take in...”

Julie's huge head hung even lower as she felt a wave of grief wash over her. Until she felt small, soft hands stroke her long neck, then wrap around it, a shoulder sliding up under her chin.

“Yeah, you're a whole lot more than I bargained for, but I think we can learn to deal with this together.”

[gremlin-dreams]

The Zombie War

A zombie apocalypse had broken out. The dream began with me fighting zombies alongside my parents, in this huge brushy field, but I got swept up into a big crowd of people, two different surviving factions at war (probably over territories or supplies) on what was basically a battlefield, I lost my parents in the crowds so I went for safety and provisions and nearly killed this guy who bumped into me, I didnt want to, it was me or him. 

I ended up in this little street, found somewhere safe for this small injured animal I rescued on the way and gathered enough provisions to go back and find my parents even though the people around me in the street didnt think it was a good idea. There was a gun store on the street and instead of taking them and quietly stockpiling, this idiot starts selling them off at extortionate prices.

Fast forward a few months, I never found my parents and ended up accidentally becoming part of this gated community run by an asshole, with the few survivors I found. Turns out the asshole that runs the place was the guy I almost killed in that field. Whilst everyone is working during the day, I quietly begin packing provisions to escape. He's like crazy though, no one dares leave, its not even a "community" anymore. Its a twisted dictatorship.

I get caught by a few lower ranks and they pass the info to him but I managed to hide my bags in the storerooms so there was no "evidence" and also I could come back to them later. He arrives and I try to sweet talk my way out of it, but he swipes at me with a hammer from the counter and knocks me out, with a black eye.

I wake up, I'm in a little tube with bars, and he threatens to fill it up with water and not to let me out until he's had "more fun" with me. He planned to turn me into a demonstration of what happens to people that turn against him, what a psycho. Luckily, I managed to pique the attention of his girl, who is obviously the most protected and highest ranking woman in the place. She takes interest in me and lets me out when no one is paying attention, on the pretense that I'm now like her little right hand maid. She's actually pretty nice, I even show her some guitar and ukulele, she was sort of like airy if that makes sense, hippie zen mother vibes, white flowy dresses, headbands...

The few people I trusted, who I came in with, were too scared to rebel, so I started planning an escape again, after a while. Once, the top girl caught me but honestly she thought it was kinda interesting and amusing and let me continue, didn't even tell him. 

Fast forward a week or so, I'm used to being the guys personal punchbag, but had all my provisions. Hannah, one of my trusted survivors, was gona help me leave but was too fearful to join me. She helped lower me from a window of the main house which towered above the docks. I slipped down, my bag on my back, and managed to get to the loading pier, where I impersonated someone of rank with a token from the lady, and got past their weird little militia barrier. I sweet talked all the way to the end of the pier which was above three old flooded streets of a long forgotten town, and made a break for it. Jumping over the edge, swimming as fast as I could, trying not to get shot and eventually escaping into a swampy forest. 

Fast forward a few weeks, I had to keep moving out there because it seemed wherever I went, they'd find me. Thats when I realised I still had a little tracker in my neck (like frickin cattle) that every member was given. I had to dig it out with a small knife, and crushed it. Soon after, they found it far more difficult to track me and keep up, and I found a few outlying survivors that joined me (even a little girl) but ultimately I couldn't keep them alive and they died/got turned. It was horrible and lonely.

Ages later, I'm with this guy who I came across and we came to trust eachother, even sleeping together a few times in derelict houses that we searched for supplies. That was, until one day we were led in this makeshift bed, our bodies tangled up and covered with a sheet, when I noticed a scar on his neck. A tracker implant. He had been with those men the entire time. He had betrayed me and led them straight to me. After all we'd bonded, I couldnt bring myself to kill him so I gouged out the tracker from his neck and destroyed it, knowing he couldnt keep up with me whilst bleeding from his neck.

But it was too late and when I checked outside from the upstairs window, I heard and saw the trucks coming.

[homelander-rp-blog]

Maeve rises both hands, trying to calm the stressed-out space between her teammates "hang on.. Misty, I know you care about him but, I really think we should get back to the tower and see if the phone is right? or- give me that" and without waiting she takes that from Misty, shakes her head "we aren't even sure the phone belongs to John or not! I'm just saying we're going too fast, girl" she smiles weakly "think about everyone here, our units are tired and police force.. well.. I'm not sure they'd want to help further." she moves to Misty's side, sighing "let's take a break for tonight, shall we?"

The police force retreats its units and only Vought force and scientists stay, Vought announces news about 'our favorite hero' being lost and they need everyone's help. even on twitter, the hashtags of 'savinghomelander' trending too fast, everyone around the world making small search parties for their hero.

Calvin approaches Misty with a blanket, throwing it on her shoulders and hands over a coffee cup "hey.." his voice tired when he greets her, sitting down and invites her to sit by his side "don't worry.. we'll find him. yeah.." he nods to Starlight who's looking at their way before she turns to Ashley, she says something to red head that has her throwing her hands up "WHAT?! but we all need you here! what you mean you have to see a friend right now?!" Ashley shakes her head again, the coffee spills out of her own paper cup when she turns her back fast to Annie "no, no! no way I let you leave your post for tonight!" but the blonde girl sets to walk to one of Vought's cars anyway, ignoring Ashley's yell behind her that she isn't allowed to leave the place.

Maeve approaches Misty again "can I see that phone again? some of our guys say they can hack it, not sure if that helps.."

Calvin nods his head "yeah.. I can look at it for you if you want..? I don't know much about hacking but uhh.. I think I'm good at computer stuffs!"

On other side of the city, a phone rings and Billy picks up with a grunt "what?" and listens in to whatever the person on the other side says before getting up, marching to John's cage "we gotta move, a birdie told me they probably got our place's address" and John tries to kick or headbutt him when the older man comes closer to haul him up on his legs, pushing toward the cage entrance, they had him undressed out of his uniform, which was really humiliating.. and dressed in civil shirt and pants, which is somehow more humiliating than walking around naked, they had him bruised and bloody and it should be almost two days, seeing his beard starting to grow, these fuckers didn't even let him shave or use bathroom! had to piss in that bowl in the corner of the cage like an animal.. he cried all last night.

"ohh William, as soon as I'm back to that tower-"

"-oh?! do tell me, princess, gonna list wot ya wanna do ta me? go ahead! but add a 'if I can walk out of this alive' on top too.." the man pushes him in the back of their van

"where's Soldier Boy anyway? left you?" John spits with anger and Billy snorts, sitting behind the wheel after making sure Homelander's ropes are tight "gotta let him walk on this earth, promised him after he got ya for me and our deal was ended.." the curt explanation and was all John needed, he just hopes the ex-supe isn't back to Vought trying to take his place! or worse.. hurt those ones that John loves.. like Misty.. or Maeve.

He curls in on himself when the truck rocks around as Billy pulls in the main road.

John.. Angel?

The fuck?! he frantically looks around, whispering "Misty?"

"stop talking to yourself!" Billy yells at him then mumbles a "crazy cunt.." under his breath but John isn't wrong, it's Misty sitting by his side, caressing his messy hair like how he loves the most "Misty? what.. what are you doing here? am I dreaming?" no no.. now Misty is a voice inside his head too?! John, you failed me. the hallucination picture of Misty tells him and he curls in on himself "I..I'm.." I don't want to hear your apologizes, John. you failed..

This time, John doesn't answer her.

Misty’s hands never left her small cat. Petting her small head so repetitively, absolutely zoned out. Her mind was so cluttered and worried with thought, she didn’t hear the soft baby crying and meowing right with her. Feeling every ounce of her anxiety right now.

The hours only continue to pass by. Her eyes would dart up and check the clock religiously. 4, 5, 6.. Soon to be seven in the morning. Her eyes’ color amplified with how much crying she’d done. Her face no longer holding that irresistible glow- replaced with low, pale lifeless skin. This was the most awful she’d ever felt.

Rapid pounding on her door thunders and breaks her away from this heartache. Her hands place Alice and she immediately jumps up from the couch. Almost matching speeds with A-Train scrambling to the door. Her hands coil and twist quickly, being met with Ashley’s panicked eyes.

“They’ve got him! God damnit they’ve got him..” Ashley cries hysterically, almost matching how Misty’s been all night. Her hair a crazed mess of oranges and reds. She holds Mistys shoulders, looking her deep in the eyes. “I’m so sorry- we have to go. There’s a worldwide search party. They WILL find him.. I promise you”

It’s all too much to process. Misty’s heart is shattering- crumbling in her tightened chest. She can’t breath..

Yet, she can’t just fall to her knees and sob, as much as she wants to. Her hands clench into fists, feeling helpless like this. Human. Weak. Fragile. This pit in her stomach quick to consume her. She’ll vomit soon if she can’t be out there- helping at least a little. But even so- an idea dawns on her. She turns and grabs Ashley now, her voice desperate as much as she was just now.

“Give me temp V.. I’ll kill those bastards myself..” Furrowed brows, a raised tone. This wasn’t like her at all. Her love for John overwhelming her senses. He should be here with her- not rotting away captured by some cowards who work in pairs. She’s every ounce of serious on this. Nails digging in hard to the skin. “It’s not a request Ashley. Bring the V and I’ll get packed. Don’t try to talk me out of this”

-

The rescue team walks together. A-Train, Ashley, Misty, The Deep, Noir, Maeve. All of them comforting Misty in their own way. However, she can’t pay them any mind. Her heart is in shambles, her blood boiling hot and angry. She only has one goal in mind.

“Over here! I found something” The Deep beacons us over, the rest of the search party joining. Military members. Forensics. Anyone who could give us a clue, really. Her eyes linger down to see he’s gathered a phone. Her heart swells with hope- looks like those bastards aren’t as smart as they’d hoped to be. She retrieved the phone from him- scrolling and searching desperately for evidence.

It takes her some time but soon she finds it. An address-

“Holy fucking shit.. we’ve got it.. we’ve got the address..” Her hands trembling against the phone. So hard she may drop it. Turning the screen towards them to reveal, her eyes well furthermore with warm, flooding tears. “We have to go now!”

-

[moonrisecalamityretreat]

IMMORTAL GAME

[🎵🎵🎵]

…And then three more, bullets connecting into the already fallen body.

Whether you’re all relieved by the sight or still riding out the adrenaline and panic, while you can all tell you’re no longer in danger… Those closer can still see Diantha was still very much alive. Incapacitated, yes, but alive, even if just barely. One of you may even be able to notice that she was shot in highly specific, non-lethal places with point-blank accuracy– this decision was definitely intentional, rather than it being reckless misses.

The sound of a gun being put away to a holster clicks to your ears faintly, and a voice speaks up.

“...Lycan, Fenrir, take her away. And don’t kill her– I left her alive. She’s one of the Shepherd’s presumed higher ups: one of The Lovers to be precise. It’d be convenient for us if she was kept alive for future questioning.

Bring more agents with you just in case. I may have ensured that she cannot try anything in that state, but you already know the deal with these lambs. You’ve spent more time with these crazy fucks than I did.”

Two masked men in purple-marked uniforms heed to demands as they approached to take Diantha away, and more similarly uniformed people come to help and ensure Diantha truly cannot retaliate. The threat was gone, and now all there was is safety, and the figure who had helped end the chase.

Your savior.

“...Told you they’d make it regardless. She built the ship and she didn’t even know that much?”

They quip to their coworkers first as they bring out their bo staff with a twirl, before finally deciding it was time to address you all. In fact, you start to find their voice quite familiar…

Of course, how could any of you forget all those recordings left for you to find and aid you? It’s just like every other message you’ve heard before, with the disguised inflection and instructive tone.

“Sorry for ditching you guys. I had to have a chase sequence of my own… a predator chasing its prey, if you will.

So, as the figure that turns around to greet you…

[🎵🎵🎵]

You assume it can be no other than HANJI RUZAKI, towering over all of you.

…Or you assume it is, as they are adorning a specially painted mask like all the others. You’re sure yet unsure, as their entire demeanour was unfamiliar, the way they’re deciding to carry themselves where they stand foreign to you as it lacked that typical lazy, apathetic nature. In fact, although you were sure you knew who this was, at the same time, it also felt like you didn’t know this person at all. Their uniform has the mark of a canine just like everyone else, indicating their heavy involvement with the organization.

The air around them was thick, almost fierce, like a pillar refusing to crumble under the end of the world. They stood tall with responsibility, the previously known sarcastic hillbilly now displaying professionalism like they’ve done this for years; and they probably have, as you can sense the years of experience in their body language.

Now that you think of it, they were missing during the whole reunion and chase, weren’t they? Even Spud ends up popping his head out of the fur of Hanji’s coat. You were all so focused on Yuriko and Maxime’s reunion with you all that you barely noticed the puzzler had gone missing; in fact, it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary to assume they have just gotten quiet.

But here they were, saving your lives.

They have been working to save your lives from the start.

“Listen up, game participants. You’re all safe here, now. You don’t have to feel trapped anymore, because you aren’t. The Tranquility Dogs will be responsible from here on out.”

Their voice softens ever so slightly.

“...You don’t have to suffer anymore. You don’t have to worry about losing loved ones to that damn cycle anymore. You don’t have to endure any more pain than you already have felt and experienced…  You may never be the same as you were before all this, but, despite everything, you’re here. And you’re out. 

And you’re still alive.”